All Roads Lead Home

Chapter Eleven:
The Last Hero

“For a moment, I saw him.”

Even hours after…

Those pallets fucking killed my back, even if I slept for a sum total of a few minutes. I wouldn’t suggest it to others. The pain already started subsiding when we left Standpoint. Just wish there was another station between it and the next, not a long ass tunnel with no service doors. Eventually, we came to an opening.

The sight was jaw dropping for Sea Mist, though. To the rest of us, these were just the ‘famous’ waterfalls surrounding the entrance of Apple Station. Massive waves of melting snow, racing through the sewers to crash into the void below. I glanced over the side of the bridge as we crossed to get a better look at the perpendicular one below, and the pit past that. I couldn’t help but wonder how far down it actually went. I also couldn’t help but cuddle my rifle’s sling as more… intrusive thoughts emerged.

“Beautiful, right?” A voice asked. Ama— his voice asked. I turned, almost instantly, and found…

Nothing.

Nothing but cold air and the whispers in the tunnel.

“You coming?” Sea Mist poked me.

I nodded, a few tears rolled down my cheeks. Truthfully, I wanted to keep watching the waterfalls, but we had places to be. I wiped my eyes and trotted after the party.

At the end of the tracks was a large hermetic steel door, with little wiring packed into even tinier holes above it for the lights and speaker. A symbol was drawn on its exterior: A circular green, gray, and gold hooked arrow pointing to its own tail. We had finally made it to the Ring. Only a few more stations till home…

Dusk gave the metal a little knock. Nothing happened. She narrowed her eyes and gave me a smirk. Quickly I covered Sea Mist’s ears.

“EEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeee!”

“Okay! Okay! We hear you! Spirits be damned…” A voice pleaded from the speaker.

Dusk grinned from ear to ear at the skeleton key the Zone gave her. As for me? Well what do you think?

The side hinges gave a loud pop followed by a long hiss as hidden locks moved.

“Now that is a big door.” I whispered to no one in particular. I’m pretty sure Blue did the same. A multiple-meter thick slab of metal that smoothly creeped over the rail seemed to just beckon for acknowledgement. Though the wait was… could it hurry up? I wasn’t exactly in the mood to be with my thoughts right then.

Sea Mist looked back at me just as I started tapping one of my back hooves, because of course she would. “You okay?”

“Yeah! Just… uhhh… excited to see who I can help.”

She gave me a slight brow raise before scooting back to me. “What did I say about treating me like a foal?”

Luckily, I didn’t need to answer her. I was saved by the bel— or in this case I guess it would be the door’s siren. “I’m not. It’s nothing.” I trotted off towards the familiar sandbags and guns.

The nice deer at the customs tables stamped me through pretty fast, too. We were probably the first trackers they had in a while, judging by the drool running down one of the sleeper’s faces.

Apple Station was a two-story pylon station, much like the other locations in the Ring. Dual stairs rose on both sides of the hall, separated by space and a centered track that ran further inward, to a massive central turntable. In the old days, elders said places like these were the jugular of the city; a station that could connect you to any and every line. Now the heart was a bazaar, filled with working terminals, clothes, and, of course, weapons.

But what truly made this place stand out was the adjacent halls through the gaps in the pylons. Apartments, schools, even a small band playing cool jazz all neatly sectioned into the spaces provided. The zebra and deer lived on the same level, unlike the Old Guard, and indulged in each other's culture.

In the crowds that passed, I thought I saw something. A head wrapped in cloth leaned on the wall. It felt like it was smiling; one of those sadistic grins you never really feel. The stranger waved, revealing bones where their hoof should’ve been, before putting on a cowboy hat and disappearing with the flow of the crowd.

I gave chase.

“Serenity?!” I heard Hoarfrost holler from behind, but didn’t acknowledge it. I just pushed through the crowd looking for that damn hat. None of the scolding or passive aggressive gestures of the deer nor zebra bother me either because I found him. Retribution stood just at the other end of the whole station, past the bazaar. I could see the bitch!

Why? Why did I follow him? I couldn't explain why… but wouldn’t you? If the spirit of Fate itself decided it needed to show up personally. Did we have unfinished business or—

phhhfffttt

So we did… or why else would he taunt with riffling?

I pushed out of the crowd into the area where he stood, next to a cave-in. Rocks covered with wax from dying colorful candles, vases with anemones, and paint. Paint that bled down from a mural above. I could glance up to the edge of its circular base. It read: 17. Just that made the memories start slowly trickling in…

You’re okay, Serenity. Just look for distractions!

I tried breathing. It always used to work. But no matter how much I tried to slow my mind to match my breath… Well, let's just say it was an impossible race.

I glanced at where Retribution should’ve been and of course he was gone. That fucking asshole.

“Bitch.” I finally let out after an unhealthy amount of glaring at the ground. I keep my eyes down flooding my brain with white noise. Grain out the moments coming into my head, so I could weasel away from the mural. It was nothing but a cave-in and I’d like to keep it that way.

I continued staring at my hooves, walking me down the halls. After a while, I finally felt— safe isn’t the right word but it was the only thing that surfaced from the mind’s ocean of static. That and… phantoms.

My dreams were better than this. A pair of colts, no older than five or six, were everywhere. Every food stand, bench and path laughing, crying, chasing one another. A monochrome tragicomedy of a zebra and his little pony brother just for my eyes alone.

Lucky me…

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Wait, I think I remember this church…

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Oh… yeah, this is where tíà died.

I sat there. The step right below the top.

The little monochrome pony hid his face in his hooves on the steps. He made no sound, but didn’t try to hide the tears flowing down his cheeks and forehooves. Within a single unconscious blink, the zebra colt from before was next to him. He consoled the pony, rubbing a hoof up and down his back. At the stand nearby, the zebra also bought him fish on a stick. One last blink, and they were back to chasing each other away in bliss. Straight into adolescence.

As I kept walking down the street, my gut twisting as slowly that pair’s relationship turned sour. As the pony grew, naturally, so did his dysphoria. He wasn’t like anyone else… sure he was raised in zebra culture, practiced the same faith, and even spoke some of the mother tongue, but he always felt like a tourist. The other zebras his age didn’t help that at all. Echoes of jumpings in alleys stopped only by his brother– sometimes– others would just treat him as the other. So he took it out on his brother. Screamed and cried that he would never understand. He was a perfect child, one that brought warmth with his words and actions. How could he understand?

All the phantoms became twisted, bled from monochrome to rustic. Each instance of fighting in front of in front food stands, in alleyways, and on walks. Every single one, the pony ran and left brother alone. He was good at running. He always was.

The shadows stopped dancing as I glanced up at one of the buildings. It was a mushroom tea shop. I heard back in the day it was famous enough to bring travelers from all around the metro into its walls. I never really cared for it, and it seems everyone thinks the same now. Through the chicken-wire windows there were no customers, only a bored teen at the register trying to pay for schooling…

I don’t even remember why I picked this building, but my vision slowly flattened and tunneled when I looked into the alley next to it.

Huh, the layout hadn’t changed after all this time. I hopped onto the dusty makeshift dumpster and started to climb. Each hoofhold in the wall felt like an old friend as I climbed higher and higher out of the shadow, and into the fluorescent light above.

There was a familiar figure up there already. Tan and slim with a messy mane of dirt hair, stripes running down his back. The pony just sat there on the edge watching the world below. I took off all my gear, putting it neatly into a small pile, before going to sit next to him.

He took in a few quick, deep breaths. Look over to me and said, “I’m sorry to annoy you, but I can’t sleep—“

“How many times have you heard that before?” Retribution cut him off.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk? Fucking die.”

“Cute,” He snickered. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’ll certainly outlive you.”

I turned around to see the old duster and hat. The light bent around him, as if at his will. Most of his face was casted into shadow with that same subject.

“So you gonna talk or…?”

“No, no. I'm right where I need to be in the play.”

“Annoying me?”

Fate shook his head. “Waiting. These things take a bit of time, nurakhu. We could play a game, if you’re really that bored already.”

“I’m good.”

“Maybe,” He grinned. “All relative terms.”

This fucking tail sniffer.

“Well that’s a rude comment,” Retribution continued. “I wasn’t joking. I say exactly what I mean to.”

“Then humor me.”

“With why?”

“Don’t play coy, yudipota! Just answer.” I snapped.

“So much more anger… yet a foe like me is no match for mortals, certainly not you. I’m just waiting for an answer,” He raised a hoof. “So are you ready to take my offer?”

I turned away. “No.”

“Disappointing. I’ll give you a few minutes to reconsider.”

“Can’t you just fuck off!” I snapped.

“Oh… uh… sorry. I-I didn’t know anyone was up here.”

A zebra stood where the spirit had. His hooves trembled, ready to give way at the slightest breeze.

How didn’t I hear him come up?

“I can leave if—“

“No, it’s fine. Really. Sorry for yelling at you. I just haven’t been having a great day.” I cut him off.

The young stallion sat down at my side on the ledge. “Me neither… I— Mmmm…” he glanced away from me before asking, “Are you a kalág?”

“No.”

“But I’ve never seen stripes on—“

“I’m just…” I searched for the right word but nothing felt earned. I had to settle on what was given. “A nurakhu.”

“You make it sound horrible, but what’s so bad about being a nurakhu? You can talk to the spirits! You can ask why…”

The slight drag on his last word twisted my gut. “Why do you ask that?”

The zebra shifted on his hooves.

“Sorry. Let’s restart this,” I cleared my throat before adding. “I’m Serenity.”

“Kiburi. Are you sure you’re not a spirit?” There was a hint of spite in his tone.

“I don’t see where this is—“

“Your name— oh sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Kiburi verbally pounced on me mid-sentence.

I waved for him to continue.

“O-okay,” His mouth betrayed him, cracking into a small grin. One he quickly whipped away. “Your name. It sounds like it should belong to a spirit like: Vigil, Hope, or Retribution.”

I felt the blood race down my cheeks as Retribution leaned out from behind Kiburi’s head. First was his hat, then came his impossible grin. Joy stolen from the colt but twisted it into something more. Something existential. A reminder for me, but for what… wait.

“Kiburi, why did you come up here?”

His eyes shot down to the ground and Retribution wrapped a hoof around him. “Come on, totò.” He slipped between his voice and his own. “Help him. If you can.”

How?

Hell, what would he– Amani… What would have Amani done?

…

No. What would I do?

Kiburi stared over the edge, his hooves shaking. Itching tremble slowly grew more steady and harsher, but no tears came. I joined him, glancing down at the little groups walking to and fro on the street. Some were going to work while others were going home, both dragging their hooves behind them, as the lights of the station silently dimmed to signify evening had begun. It felt like hours as the streets fell silent and an idea came to mind.

“If you really want to die, I’d suggest a higher building,” His ears perked up at my words. “The fall… it’ll just hurt.”

His head whipped around. “But I… How’d you— no. No! How would you know?”

“Just a thought I had from halfway down.”

I let the words hang out there for Kiburi. He tightened his brow, searching through my eyes for some understanding but I gave him only static. This was nothing but a repeat of an old story, just not a monologue.

After I felt he had more than enough time, I added, “So, what happened?”

“How would a pony understand?” His stoicism didn’t crack. Not an inch. “She’s gone because of your kind.”

Kiburi’s lip began to quiver as he scuffed, “Why would the spirits send you?”

The comment widened Retribution’s grin. Yet just as quickly as that joy came, it vanished on the tune of a whistle that haunted the air. The crevasses of his skull deepened as his eye sockets darkened. With a blink, Retribution was gone. I whipped my head around to see what he did but only found a griffon. The big— well, they were actually smaller than Gage but still big— slick, black bird, with orange eyes and long braids within their crest feathers, was just watering some flowers on a nearby balcony. They even gave a little smile and wave when they noticed me looking over. Why would Fate be scared of a normal bird?

I shook my head and turned back to Kiburi, face hidden back in his hooves. At that moment, It felt like a warm, dry… claw? Maybe a hoof? Something. Something touched my forehead soothingly. I could think clearly.

He wasn’t really expecting an answer. Just raging against the world and its imperfections.

I just saw… me. But then who am I? I’m not Amani. I didn’t wait for anyone. I ran. I ran because it makes me feel better, because it was easy. I can’t let someone become as weak as m—

“I just feel like I don’t understand anything.” He finished my sentence.

I sighed. “Me too.”

Kiburi clipped a little beat with his hooves. “S-sorry for lashing out.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Do… Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

My ears shot up. “Sure, if I can also ask one.”

“Uhhh…”

“Another time then.”

“O-okay,” He took a deep breath. “What are you? I know you’re not a spirit but…”

“I know. Well, if you want the boring answer, I was just raised by zebras. No. I don’t know anything about my blood parents, nor do I really want to. They left me, but I still have— had a family… though I don’t know what I am.”

“I guess I’m not alone.”

I wanted to tell him everything would be alright, but that’s a lie. What good would lying do? The world is unfair, but… I think I’m starting to see what Dusk does. What Sea Mist believes in. What Hoarfrost, even if not wholeheartedly, fights for. It’s a warm feeling. Something that language fails to express.

“Does it get better?” Kiburi asked.

I paused. Memories slowly peeked out of their hidden doors. Frozen frames from the last few days.

“Does it get better? Cause I just feel lost.” He leaned closer, his pupils growing.

“Honestly…? Yeah. It does seem to get a little better, but it varies.”

“When?”

That made me bow my head.

Kiburi scooted a little closer to the edge. “That’s what I thought.”

I took a few deep breaths, then sighed again. “Look. I'm not the best with words but… umm… if you really believe that it doesn’t get better. That happiness passed you by, like the snowflakes above, then I won’t stop you. Not that I ever could. It’s your choice. For better or for worse.”

I got up, put my gear back on, and looked over the edge one final time before quietly repeating for myself. “For better or for worse.”

I left him be. To think about his view from halfway down. Falls like these define who you really are. I hope Kiburi wasn’t like me. With a heavy heart, I climbed down the floor below. Back into the shadows.

Thinking was hard. All that was running through my mind was questions centered around Kiburi. Did I say the right things? Would he listen? I guess I had to wait to find out. Spirits, I hope he just listens to his stripes. You don’t have to be nurakhu to hear them. It’s what connects every zebra to the Infinite. A whirlpool of traditions brought upon each one’s connection to the world.

In every school, we were taught about the original tribes back home, the ones conquered by the oppressors from the sky. Roughly two centuries of culture war under an iron hoof. Two centuries until one tribe, with the forced help of others, slaughtered the conquerors. Those who survived, disappeared. Their ‘honor’, power… even their language was taken. When the tribe’s leader thrusted his blade through the ruler’s heart, he took his crown and placed it upon his head. He looked to his warriors as he declared himself something more than before: Caesar, the title of the pony at his hooves. From that day, the other zebras felt it in their stripes that a new oppressor was born. The culture war never ceased and tribes, at least the ones that were quick, left with their culture and faith before Caesar could take it from them. Traveling across continents to new locations or to join other tribes. The homelands were home no longer. So much lost in a trade for a ‘superior’ culture, one that could ‘never’ be conquered again.

Hopefully Kiburi will listen. Realize he’s another in a long line of broken people. That sure, he may not see the point right now but… it’s funny how we always seem to find the strength to go on. It’s in his natural… born… stripes.

But what does that make me? The paradox? Am I the oppressor or the oppressed? Does it even matter what I think? Both sides don’t claim me, so I guess I’m just the other. A thing. Even if the culture is all I know.

I really wish someone would’ve talked to me like I did Kiburi….

I didn’t like those thoughts, but it’s hard to think about anything else. So I decided it was time to knock on the sky again. To say hello to my childhood hero.

I weaved through the crowd, back to the destroyed exit. Well because if the Infinite was in the mood to shut down my day, I might as well add onto it. I rested my hooves just before I got to the wall, removing all my gear like burdens. I feel the randoms on the street staring at my stripes. Stripes, I’m sure, they believed I didn’t earn. Honestly, I was starting not to care…

The exit to Apple Station was originally to the surface; a vein many stalkers used to keep the station in excellent health. Now it was a tomb of rocks, steel, and concrete. A shrine for one: 17. I wonder if the Order ever thought they’d live long enough to have seventeen leaders. Seventeen pillars of the community. 17 buried whatever bits of bones, loose muscle fiber and personal will was left. He must have had a lot… because I still feel it with every single hoofstep towards that wall.

I took in breath and stepped forward.

It does get better… even if only a little.

I exhaled and took another step.

I can only hope, but yet…

I couldn’t do it. I fell to my knees right in front of the wall.

Hope is a self inflicted punishment.

I tried to look up, but my eyes stopped once again at the bleeding 17 at the bottom of the mural. My vision began to grow staticky as the edges vignetted into black. Like the world was flattening, as my eyes were giving into the pressure. Little pins all over my body. I wanted to scream, but for what?

All I could do was shakily touch the wall, but even that shot needles everywhere. I recoiled, dropping all my weight onto the floor barely managing to hold myself up with my hooves. I didn’t even realize I was crying.

A pair of hooves wrapped around me. “Amani really loved you, Serenity. You know that, don’t you?”

It looked like Amani at first but I rubbed my eyes and saw Sea Mist.

“What would you know?” I sharply exhaled.

“I have a pretty good idea of who you are.”

“You look into my head again for that one?”

She shook her head. “I heard the stories from Hoarfrost and others: Amani, the 17th and youngest leader ever of the Order, and his younger brother who was attached to him at the hip. I also heard from Dusk… what you tried to do. That’s why you left home, isn’t it?”

“I’m not as strong as them. I’m not a charismatic politician or a bold stalker. I was never a stalker to begin with. And I’m certainly not him!” I finally found the strength to look up at the mural as I pointed. On the rubble still filled with candles, layers of wax melted into the decaying stone, They captured my brother’s image perfectly. Even down to the funny little charcoal dipped tips of his white dreads that he was always so proud of. They didn’t make him stoic; he was anything but. Instead, he was smiling— laughing even— in front of the glowing sun. For everyone, he’s what they imagined sunlight felt like.

“Serenity… we talked about this. You don’t have to feel bad. We –”

“I don’t feel bad! Hell, I don't even know why I feel… empty.” I cut her off.

Blue sighed, “Serenity, you can’t just keep attacking yourself forever.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?”

“You’ll kill yourself.”

I couldn’t help but look away from her. Sea Mist tried to tighten her hug but I tugged it loose. Honestly, I expected Retribution to show, but shit… I guess he had enough of my sorrows. Nothing but faceless masses of deer and zebra trotting past. Even the griffon from earlier was there, watering the flowers— they looked like anemones— of a small stand. Then my eyes landed on a familiar face in the sea of the bodies. A young zebra from the rooftops, he wasn’t smiling but he didn’t look as sad either. He was just Kiburi.

“Hey Blue,” She jolted a little at my sudden words. “Do you believe in a higher power?”

She furrowed her brow for a moment. “I… I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“This world it’s— well if there is a god, their light was taken from us like the sun a long time ago. But, if there isn’t then I guess we’re just nothing. I don’t believe there’s nothing. Though I can see why others can. Now, I may not follow a structured, specific religion, but I still believe in something. I think that’s what matters. Not necessarily believing simply in a god or gods, but something. Believing in something.”

That was beautiful. Words Amani would’ve loved.

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier i-it was mean.

“No, no. I know you’re trying. It’s okay,” She tightened her hug just that little bit more. “We’ll get there. Even if it’s foalsteps.”

I looked up at Amani’s mural and cracked a grin.

Would you look at that, noy? It’s like you never left.

“What was he like?”

I turned to get a better look at her before completely returning her embrace. “You. Exactly like you.”

“Really?” That made Sea Mist blush. I know because I could feel the warmth from her face on my collar.

“Yeah. Makes me proud of you, Sea Mist, and you should be too.”

We held each other for… spirits only know how long. Just letting the seconds turn to minutes. Real connection.

“So, before this gets awkwardly long–”

“It’s far past that.” Blue cut me off with a chuckle.

“Hehehe… yeah. So, you wanna go try some fish?”

She raised a brow. “Fish?”

I made the same face when Amani first asked me that. Glad he forced me to eat it, or I would’ve never touched it.

“Mhhh,” I gave a full smile. “I know a great little vendor nearby. Come on! You’ll love it.”

Blue was really trying to study if this was a ploy or not. Ultimately, she shrugged.

“Cool. Just give me a second here real quick,” I got up and touched his mural, putting my forehead to the stone before whispering, “mano po, noy.”

I turned around before she could ask me what I said. Then I told her exactly the statement every tragedy the zebra survived was followed by. “Come on, bi. Let's eat.”