Author's Note

Hey, I hope you're enjoying the read. Starting from here, the story frequently switches POVs. It's mostly because I enjoy giving the reader a bit of a mystery to solve from time to time (or hell, some are not even meant to be solved).

The issue is that it's pretty easy to not notice when the POV switches. In hindsight, I shouldn't have POV switches mid chapter since they're so confusing.

I'm not gonna restructure the entire story now, though, and instead I'll do a bandaid fix: When the narrator changes, there's a double horizontal rule. If I missed any, or if I put one where I shouldn't, do leave a comment

Chapter 14 — Regrets

Regrets

“Look, I’m sorry, but I just can’t let anyone in after dusk,” explained the mare on top of the gate leading inside Riverbreak. With her unkempt light brown mane and blonde coat, she looked mostly plain, except for the scar across her cheek.

“Come on, miss, it’s barely night,” I countered. That was stretching it a bit, but it hadn’t been dark for too long, either. I just needed something to push the conversation where I wanted it. We’d arrived here later than expected, and were now struggling to get back inside the settlement.

“I know, but I don’t make the rules. We can’t risk shady characters getting in while everypony’s asleep.”

I had three options. I could try to bribe her, but she seemed too innocent to accept that. I could tell that she actually felt bad for not letting us in, and trying to pay her off would probably make her change her mind.

Seduction could work. Given how plain she looked, she likely didn’t get compliments often. I could use that to my advantage, but I still ran the risk of her being too pure of heart to break the rules for her own benefit, so I’d have to bet on her throwing reason out the window for a pretty mare. Not that I was particularly pretty anyway, given my many scars. Well, a possible exception to this was maybe the one across my eye. It gave me a gruff mercenary look that helped me be taken seriously, but it also added a hint of experience to my face. The same couldn’t be said for my burn scar or my missing ear though.

All that aside, another argument against the flirty approach was the possibility that she wasn’t into mares at all. There was always the chance I had misread some of the looks she’d given Petal on our previous visits.

That left the last option… pity. I already knew she was the type with a heart of gold, but a brain of tin, so I could likely trick her just by making us out to be poor defenseless young mares, out in the dangerous wastes. Luckily, she’d poorly chosen her words.

“Are… you saying I look shady?” I asked, faking a dejected look. With any luck, just this would be enough to manipulate her to let us in. “Is it because of my scars?”

The effect was immediate, and she promptly went into damage control mode. With any luck, her brain was already in a defensive state, meaning she’d stop thinking as rationally. “Nonono, don’t get me wrong! I just—it’s just that—uh, you see, anypony approaching at night is automatically not super trustworthy… Wrong wording.” Success. Now for part two.

“Please,” I pleaded, “we just had to take a detour because the old bridge south of here gave out. We were hoping to get here before dusk, but if we’re stuck outside, we might not survive the monsters…” With every word that I said, I made sure to twist the knife. Make her feel as guilty as possible. And I could tell it was doing its job, as she was getting visibly more and more worked up. “You already know us, too.”

The guard stammered, unable to find her words. It was hard to believe they’d have such a rookie at their front entry, but maybe they didn’t have a choice. Plus, that was likely why she’d been given such strict orders; they were worried she’d let just anypony in, so they told her to turn everyone away instead, even if they were otherwise trustworthy.

And even then, she wasn’t all bad; I really doubted she could be bought off or corrupted in some other way. She really was just too kind.

Plus, despite all of my exaggerations, we weren’t particularly strong, either. While I doubted anything in the region would pose a significant threat to Iron, Lockpick and Petal weren’t quite as resilient. Besides, if we could avoid a threat, there was no reason not to. Although, we didn’t know much of the region anyway, for all I knew there could be hellhounds around here. I doubted there were any, but I had heard stories. Well, Iron had.

The guard had fallen quiet, and I knew it was time for the final nail in the coffin. “Please, I promise we won’t get you in t-trouble,” I whimpered, managing to let a few tears run down my cheek. “We’ll stay out of sight and won’t bring attention to us. We can even pay you, we’ll do anything to get in…!” The offer to bribe was simply to underline how desperate I was trying to sound; I wasn’t particularly interested in paying her, truth be told.

She fell quiet, no longer stammering. After a few moments, she finally gave in. “Fine, but if anything goes bad, I’ll be the one to blame, so please keep that in mind,” she told us, almost disappointed in herself. “And don’t tell anypony I let you in…”

I gave her the biggest smile I could reliably fake and moved towards the gate as she opened it. “Thank you! We owe you so much, miss.”

I would feel bad about tricking such a kind-hearted mare, if the end result wasn’t so inconsequential. If there was actually a chance of her getting into trouble for allowing us in, I don’t think I would have had it in me to hurt someone as pure as her, even if it meant taking a risk.

I kept up my façade until we were out of her sight, while Petal and Lockpick remained silent. They both knew to let me deal with this sort of situation, and would often just play along with whatever I was trying to get across.

Once I knew she wouldn't be able to see me, I relaxed, grinning confidently. “She’s not particularly difficult to fool, but this still went flawlessly,” I told the two of them. “Since we don’t have any plans for tomorrow, I might mess with her a bit during her free time just because it’s fun. I wonder what she’s like when she’s not busy following orders she doesn’t believe in. I bet she’s cute when flustered.”

Not that I’d be able to do anything more with her anyway. Iron wouldn’t like it one bit if I used our body for that. I really didn’t get it. Weren’t fillies our age supposed to be interested in this type of thing? I knew it wasn’t a conscious decision on her part—I remembered her thought process, after all—but it still weirded me out. It’s like she doesn’t even care about a mare’s sex appeal, all that matters to her is guns. Nevertheless, I couldn’t go back on my promise, especially since she might go back on hers and start ruining our body with drugs and alcohol again.

That wasn’t where our differences ended, however.

Petal furrowed her brow before commenting, “Sweet Celestia, how did you change this much in the span of less than two months? You were so innocent and naïve, and now you’re anything but.”

“Well, you know I’ve been remembering Iron’s memories,” I reminded her.

Ever since Iron had agreed to Lockpick telling me about my condition, most of the former’s memories had slowly started coming back to me. As far as I could tell, I remembered the vast majority of what happened ever since we left the stable, and even before that. Though I was aware I still had gaps in my knowledge.

For instance, I understood what my father had done to me, but I didn’t recall the particular events. It was like a fuzzy nightmare that I had mostly forgotten about. Other than that, I still didn’t remember what happened to Cascade or when we’d separated. Iron claimed it was completely on Cascade for being overly sensitive, but I knew that was pure horseshit. And she knew that I knew. Still, we understood each other enough to work together and respect our respective boundaries.

Then, Lockpick admitted she shared Petal’s sentiment. “Yeah, but it’s hard to believe it makes such a difference.”

“Is it?” I rebutted. “If you suddenly lost, say, five to six years’ worth of memories, wouldn’t you become a lot more naïve and innocent?”

“I guess?” she conceded.

“Then what’s so weird about a sheltered stable filly becoming confident and capable in the span of two years? The only odd thing is that they’re technically not my memories, but instead those of the mare I share a head with, but I guess that doesn’t make a difference.”

“Yeah, but where did you learn to be so…” Lockpick paused for a second, trying to find a word.

“Manipulative? It’s something I was taught by my mother ever since I was young,” I explained.

Lockpick wasn’t quite satisfied with this answer, however, as she asked, “How come Iron isn’t quite as… socially agile?”

“I think she mostly wants to reject mother’s lessons because of the way she treated us. In a way, she tried to force us on a life path, and Iron believes that using any of that knowledge is letting mother control us. I, on the other hoof, would prefer not to waste skills that I’ve already built, regardless of who taught them to me.”

“How does that work, by the way?” asked Petal, “Regaining Iron’s memories. Do you just get flashbacks?”

“Sort of?” I hesitated. “Usually, when I think of something, the memories are just… there. Sometimes I can tell it’s knowledge I didn’t previously have, but most of the time it’s as if I never forgot it in the first place. The weirdest part is that I don’t know what I’m still missing, if I’m even missing anything.” Well, other than the obvious, that is.

Our conversation turned to more trivial topics as I gave the two concrete examples of things I knew for sure I’d only recently remembered, like the time Iron spent with Candy; to me those months had seemed like a complete blur at first, but now I recalled so much more.

Once that topic was exhausted, we decided to walk around town for a bit longer. Even though it had been dark for a few hours already, Riverbreak was still very awake. It was an odd town, built around an old port. They’d taken boats and welded them together to build a wall around the outer perimeter. Some of the houses were also repurposed ships, while others were just regular port buildings. However, most of the population lived in huts made of sheet metal and boat parts.

Meanwhile, we were staying in a half-collapsed hangar, with a destroyed sail for a roof. Usually, finding a building to sleep in wasn't very tough, but given the nature of this place, it made sense that the only free place was one that nopony else would want.

Despite how well-off this place was—or rather because of how well-off it was—they didn’t really engage in trade; it wasn’t that they were unwilling to buy, they would just pay subpar prices. They had everything they needed, after all.

The river provided power, and filtering the water was rather easy if you had electricity. They also grew their own crops—albeit outside the main perimeter—while ships and containers were their source of building material. Ammunition wasn’t in ample demand, either, since no raiders really ever came nearby. This place was truly self-sufficient, and travelers came by rarely enough that everyone was somewhat wary of them. Well, almost self-sufficient; certain kinds of medical supplies were occasionally needed, but even that was well under control.

As we arrived at the hangar we were staying at, I noticed a letter sitting at the bottom of the doorway. Could it be…?

I rushed over as soon as I saw it, and tore it open.

“Dear Petal, Lockpick, and Iron,

I hope you’re all doing well, I’ve been waiting so long for an opportunity to send this letter that I ended up rewriting it from scratch four times already. None of the couriers seem to be headed in the direction of Riverbreak. I can understand why; the shortest way to it is through a radioactive valley, and the town isn’t really on any other interesting trade routes. Well, if you’re getting this letter, a courier finally headed there.

I’ve survived my injuries, but the doctors couldn’t fix the damage done to my spine, and I’ve lost all feeling in my hind legs. The nice ponies here helped me get my hooves on a functioning wheelchair, and someone even managed to swap out the wheels for something a bit more terrain-friendly.

Well, I wanted to start off with the silver lining. It’s been weighing on me pretty badly for the last month. I’ve been getting better, but I’m still not over it. Don’t know if I’ll ever be. Frankly, I’m glad a courier didn’t arrive earlier to send my previous letters, because I really wasn’t in a good state of mind when I wrote them. Still aren’t.

Anyway, I’ll keep this letter short. I want to stay here a few more weeks to finish recovering. Then, I’ll be waiting every night an hour until midnight at the old sawmill. Come pick me up when you get this letter.

Yours truly, Banter.

P.S.: A pegasus courier came to town, and he’s willing to deliver the letter and come straight back! He even agreed to deliver your response. Give me another two weeks of rest, then you can come pick me up. Tell me where you’d like to meet, and I’ll do my best to find you there.”

As I read it out loud, tears started flowing down my cheeks. He’d lost the use of his legs because of Iron… I knew I couldn’t be blamed for it, but I still couldn’t help but feel I partially responsible. If I’d managed to stay in control a bit more, none of this would have happened…

Suddenly, a voice called out from above, “Are you the ponies this letter was addressed to?” I raised my head and noticed a familiar pegasus. His white coat and deadpan face set off all kinds of feelings in me. Before I knew it, my vision faded to black.

“You!” shouted Sonata at the pegasus on the roof. No, this wasn’t Sonata, it was Iron Sights. When had they switched?

The buck raised an eyebrow. “Should I know you?” he asked nonchalantly.

Iron just stared at him intensely, though I couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or something else. Suddenly, she averted her gaze and ran inside.

“Alright then. I assume you are Petal and… Iron?”

I shook my head. “Iron’s the one who just ran in. I’m Lockpick. And you are?”

“Airdrop. As you have probably come to understand, I am a courier, and I am here to pick up your response. I shall give you until tomorrow at noon, if that is fine.”

As we both nodded, he took off.

Petal whispered to me, “I’ll leave you and Sonata some time alone. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I figure you’re better off talking to her alone.”

“I think you’re right, though that wasn’t Sonata, I believe,” I replied.

I entered the house while Petal walked away, and found Iron crying quietly on her bedroll. Had I imagined the switch? I’d never seen Iron cry like that before. But then again, Sonata hadn’t been very emotional since she’d gotten her memories back, either. If anything, Iron had been the one to tear up once or twice while opening up to us.

Still, seeing her like… this was new.

She lifted her head and looked at me, and I dared ask, “Hey, what’s wrong?” She averted her eyes, and I tried again. “How do you know that buck?” She seemed to shrink away at the question. After a moment, she met my gaze.

Opening and closing her mouth multiple times, she eventually spoke up, “He’s… he’s the one who found Candy’s corpse back then.” She sniffled. “I still have nightmares involving his face.” Looking away, she gulped. “I… don’t think I could ever forget it. He did nothing wrong, but the memory of it…”

I lay down next to her, leaning against her. “Is that really all? It doesn’t seem like something that could make you this upset.” It took me a few moments to notice just how poorly I worded that, and I hastily corrected myself, “N-not thinking you’re wrong to feel like that, that is, it’s j-just that…” Realising I was only digging myself deeper, I stopped. “Sorry, I’m bad with words.”

“It’s not, but I’d rather not talk about the rest… It’s just that, well, it came back all at once, and I couldn’t hold it in.”

I leaned forward and turned my head to the right to look her in the eye. “Iron, I know this is tough for you, so take your time, but please don’t keep this a secret. You promised.”

“I… but… It’s really nothing you need to worry about. It’s not a piece of my past that poses any risk for us…”

“Well, in that case, I want to worry about it. Besides, even if it’s not something that can bite us in the flank directly, having you bottle it up can’t be good for our group, either.” She was our main fighter; if she suddenly had a fit like this while we were under attack, who knew what could happen? “Please, tell me, even if it’s trivial.”

She looked me in the eye before averting her gaze again. She gulped, then quietly began, “It happened when I first got back to New Detrot… half a year after I lost Candy, maybe a bit longer.” She wiped the tears off her face, sniffling. “I… was mostly over it already; at least… I wasn’t spending my days crying about it.”

She fell quiet for a few moments, sniffling occasionally. I shifted slightly in order to wrap my right foreleg around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. To my surprise, she actually leaned into the hug.

While I gently rubbed her side, she continued, “I went to the bar to get drunk, and there I met her.” She sighed. “I don’t know if you remember her, but Airwaves is the resident radio host of New Detrot.”

“I think I’ve met her a few times,” I replied. “She’s a bit of an eccentric weirdo, if I remember correctly. She kinda creeped me out, dunno why.”

“Do… you remember what she looks like?”

I shrugged. “Not really, why?”

“She’s the spitting image of her brother, Airdrop.”

“Oh…” I answered as another puzzle piece appeared on my mental table, solving part of the mystery.

Iron took another deep breath. Then, she continued, her voice unsteady, “Sh-she recognised me and immediately trotted over to have a few drinks. At first I thought she would make for great company, because I missed having a drinking buddy, but…

“But the more I looked at her, the more I was reminded of that one sentence her brother had told me. ‘Oh, I’ve buried her by the river.’ It echoed in my head, over and over again.” Taking a moment to calm her breathing, she wiped away the tears from her eyes. “A-any time she opened her mouth, I thought she was going to say that. Even when she wasn’t talking, all that was on my mind was the day I lost my sister.”

Her voice growing shakier and shakier, I doubled down on my efforts and pressed my neck against her throat. Normally, being this close to her would have sent my heart racing, but given her current state, I only wanted to be the friend she needed. She let her head rest on mine as she struggled to continue, occasionally opening her mouth before closing it again. Every time, I could feel her jaw quivering.

“Take your time,” I gently reassured her.

Breathing in deeply, she swallowed before finally continuing, “The sadder I got, the drunker I wanted to be… I thought that... that if I just got numb enough, I’d forget about all the bad things. It a-always worked like that before. It d-didn’t help.” She sniffled again. “At s-some point I was drunk enough that I started bawling in the middle of the b-bar. S-she offered to take me home, and I was in no state to decline.”

Was… was this really heading in the direction I thought it was? I really hoped not. Airwaves was a weirdo, but she wasn’t a rapist… was she? I really didn’t know her all that well, but she hardly seemed malicious…

“She carried me a-all the way to h-her house. I calmed down a bit on the trip, but when she t-tried to put me down on the c-couch, I clung to her.” She gave a single sob, and I felt some tears fall into my mane. Her tone turned to a whimper as she continued, “I j-just didn’t want to be alone… I wanted the touch of somepony, anypony. And she w-was t-there, and she was warm. I just wanted her warmth…”

As she started sobbing, I removed my head from underneath hers and guided it towards my chest, holding her close and stroking her mane. It was what Petal used to do when I was having an episode. “It’s okay, let it all out,” I whispered into her ear.

“She wanted to—to leave. But I didn’t—didn’t want to be a-alone,” she wept, constantly interrupted by her own hiccups. “S-so I kissed her. I k-kept g-going, and then we d-did… that. I didn’t want t-to—to, but I just didn’t w-want to be alone…”

She sobbed into my chest for several more minutes. I felt myself start tearing up as well. Seeing her like this hurt. I couldn’t imagine how she must have felt, but I still couldn’t stop myself from crying as she leaned against me. I knew I ought to get angry; to curse Airwaves for not rejecting Iron. And yet, all I could do was sob along Iron Sights.

A few long minutes passed as we sat there, crying in each others’ embrace.

Come to think of it, it was really unusual to witness her in such a vulnerable—even defeated—state, but I was glad she was telling me about it. She’d admitted some things that she had done and regretted, but had barely talked about the times she’d gotten hurt.

Eventually, she muttered, “You know, the worst thing about this is that I couldn’t fix it with violence…” She sniffled. “The next morning I woke up as Sonata, who read the notes in my journal, which said to leave New Detrot. By the time we switched back, I was already over a week away from that place and starting to get low on caps.” She sighed. “As much as I wanted to go back and blow her brains out, survival came first.”

I felt myself raising an eyebrow, and asked, “But that was a long time ago… Forgive me for making assumptions, but wouldn’t you have had time to get back and get your revenge on her? You weren’t really the most… forgiving pony.” Normally, I wouldn’t be advocating for this kind of reprisal, but didn’t want to deny Iron’s sentiment. She’d told us about how she gleefully tortured somepony to death, but she didn’t kill someone who hurt her like this?

“Well, that’s the thing… As much as I despise her for not rejecting my advances, I can’t see her as a fundamentally bad pony. She wasn’t trying to hurt me; I did that all by myself,” she murmured. “A year or two ago, I wouldn’t have cared and just gunned her down. But now? It would make me feel like I am blaming my mistakes on somepony else,” she wearily explained. “On top of that, if I killed her, I’d turn New Detrot against me, and the last thing I need right now is more enemies. Or at least so I thought until my most recent visit to the town. Apparently, she left it a few months before I made it there.”

“I see… I honestly think I’d have done the same thing in your horseshoes. As much as I want to hurt her right now, I understand how you feel…” Maybe I was exaggerating a bit, but this wasn’t the moment to bring my own morals into the picture.

She didn’t say anything for the remainder of the evening, not even when Petal returned. Eventually, Iron took out a memory orb from a small case in her bags and touched it to her horn, losing consciousness.

I meant to wait until she woke up, but ended up falling asleep next to her instead.

Lost in thought, I was pulling our cart, when suddenly Lockpick’s laughter snapped me back to reality. She’d been chatting with Sonata while we moved towards Trotnot, east of Riverbreak.

I had to admit it had taken me a bit of time to really get used to the idea of two ponies sharing a body. Once I knew, however, it was surprisingly easy to tell them apart. When she spoke, it became clear how different the two really were. So much so, in fact, that I ended up wondering how long I would have needed before coming to the conclusion myself. Then again, it might not have ever crossed my mind that they were two separate fillies.

Fillies? Not quite… Iron was young, yeah, but you could hardly tell just by talking to her or observing her life in general. Sonata, however, acted a lot closer to her age, though; like a teenager her age would. She’d made phenomenal progress over the past five weeks, given that prior she was even less developed.

Well, she’d only been in control twenty or so days out of that, but she was still adapting really well. It was hard to believe that she was the same pony that we’d met two months ago. Once she gained some confidence, she quickly began growing into a pony with a very agreeable personality. Charming, sharp-witted, and empathic, she reminded me more of Banter than of Iron.

I looked back at Lockpick. Her growth was also astounding, perhaps even more so given that hers was entirely her own, not spurred on by the memories of somepony else. She used to be so meek and shy, but now she was quickly outgrowing me. Mentally, at least. Physically not so much. While she had grown considerably taller over the last half year, I was far from a small mare, and I doubted she would reach my height anytime soon.

Still, seeing her like this filled me with joy and pride. I was really glad she was starting to become her own mare. I really didn’t see myself as a motherly figure, but I knew I’d contributed a lot to her development, and that inevitably sparked some maternal sentiment.

Another thing about Sonata that I couldn’t help but notice was how she communicated with others, in particular ponies that weren’t part of our little group. She seemed very adept at steering a conversation exactly where it was convenient for her. While I couldn’t exclude the possibility of sheer luck, I’d spent enough time around Banter to realise she was most likely just playing her cards perfectly. There was a certain art to it, and Sonata seemed at least aware of it. However, she also appeared a lot more willing to employ straight up deception.

It was when thinking about this kind of stuff that I still missed Banter. The entire month we had waited for him had me worried sick. Normally, no news would have been good news, but not when a life was on the line like this.

The worst part was that, as much as I wanted to go there and check, I had no idea if I could risk going near Dodge Junction. After all, I’d killed one of its citizens. While it was in self-defence, I couldn’t tell how much that meant to them. In fact, if Banter did survive his injuries, there had been no telling what they’d done with him. In theory, they could have just locked him up. Even though he didn’t hurt anypony, I couldn’t tell if they would have believed that.

After some time, we’d decided to try and sneak back into Dodge City if we didn’t have any news until a month from then. Luckily, it hadn’t come to this. But finding out about Banter’s fate… I sighed and went back to observing the scenery, forcing my brain into the present.

As we walked forwards, minutes turned into hours, and eventually we reached a tiny nameless pre-war village. It was a sign we were getting close to our destination—a small town by the name of Trotnot. It was close enough to Hoofington to be considered part of the region, though it was really more on the outskirts. It was as close to that forsaken city as Iron, Lockpick, and I were willing to go.

Hoofington was the type of place you’d hear horror stories about. Somehow, the wasteland seemed to be at its worst there; in a way, it was the wasteland of the wasteland. You would also hear lots of tales of ponies finding some good spot to scavenge for pre-war technology and becoming rich off of that. In short, it was a region for either greedy fools or desperate scavengers. However, given the nature of the wasteland, it still meant that there were lots of ponies willing to risk it.

Fortunately, none of us were crazy enough to consider it.

In contrast, Trotnot was close enough to it to scare off most sane scavengers. We wouldn’t have considered it if it wasn’t for the ponies of Riverbreak, who assured us it was still relatively safe.

This village, however, really wasn’t anything special. From a distance, I could make out maybe a dozen buildings, two of which I recognised as barns. Once inside the village itself, I couldn’t shake the feeling of similarity to my childhood home.

In many ways, it was. Just like my home, this used to be a farming community, back before the megaspells fell. A simple, small village that was mostly inhabited by earth ponies. I easily imagined how picturesque this scene would have been back in its prime. When I looked around, I could almost see how green, beautiful, and calm this place used to be.

I blinked, and my mental image turned to that of summer. Yellow wheat surrounded the town, its fields stretching on in every direction as far as the eye could see. Foals played in the grass between the houses, giggling as they rolled through the tall blades.

I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, though I couldn’t tell if I was longing for the simpler days of my life, or for a world two centuries before my birth. This place soothed my soul, but simultaneously reminded me just how much I—we—had lost. How much ponykind had lost. Mom, Blue, Equestria, the Princesses, and now almost Banter. How fleeting everything was, and how we could lose it so quickly. Feeling myself tear up, I pressed my eyes shut and shook my head, forcing the visions away.

“Petal, are you okay?” asked Lockpick. Her conversation with Sonata had long since fallen quiet, and she’d been walking next to me.

I gulped before replying, “This place reminds me of home, and how I got my cutie mark. Makes me nostalgic.”

The two turned to me, expectant looks on their faces. Might as well, I thought before explaining to them how similar this village was to the one I’d grown up in.

“What about your cutie mark?” asked Lockpick. “I don’t think you’ve ever really told me the full story. I doubt I ever got to ask.”

“I earned my cutie mark by taking care of the tree on top of the hill I used to live on. Ever since I could think, I’d felt a strong connection to it, not really understanding why. I just felt comfortable whenever I was close to it, and spent most of my days as a young filly around it,” I said, fondly remembering those days. “I would occasionally water it during a dry spell, or spread some manure near its roots. It really wasn’t anything special, but it made me feel good about myself.”

“Over the years, the tree slowly recovered and ended up blooming magnificently. Even with the tiny amount of sunshine wasteland plants got, this one flourished. When I saw how beautiful it looked on that spring day, and when I realised I was responsible for that, I gained my mark,” I declared rather proudly.

“Wait, is that really enough to fix the wasteland’s vegetation?” wondered Sonata.

“Not really, no. Eventually, I figured out that my special talent was my connection with nature, and that my presence itself helped the tree recover.”

This seemed to only confuse her more, however, as she then asked, “Sorry if I am missing something, but isn’t that something all earth ponies can do? Like all unicorns can use basic telekinesis?”

“Yeah, for a while, I couldn’t really understand why my special talent was so… ordinary, either. Eventually, I realised that it wasn’t ordinary as much as it was general. Just like a unicorn with a gift for spellcasting, I was a natural at earth pony magic.”

“That’s… fascinating,” she admitted. “I was never really taught about it in my education; I only knew about unicorn magic. Well, my mother neglected teaching me biology in general… mostly because it helped her keep me in line.” A chill ran down my spine as I realised exactly what she was implying.

Not letting the topic get gloomy, I explained, “That’s not even all there is to it. I know you’ve noticed I space out quite often. It’s not just daydreaming, but oftentimes visions. Despite how barren and scorched the wasteland flora seems, the dirt itself hadn’t given up, and I often see glimpses of times gone by. I can’t tell if they were the memories of other ponies who’ve shared a bond with the earth, or if they are memories from the soil itself.”

Sonata was about to reply, but as we were walking past one of the houses, a high-pitched voice spoke up, “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but you need to leave.”

Looking around, I noticed a rifle barrel sticking out from one of the windows and a green coated colt poking his head out along with it. From the sound of his voice, he had to be a few years younger than both Iron and Lockpick.

“Watch where you point that,” Sonata calmly replied. "You wouldn't want to kill innocents, would you?”

“We’re just passing through, looking to trade if possible,” I added.

“Then leave,” he insisted. Then, something or someone behind him caught his attention, and he ducked behind the window sill for a few moments. When he reemerged, he asked, “You mentioned trade… Do you have any food? We have caps and ammo…”

“We do,” I answered.

“Meet me at the entrance. We’ll talk more there.”

We approached the main door, and an even younger filly opened it. Her coat was a much lighter shade of green than his, and her mane was a dirty white. In the back of the room, the colt stood behind a tipped over table, still aiming the rifle at us.

I couldn’t help but notice what appeared to be a small shrine in one of the corners. On top of it lay a pair of curved horns.

Before I could say anything, Sonata prompted, “If you would like to trade with us, get your hoof off the trigger and lower the gun.” Her voice was calm and collected, but carried a subtle threat in its tone. I knew it was a bluff, because she wouldn’t dare attack a filly and a colt, but her acting was on point. Or perhaps I was reading too much into it, and she simply meant to imply they wouldn’t get any food if they didn’t comply.

Hesitant, the colt didn’t immediately agree. “Emmy, please,” pleaded the filly. “They’re not bad ponies.”

He sighed and lowered the firearm slightly. “But don’t you try anything funny…”

“I’m… sorry. He’s been on edge since the raider attack last week…”

Sonata nodded quietly, and Lockpick spoke up, “That’s understandable, you can never be too cautious. But I assure you, we’re not like that.”

“How many caps are you willing to trade? And what about the ammo? Got any 7.62x39mm rounds? What about 9mm? .308?” Somewhere along the line, Sonata had gained a lot of gun knowledge. She wasn’t an amazing shot like Iron, but she could still handle a gun better than Lockpick or even I.

Looking distressed, the colt replied, “Uh, maybe about fifty? And I d-dunno about the ammo, you can take a look.”

As expected, his previous act was just a façade. It wasn’t too uncommon to see ponies his age act maturely; the wasteland stopped for no one, and orphans were usually forced to grow up all too quick. However, this protective maturity I’d seen before was all but gone now. Those foals must have recently lost whoever had been taking care of them. I felt bad for them, but there wasn’t anything we could really do, except maybe give them a good deal on the food.

Sonata nodded in reply, and he told the filly, “Jade, go fetch the ammo bucket please.”

When she came back down, an even younger colt was following her down the stairs. The container that the filly was carrying was obviously very heavy for her. This would have ended badly as she suddenly tripped, only to be caught in a red aura and safely levitated down.

Lockpick counted the caps, while Iron took a look inside the bucket, moving the cartridges around using her telekinesis. There couldn’t be more than three dozen bullets in there. In the wasteland, ammunition was just as valuable as water, so it made sense as a secondary currency. However, it did have the disadvantage that some cartridges were inherently worth less than others, so some ponies preferred to stay away from it, afraid of taking a bad deal by accepting payment with ammunition they did not recognise.

Emmy watched her sort through the ammo, then briefly eyed the two rifles strapped to her side. “Are you good with guns?”

“Sort of.” Sonata shrugged. “Why are you asking?”

“Well… Less than a week ago, some raiders attacked us. They killed Dad and took Mom, and maybe… We could give you all that in exchange for getting rid of them? Maybe if Mom is still alive, you could get her back…?”

“That’s not something I can do, sorry,” she replied while continuing to look through the bucket. It was true that she wasn’t particularly suited to such a venture, but it still hurt me to hear it. Even Iron wouldn’t accept to do something like that, despite having the skill. There was a point where she would have done it, if only to feel the thrill of… killing. Nowadays, she wasn’t taking any risks, and she probably didn’t feel personally responsible for their fate, either.

Maybe I could convince her—Iron, that is. Maybe she could make an exception… I did know she wasn’t heartless, so maybe a push in the right direction would entice her to help.

But the last time we convinced her to take a job she didn’t want, Lockpick, her, and Banter got badly injured. Sure, she was no longer sick, but there was no way of telling what might happen. After all, she was right to stop living dangerously.

But at the same time… there was a chance these foals’ mother was still alive. When I saw the look on the colt’s face, I realised what would happen to them. Soon they’d need to start scavenging for food or caps. Odds are, that wouldn’t be enough, and they’d all have to make their way to the closest bigger settlement. Maybe start stealing or begging to get by. Or worse…

However, I couldn’t just guilt trip Iron into helping. I would feel horrible if she ended up injured, especially now that I knew that Sonata would suffer the consequences as well. Besides, the two couldn’t really switch at will…

“Sonata, Lockpick, can I speak to you outside for a second?” I asked the two, and when they nodded, I told the three siblings, “We’ll be right back”. After my two companions followed me out, I said, “I know it’s not something we should consider… but could we see if we might be able to help them?”

Neither Lockpick nor Sonata seemed very convinced, though. It was the latter who broke the awkward silence. “You know that I’m not a fighter like Iron, right? I can handle a gun, but I can’t kill an entire raider camp on my own… And she wouldn’t accept to do it, so…”

“She’s right… We’re scavengers, not mercenaries or heroes.”

“But… we can’t just leave them like this,” I pleaded. “Do you want those foals to live through the same hardships as we did? I’m not saying we have to save them at any cost, but… can we at least check if there’s anything we can do? And we might be able to convince Iron to try; it’s not like she would struggle with a band of raiders.”

“Why do you suddenly want to be a hero?” chided Lockpick. “Things are starting to look up for us again, and you’re willing to risk it for ponies we’ve barely just met.”

“It’s not about being a hero, it’s about doing the right thing for once. Can we really walk by without doing anything?” I pleaded. “With how much fucked up shit happens in the wasteland, don’t you ever think we could do just one small thing to make things just a tiny bit better?”

Lockpick fell quiet and avoided my gaze, mumbling, “It’s not our job to do anything of the sort… We have our plate full just trying to get by…”

That wasn’t true! We were rather well off compared to most other scavengers! I didn’t want to throw it all away either, but claiming we were just barely getting by was just straight up wrong!

As I opened my mouth to retort, however, Sonata cut me off, “I think I get it… At the end of the day, the vast majority of ponies are, just like us, only trying to get by. And so, if we all just selfishly look only after ourselves, nothing will ever change. I’m not saying we can save the wasteland or anything, but we might be able to change the lives of those three foals for the better… And maybe one day they’ll help someone too. It all needs to start somewhere.”

Okay, this speech was a bit too much for me. As Lockpick wasn’t replying, I spoke up, “For me it’s not about that… When I look at those three kids, I can’t help but see myself in them… Even if we can’t help them, we should at least try something. I feel like I wouldn’t forgive myself if I just left them like this.” I sighed, looking at the ground. “I can tell that if I don’t do anything, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life; that five years from now, I’ll be falling asleep and suddenly remember how today, I didn’t even attempt to help… I will go alone if I need to.”

Lockpick finally conceded, “Fine, but promise me we won’t try anything crazy…”

After that, we went back inside but didn’t tell the foals about our plan; we had no way to guarantee that we would even properly attempt a rescue, and getting their hopes up would have almost been cruel. However, we still managed to learn the raiders’ whereabouts under the excuse of wanting to avoid them.

The raiders had set up camp in a small apartment complex; three, maybe four storeys tall. Surprisingly, Trotnot didn’t have too many buildings that appeared larger than it, with the possible exception of the clocktower in the distance.

While waiting for the night, we'd observed the building from afar, trying to get a hint of how it was laid out. Some guards sat on the few intact balconies, none of them really paying attention to the surroundings. Of course, them being raiders, it was also entirely possible that these ponies weren’t guards at all. That wasn't an assumption I wanted to make, though. Though maybe the balcony ponies are the sentries, but they’re just lousy at their job.

Now that it was close to dusk, Lockpick, Sonata, and I were hiding in a small building's shadow, less than two hundred metres away from the raider base. So far, we were just considering our options, but a potential plan was to have Lockpick and me try to sneak into the building at night, while Sonata could stay on a nearby roof and be ready to lay down some fire if things went south. This wasn’t our plan A, of course. Given that Sonata had four left hooves, it was better to not take her inside. Besides, she was the only one of us with somewhat decent firearm skills.

Occasionally, I could see ponies leave the complex to take care of their biological needs. If I was to catch one of them going about their business, could I maybe take them out of the equation before even entering the complex?

No, that was a bad idea. I had no way of knowing if I could take out a pony before they were able to make a sound. Previously, I would have doubted even being able to kill a pony with my bare hooves, but ever since I’d strangled that mare in Dodge, I was all too aware of my strength. The noises she made still haunted my nights. However, the question became whether or not I could murder a pony before they were able to alert anypony else.

Besides, I had no idea how long it would be until the next pony came out, which could potentially be after dawn. No, waiting around the whole night wouldn’t do any good. However, it was in our best interest to wait a little bit longer, until at least the signs of activity started dying down.

I could barely make out the outline of a guard on one of the balconies. Or maybe she wasn’t on watch and was just high out of her mind, or whatever it was raider ponies did when they weren’t killing innocents.

We decided to explore the area a bit more, all while carefully staying out of sight from both the raider I’d seen on this side, as well as from the complex in general. We really couldn’t be careful enough. This area wasn’t particularly dense, but none of us had really been able to get a clear look on the other side, since many houses obscured the view from further away.

I walked near a corner, carefully looking around it. As usual, I didn’t see anypony on the other side, and it seemed fairly hidden from the raider’s complex. However, I could see a way to get close to the building. I just had to get to the ruins of the other tower, and from there I’d get shrubs to cover me from potential guards. It was getting dark enough that they wouldn’t see me through the barely alive bush. If I made my way around the back, I’d only be briefly visible from the staircase windows, which weren’t clear anyway.

While this meant that I’d be unlikely to spot anypony on the inside, now that it was dark, it also meant this was a dead angle for the ponies inside. Only downside to using this side to approach was the fact that it was just one big field. In the dead grass and mud, there was absolutely nothing to hide or take cover behind. Not only would I risk getting spotted, but running away would be a hard task as well.

After I shared my plan with Lockpick and Sonata, the former protested, “That sounds like a decent enough plan, but are you sure you want to do this?”

I barely hesitated before answering, “Now that I’m here, yes. It’s not going to be easy, but it’s something I need to do, and now that I know it’s feasible, I don’t think I can really back out…”

“Fine, then I guess I’m coming in with you.”

“You don’t have to, this is my own choice,” I reassured her.

She just shook her head and rebutted, “That’s wrong. I’ll use your own words here. If you go in there and something happens to you, I’ll never be able to forgive myself, and I’ll regret it my whole life. I don’t want to follow you in, but it’s something I need to do. I might not be as quiet as you, but what if you can’t unlock the hostages’ cell? Plus, I have a very quiet gun and a horn to aim it indoors.”

She was right, and I suddenly felt very guilty about roping her in. Before I could put together a reasonable answer, however, Sonata chimed in, “I will stay out here and cover your escape; I really wish there was more I could do, but I’m afraid I’ll be more help out here than in there.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that…”

“We should probably decide on a spot for me to wait. Ideally I’d have a good angle to take on any pursuers, but also a decent escape route. What about that building?” She pointed to a flat-roofed house in front of a large open space.

“Could be good for you, but if we run through there, we’ll be out in the open for way too long.” I looked around a bit more, trying to find another vantage point for her. Even though I didn’t find one, a different idea formed in my mind. “Would you mind if we escaped through there instead?” I showed her the spot where another few buildings stood very close to the raider hideout. “We wouldn’t get shot at from the balconies, while you would still have a good angle to kill our pursuers.”

After she agreed, I made my way towards the back of the building, stopping every once in a while to wave Lockpick over. I walked around the half-dead bush, heading towards the wall. On my way, I made sure to look at the guard, who wasn’t paying much attention. I nodded, and Lockpick quietly trotted over.

At the base of the house, large pebbles were laid out as some sort of ditch; maybe to absorb water? We couldn’t walk right next to the building, as the rocks would rattle underneath our hooves. However, we were close enough that the guards had almost no visibility down here due to the angle. Maybe if they leaned out of their balcony they could see us, but they had no reason to suspect anyone was this close. As it was, we were almost entirely hidden here.

Now that I was nearby, I noticed a small staircase leading down, with a door to the basement at the bottom. This lifted my hopes up as I realised we might not need to go around the building. I went down the stairwell to examine the back entrance. It was a simple, if heavy, door. Lockpick approached it, trying the handle first, then working her magic. After a few moments, she turned the lock counterclockwise before frowning and declaring, “It’s not locked, just blocked from the other side.”

While it looked like it had definitely seen better days, I doubted it would easily come off its frame. Unlike the front entrance, which had probably once been a glass door and had long since shattered. If I bucked with my entire strength, I might be able to break the basement entrance open, but not without alerting the guards and probably waking the sleeping raiders.

Thankfully, Lockpick’s attempt at opening it hadn’t made too much noise. We also hadn’t spotted anypony using the main entrance for about an hour now, so it most likely wouldn’t be too much of a problem to go in through that.

After walking around the building, I took a careful look inside. Not seeing or hearing anything, I ventured inside, Lockpick following behind me. As expected from a place where raiders lived, it reeked. I suspected it would be worse in the rest of the building, though, as this was still relatively well aired out.

In front of me was a staircase, leading both up and down. I had no idea where to start looking. That… was something that had entirely slipped my mind. How would we even go about searching this building? Most of the raiders were probably asleep, but I couldn’t count on it, and I’d likely stumble upon some of them—asleep or not—before I’d find their prisoners. Well, all we could do now was to try and make educated guesses and avoid raiders. First off, the basement seemed like a decent option.

We walked downstairs and opened a door to what must have been the building’s laundry room before the war. Inside, another door leading to what appeared to be storage. Nopony down here, however. I doubted this room was normally used much, given it was clean, save for the dust. Normally, I’d be looking for valuable things to take with me, but given the circumstances, I could not afford to do that.

I started my way back up, Lockpick in tow. The ground floor had two apartments, the door to the left one missing entirely. Inside, I saw a display that screamed “raider”. Piles of bones—including pony skulls—lay scattered near the walls of the room. Approaching them, I noticed something I was expecting, but that nonetheless chilled my blood. Most of the bones were covered in tooth marks. Surprisingly, the room itself was somewhat clean by raider standards. No streamers made of guts decorating the walls, no splayed torsos anywhere. As a result, the stench that permeated this place was almost bearable. Of course, this place was nowhere near actually tidy. Where the raiders didn’t walk, a thick layer of grime covered the floor.

We spent the next five or so minutes looking through this apartment. In the middle of the living room, chairs were arranged in a circle around an electrical heater. The other rooms were all empty, having barely been touched by the gang. Soon enough, we found out that this place was unfortunately as empty as the basement. Lockpick stayed by me the whole time, neither of us daring to split up.

After we exited the left apartment, I turned my attention to the right one, which was locked. During the short moments it took Lockpick to open it, I pondered if it was really necessary. Not only was it unlikely that raiders actually bothered locking a door for themselves, but also, using this apartment to keep their hostages seemed stupid, even for a raider. The prisoners could just escape through one of the windows, after all.

Although it was possible that the raiders locked them up in a windowless room. That wouldn’t be completely brain dead, and meant we would actually have to try every locked door until we found the captives. As a result, we’d likely need to search every apartment that the raiders had appeared to use. Given the thick layer of dust, it dawned on me that it was extremely unlikely anypony was in here. Lockpick agreed, and we moved on to the first floor.

There, both doors were intact and unlocked. We knew we were treading in dangerous territory as the level of filth here almost matched that of the first floor’s left apartment. This meant somepony—or multiple ponies—most likely slept here. But as before, there was also the chance that the prisoners were kept here.

Actually… This was only the first floor. It wouldn’t be impossible to jump out from here unscathed. I couldn’t recall anything blocking up the windows of the first floor, so I doubted anypony was being kept in a room with an outside view. This left only the toilet and a cleaning closet—assuming the floors were laid out the same way as on the lower floors.

After informing Lockpick of that, we checked those rooms. We found them unlocked in both apartments, but thankfully empty. Thus, we moved to the second floor.

Now, we knew the third floor was the one where guards were posted, so we were hesitant on checking it out. However, it would also be the most logical place to keep prisoners. Not only would they be completely unlikely to try an impossible leap of faith out of the window, but also, escaping would be made harder by the presence of a guard.

We decided to go straight to the fourth storey, given we might need to check them all out anyway. As we climbed the stairs, sounds of conversation and commotion from the right apartment came into earshot. When we arrived at the top of the staircase, we noticed that there was a hole in the wall to our left, leading inside the apartment. My guess would have been that the raiders couldn’t get the door open, but needed a way inside. Or maybe one of them just felt particularly destructive one day.

Whatever the case, this meant we needed to be extra careful. Stopping Lockpick in her tracks, I tried to remember the floor layout for each apartment. I knew the guard would be on the balcony, and that this hole would lead to either the closet or the bathroom, and there wouldn’t be a line of sight to the guard.

Stepping through the hole, we found ourselves in the bathroom. We would still need to pass the guard at some point, but given the darkness, it was much simpler to just walk past. Trying to enter through the front door might leave us face-to-face with raiders, so at least here the risk was controlled.

Thankfully, the door leading to the rest of the apartment was open. Given Lockpick’s darker coat, I let her sneak ahead. She waved me over, and I walked past a room to the side. I saw the guard’s silhouette, but he didn’t stir as I went by.

The living room's floor was covered with grime, with two passed out raiders among it. Lockpick motioned to the storage closet, and I nodded. I stared at the sleepers, occasionally checking on the guard. On the inside of the flat, only this one door was locked and seemed to contain some of their weapons. The other two rooms contained one and two sleeping ponies each, none of which seemed to be here against their will.

Lockpick and I pulled back into the corridor of the third storey to reformulate a plan. "I'm really hoping they're not keeping their prisoners in the right apartment, because I have no idea how I'll sneak into a room full of awake ponies. We should probably check out the second floor now."

When I passed the right apartment on the storey below, I noticed something I'd missed the first time. Some of the noise was actually coming from this door, and not the one above it, like I'd previously thought. It wasn't as much a conversation as simply commotion with… with the occasional moan mixed in. Great. Lockpick already knew about that stuff, but having her stumble upon it still felt wrong. Plus it meant there was a good chance we'd get spotted as we entered.

Instead, I decided we would check out the left one first. However, after Lockpick opened the door, we found that it hadn't been touched since the war.

I sighed. There was no choice, we would need to get into a room with some awake ponies. Opting for the less risky option, I told Lockpick to wait outside and to run if the raider made any noise at all. She, however, insisted on coming in with me since she had a gun. Well, no point delaying the inevitable. She wasn't really that young anymore, either.

Thankfully, when I pushed the door open, I realised that the rutting noises came from one of the further rooms, and that it was unlikely they had heard us enter. Seeing that door in particular was closed, I breathed a sigh of relief. Light poured out from the cracks and gaps.

Unfortunately but unsurprisingly, the open rooms all turned out to be empty. Before resigning myself to attempting to enter the last appartement, I decided to take a peek through the keyhole. Given that I fully expected them to rape their captives, it wasn't out of the question that this was the room they kept them in.

What I saw chilled my blood for a split second, before immediately setting it on fire. A mare covered in grime, scars, and dried blood sat in the middle of the bed, a razorblade levitating next to her. Her face was contorted in a mixture of orgasmic bliss and sadistic joy. Underneath her lay a buck on the blurry boundary of adulthood, hooves attached to the bed and covered in several fresh and many more old cuts. Tears ran down his cheeks as he stared at a point way past the ceiling.

Wrath unlike anything I'd felt before erupted within me. Suddenly, I had but one goal, even if it would end me. I would fucking slaughter that mare.

Charging into the room, I leapt over the bed and tackled her throat with my elbow. She didn't have time to scream, barely gurgling as I tightened my grip, before even that was denied for her.

As we landed on the floor with a loud thump, the conversation upstairs came to a grinding halt. Just as I thought we were screwed, a stallion shouted, "Damn it, Edge, don't break the colt before I get a turn!" The room erupted in laughter and cheers, and their ruckus picked back up.

As I felt the mare's throat crack under the pressure, I was filled with gratitude. If it wasn't for that mare in Dodge being my first kill, I wouldn't have had the guts to murder this… this creature whose windpipe I was crushing. Her pathetic struggles filled me with spiteful joy as I choked the life out of her. Doing this to her felt genuinely… good. As horrifying as that revelation was, I knew she deserved it.

But the longer she resisted death, the angrier I grew. How dare this sorry cunt not die when I wanted her to? Just as I had that thought, she went limp. The first time I'd felt a pony die in and by my arms, I'd felt disgusted and horrified. This time, it was a mixture of spiteful glee and reprieve from my impatience.

I rolled the horrid mare off of me and stood up, before spitting on her corpse. Lockpick had been aiming at her, gun unshaky. When she realised the gun was no longer needed, she turned her attention to the young stallion. Utterly horrified, she undid his bindings. The buck, however, barely reacted to being freed. Only after a few moments did he realise somepony else was in the room, turning towards Lockpick. His blank expression slowly became more confused.

As she finished cutting through the rope, she told him with a shaky voice and a smile to match, "It's okay, we're here to rescue you." She looked at me. "Can you give me some bandages?"

As I bent my neck to pull them out, I noticed a mild, burning pain in my lower neck. After I passed Lockpick the gauze, I touched my hoof and found a fresh and worryingly deep cut. Now that I was aware of it, I realised that blood was running down my leg. On the ground, I spotted her razorblade, lying in a small pool of crimson. "I might need some too," I commented. "Bitch managed to land a deep cut on my neck." Thank Luna she'd missed the main arteries.

Her eyes widened as she ran over to me. "Oh shit, let me help you with that," she declared in a shaky, yet determined tone.

Levitating out the first aid kit, she gave the injury a few stinging swabs with disinfectant. Then, since the cut was still actively bleeding, she used her hoof to apply some pressure on the wound as she wrapped the magical bandage around my throat.

Getting priority over the poor colt made me feel selfish, but the injury was severe enough to warrant it.

As Lockpick went about treating it, I again couldn't help but marvel at how far she'd come. What a reliable young mare. Once finished, she turned her attention to the colt, while I sat down in the middle of the room—away from the dead raider.

He seemed to somewhat regain his bearings, enough to react to what was happening around him. After Lockpick finished tightening the bandage on the last of his worst wounds, he thanked her meekly.

She replied with a half smile, her tone now considerably less shaky, "You're welcome. Do you think you can walk?"

He nodded and attempted to stand up, only for his knees to buckle out from under him. "I-I'm sorry, I g-guess not," he stammered apologetically. "S-she always injects me with something that makes me feel r-really sluggish…"

That bitch… "I can carry you out when we free the other prisoners," I reassured him. "Do you happen to know where they are?"

He nodded. "We were a-all kept together in the room right above this one."

Finally some good news! I mentally exclaimed. That was probably the easiest room to stealthily reach. Only thing that worried me was that it was in the same apartment as the awake raiders, but it sounded like they were all in the living room instead. "I wonder if it's possible to reach that balcony from the one across it…" I thought outloud, standing up and trotting over to the window. Given the layout, at most a metre and a half separated the two. "I can easily make that jump, but we'll have to take the main way out of the apartment since I doubt any of the captives can risk it."

"Maybe I can levitate a door across? I think the door leading out to the stairwell is sturdy enough to support a pony," offered Lockpick, walking into the hallway to have a look at it. I heard her magic go off and saw the room grow more and more blue. She came back panting, the main door levitating in her aura. "This should do, I think."

"Lockpick, you’re a genius. I'll sneak up onto the opposite balcony while you levitate the door into place. Then you’ll have to unlock the main door of the right apartment, the one with the sleeping ponies. That way they won’t have to sneak past the guards."

"I was thinking the same."

I rested there another five minutes, letting the magical gauze heal my injury a bit more.

Getting past the guard and sleeping ponies was no challenge, though the door wasn't the sturdiest of bridges. It held my weight, but still didn't feel as steady as I would have liked. It didn't help that the entire time I was on it, I was scared it would slide off one side and plummet to the ground.

However, the reassuring part was that I saw no light coming from inside the room, confirming the colt's claims. Wait, I didn't even bother asking for his name. I mentally chastised myself.

Once on the balcony, I took a peek inside where I couldn't immediately see all that much. After a few moments of searching, I spotted a pony shape lying on the bed. I took a deep breath. Hoping he was right, I knocked on the window. This could end poorly if she was just another raider. Or he, I guess, since I can't really see that well.

The pony reacted immediately, startling upright and sitting up on the bed, briefly looking around. When her eyes settled on me, she frowned in confusion, but walked towards the window door nonetheless.

As she opened it, I briefly panicked. If it was unlocked, did this mean she wasn't a captive? My worry subsided a little when she asked, "I don't recognise you. Are you here to… save us?"

I nodded. "Precisely." I hope she isn't fucking with me. She doesn't look like a raider though, so chances are good.

"Thank the Lord below." She sighed in relief, turning my worry into pure confusion. Whatever, this wasn't the time to question her religion.

She turned her back to me and walked towards the entrance to the room. She lowered her head to the floor and whispered something to somepony apparently lying behind the bed.

Then, a male figure stood up, and a stallion about a few years older than Banter hobbled over into view. “Do… you have a plan?” he warily asked.

“Other than the obvious, no. We will just be sneaking past some sleeping raiders in the apartment over.”

“I don’t like the odds of that,” he mumbled. “But I’ll take it over staying here or killing myself.”

“Well, I was wondering about that,” I replied. “Why did they leave the windows outside open? I mean, it’s not like you could escape from here under normal circumstances, but weren’t they afraid you’d just… you know…?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “They told us we were free to jump. If we lived, they’d even let us go. Sooner or later, I would have tried.” Right, raiders. Sadistic bastards.

I was the first to cross the gap to the other balcony. That way, I could hold the plank in place on this side, while the mare held the other side and made the trip easier for the injured stallion.

After he crossed over, it was the mare’s turn. She admitted being scared of heights as she shakily climbed onto the railing.

She took a few unsteady steps before bolting forward. The sudden motion almost yanked the board out from under my hoof and off the side of the balcony. The noise that made worried me, so I whispered, “Fuck… I hope that didn’t wake any of them up.”

I turned the corner to check, but none of them even seemed to stir in their sleep. I motioned the two prisoners to follow me.

Soon enough, we were back in the stairwell. Going down a floor, we met up with Lockpick and the colt and quickly continued our descent. I offered to carry him, but he declined, insisting he would be fine.

That, however, proved to be a mistake as he only made it a few steps down before his knees buckled, and he fell forward with a loud thud.

“Moonstone!” called out Lockpick.

“What the fuck was that?” shouted one of the raiders.

Chastising myself for not insisting, I ran towards the now unconscious young buck and picked him up. His leg was bent at an abnormal angle, which made me feel even worse about not asserting myself. Too late now, I thought to myself as I continued forward.

A few moments later, I heard one of the raiders shout, “Move it, guys, the cunts are getting away!”

I ordered Lockpick to give the signal, and she pulled out a radio. Soon after, a gunshot echoed from outside. Sonata or Iron had just killed one of the guards, hopefully making our escape easier.

As we ran down the stairs, bullets hit the ground around us, but we made sure to stick to the side that was hidden from our assailants.

When we finally reached the entrance, a single raider had managed to catch up to us. Fortunately, he hadn’t bothered to arm himself, so he was little to no threat to us, as Lockpick put two bullets into his chest.

When we left, we made sure to stay out of sight of the second guard. Soon after, another shot echoed, but I didn’t look back to see what happened.

As Iron fired her rifle multiple more times, we eventually made our getaway. We were far enough away that we could hide in our meetup point and wait for her to join us. I set the colt’s bone before he woke up while we waited.

When she did meet up with us, she had a few drops of blood clinging to her mane and fur. We started walking towards the barn we had passed by this morning.

"I gotta say. As much as I don't appreciate you guys pulling this without my consent, I have to admit this was well done," said Iron Sights in a surprisingly jovial tone.

"Huh? I honestly would have thought you'd be a bit more… upset about it, even though it went almost perfectly to plan," I replied, blinking in confusion.

"While I refuse to play hero, I'm not completely heartless. Admittedly, it's mostly when it comes to foals younger than myself, but I would have felt really shitty if I'd just left them like that. Especially since those were just raiders," she clarified. That… made sense. So I was right to try to convince her… "Still, I would have appreciated being given a choice in the matter."

Well, we couldn't really have asked… Though I understood why she was annoyed. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay. I guess I'm more miffed at Sonata than you. Although I guess I can't really be all too annoyed at her. She knew I'd accept, and it's not like we can deliberately switch. In fact, I didn't get to take control until I was cornered by four raiders."

Afterwards, we set off back to the mare’s home, where we spent the night while one of us kept watch at all times.

During breakfast the next day, before we left for Trotnot, Iron brought up an idea. “So, in Riverbreak, I saw a well-paying job. Only issue is that it sounds very dangerous, so I’m unsure whether I want to do it.”

“What is it?” queried Lockpick.

“To disable the naval defenses. The reward is two thousand caps,” stated Iron.

“Wait, what? That’s a lot of caps. Who’s paying for that? Why are they paying for that?” puzzled Lockpick.

"Essentially, the mayor thinks that if the naval path from Hoofington is opened up, a lot more traders will come by through the river. Getting to Hoofington by boat and through Riverbreak will become a viable alternative for many traders. Currently it's too out of the way to get many traders."

"Why are you suddenly interested in doing jobs again?" I wondered flatly. I was partly curious, partly suspicious.

"Not just any job, this one in particular. This much caps could get us closer to your goal, just like that."

"As much as we could use the caps, I would prefer it if you didn't risk your life. Last time I dragged you into a building, you almost died as a consequence," Lockpick rebutted. “And weren’t you the one who insisted on never doing anything risky again?”

"It's different this time," countered Iron. "I'm not sick, and I have another reason for wanting to do it…" This was odd, to say the least.

I raised an eyebrow and looked her in the eye. "Well, what is it?"

"It's a bit hard to admit," she said, her voice quieter than before. "It's a bit egotistical…" she mumbled before trailing off.

"Why? Spit it out." Since when was she the shy type? She could get a bit arrogant at times, so this seemed out of character.

"I think it would help the settlement towards a good future, and I felt so proud going through Macintown and thinking it was possible because of me," she quietly explained.

I felt my brow furrow as she spoke. Was she really calling selflessness egotistical? Or was I understanding wrong? She must have misinterpreted my look, because she hastily added, "I-it’s only a small reason for why I want to do it, I s-swear…"

I sighed. "Leave it to a merc to think of a noble goal as egotistical. Well, as much as I would prefer you avoid doing risky things, after today I would be a hypocrite to deny you that."

She smiled sheepishly. "Heh… that's actually why I decided to reconsider doing it; normally I wouldn’t even think of doing something as risky."

"I wasn't down with Petal's plan, and I'm not down with this one. It’s not because Petal wanted to do something stupid that you have to as well," Lockpick protested. "Besides, think of Sonata. She'd hate it if you got her hurt like that."

"Actually… She's the one who talked me into giving it a shot. She practically wrote an essay on my PipBuck while she waited for you to get out of the building,” she admitted, tapping the device on her leg. “Don't worry though, I won't try anything I'm not confident in. If there's a roadblock, I won't attempt anything stupid. I understand my limits, and I don’t intend to actually risk my life on this job." What was up with her today? Something was wrong… It was uncommon for her to be this… awkward. She was usually more aloof than anything else.

Lockpick gave her a deadpan look. "Fine, but I'm coming with. I'll slow you down, but I know you can't break into locks or terminals as well as I can."

"You’re not. This will be a lot more dangerous than the factory near Dodge. Hoofington is notorious for having overengineered defenses everywhere," protested Iron. "You'd be risking your life."

"And it's less dangerous if there are two of us. You of all ponies don't get to treat me like a kid, especially not when you’re not acting normal. If you can choose to risk your life for a large pile of caps, then so can I," declared Lockpick. I wanted to help too, but I knew I would only be slowing them down further. “If you’re going, then I’m going.”

Iron sighed. "Fine, I guess. I’m not going to risk your life on top of mine. I knew this was a bad idea anyway. I guess Hoofington’s insanity got to me…”

“Hmm, if you say so. I was actually about to ask if you were high on Mint-Als…”

I couldn’t help but wonder if there might be more to this. Or maybe this was just the result of her being more open with us…

The rest of our trip here was spent scavenging around some old residential areas, businesses, and the industrial area. Of course, we steered clear of any place that might have actual defenses still working. Overall, we managed to make a decent sum of caps.

I was lying in my bedroll, attempting to fall asleep. We had walked a lot today, and the fatigue had accumulated, leaving me extremely tired. My mind, however, was still unable to wind down. It was constantly jumping between the excitement of finally having Banter back, the contentment of having made good progress towards our goal, and occasionally the awful scene I’d witnessed in Trotnot.

Soon, I heard Banter whisper to Iron, “Hey, so what was the real reason those ponies went after you?”

There was a silence for a few seconds, before Iron slurred a reply, “You knew?” She’d only had a bit of wine, so her tone being this unsteady was surprising.

Then again, my own head was spinning quite heavily as well, so maybe the wine was stronger than usual. Though perhaps I was also just that tired.

“I had a hunch. Tell me, what was it?” he insisted.

Iron sighed deeply enough for me to hear it all the way in my tent. “Justice for the crimes I committed, but you probably guessed that as well.” Huh?

Banter’s voice was calm when he replied, “Indeed.”

There was a while during which neither of them said anything. Eventually, Iron sighed. “When I first got there, I ended up splitting off from Bricks; nothing too dramatic, I just realised he was mostly a slaver who wanted to get me into that line of work. I was too busy with my revenge back then to bother, though.”

After a brief pause, she continued, “When Bricks left, I had no food, very little ammo, and no real leads. I tried working some basic jobs around town, helping out the citizens, but they only paid the bare minimum to survive. I knew that if I wanted to continue my search, I needed to stockpile supplies. I needed a real job. Back then, I already had experience as a caravan guard, so I hoped to find a proper job like that. Unfortunately, no one wanted to hire a filly as a bodyguard.”

She paused for a moment, as if considering what she wanted to say next. She sighed again, before speaking up. “And so, I convinced myself I needed to find another way to survive. Any other way that paid enough. I decided to be petty and take my revenge on one of the caravans that had declined my services.” There was another pause, long enough for me to start panicking about what she would say next. “I waited in ambush and shot at them from far enough away that they didn’t have the time to properly react. It felt good; not only had I finally managed to get some more caps—and a solid chunk at that—but I’d also proven to myself that I was not only good enough to protect them, but also to take them down.”

My heart raced as silence draped over the two of them. I’d known Iron had some shady dealings as a mercenary, but I never would have imagined she would do something as awful as attack a caravan. Finding out that the pony I respected most had been a petty bandit… It hurt.

The part that stung the most, though, was that she hadn’t even bothered to tell us the truth, even after promising to do so.

“But I didn’t stop there. I attacked more caravans; three to be exact. I only went for poorly armed ones, as properly guarded ones would have been too difficult to take down alone. Every time, I made sure to leave no witnesses. I foolishly thought I would never get caught, but my fifth attack ended in disaster. I escaped with my life, but knew I couldn’t let myself be seen in Dodge ever again. For a time being, there was a bounty on my head all around that region, but I guess most ponies found it hard to believe a filly would turn to banditry.”

While I cried tears of betrayal, she continued, “I’ve murdered many innocents over those few months, but the worst I’ve done is kill two foals, just a few years older than I was. This was the first time I felt guilty over ending another life. Even I understood that I’d done something horribly, horribly wrong.”

“Is that the only part you regret?” flatly asked Banter. How could he be so calm‽ I wanted to scream, but found my body refusing to cooperate.

“No. I regret it all, and it’s not because of the consequences I have had to face… It’s true that I used to be a complete monster, but eventually I came to realise just what I’d done.” Another long, calm silence draped over them while I was panicking alone in my tent.

Finally, Iron broke it, breathing in deeply. “When I started work as a hired gun, killing was easy. I pulled the trigger, and it was done. But every time I killed somepony around Candy’s age, the guilt was harder to suppress. Eventually, it started spreading; I’d shoot someone, only to be reminded of somepony else I’d murdered. Before long I was crushed by the guilt of all the innocents I’d slaughtered.”

“I… wow. I wasn’t expecting you to feel like this about this whole thing. I’d seen the glee you took in killing, and I assumed you were just a step or two above a raider,” Banter quietly admitted. “I wish I could say this means everything is fine, but I can’t.”

Iron sniffled. “I know. Nothing I do can make up for the atrocities I’ve committed. I understand that all too well, which is why I’m being honest with you. My actions have harmed you, and you deserve to know the full story… If you say the word, I’ll leave tonight and you will not hear from me again. I’ve already given my cap stash to Lockpick and Petal… you can keep it.”

If my body had been able to move at all, I would have no doubt been sobbing right now. This wasn’t okay! I didn’t want to forgive her. She was awful! But I didn’t want her to leave, either. I wanted to beat on her chest and call her every insult I knew. I wanted to have her beg for forgiveness. Instead, I found myself feeling pity for her.

“That won’t be necessary, Iron. Leaving now will not fix my legs, and neither will those caps. The harm you’ve caused won’t go away with you, so I would rather have you next to us as a friend. Although, I’ll ask that you tell Petal and Lockpick what you told me. I can’t speak for them, but I forgive you.” Why? Why would he do that? I wanted to scream, but my body wouldn’t allow it.

Iron started quietly crying, babbling incoherent words of thanks. After a few moments, she asked the question that had been on my own mind. “But why?”

“Like I said, kicking you out now won’t make anything better. It might make things worse, in fact, because despite everything, I still consider you a friend. On top of that, knowing that you genuinely regret your actions makes it a lot easier to forgive you. Just… don’t keep secrets anymore, even if they’re awful.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“I won’t ask that you tell me your entire life story right here and now, but I’d still like to hear more. I want to know what I’m dealing with, and if we need any more precautions,” he explained, just as collected as before.

“I… uh…” Iron hesitated. “I don’t really know where to start. I’ve… been doing the same thing for Petal and Lockpick. The only thing I’ve lied to them about was the caravans.”

“I dunno either…” He paused to think for a moment. “Why not tell me about Bluemoon? Did you really tell us the whole story?”

“Mostly, yeah. He was my only friend for the many months I worked with that particular group of mercs. However, I would drink myself unconscious nearly every day, and he had to pay the price.”

“How did you even get a job with that group if your addiction was that bad?”

“It wasn’t. When I first joined, it was still manageable.”

“What happened?”

Iron sighed. “I’m gonna need to go on a tangent, first… So, I told you how my guilt got worse every time I murdered a young adult. I’d get reminded of Candy, and how I felt after losing her. Before long, I started realising that everypony I slayed had someone they’d leave behind.”

She sniffled a few times. “It got so bad that, every time I was sober, I would start thinking about the ponies I’d killed. The siblings I’d slaughtered in Ponyville. The foals whose parents I snuffed out for some gang boss. The caravan ponies I extinguished out of petty revenge. None of these deserved what happened to them, and my mind couldn’t stop reminding me of it.” She tried to continue, but her own voice got caught in her throat as a sob interrupted her. For a few minutes, her quiet sobs were all I could hear from the two.

Eventually, she calmed down enough to pick up where she’d left off. “And it only got worse. The other mercs laughed at me the only time I brought it up, saying that it’ll get easier when I got more experience, that killing gets easier the more you do it.”

And yet, it only got harder and harder. The only one who was willing to listen to me was Bluemoon. And yet, I didn’t want to talk. Thinking about it hurt more than anything, and the blissful state that alcohol provided was the break I needed.” Her voice was extremely unsteady, and the longer she talked, the slower the words came out. Even I could tell she was trying her hardest to not break down crying.

“Hey, I asked you to take off the mask. Stop pretending like you’re not on the verge of tears. Come here,” he gently scolded. This reminded me that, despite everything, he was still Banter. He was still basically my older brother and was clearly willing to become one for Iron as well.

The sound of movement, followed by muffled crying. Meanwhile, I was trying to decide how I felt. I’d managed to calm down quite a bit, but my brain was in a state of tug of war. One side wanted to forgive, and the other wanted to hate. The chaos in my mind was such that I couldn’t follow any particular train of thought, but it felt like forgiveness was winning.

What snapped me out of it, however, was the sound of magic, followed by somepony drinking from a cantine. “Pretty much the only ponies I don’t feel bad killing are raiders,” mumbled Iron.

“Is compassion, misguided as it might be, really such a bad thing?” he asked in a reassuring tone.

“No, I guess not,” was the last thing I heard Iron say before she started gently snoring.

This simple exchange finally let my exhausted mind drift off to sleep.