All Roads Lead Home

Chapter Fourteen:
Friendship

“He who loves the most, regrets the most. Let’s not live a fantasy.”

Five years…

Yeah, I kept track. Every day, just about. Daydreaming of snow in a land of dust. Hard to conceptualize emotions like those. Each hoofstep was a breath closer to dread, excitement, smiles, and tears. One massive contradiction in my chest that my head could do nothing about. Nothing, but pray.

Only the Infinite could save me from whatever came next, and we know how it feels about me.

“So what’s it like?” Sea Mist was bouncing between the rails in front of Dusk.

Dusk snickered. “Serenity never said anything?”

The young unicorn shook her head.

“Damn,” Dusk whispered while giving me a side-eye. “Well, it’s—“

“Beautiful,” I cut in. “The biggest of all the stations. Every wall and building splashed with color. It’s like a warm kitchen; always inviting even to those who’ve never been.”

Hoarfrost threw a hoof around my neck. “Well that’s certainly one way to put it!”

Sea Mist giggled and started trotting a little faster. She was the first to stop at the entrance to Friendship station. The stable dweller stared up at the hermetic stable door. She whipped around fast enough to almost fall over. “Wait, there’s more stables here than just 27!”

“Yeah. 27 and,” I pointed to the center of the gear. You could barely make out the symbols in it. Not wear and tear just a half-assed paint job to cover it. “83.”

“So this station is a stable?!”

“Nope. We just stole their doo—” A wing smacked me on the back of head.

Dusk was glaring at me. “Serenity!”

“What? We did.”

“But you make it sound like Friendship committed a crime for it.” She and Hoarfrost walked over to the small control next to the door and began calling the control operator on the other side.

Sea Mist gave my sleeve a small tug.

“Yeah?”

She began rubbing the top of her pipbuck. “What… happened to stable 83?”

I gave her a shrug. All I could give her were rumors from stalkers, but Blue would’ve been disappointed with that; she was already pouting.

“I’m sorry, Misty. No one has ever seen a stable dweller from 83. From what I heard, the first stalkers to explore it said it was like touring a museum. Just empty diagrams in rooms without a single speck of dust.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t worry. Most folks don’t even think the stable was used. They found all the blue suits, like yours, still boxed up in the storage room.” It seemed my added smile cheered her up, even if only a little.

The single cased light above the stable door jolted to life. It flickered and spun, signaling all to stand back as the hidden pins decompressed, hissing like vipers about to sink their fangs in. Smoothly, the door glided back over the rails, before being rolled aside. Inside, just a few meters behind sandbag emplacements on both sides of the tracks, were guards, armed and armored to the teeth. The symbol of the Order was on the breast of each one.

Dusk smiled back at me. “Welcome home.”

Then she wrapped a hoof around Sea Mist and walked in. The guards raised their heads high, because of course they would. Everyone knew the daughter of 16: Dawn Spark, leader of the Order. A pony who sacrificed limbs for lives. Arguably the greatest leader if 17…

isn’t…

counted.

…

Pins.

Pins danced from my heart outwards, till every hair was on end. Eventually, a warm wave followed. I… I couldn’t describe it. Warmth could mean anything. Sure, I could be happy, but why did I feel like I needed to vomit? Was it just build up? A warning, like a door's light? If it was a smile, then why did it feel like my heart was being pulled? Played like…

Jazz.

Conflicting. Dancing. Compromising. Changing. There was a whisper of it. Those notes punching through the air from within the station, begging to be let free from the walls that lock it in place. An emotion like that of a faded memory you can’t quite remember, but hope with all you are, with everything you have, that it will come back.

But that’s a demand, when hope is more vomit trying to punch it’s way–

I blew chunks onto the floor.

“Serenity! You okay?” A hoof rubbed my back.

I grasped Hoarfrost’s shoulder for support. “Yeah… Just burns.”

“Hey,” he gave me a few firm pats on the back. “You’re not alone here.”

Hoarfrost helped me trot past the guards. I highly doubt they’d remember me. I was never big on actually talking with anyone in the Order besides Dusk, her father, and well… you’d know by this point.

But it was hard to forget a place like Friendship Station. Even after all these years, it hadn’t changed. Chicken wire, sheet metal, mud brick buildings stacked, making the grid of life and the streets folks lived through. There wasn’t much difference to other stations, save for the sheer size of the city, or the fact that you could see the ceiling. Bright fluorescent lights; how many other places could even afford to run just a single one? Not even the Old Guard would dream of it. Sure, those stations shared similar street art here and there, or maybe even the occasional burn marks. But bullet holes? …That’s what set Friendship apart.

Countless little craters littered everywhere, in walls and floors. The people born here knew the stories of revolution and peace more than anyone else. Each hole had defined the value of a life. It wasn’t like the social contract of the world fell with the bombs and then everyone revealed their wicked hearts. No. That old world hadn’t died; It would’ve been too easy. Instead, old systems merely changed the currency to its real value: life. You trade life, with each cartridge exchanged to extend yours, or you steal it from others with each round fired.

No one paid them much mind, though. History wasn’t gonna change the future, or pay rent. It was easy to steal your mind away with work; work, and dream. Who cares if the world was ending? Their shifts start in five minutes; it could wait. They had that dream to chase. That’s why they sped up and down the streets with their chests out, a dream as sweet as the tune from a hidden guitar player. The music wasn’t like the jazz from before: It was plucked, ever so gently. A simple melody. The same one Sea Mist found in my soul at Dry Station.

It was a splash of color rippling out over primordial blackness.

But, that’s the thing I don’t get. What dream could they be chasing? The tune is everything in nothing; an idea that if we search long enough, we’ll find something… or at least we hope to. Actors begging the director for our motivation.

Was I playing my part right?

“Hey,” I didn’t even notice Dusk had switched spots with Hoarfrost. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just… surreal, I guess.”

“You still remember where home is, right?”

I nodded.

“Good.” Dusk smiled before continuing. “I’m gonna take Hoarfrost to the embassy, and I need to head home.”

“Wait, what about Misty?”

“Cute, you switched the name. Well you brought her to hell, so you got it!” She snickered as she happily trotted away. Sea Most walked over to me as Hoarfrost and Dusk disappeared within the sea of heads.

Misty looked up to me, “So, where next?”

“Home,” I sighed. “It’s not too far.”

I wasn’t lying about the physical distance, even if every step closer increased it. Slowly, the mixed streets turned into stripes, and just stripes, as we crossed into Zebratown. The name always made me snicker; could you imagine a place that accepts everyone, and yet they segregated themselves anyway?

How does that old pony saying go? ‘The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife’? Nah; that was undercutting it. There was enough tension here to drown in. They didn’t have to say anything; Each zebra just stared while working as we passed by. To them, we look like nothing but tourists, exploring the ‘exotic’ part of the station. Sea Mist sold it well, but this was all new to her. Not to me.

Eventually we reached the heart of the community, and there stood a little two story shop, the front covered in flowers, shadowed on either side by two large apartment buildings. A little wooden sign was nailed above door:

Aurora’s Repairs

I tried the door, but it was locked. So instead, I trotted over to one of the pots and pulled up the plant. We always kept a spare in nanay’s favorite flower: Starfrosts, big flowers that never seem to age.

All I had to do was open the door. This was home. The little repair shop…

Screw it.

I unlocked the door and pushed it open. The creak echoed through the empty room. The different radios and gem-tools glistened in the fresh ray from the doorway. Sea Mist squeezed past me and looked around, but didn’t say anything. I think she was scared to break me out of that moment. I can’t help but thank her for that.

I ran a hoof over one of the counters— not to find dust, no; mom hated a dirty workplace— feeling the bumps and scratches. All the sleep lost next to her, and dinner spent there, were dead silence. Static memories that slowly made my heart race.

“So you grew up here?”

I softly looked over to Misty relaxing. “Yeah… you wanna see the actual house?”

She nodded and guided her up a little staircase hidden in the very back of the workshop.

There were never real ‘doors’ in this household. Sure, we had a front door, but it was still a very foreign concept to my family. Every doorway was just covered with cloth, but nana, the eldest, was respected with a door, and the closest room. Family is important to zebras; more than anything else in the world. Our parents raised us, the least anyone could do is help them in their twilight years. I never really went into her room that much. There were two more, technically three, but the living room/kitchen was divided with a wall of boxes. That’s where mom and dad slept. Well, if they weren’t passed out at their jobs from pushing themselves so much. But when they were home, they laid on their old mattress looking into their children’s room…

I wonder if they still smiled at the sight.

I tried to walk past the small pictures of a graduation, birthdays, and other memories I wasn’t ready to experience again yet, but Sea Mist had stopped following me. She was just staring at the wall. At my life. It must be weird to see it like this for her. Did Misty’s spell look like this toher?

Before I could continue the thought, she pulled out a small picture from her suit’s breast pocket. It was the one of my acceptance to the Order. Sea Mist rested it on the frame of Amani’s own acceptance ceremony. She stepped back and smiled before looking over to me for, I guess, a weird sense of approval. All I could give her was a cold nod as I stepped into my room.

Now, it had been years, but I was pretty sure nothing had moved. But, that would be impossible; it was the only spotless place in the whole building. A frozen picture, just like postcards hung on the walls. Snapshots of the past Sea Mist was captured by, strung next to paintings. Little canvas of mom, dad, nana… and me. We never really had money for supplies, or even room in that tight one bedroom we shared, but that never stopped Amani. He captured reality with simplicity; just charcoal, and one or two colors. Noy captured strength in mom’s eyes; sharp yet warm. The colored history in dad’s braids— each twist for an ancestor. Then, there was me. Amani painted me with my coat in the softest colors, warmth pleading to bleed out but every outline of that was crossed, the colors tinted colder and colder until they disappeared into the canvas itself. I was the only one not looking at the observer. Instead, I was turned away, gazing into some unknown horizon, chasing an invisible sunset.

Of course, nana had a painting, too, but it was still on the makeshift easel. The lining raced into oblivion, non-connecting, but you could still make out half of her face. Unintentionally, it told you who she was. A seer just like Misty, able to gaze into the unknown and still hold onto herself, no matter the size. Nana was truly what all nurakhus strived to be… Especially dad.

I glanced down next to the easel. My guitar. Amani was a master of showing what he meant; I was better at expressing the feeling, as ironic as that is. The thought did make me wonder: Could I still do it?

“You can play an instrument?” Sea Mist asked as I picked up my heart and brought it over to the bed. There was no malice in her surprise, just… I guess the word would be bafflement. I couldn’t blame the idea; I definitely didn’t look the type.

I set the guitar on the bed and nodded. “Not a lot to do when you’re cooped up in a big tube. I think you know what I mean.”

She snickered and nodded. “Yeah. I think I’d know a thing or two about that. So, does that mean— nevermind, you know why you want to play, and that’s enough for me.”

That comment warmed my soul.

I unstrapped my plate carrier and dropped it into the ground with a deep, satisfying thud. It’s pretty hard to play guitar with the vest; I’ve only tried it once and sadly my hooves just aren’t long enough to reach some of the frets.

Free from my weight on my chest, I plopped into the bed and pulled the guitar into my chest. I slid a hoof up the neck, strings rattling happily until I reached the end. With a single strummed, the chord filled the air. Out of tune of course. I was the only musician in the family. One quick tune and it was beautiful. So beautiful that I didn’t need to think about what I wanted to play.

I took a deep breath. Close my eyes. Then matched my heart beat with the melody of the city. The song that’s played everywhere so much that you’d think it was an anomaly. I slowly plucked the notes. It was somber, yet so powerful. That splash of color heard earlier in the streets was the dream given form; one that made my hair stand on end. A hope that refreshes the soul with every note… or at least, that's what we believe. Just a simple melody I hummed with: the sound of the Infinite.

I let the last note ring out before opening my eyes. Sea Mist’s eyes were wide. Not at my playing but at the zebra mare standing in the doorway. Soft amber eyes that brought tears from both of us. I put the guitar to the side.

“Hey, nana.” It was impossible holding myself together.

She wiped her tears away with her worn magenta scarf and smiled. “My starlight.”

I walked over and embraced her. Tears exploded out as I fell apart in her hooves. I told her everything.

======= ☢ =======

“So you’re from a stable… hmmm,” Nana turned to me and snickered. “She’s too skinny.”

“Nana!”

“What? It’s true, true.”

Sea Mist and her both giggled at that. Great to know that they’re basically the same person. Spirits kill me.

She opened the door to her room. It was simple and forward, but then again, everything about her was. The area only had a mattress on a rug; That was it.

She quickly beckoned us in. “Come on, come on. Let’s have tea, and we can talk more about the dreams you’ve been having.”

We sat on her rug as Nana plopped off her saddlebags and pulled out a thermos with a few small cups. Gifting each one of us tea from the container, she sat down herself to breathe in the drink before smiling. “Tell me what's on your mind.”

“Well,” I took a small sip and Sea Mist did the same. It was those little moments that reminded me just how strong traditional zebra tea was. The second the liquid tickled Misty’s tongue, she spat it out and grimaced as I enjoyed mine. “It's all gunfire drowning out the world. A world where I’m dragged into an endless swamp’s mud until I’m choking for air. At least, that’s the most common one.”

“There’s others?”

I nodded. “Mostly just twisted memories with… strange feelings.”

Nana took a sip of her tea, gesturing to me to continue.

“Folks’ eye color changes. Every time, they turn to pale jade before addressing me directly.” I finished.

That made Nana pause. She slowly put down her cup to furrow her brow at me. “Green?”

I nodded.

“That’s very specific.”

“So…?”

“Don’t be impatient; You’ve basically asked me to read the stars during the day. So cut your Nana a little bit of slack, okay, my starlight?”

“Sorry. I just… it’s been a hell of— what? Two weeks, give or take.”

“Nuh uh,” She chuckled. “You pretend all of this is a recent occurrence… And before you give me something snappy, just know that you know what I’m talking about.”

Sea Mist tried to hide in her collar as the tone switched. She looked to me for something; whether empathy for me, or herself, was hard to say.

Nana finished her tea and flipped the cup upside down. “I never wanted you to become a nurakhu. It is not a role I wish for anyone to bear. A curse; that’s all it is. To hear the cries of others, and know you are just as powerless to change fate as they are.”

“But what about noy? He changed things.”

“Amani…” Something in her eyes died as she bowed her head away from me. “He— wait. Serenity, who did you see? Which spirit greeted you first?”

I bite my tongue before immediately answering. Nana was praying, I could tell by just her eyes. I could only hope I wouldn’t make her cry as the words left my lips. “Retribution.”

“No…” She let out a small gasp before practically jumping into her next question. “Did you take his deal?”

I shook my head.

Nana exhaled in relief. “Good, good. A deal with kismet is death. Not physical, per se, but death of your willpower. You will become nothing but a puppet on a stage.”

“Then what do I do? I came here chasing a dream!”

Sea Mist frowned. “Hey! Don’t yell at your—“

“It’s fine,” Nana cut her off. “It’s good even. It shows he cares; why else would he be angry?”

“What?! I don’t need riddles…” I buried my face into my hooves.

A hoof wrapped around me, then a body embraced me tightly. That warmth didn’t truly help me; It just fed more and more into the ever growing tornado in my chest.

“What did you hope I would say? Hope I would do?”

Nana’s words cut through the winds in my gut.

“What?” Words failed to express my confusion.

She smiled as I looked up at her. “What were you expecting?”

“I—“ I don’t know how, but she broke me. For once, my thoughts were quiet. It had to be some ancient magic. A trick. I couldn’t do it myself. How could a simple question be so strong? “I guess I was looking for peace.”

“Starlight… you can’t wake up, if you never fall asleep. You can’t live, if all you do is run away from your problems.”

“But I don’t. I face them head on.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t. You fight because you're afraid to cry. It’s why you came here, isn’t it? You want a solution to not feel bad. Everyone shares that same desire, but that’s just not how life works. All you can do is send your spark out into the darkness of reality and hope for something better; Moments you share with the ones closest to you. You can’t lie about your emotions. Shortcuts and deals, they’re nothing but half-measures.”

I looked over to Misty who wrapped herself around my side. Without the walls, her warmth finally touched me. Everything tingled. My body felt like… mine. Not a foreign suit of flesh. Just me.

… was this love? The touching embrace of what is destined to decay? That no matter how scared or disfigured I got, ponies like Sea Mist would stay? Would Amani have stayed if I was this? My head hurt as the synapses burned. I just— I couldn’t understand…

A pair of hooves began running through my hair before beginning to braid it. “The mind is a place itself that can make a hell of heaven, or a heaven of hell.”

I didn’t even notice Nana move, I am losing it.

“My little starlight,” She continued. “You have all the time in the world to think about this, but your parents will be home soon, so you better wash yourself. That’s all you need to do right now, okay?”

I nodded.

“Good. I’ll keep your friend company,” Nana quickly pulled me close before I could get up. “And remember: you have this one life. Choose well.”

======= ☢ =======

I really tried to scrub the bags out from under my eyes, but it didn’t matter. They weren’t coming out. Tatay was gonna be pissed.

Pissed…

I looked into the tiny room's makeshift mirror, a large shard from a bigger one that had been tied to the wall above the bucket of water that made up the sink. All it gave me was a sad, tired pony. No happiness for home, close to loved ones, just existence as a reflection of scars on a cheek.

Spirits, what a bitch.

They didn’t deserve it. Five years just to see the ‘old Serenity’. The guilt-ridden, self-destructive punching bag… Sea Mist doesn’t want it. Hoarfrost and Dusk dread it. And I don’t want to disappoint, because I hate that guy looking back at me.

You have this one life. Choose well.

The words filled my head, subduing all the negativity that had been swarming as I smiled at the reflection I saw now: a pony, a little beaten up, but home. Maybe there was even a bit of starlight in his eyes.

I tried one more time to wash the bags out but alas, I guess would just stay with me. But that’s okay; I’ll work on it.

I blew out the candle in the bathroom before heading to the kitchen. The sounds of laughter were present even from the other side of the home. I know it’s small, but still. My family wasn’t known for being too loud… except maybe my tatay: my father.

He’s what I imagined the sun to feel like. Books described it as warm, welcoming, gentle yet powerful. How was that not tatay? Everyone on the couch was laughing, and of course, he was the cause. A doctor, giving the best medicine. Sometimes the puns just write themselves.

Then there was my mother. Some would describe her as simple, or down to earth… something more kind than how I would. Nanay was dirty. Always dirty. Even if she washed herself down with a hose, she’d still be covered in oil or grease somewhere on her face or coat. She did try to tie her hair up high to protect it from the stains that covered her body, but I don’t need to tell you that was a fruitless plan. One of the few ideas that were ever wrong from nanay.

Sea Mist was the first to notice me, smiling and waving enough for everyone else to look over to me. To lock their growing misty eyes with mine. Tatay fumbled out of seat, almost smashing his face into the floor, just to race over to embrace me. He didn’t hide anything; instead, he let all the emotions flow out. Nanay was more calm as she walked over, still tearing up more and more as she got closer.

It’s moments like those that I always come back to. The ones that fill me with so much warmth that I’m melting into anxiety. How long until this is… gone? I wish my brain didn’t think like that, but that’s just a dream, and those thoughts… as nana would say, ‘they’re just thoughts. What’s wrong with that?’

I pulled them both in as my thoughts tried to grow more dreadful, but damn… for a moment, I didn’t give a shit about ‘em. Maybe it wasn’t a solution that drove them away…

But it was a start.

======= ☢ =======

I told them everything over some fish stew. About the wasteland just outside the storm, Blue’s story, the hello from their friend from Dry Station, Hoarfrost, and even my dreams– that was the part tatay was most interested in, but he was also a nurakhu, so could you blame him? I only didn’t tell them about Silver Tongue. They didn’t need to worry because, knowing nanay, she’d do something brash, yet so stupid, and intelligent.

Tatay brought his bowl up to lips to finish before sighing, “So, it’s not much better out there?”

I nodded.

“Of course everything needs to be fixed.” Nanay added.

“I wouldn’t say fixed,” I took a beat to make sure both of them were listening. “The last person to say that built a slave empire to try and fix the world. It’s a complex issue over there.”

“Well, deconstruct it.”

“Where do you even start with simplifying the issues of having a slave empire…”

She frowned. “Stop being silly. You know what I meant.”

“Mom,” I bit my tongue a little as she gave me a look that screamed: try me. “Life out there is honestly not that much different from being a stalker, but at least here stalkers have a home to return to. The Wasteland is a warzone, where people could care less what happens to others, unless they can help them. Even then, all lives feel forfeit at the whims of whoever can draw faster… call it a land of cowboys, honestly. Where every town is molded into the world the ‘hero’ wants, even if it means they must die. It’s sickening that anyone out there could self-mythologize, because don’t you think the world would’ve been saved already if we had that many heroes?”

She sighed before giving a smile. “Always so keen. You get that from me, not that guy.”

I looked over for dad’s response, but he just playfully shrugged.

“That’s fair,” I gigged a little before glancing back at mom. “Nay, you really don’t think I’m crazy for seeing the world like this?”

“Why would I? What good would treating you like that do?”

I couldn’t help but bite my tongue at the thought. “I don’t know. I guess I was just expecting more resistance to it…”

“What a stubborn bastard,” Tay shook his head. “You’re home. What more could we want?”

I shook my head. “You wouldn’t like the first thought that came to mind.”

“You know what? How about you get some rest? It’ll help, trust me,” He winked. “I am a doctor.”

Nay punched him in the shoulder as she giggled along with everyone else on the couch. I knew he was right, deep down, but I needed some time to get the rest of myself to accept that.

With a little wave to Sea Mist, I slipped into my room and pulled the cloth down to cover the doorway before stripping off my gear and plopping onto the bed. I reached down to grab my journal, just feeling around my saddlebags until I found it. A few items fell out, but I found it eventually. I took a moment to reread what I last wrote before jotting down the events of the day, letting myself get lost in my words.

*thud*

I looked down to the floor. My bags fell over, and my shit had fallen out. You never really get a break. I jumped out of bed and began cleaning up, organizing every item back into my bags until one caught my eye. The gift from Doemetheus Station was still neatly wrapped in its paper. There was really no better time to open it but then. I tore away the wrapping to find a book inside…
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There was no author; just numbers where a name should’ve been. Something about it… called to me. I sat back down on my bed and opened it. Just as a note, though, I was wrong to call it a book. It was actually a play:

In the city of Carcosa, along the shore the cloud waves break. The shadows lengthen to let the past dance in light of black stars in the sky, painting a path for a stranger to walk. Their coat flapping the tatters of the King.