Underside, San Palomino

Day 9

The Lucky Clover, where do I start with it?

To say I have many, many fond memories of it would be an understatement. It’s probably my second favorite place in all of San Palomino (we’ll get to number one in time) and the place where so many things started and ended. A den that smelled of alcohol and cigar smoke, but had the heart and love of what made the Shattered Moon what it was.

The building itself was from pre-war, but it had been so well maintained the only way to know was to ask the owner. The instead had light always set low, bar directly across from the entrance, and standard booth and tables on the other side. At the far right corner was a stage, various instruments strewn about for anypony with skill to use… or anypony without skill.

Sweet Luna, if you ever see an old gray abyssian get on stage, run! No matter what he says, he can’t play the trumpet.

Gemmy, Gold, and myself entered the place to find it was currently on the quieter side. Not empty, just quiet. A sole zebra was sitting at the bar counter, the abyssian in question managing the bar. Ponies and the like elsewhere, a few numbers enjoying reprieve. The radio was on, turned to none other than S.M.R.. The acronym was so easy to decipher now that it was impossible to not figure out what it stood for.

Shattered Moon Radio, for all your anti-Equalist news. Propaganda wasn’t just an Enclave thing.

“– I recommend caution for all prospectors, travelers, and otherwise heading in the direction of Trespasser’s Will. After investigation by the Shattered Moon, the recent deaths and theft of important mining operations have been pinned on Equalist infiltrators. This marks yet another in a series of attacks of mining towns across the border of southern and northern San Palomino. More information will be revealed when Lady Hash deems it right.”

Not everything was squeaky clean here, even if it was just a thin layer of dirt Shattered Moon had covered themselves and not the mountain of mud those in the central wasteland had. The lack of true details was a clear sign that they didn’t truly have the information to back up their claims. The blamed was laid at the hooves of the Equalists without much true effort. They certainly lived up to the ideals of an anti-ministry group, but being in charge of what was practically a country had opened their eyes. A citizenry that is loyal and complacent to their leaders is a calm and controllable populace.

That was damn good of them.

The sight of propaganda, however, was not the only thing of interest. I had a name, one belonging to a pony and not a group. Lady Hash, a creature with connection to the Shattered Moon no doubt. Someone high up in their ranks, trusted by the populace. Perhaps, just perhaps, they had heard about a group of pegasi who descended from the Enclave without Dashite brands.

Perhaps, just perhaps, the stolen documents and blueprints had been given to them. Angel Hair was smart to get it out of her hooves and to somepony I wasn’t unable to take it from without repercussion. No doubt she had told the others to do the same.

“Three of us, two joining later. Sitting at the bar, if able,” Gold told the host. I had gotten so caught up in analyzing the radio broadcast, I hadn’t seen them walk up.

The host, a young unicorn stallion in a simple green and black uniform, gave a nod. Gold craned his head in our direction, motioned towards the bar with a talon, and then made his way over. Gemmy and I took our seats, the former in between the two of us and the zebra I mentioned on my left. A hot cup of coffee rested between her hooves, her eyes focused on the radio.

“This doesn’t feel like that place we saw in Trotson. The one we had the pizza at,” Gemmy said with a funny look. Her muzzle was scrunched, a hoof over it. “It smells much worse. What is that?”

“Cigarette smoke. Comes from cigarettes. Many have them, helps relax,” Gold explained joyfully. A bit too joyfully for the subject, I must add. “Griffon invention, but ponies like them. Tasty, wonderfully addictive, but not good for ponies.”

“Doubt it is good for griffons either,” I shot back, giving him a warning glare.

He rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t offering, Rhapsody.”

“You don’t deny having some on you, however.”

“Of course! I like 'em!” He took one out of his own bag, showing it off to me. “Can be yours, too. Just say word.”

“In case I wasn’t clear enough back when we re-met, no.” I leaned closer, glaring just a little more. “That shit is poison. You know it, I know it, and I’m not having poison. You shouldn’t either, Gemmy.” I looked the young mare in the eyes as I said her name. “Alcohol is fine when you get older. Cigars? They’re as bad as drugs, and without the… slight upsides.”

“Drugs got medical use–“

I snapped my attention back to Gold. “Not what I’m talking about, griff.”

He sighed like a disappointed father, but with how he didn’t act like one it proved ineffective. No matter how good he was in a fight, he was a terrible influence. It made me significantly more worried about Luck Heart and her own future. If this was what she had for a father figure, then it only made sense that Moondancer used her more akin to a puppet than anything.

Morally, it was wrong. Sensibly, it was right.

“Well, here are some new faces that I have never seen before,” the abyssian behind the bar said, leaning over and looking between each of us with a merchant-like smile. “First time in Underside no doubt?”

“Yes. Not first time in San Palomino… for self,” Gold said, meeting the bipedal creature with a smirk. “Am Gold. This Shining Gemini, that Singing Rhapsody.”

“I’m Basalt, the proprietor of this wonderful establishment,” the cat replied, spreading his arms wide as he happily took in his entire pub. “Welcome to the Lucky Clover! All our welcome… as long as you behave.”

This was a hint of playful seductiveness in those last few words. Nothing harmful, likely just an essence of how exuberant he seemed to speak. He had all the essence of a performer, which made his choice in profession weird. Though, given my own talent, I wasn’t in a position to speak. Nothing about him screamed terrifying.

Yet, just by manner of him being the first abyssian I had ever seen, I felt a bit unsure. I knew bipedal intelligent species existed, but seeing one in front of me was different. Having Gold tower above me was manageable, but this cat? That young, beaten filly inside of me wished desperately to hide.

It took a lot of will to remind myself that this wasn’t my dad. He couldn’t hurt me here. This feline had no reason to do the same.

“If… you don’t mind me asking,” I said, swallowing my fear down. I hoped that, through conversation, that innate reaction would be utterly dismantled, “what is an abyssian doing here? I don’t think a broken and battered country would hold much interest.”

He chuckled at me. “Leave it to the pegasus to ask the million cap question. Surprise you even know what I am.”

“Barely. They didn’t teach much about your people in history,” I explained to him. “Your home wasn’t annexed like Mount Aris and the lower part of the continent, barely anything on politics. We know you exist, but that is it.”

“Not surprised, especially considering how things were back then,” Basalt replied. He rested his beige fur-covered arms on the counter. “If you weren’t a quadruped with a horn, wings, or lacking stripes, then good luck. Equestria’s policies of friendship and harmony was only for ponies.”

“But… that doesn’t make sense,” Gemmy said, furrowing her brow adorably. Anypony close enough could see the gears turning in her head as she thought. “Friendship and harmony isn’t just a pony thing… at least I don’t think it is.” She turned to the griffon at her right. “I mean, Mister Gold is weird but really nice. I consider him a friend, and he isn’t a pony.”

Every feature on the old griffon’s face lit up like a hearthswarming tree. This was a new level of happiness that I had never seen from him. It seems Gemmy’s innocence and simple world view had just as good of an impact on him as it did me.

“So if I can be friends with a griffon, then Equestria is wrong!” She exclaimed, her face adorning a look that made it clear her words were some sudden great realization to her. Then, quick as a blink, she pouted. “Wow, Equestria is dumb!”

Basalt laughed happily at that, paws going to his belly as he did. I noted my own amusement with a snort and smirk, the sight of the abyssian laughing thoroughly dispelling the fears within me. Gemmy looked at the cat, confused at the more expressive way he had reacted. For just a moment, her ears folded back.

“Did I say something dumb?” she asked.

“Dumb? No, no! Little lady your observation is anything but dumb,” Basalt said, managing to get his laughter under enough control to focus. He leaned backwards, paws making motions I didn’t understand in the air. “Then again we are but outside observers, correct? Those who only know about the events thereafter, unable to decipher in full detail what transpired. I’m certain, to those of the time, the actions had some manner of sense.” His paws finally motioned back to me. “Now, we got slightly off track I do believe. Miss Rhapsody here inquired about why I am here, correct?”

“Yes, though given your words I can form the frame of a picture,” I answer. “Your family has been here since those times, haven't they? When being a pony was seen as the only right thing to be and anything otherwise was treated as a threat or scary.” I side eyed Gold, “even if the terror was an ally.”

Basalt’s stance seemed to straighten, smile growing as he heard the theory I had placed before him. Instead of declaring me right or wrong, he closed his eyes and chuckled to himself. When he opened them, he briefly eyed Gold before reaching under the countertop.

“As you mentioned, Abyssia had no wish to take back to the squabble the rest of the world took part in. It had nothing Equestria wanted, had a nearly non-existent pony population, and there were far more useful lands to claim nearby,” Basalt explains as he worked on some kind of cocktail. Every time an action led to the clinking of glass I winced. That simple sound seemed worse than any injury I had ever suffered. “Mount Aris was one of those. Equestria wanted their navy, the hippogriffs refused, so Equestria forcibly took it over. Attempts to flee were halted by… warnings.”

Gemmy stared at the abyssian, unsure of if she truly wanted to ask the question rattling around in her brain. Her curiosity got the better of her. “What was the warning?”

“Nothing spoken, but when the big scary neighbor to your north starts using your water as “megaspell testing grounds” you realize you only have two options.”

I closed my eyes, absorbing the information just put before me. It didn’t completely match with my own history classes but that makes sense; despite the Enclave’s hatred for grounders, our history books are made with Equestria’s view in mind. Mount Aris was annexed late into the war, the reason given by Luna and the ministries being that the Zebrican Empire’s newly unveiled megaspells had attempted to sink some great project underneath the sea. They joined Equestria for protection, thus making their navy just another part of the Equestrian navy.

Obviously, that was now revealed to be a lie.

Basalt’s family may have been in Equestria since before the war ended, but they had no reason to continue the lie. Nopony did, unless they were stable ponies brought up on the righteousness of the ministries and Princess Celestia, and the idea that zebras were the enemy. More than that, we were in an area protected by the Shattered Moon, and they certainly did not have reason to continue the lies of the ministries. Everything said was true, and it made Luna’s rule look even worse than it already did.

“So by all means Abyssia is out there, fine and clean of magical radiation,” I said.

Basalt looked off longingly, no doubt picturing the homeland that he had never seen. “I sure hope so.” He quickly shook his head and returned his attention to us. He placed the cocktail he had made down at the zebra, who gave him a nod as a sign of thanks. “Now, while I am more than happy to continue this discussion, I got an establishment to run and three new faces before me waiting for something to quench their thirst. What shall I get for you three today?”

Three drinks for three individuals, all of which being rather different. Gold got himself a simple beer, supposedly of foreign origins but I didn’t pay attention to exactly where. Gemmy got herself ginger ale, which she was certain was closer to a beer than it truly was. As for myself? Sunrise Sarsaparilla. It was quickly becoming a favorite of mine.

We shared a light back and forth as we drank, laughing here and there at something or other. Gold and I told Gemmy about the world she didn’t know, the one she had witnessed for only a few days now. She was intrigued, excited, nervous, but under it something was building up. Small interests, new wonders she had never known, and as a whole who she was.

The mare was finding her identity. Among it all, and no doubt partially due to being around me, she was finding an interest in firearms. She asked me about the novasurge rifle, how much harder it was to maintain then her own 9mm pistol, that stuff. I did my best to keep the technical stuff to a minimum, at least for now. Didn’t want to overload her brain with things she barely understood.

“Do you think I can get one?” She asked in time. “A novasurge rifle, I mean.”

I tilted my head. “You want one?”

“I think so. I mean, they’re standard issue for the Enclave so they must be good,” she explained. “That and, well, they sound cool.”

“They sound… cool?”

“Yeah. The day we met, I was terrified. Really, really terrified. Willow was scary, as was Bone Breaker and you and Sharpshot and just,” she shrunk, “I thought I was going to die. Blood and that stuff doesn’t really phase me but I really don’t want to die. The only gun or weapon that didn’t have a scary sound to it was your rifle. It sounded less brutal, strangely pleasant.”

That caught my interest. I never really thought of a weapon as sounding pleasant, partially because that didn’t seem possible. Firearms wound, kill. They take a creature out of the universe, making a gap that can not be filled by anything. I’m a soldier, I know that. I lived my entire life in the Enclave knowing that I killed ponies. Despicable, lowly insults many of them were, killing and murdering and assaulting, but they were ponies.

I was trained to follow orders, kill my targets, and get my pegasi home alive. That is a soldier, to a soldier. I don’t regret many of the grounders I’ve killed… but that is because I don’t know them.

…

Though, I guess that is a lie. I knew one, before all this shit happened. Not as a friend, or an acquaintance, but as an enemy. Most of the specifics are locked away deep in my brain, I know that. It helps me not think about it, and as long as I was in the Enclave it was justified.

To summarize briefly, it was my first two kills. She was a piece of shit raider, but she had a son. She begged for her son's life and, well, the others didn’t care. They killed him, I killed her. Perhaps there is a deeper question on if she really was the piece of shit I labeled her as, but I wasn’t interested in an answer. It helps to think of her as a bad guy, and me the good guy.

Funny how somepony you don’t know can affect you so greatly, if you don’t lock it up.

“I don’t exactly see how it is pleasant,” I said, eyes drifting to the fluorescent lights above us, “but if you want one, we can arrange that. After all, I’m sure my targets will have ones on them.”

Gemmy's expression turned sour, shifting uncomfortably. “So my best hope is… taking one from the dead.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” I said, answering her not-question. “Sorry Gemmy, but with me branded and you a unicorn we can’t just walk up to pegasi and ask for one,” I took a sip of a nearly empty Sunrise Sarsaparilla, finishing it off. “Tartarus, can’t do it even without the brand. Enclave needs all the shit it can get, and I was lucky to even bring mine with me.”

Her expression fell, staring into her ginger ale sadly. I was going to apologize for ruining an idea of hers, but then she smiled. Not the innocent, foal-like smile I was used to from her. It was something darker, with a twisted light becoming visible before my eyes. It wasn’t anywhere close to the psychopathic menace that graced the feature of raiders and otherwise, but it was there.

“I… I think I’m fine with taking theirs,” she said, cheerily. She seemed to realize, to some extent, that her thoughts were bad, causing her expression to change back to fear. “I-I mean, it doesn’t matter what they got, because they are dead. Might as well take it, right?”

Ladies and gentlecolts, a perfect example of the nurture thing Sharpshot was preaching days earlier. Gemini, slave as she was, had been surrounded by ponies so mentally unstable they saw the most horrid of acts as okay. She wasn’t close to being like them, of course, but there was a hint of their influence in there. The only reason it was buried so deep was no doubt due to those early years when her mom was still around.

For her to come at as she did, her mom had to be a damn good pony. Thank Celestia for what she had done for her foal in life.

“Careful little lady,” Basalt said, giving both Gemmy and I a jump as he appeared from behind. He had disappeared at some point during the conversation to deliver somecreature their drink. “Those are dangerous thoughts. Slip too far and you are no better than the easterners.”

Gemini followed the abyssian as he moved back behind the bar, the emotionless stare telling me she didn’t understand. Gold and I shared a look as she did, subtle motions and eye movements done in hope he understood that I agreed with the cat. I’m pretty damn sure he didn’t get it, so I switched to a verbal response.

“I’d listen to Basalt on this one, Gemini.” My voice instantly grabbed her attention. “Looting, graverobbing, and shit like that? Screw up your sense of right and wrong.” I pushed the empty soda bottle closer to the other side of the bar’s countertop, signaling to Basalt I wanted another. “I shouldn’t have put those thoughts in your head. Always respect the dead, Gemmy.”

“Even if pony not good,” Gold added on, putting a claw in the air. “If treat bad pony like monster, they get power. Even true for dead bad pony. Never give them pleasure of hate.”

“I… uh… I see,” Gemmy said, still with that same stoic stare. There was something brew behind it though, which I hoped was a faint understanding. She shifted in her seat and took a gulp of her drink. “S-so, the ponies that hurt me and my mom for all those years…”

I raised a hoof towards her muzzle, never touching it but pointing with purpose. “You don’t have to like them, but as Gold said you must remember they are ponies. They are like you, and like me. If we aren’t careful, and the world deals us the wrong hoof,” I scowled, “we can end up just like them.”

“I don’t want to be like them.”

“Then treat both the living and dead with respect, even if they are your enemies.” Basalt hoofed over another Sunrise Sarsaparilla to me, which I instantly popped open and took a long gulp of. I plopped it down on the counter with more force then expected not too much later, letting out a sigh. “That is… not something we did well at.”

“We? Enclave you mean?” Gold asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. We treated you all like shit.”

“Not surprising. Leadership shapes minds. Look who they have on top… and did, in one case.”

“Your jab at my broken beliefs of racial superiority hurt.”

“Good, it should. Means you want to change.”

The door to the Lucky Clover opened. I leaned back, looking to see if it was Gideon and Gigi. They two griffons were indeed there, waving at us, but it was the third that caught my real attention. He was old, dark blue feathers and crimson red fur covering his body. He had those similar signs of mercenary life on him, similar to Gold, his left in particular dealing with some heavy burns.

A sigh brought my attention to my griffon companion, the ex-talon looking at this new one with a sense of great longing. It was that same look many old ponies had when looking back on their life, memories of days when their body was fitter and healthier reaching the forefront. I looked back to the new griffon, and then to Gold once again. I studied his expression a little bit more, and my eyes went wide.

Ironsight’s failed courting of Harbinger had given me a look into what it was like to have love denied to a pony. Gold carried that same somberness in his reflective expression, instead of the joyful one I had seen in many an old Enclave veteran. An expression that told of opportunities long past, and regrets still held. A lovestruck rooster, looking at the griffon that had turned him down.

Gold knew who this was, I knew who this was. He had told me of them, the night Gemmy’s undisciplined trigger discipline had put lead in my shoulder. This was the griffon who he had helped find love, after his own attempts had failed.

“Falke,” Gold whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear over the combined sound of radio music and the others in the pub.

“You going to be okay, Gold?” I asked.

Saying his name seemed to awake him from his reminiscences, eyes scouring the pub before landing on me. Regret and longing still laid inside. “I–“

“Uncle Goldlewis!”

His attempts to speak to me were undone as Gideon and Gigi rushed to hug him as if they hadn’t seen just earlier that day. In the process, Gideon nearly knocked Gemmy off her barstool, the unicorn barely managing to get her balance back. Gold was initially shocked at the hug, but quickly returned it. That seemed to wipe the sadness out of him, the tiniest sign of a smirk on his face.

“Hey, hey, careful now,” Basalt said. “This wood is sturdy but it's also old. I don’t need to replace it right now.”

Gideon and Gigi pulled away, the latter’s eyes lighting up with barely controlled excitement. “You didn’t tell us you knew grandpa.”

“I… didn’t know it was same griffon,” Gold lied. It was such an obvious lie that not even the smile he gave with those words could save him.

“Come on Gold, don’t do your niece and nephew dirty like that,” Falke replied as he came up behind his grandchildren. Gideon and Gigi moved out of the way, watching as Falke took Gold into a one arm hug. “It’s been years man. Good to know you are still kicking, especially after that disappearing act you pulled after meeting Red Eye..”

“I… figured it was best. Red Eye influential, I said no to him.” Gold reached a talon around Falke, a clear shake in it. It ended up calculating into how light his own hug was compared to his old crush. “Dangerous to stay there. Left, went other places. Met new griffons and ponies.”

“Well I’m damn happy to see you alive, old friend,” Falke replied, pulling away from the hug so he could look Gold in the eyes. They didn’t stay there for long as he caught the other griffon’s artificial talon. “Fucking hells, must have been some adventures too. What happened to get you this? Some business in Hoofington.”

“Ha! Likely to most, but incorrect,” Gold said. “Lost in the south, at Trotson. Long story.”

“Trotson still exists?!”

“Yes. You didn’t know?”

“Of course not. I didn’t think any existed in that bowl of sand.” Falkes dismissively pointed a talon to what he believed was south – which was actually closer to east, according to my E.F.S. – treating the city more like a pest than anything. Another knock against whatever Moondancer and Lucky Heart claimed to be for. “Just glad you're alright. I’ve missed you.”

“Y-yeah, s… same.”

Gold looked away. He gave me a look, one that spoke discomfort, likely a wish for some form of privacy. I had a decent idea of what he was asking me, and it led to a knowing smile finding its way onto my face. I looked off to the stage, smiling at what I saw on it.

Among the group of instruments that made it up was a bass, old but incredibly well maintained. Strong, well made strings and a newer set of tuning pegs at the very top of its neck, though whether they were ornamental I currently didn’t know. I had done my best to ignore it since I had entered, not wanting to get my hopes up that it might be available to play. Now though? Now I had a chance to ask.

“Basalt two questions.”

“Of course Miss Rhapsody. How may I satisfy your curiosity.”

“Missus Rhapsody, actually.” I correct, not even turning to face the abyssian. I was too busy drinking in every little detail of the bass on stage. “First off, mind if Gemini and I change seats?”

Their was dawning realization on the abyssian’s face. “Go right ahead! And the second?”

“Can anypony use the instruments on stage?”

“Yes, as long as they don’t trash them.”

“Alright, thanks for letting me know.” I turned to Gemmy, Gideon, and Gigi. “Come on, let's give old friends some space.”

“W-wai–“

If the griffon had any object, it was too late to stop us. I had already gotten up, as had Gemmy, with the two younger griffons leading us towards a booth just far enough away where we wouldn’t be able to hear Gold and Falkes’ inevitable conversation. I momentarily looked back to the former, giving him a wink and a smirk. The old rooster seemed ready to strangle me, but was immediately distracted by Falkes taking the seat Gemmy had been using beforehoof.

Two young griffons and a unicorn sat down at the aforementioned booth. I stayed standing, attention back on the bass. It had been so long since I played, and I felt the urge to play growing more and more.

“Rara?” Gemmy called to me, temporarily removing my attention from my preferred instrument. “Should we really have just left him alone?”

“Yeah. He may not like it, but he needs it,” I responded. I looked at Falkes' grandchildren as I sat down next to Gemmy. “You two noticed it, right? The way he seemed kind of… dodgy.”

I briefly peered around the booth back to the bar. Falkes was speaking with Basalt, Gold nervously fidgeting right next to him.

“Not really, but I guess I wasn’t paying attention to it,” Gideon said, following my gaze and looking behind himself. “Looking now? Yeah. He does seem rather nervous.”

“Any idea what it is all about?”

“Nope. Grandpa has had nothing but good things to say about Uncle Goldlewis in the past,” Gigi explained, leaning against the cushioned back of the booth. “Granted I didn’t know they knew each other. I always thought grandpa was speaking of them as a sort of role model.”

“Which makes the fact they knew each other really cool,” Gideon continued on, practically jumping as he focused back on Gemmy and I. “I mean, we have Goldlewis Blackclaw for an uncle! Not just that, but Goldlewis Blackclaw is alive!”

Gemmy raised her brow. “Y-you thought he was dead?”

“Every talon and non-talon thought so,” Gideon answered, giving a nod along with his words. “A merc of his caliber doesn’t just disappear for years. Getting to learn he is alive and still working is quite the surprise.”

Gemmy’s brow slowly lowered, and her head fell not too much later. She smiled sadly, eyes starting to water up. A wing started to involuntarily open, motherly instincts wishing to wrap her in a hug. I quickly stopped myself, sliding closer to her instead. Gemmy had watched it all, and it made that smile the tiniest bit less sad.

“I… I understand that. I mean, my mom just disappeared one day herself,” Gemmy replied. “The bad ponies, the ones that… took care of me after,” her body tensed, a clear sign she knew those slavers were far worse than she was claiming it, “they said she hadn’t been around for a while. I didn’t believe them but… then she never came back. Thinking back, perhaps it was for the best.”

“For the… best?” I repeated. She nodded.

“Mom didn’t feel or look much like herself back then. It's hard to explain but she was looking a lot angrier all the time. She would shout and scream at those bad ponies, and I remember her voice sounding different near the end.” That dark glint returned, and the smile shifted tones. “Those were the only times they really paid attention to her. They were always shivering. I think they were afraid of her.”

“Sounds like these caretakers weren’t great creatures,” Gigi said, seeming to not notice the glint like I had. Gideon too, given how relaxed he was. “Honestly, I thought the pegasus here was your mom.”

My eyes went wide. “Me?”

Gigi nodded. “You give off mom vibes.”

“Well no, I’m not her… biological mother,” I replied, rubbing the back of my head. “I saved her from some slavers about a week ago. No doubt the same ones who killed her mother.”

“Damn. Good on you for that,” Gideon said, crossing his forelegs. I puffed my chest out at the compliment as he continued on. “Still, depending on how you look at it, at least it was animals or other monsters that killed her. I imagine it was a lot quicker and less painful.”

Gigi looked at her brother, a tinge of anger gracing her expression as she punched his shoulder. “Gideon!

“Ow.”

“The hell kind of reassurance is that?”

“The only kind I can give, Gigi. The kind…,” his words got caught in his throat. He was forced to swallow in order to sleep, his own words coming out scratching and forced, “the kind we didn’t have.”

“The kind we… didn’t…,” Gigi didn’t finish, her features falling. Angry rose with sadness, another punch hitting her brother’s foreleg, but with no force behind it. “Your a fucking idiot, Gideon.”

Despite her best effort, sadness won as the forefront emotion on her face. Her insult was hollow, voice dejected, eyes cast down to the pub floor. The only sign of anger, outside of her words, was the way she curled her talons. While none of it was directed at me, I felt my stomach turn sick at what it all meant.

“My condolences for your losses,” I said quietly. “You are far too young to have watched your parents die.”

“Th-thanks,” the griffon siblings replied simultaneously.

Gideon followed up on his own. “It puts a lot in perspective. It makes you realize how little you matter, you know? One moment they are alive and the next they are just… just gone.”

“And it hurts even more, knowing we weren’t there,” Gigi continued on, resting her beak on the table. “We were too young to help them on contracts. Grandpa was looking after us. The last thing we ever said to them was goodbye.” she forced a laugh. “We didn’t even have bodies.”

Morbid curiosity got the better of me, and against my better judgment, I spoke. “Grenade? Landmine?”

Gideon shrugged. “Don’t know. Grandpa said it was best we didn’t.”

In that moment, two pairs of ethereal forelegs wrapped around the two griffons. My eyes went wide, Gemmy gasped. Two new ghosts, griffons just a few years older than Gideon and Gigi, held the siblings close. Both of them started to relax, though not without tears in their eyes.

Both Gemmy and I looked at each other, and it was at that moment I knew I had to ask.

“You can see them, can’t you?”

“Y-yeah.” She gave a nod. “Is that… am I doing something bad?”

“We can discuss this later, but let's just say it's different,” I told her, before turning back to the griffon siblings. I gave them my best sympathetic smile, something easy with the sight of the ghost griffons hugging them. “I’m sure your mom and dad are watching out for you.”

Gigi’s head tilted up ever so slightly. “You're certain?”

“Positive.” My eyes trailed to the ghost holding her. A griffoness, their identity clear as the skies of San Palomino. “Good parents never leave. They are always with you, even in death.”

The griffonness, Gigi and Gideon’s mom, smiled at me. Their father followed suit right after, clutching his son tighter. Gigi, thinking I was talking in a more metaphorical sense, brought a talon to her heart. She snorted, shook her head, and grinned at me.

“That is probably the most pony thing I have ever heard.”

I blinked, and then tilted my head. “The most… pony thing?”

“Yeah, you know, a phrase that sounds perfectly fit for you ponies.” Gigi motioned to Gemini and myself. She shook her head again, faking laughter as she leaned back once more. Her eyes gazed upward, looking through her mother’s ghastly figure to the ceiling. “You ponies are always the most optimistic ones out here. Just who you are, and why so many of you try to play hero out here. Not that it ever works.”

“So we’re idiots.”

“The best kind of idiot. The kind that looks on the bright side, even in the darkest moments.”

I dared to be a bit more smug. “You must be talking about another group of colorful ponies. You're talking to a former member of the Enclave high council. I wouldn’t call us optimists.”

Her beak hung open. “No shit!”

“Telling the truth.” I leaned back, crossing my forelegs. “I was a Lieutenant Colonel – in other words near the top of the food chain – and most importantly an officer. Need to be an officer to run for a spot on the council.”

The sadness in Gigi’s body had completely disappeared, staring at me in surprise. I rolled my eyes and then leaned to my left, looking back towards Gold and Falkes once more. The two were chatting, the former seeming to be the slightest bit less tense then he had been previously. Didn’t stop him from leering at me for a couple seconds as soon as he noticed.

“Well, optimist or not, councilor or not, thanks for the pick-me up. Not sure how much I believe that “they are always with you” crap, but… yeah,” Gigi said. One talon reached for her still downcast brother, shaking him lightly and bringing his attention to her. “Come on Gideon, time to stop moping.”

Her brother looked away in shame. “R-right, sorr–“

“No need to apologize.” Gigi waggled a talon, shaking her head in amusement at her brother's actions. “Just try to keep a better handle on what to say, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” Gideon brought one of his talons behind his neck, scratching his feathers nervously. The look really doesn’t suit their species. “Still, I brought the mood down so… sorry.”

“N-no! No need to apologize,” Gemmy replied with some sheepish waves of her hooves. “The bad mood was a… a team effort. All of our faults.”

“I think we can all live with that,” I said, giving Gemmy a wink. Not sure if that was the correct time for one, but the goofy look the unicorn gained showed it wasn’t wrong.

It was at that moment that I obtained it, the one thing I was using as an excuse to keep me off the stage: something to play. I don’t mean an instrument, obviously, I had that covered. I mean a song, a collection of notes that was more than just a jumbled mess of noise. Notes placed with purpose, telling a story, bringing a message.

I couldn’t hold myself back. The stage was right there, the bass was begging for me to pluck its strings. It hadn’t been touched in so long. It needed this, and it was telling me that I did too.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I told the three creatures around me. I shuffled out of the booth, eyes landing on the musical instrument calling out to me from the corner stage. “I have something I need to do.”

“You okay Rara?” Gemmy asked, a sudden rush of concern over taking her. She had moved to follow me, hooves on the booth seat where my flank had been moments prior.

“Completely fine,” I assured her. “You wanted to hear me play the bass, right?” She blinked slowly, and then nodded. “Then wait right there.”

Without another word, I sped-trotted up to the stage. My eyes never left the beautiful piece of hickory that rested at the wall, tall and proud. I wrapped my hooves around the bass’ neck, looking at it as if it was my husband. I’m certain I seemed weird to everyone in the pub, but right then I didn’t care.

A pony can stray from the path their cutie mark wishes for them, but they can’t deny who they are. Some pieces of our identities, no matter what, are unchangeable. I understood that more than most; a brand couldn’t fully destroy a cutie mark. Music was still in my blood.

“It has been so long for me too,” I whispered to the bass. “You want to show them we can shine, right? Then let us shine together.”

Clutching the bass like a walking stick, we made our way to the front of the stage. A few eyes had turned to me, Gemmy’s specifically having never left my form. I tested the tuning pegs to see if they were real, and found they were not. I then tested each of the four strings to get an idea for how it was tuned.

Remarkably, it was only slightly out of tune. Just enough that the untrained ear would never noticed.

“I’ll ask Basalt to get you tuned up, don’t worry,” I told it. “Now, let's show these grounders what we got.”

Just like that, I started to play.

The notes came to my head like I had played them several times before, but the truth was they were brand new to me. My hoofs effortlessly glided up and down, from one string to another. I hadn’t played in weeks and yet it felt as simple as breathing. After a time, I closed my eyes and lost myself in this newly made piece.

It was a melancholic thing, yet with that tiniest ray of hope filtering through it. A piece befitting how Gigi and Gideon felt, and no doubt how Rainy and Clear felt up above as well. The kind of piece many down here on the surface probably understood. Love ones separated, lives ended too soon, joy crushed under the ferocity of the world around them.

It was for this reason that music was so important to the world. It helped ponies, zebras, griffons, and more fight the darkness of the world. Even grounders deserved that much, I knew that now.

To my surprise a saxophone suddenly filled the air with an equally dour tone. I opened my eyes and looked to my right, an earth pony stallion next to me. Not the same one who had beaten up Sharpshot though; their coat was far less fluffy. Their purple form swayed in the beat. A short, wavy orange and cyan mane and tail swaying happily. Four flowers of unknown genus made up their cutie mark.

I won’t deny looking there for longer than I had intended. It was a nice flank.

I didn’t know who they were, and I didn’t care. They knew when to start playing, even if they didn’t know the song, and they were damn good at the saxophone. They knew the same thing I did, that a cutie mark was merely one choice of many, not a restriction. While their sudden entrance certainly wasn’t too my liking, I didn’t say anything.

He was following the song, he was hot, and he played well. Nothing to complain about in the middle of a song. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the music once more.

On and on we went, filling the room with sorrowful, soulful music. I led, and he followed. A slight change to the chord progression didn’t catch him off guard, as he easily adjusted to it. It was almost like a dance, but with sounds instead of moving bodies. Like a dance, it was something everycreature could understand. A language for all, and therefore able to soothe even the most cutthroat of hearts.

Then, after so much time, the song came to an end.

I let out a joyful sigh, and opened my eyes to a round of cheers from everyone present. Everyone, from Falke to Basalt to Gemmy and everycreature else present. The praise gave a different pride, similar yet different to the kind I received in more soldiery situations. It isn’t something I can explain.

I gave the smallest grin, and patted the bass. It did good, and I mean really really good. It sounded beautiful, and it had shined just as I said it would.

“Apologies for my sudden entrance,” the earth pony stallion to my right replied, a sly smile on his face as his deep, sultry voice hit my ears. I leaned away a little, unable to hide my blush. “I just felt I could add a little to the beauty on stage. You sounded gorgeous.”

“I-I, uh, well…”

I hid my face from him with a wing, but it did little good. The entirety of the Lucky Clover knew I found him hot, and he knew damn well what he was doing to me. He had that kind of smile on him, the one that said he knew he was sexy and was loving it.

“Come on sugar, I know you can speak,” he spoke, leaning a bit closer. “Can I at least have the name of the adorable mare who I played with?”

I spoke, but I don’t think I can rightly describe any of what I said as words, the blush on my face so great my head was a completely different shade of red. This hunk of a stallion laughed at it all, only further adding to my embarrassment. Then, suddenly, he put a hoof to his muzzle and shouted out to the crowd.

“Is that good enough?!”

My eyes went wide, and I followed his gaze to see who he had been talking to. I found Gold, leaning over the bar counter with Falkes laughing his ass off right next to him. He had a villainous smirk on his face as he looked at me.

“Pretty good. Thanks for help!” The old griffon called out, not caring at all to hide the joy in his face. “You surprise me, Rhapsody. Didn’t expect you be huge bottom.”

“Wait so this was all…,” My head swerved from Gold to the stallion neck to me. Embarrassment faded into mock discontent as he shrugged. With a groan, I looked back to the ex-talon. “Very funny Gold, very fucking fun.” My free hoof hit my temple. “Celestia fuck me.”

“If it helps at all, none of what I said was a lie, you really did sound gorgeous,” the saxophone playing stallion told me, his voice just a hint less sultry now that the gig was up. Just a hint, though, he still had that look of pure, uncontaminated masculine confidence in him. “Amaryllis Bloom, wonderful to meet you, my lady.”

Certainly a more feminine name than expected, but I didn’t really care. What a stallion! He was sculpted like a statue, musculature but not to the point of being a bodybuilder. His flank was tone, eyes as sultry as his voice, and a smile that would make any teen filly faint. A straight mare’s gift in everything… but personality.

I knew his type, and he most certainly knew what he was. I was definitely not the first mare today to fall into the traps he laid. With a slight hold on myself now, I smirked at him.

“You tell all the mares that, don’t you?” I asked plainly.

“Perhaps, but it is never any less true,” Amaryllis replied, giving a shrug. He touched his saxophone to his chest. “So many out there see the world of today as an ugly, mutated thing. I can’t change their opinions on that, but I can make sure they don’t view themselves in the same manner.” I rolled my eyes at his words. “So may I learn the name of the beautiful mare I reassured of their beauty today?”

“Dead Hoo–” I shook my head, “Singing Rhapsody… and I’m already taken, thank you very much.”

There was a slight hint of surprise, followed by an awkward laugh. He got back on his hindlegs, the top of his Saxophone held to his muzzle. “Apologies if my comments were a bit overboard then, Missus Rhapsody. Up for another song with me?”

A stallion who knew when to not push his luck. That kind of control was also very hot.

“Just as long as you can keep up,” I replied.

He smiled lustfully at me, my heart skipping a beat. “Trust me sugar, I’ve been playing since I was a foal. I’m sure I can keep tempo with you.”

…

I spoke too soon.

I’m not sure how long the two of us stayed up on stage, serenading the Lucky Clover. It was for more than just an hour, longer than I had told Gemmy I would be there. A small piece of me felt guilty for going far beyond it, but the larger part of me didn’t truly care. Nothing mattered except for Amaryllis and I, instruments singing in their own, lovely way.

We mainly improvised throughout that time, neither too familiar with the tunes the other did to do anything else. Not that it really mattered, because our duet of brass and string had enchanted the crowd below. A crowd growing quickly, ponies applaud from the end of one improvised tune to the other. All the while we played, only stopping to quickly discuss the chord progress for the next piece… and for him to compliment me endlessly.

Ever heard the joke about complimenting bottoms being a great way to create passwords? Well, let's just say he got plenty of new passwords out of me, and I enjoyed every moment of it. It didn’t help that his voice was like honey, sticking in my head like a catchy song. He got me thinking a few rather dirty, unfaithful thoughts…

Okay, a bit more than a few, but the details aren’t important.

Still, just like how Amaryllis had shown control with his teasing, I showed it by keeping those dirty thoughts inside. It was easy with us constantly going back and forth between playing and talking… even if a couple times I was so caught up in his words that I started playing late. Nothing the crowd caught… or brought up.

After many an encore, with both of us tired and thirsty, we called it done. Our last duet was met with another round of applause all across the now rather busy pub. Sharpshot and Willow had both walked in during that time, taking seats at the bar with Gold and Falkes. I shook hooves with Amaryllis as we placed down both bass and saxophone.

“That was absolutely wonderful,” Amaryllis said, a satisfied sigh passing through his lips. “Absolutely wonderful. The adoration of the crowd, big or small, never gets old.” He took one of my forelegs with one of his, kissing it. I’m not entirely certain how red my face was anymore, the giddy feeling he placed in my chest felt normal. “I have you to thank for that, Missus Rhapsody. Thank you.”

“Th-the pleasure is mine,” I replied, removing my hoof from his grasp, covering my face with it. After a few calming breaths, I lowered it and pointed to where Gemmy, Gideon, and Gigi sat. “Want to join me for a drink? I think we’ve earned it at this point.”

“Well it would be wrong to turn an offer like that down, but I must first ask,” I brought his muzzle close to my ear, a slight hint of worry hitting his voice, “your husband won’t mind, right?”

“He’s not here to have a say,” I replied, ears folding back as I stared up at the ceiling. I pointed at it. “He’s still up there.”

The tail-chasing attitude he had worn previously faded away, a look of genuine sadness taking root. “You have my condolences. No wife should ever be forced from their love like that.”

“I appreciate it, but let's not sour the mood too much.” I wrapped a wing around him, pulling him close. It was the first time I had managed to take him off guard. “Basalt! A round for the two of us! The best, hardest shit you got.”

“Of course! Only the best, for today's fantastic entertainment,” the abyssian shouted from the bar.

Willow and Gold both raised glasses up in the air, smiling at me. While I didn’t have a drink yet myself, I pumped a hoof into the air as if I did, the closest I was able to get to doing joining in their cheers. With a playful slap of Amaryllis’ flank using my wing, I practically skipped my way back to the booth I had been sitting at earlier.

“Damn, if you hadn’t already told us you were a councilor, I would have thought you played professionally,” Gigi said as I reached them, Gemmy sliding over to make sure Amaryllis and I had enough room to sit down. “That? That was fucking awesome.”

“Who taught you to play?” Gideon asked, eyes looking to the bass once again resting up on stage. “I doubt they teach music in the Enclave.”

I chuckled, a bit of cockiness daring to show on my features. “They don’t, and I taught myself.”

The news got a wide eyed look from everycreature but Gemmy, who was gulping down a beverage that she hadn’t had earlier. I narrowed my eyes at it, immediately deciphering that it wasn’t another soda. Cockiness was quickly replaced with concern as I looked at the young mare it was meant for. There was tired warmth in her eyes, an embarrassed giggle emanating from her muzzle as she leaned her side against the booth. Even among the smoke and alcohol that already permeated the air, it was impossible to not miss how some of that smell came straight from her breath.

“Y-you were up there for… for time and I was ne-ne-nerv…,” Gemmy scrunched her nose, crossing her eyes and looking upwards as her beer-addled brain did its best to figure out the long word on the tip of her tongue, “nem… nev… neir–”

“Nervous,” Gideon said, pointing a glass with an exact replica of Gemmy’s drink at her.

The unicorn immediately pointed back. “Y-yeah, that. They got me drink because of nervem… that word griffon said. It’s really tasty. Kind of sleepy though.”

Both forehooves went to my face, hiding my anger until I was able to get it under control and turned towards a better emotion. That emotion was disappointment, and as I lowered my hooves I turned it all towards Gideon and Gigi. The griffon siblings were averting eye contact, marking themselves as guilty.

Amaryllis bent his neck to look at the drunk unicorn, and then straightened his posture as he returned his attention to me. “She wasn’t supposed to have any, was sh–”

“Of course not!” I whispered to Amaryllis, a tiny amount of anxiety flowing out of my voice as I addressed him. “She’s a teen, or at least I’m pretty damn sure she is. You think she should have shit like this at her age?” I closed my eyes, reined my temper back in, and over the table to Gideon and Gigi. “How many has she had?”

“Only two, not a lot,” Gideon replied, eyes turning even further away as he spoke. I knew damn that was a lie, so I transformed my look into maternal disappointment. “Okay, maybe more like… four.”

“Four? You gave a young mare, probably not even twenty yet, four of… whatever that is?”

“A light beer, nothing too strong,” Gigi explained, beak pointed towards the seat.

“That's not the…,” my forehead met the table, “ugh, nevermind. I will be telling your grandfather this though, just so we are clear.” Both griffons stiffened up at that, but I paid no attention. Despite my disappointment in her, I did my best to smile at Gemmy. “So, it taste good? You like it?”

She giggled and nodded at me, grabbing the glass with her hooves and downing the rest of it. “It’s very-” Her eyes dilated as a hiccup went past her lips, only to immediately fade back into buzzed contempt. “Very good. Not hoppy though. Gigi said there was hops in this, but I feel sleepy, not hoppy.”

Amaryllis snorted, and I couldn’t help but follow suit. With a shake of the head, and an amused sigh, I relaxed my body. Even drunk, Gemmy’s lack of understanding in the world around her was adorable to witness. A quick decision was made to not tell her what hops was for the moment, especially since I doubt she’d remember the answer when her brain cleared.

“Glad to hear you enjoyed it. Consider this a preview of what adulthood has to offer,” I told her. She smiled, got shocked by yet another hiccup, and then smiled again.

Amaryllis leaned in once again. “Just to make sure, you two have a place to rest for the night? For after we loosen our minds with liquor, I mean?”

I opened my mouth to answer, and then immediately closed. As far as I know, none of my companions had figured out sleeping arrangements for the night. The hesitation caused a mischievous smirk to find its way onto the stallions face. I knew what he was going to ask, he most certainly had thought this up just on the spot, and I was pretty certain this wasn’t all out of the good of his heart. He was a tail chaser and he made no attempt to hide it.

“Don’t worry about that,” Sharpshot said as his wife and himself appeared from around the edge of the booth. He eyed Amaryllis with hostility, as if they were the Stalliongrad pony from the day prior. “Willow and I got two motel rooms paid for the night. Soldier mare can drink, I’ll get her ass there.”

Amaryllis narrowed his eyes. “And you are?”

“Sharpshot, an… acquaintance of hers.” The ghoul pointed to the alicorn. “This is my wife, Willow Wisp.”

As if it wasn’t clear who Sharpshot was referring to, Amaryllis bobbed his head back and forth, lips curled downward. “She’s not behind you.”

“Oh, no, I’m pretty certain she’s there. Say hello, Willow.”

With an innocent smile on her face, the alicorn waved a hoof. “Hey mister!”

Amaryllis’ mood only seemed to sour further as he was proven wrong. He stared at Willow with malice, as if she was responsible for some great disaster in his past. The alicorn took his stare as a challenge, and started to stare back. Then, without any further warning, he stood up.

“Wonderful to meet you, Missus Rhapsody, but I think it is best I leave,” he replied, all playfulness gone from his voice. “Stay safe, and watch your back.”

Just like that, he walked away, only stopping for a moment to whisper something into Sharpshot’s ears. As soon as he was done, the earth pony shoved the ghoul away from him and made off. Sharpshot instantly lit his horn in response, though whatever spell he was about to cast was immediately thwarted by a wing over the horn. His gaze softened as he looked to the blue and white alicorn said wing was attached to.

“It’s alright Sharpy. Most alicorns aren’t like me,” she said, pulling him into a hug. “I mean, you’ve seen how scared everycreature has been of me. I’m not exactly the most welcomed here.”

“That isn’t the problem, hun,” Sharpshot replied.

He didn’t explain what he meant immediately, resting rags and rotten skin against his wife’s fluff. Gideon and Gigi turned to me, looking for answers. All I was able to give them both was a shrug. Once husband and wife pulled away from their hugs, they took seats at opposite sides of the table. Willow sat where Amaryllis did, while Sharpshot pushed Gideon aside with his magic to give himself room.

“I’ll admit, finding out the bastard you were playing with was an Equalist does slightly ruin your performance,” Sharpshot said. “Not enough for me to say it was terrible though. Almost makes me think music mare is more fitting a nickname, right soldier mare?”

“Wait, wait. Go back a sentence or two,” I replied, flailing my front hooves in front of me. “What did you just call him?”

“An Equalist, like what that ghost from earlier was referring to,” Gigi explained. There was still a tenseness in her body, but the reasons were different. It no longer concerned her brother and herself having given Gemmy alcohol, but something far worse. “They’re… scary folks. Cultists who believe in some divine messenger named Starlight Glimmer.”

“Whoever she is, she fucked with their minds badly,” Sharpshot replied, his temper rising higher with each word. “They claim to be a perfectly equal society, but they sure as hell are anything but perfect. Murdering alicorns out of a false belief they destroyed the world and not the ministries, the expected enslavement of any who doesn’t believe in their god, that shit.” He snarled in rage, looking at me with crazed eyes. “They hoist themselves up as paragons when they are nothing but a backwards, low intellect, parasite of a civilization that–“

“Calm, Sharpy, calm,” Willow said, leaning forward and motioning for him to relax. “He can’t hurt is here, remember that. He tries anything, a guard or otherwise will shoot him.” She leaned her head to the left, a manic yet sorrowful expression taking over her features. “Though, I’d definitely prefer to be the one to do it. Break his limbs one by one, then crush his skull to give him maximum pain for all the other alicorns he has killed.”

Gideon swallowed nervously. “You’ve thought this through a bit, I see.”

“Those meanies are some of the folks that got closest to killing Sharpy and me. I have many reasons to consider how they would die,” the alicorn explained, anger and excitement mixing together into a familiar deranged attitude. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to just mangle their bodies into abstract art. They’re the worst, acting like no path but theres is acceptable when we know that isn’t true. I mean, look around us! This is the least trouble I’ve had getting into a settlement in over a century!”

“That was before you became an alicorn too. You and Dead Hooves had certainly put a face to the name Bloody Angel,” Sharpshot said, a reluctant chuckle leaving his throat. The griffons next to us looked to me for an explanation, which ended up being a simple shrug. “Either way, be careful around fuckers like him soldier mare. He knows you are friends with an alicorn now, and he likely isn’t going to be friendly.”

“Noted,” I replied. I glanced away to nowhere for just a second, only to look back at him. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea to tell the Shattered Moon as well. They didn’t seem like they wanted those types around here.”

Sharpshot nodded. “Good point. I’ll be right back then.”

He disappeared for a time, leaving the rest of us to momentarily relax in silence. Not that there was much silence to be had with how rowdy the pub was getting, but the ability to just lay back and relax for a time was nice. When Sharpshot returned, he had brought a number with him. Earth pony by the looks, a more feminine frame from what little I could gleam from them.

“Sorry to inconvenience your time, everycreature,” they said, their voice along the lines of androgynous with a more masculine lean. Clearly my guess was off. “You are the folks they were sitting next to? The Equalist?”

“Not just sitting next to, played with them tol,” I explained. I motioned a hoof in the vague direction of the stage. “I was on stage not too long ago. They didn’t seem that bad.”

“They usually aren’t, at least at first. They’re ponies like us after all, only difference is that they’ve been fooled into believing a culture that's more harmful than good,” the pony said, taking out a small note pad. “Still, with recent events, we can’t be too careful. Give me a description and name, I’ll tell my brothers and sisters to keep an eye out for them.”

I did as asked, telling the number everything about Amaryllis I knew. They wrote everything down, asking here and there to repeat or inquire about something I might have left out. Once done, he spoke into a small radio and gave the description. His orange eyes alone were enough for me to tell something he had been told was not ideal. Then, he sighed.

“While I wish I was able to thank you all for your service, but unfortunately it is more than likely useless.”

Gigi tapped the side of her beak. “Is something wrong with it, sir?”

Something in the griffon saying “sir” was enough to make this pony's posture lighter. The air of authorities was still clear, but his annoyance had faded slightly.

“Nopony with that description and name is in our database,” he explained, “and nopony with both has entered or exited Underside’s wall in the past week. By all means, Amaryllis Bloom doesn’t exist.”

“What? How is that possible?” Sharpshot asked, sitting back down next to Gideon. “I’m certain he is real, that much is clear. Everycreature here met him, and those words he said to me were to clear to forget.”

The masked pony looked at the ghoul. “I’m not saying he doesn’t exist, just that it won’t help us find it.”

“Why is that?” Willow asked, a tilt of her head.

While the telepathic intrusion clearly put him off a bit, he managed to remain composure. His answer to the alicorn’s question proved to be simple. One word, unforgettable, and strange at the same time.

“Changeling.”

…

“What?” I asked.

“The thing you serenaded the pub with, the thing you chatted and talked to? It’s not a griffon, or a pony, it was a changeling,” he repeated. “Shapeshifters. They typically look like bugs when untransformed, and they consume good emotions. They can be anything, anyone, right down to their voice.“

My mind wasn’t entirely sure how to process those words, for two reasons. The first is just the idea of what I had talked with, played with, and been teased by not even twenty minutes ago. I had simply thought of Amaryllis – whoever they truly were – as another stallion whose genitals did most of the talking. There were plenty of those out there after all, both on the surface and in the clouds.

If changelings literally fed on positive emotions, as I believe the number was telling us, it put that teasing and behavior in a new light. A very dark, worrying light. What could they have done to me if I had told them more about Anchor?

I banished that thought immediately. There was no way in my right mind I would ever fall for an imitation of him. Fuck, I’d recognize him even when I’m drunk.

That still left the other reason this all remained so hard to process. I recognized the abilities, and a side glance at Willow told me she did too. The appearance, the capability to shapeshift, I knew a creature that could do that. The only difference was in their intelligence.

However, that was easily explained. Shifters were merely the ghoul version of a changeling, insectoid and hungry. At least the latter knew the dead were useless for emotional feeding. That was still a thought worthy of a shiver, however. It had to use its ability to sense and eat emotions somehow.

Most likely scenario? They used it to find the perfect time to strike.

“I’m guessing their existence is a new development to you all,” the number before us all said, having easily taken notice of the general silence from us, with the exception of Gemmy’s drunk giggles. “Understandable. We didn’t know they existed until after the Last Day. Even then it's nearly impossible to actually find one.”

“And the fact they can be anypony means it’s impossible to give a proper description,” Sharpshot summarized. The stallion before us gave a nod, and the ghoul sighed. “Well, guess the five of us are heading to the motel at the same time. Just for safety measures.”

“Yeah,” I responded, Willow showing her agreement with a small smile towards her husband. I briefly returned my attention to the guard. “Sorry we weren’t able to help, sir.”

“None of your fault ma’am, this was completely out of your control,” he replied, bowing his head. “I have to ask, are you Singing Rhapsody by any chance?”

While the noise in the pub hadn’t lessened a bit, the pony’s sudden question made everything feel quieter. How the hell did they know who I am? There was no way whoever they had been speaking to over the radio knew I was present, and I wasn’t flaunting my name to anypony. Hadn’t done that since the ancestry test proved how wrong the attitude was.

“Yes, that's me,” I answered, more than a little guarded. I suddenly really wish I had one of my firearms on me. “Why are you asking?”

“I was asked to give you something. They seemed certain we would cross paths.”

The masked pony searched their saddlebags, revealing the left side of their body in the process. They had been hiding it from us prior, something I hadn’t thought anything about until that moment. I sucked in a large breath, leaning away in fear. Up until that point, I had thought they were an earth pony, much like Amaryllis had disguised themselves as.

That wasn’t the case. The pony before me was a pegasi, but only their left wing was present on their body. Someone or something had taken away their ability to fly, the mere thought making my own wings flutter in discomfort and fear.

“Here it is,” he said, placing something down on the counter. It was a data stick for a terminal or PipBuck. “Not sure what is on it, but the pony was insistent on finding its way to you. Said you would want to hear it.”

“Okay, got it. Thank you,” I replied. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on their wings, sorrow and distress in my eyes. “Have a wonderful day sir.”

Despite the mask, I knew something I had said put a huge smile on their face. He saluted me with his left wing, an Enclave salute at that. They were a Dashite, one just like me. Down here for something likely not even their fault. It was more than possible his commanding officer had deemed the loss of a wing enough reason on its own.

Immediately after they’re salute ended, they made themself scarce. Likely had to return to patrolling.

“You’re not worried he’s one of your targets?” Sharpshot asked.

I shook my head. “Impossible, trust me.”

“I don’t mean to judge your judgment Rhapsody,” Willow replied, tilting her head ever so slightly right, “but wouldn’t a group like the Shattered Moon be the perfect place for them to hide?”

“Not saying it isn’t, but that stallion we saw,” I motioned in the direction they had left, “Lucky Shot’s voice is deeper, and he had both his wings. What use would those four have to ground themselves, when they are pegasi?”

Time blends together when you have good times, and all it took was a drink or two for the thought of changelings to drift into the back of my head. While I kept my own drinking to a far lower than those around me, I certainly wasn’t sober. It was only a matter of time till all but Willow were drunk, though everyone present was too preoccupied laughing and yelling like idiots to notice.

Turns out alcohol is very ineffective on alicorns. The more you know.

Most of the events at the pub are hard to recall because of that reason. What I do remember is Willow carrying both her husband and Gemmy out that night as we made our way to the motel. Gold ended up being the individual to help me back, though I didn’t need it anywhere near as much as those two. The griffon was so drunk he appeared completely sober.

I was hoofed a passed out Gemmy when we arrived at the motel, and Gold got the keys to our room. Willow bid us three a good night, and then disappeared into their room. The saucey look they gave each other before disappearing was more than enough to gauge exactly what was going to happen. I was more than happy to not be in the same room as them for it.

“They good couple,” Gold said, staring longingly at where they had been. He was imagining himself in Willow’s place, I’m certain of it. “Am jealous.”

“Tell me about it,” I whispered. Even if our jealousy spawned from different places, the feelings stayed the same. What I would give to cuddle next to my husband, right then and there. “Hey, Gold.”

“You wonder how talk with Falke went.”

I winced. There was the tiniest hit of anger in his words, all focused on me. In hindsight, I had forced it upon him. With a sigh, and prepared for a reprimand of either vocal or physical variety, I nodded.

“Sorry–”

“Don’t apologize. You don’t fully mean it,” he interrupted. He looked directly at me, eyes seeming more predatory than normal.

“I wanted to help, Gold.”

“Yes, but wrong way to help. Wanted out, instead forced to talk.”

“And that is a bad thing?”

“I….” For a brief period of time, he looked at the ground. When he next turned his attention toward me, the anger had been replaced by vulnerability. “Didn’t want it. Silently asked for out. You abandoned me.”

My ears drooped ever so slightly. “Was it really that bad? You two seemed to be having a good time.”

I was asking either the right or wrong, because the vulnerability on the old griffon seemed to increase drastically. I sat down between two motel doors, a far more visible rise and fall evident in his chest. I sat across from hun, back to the rest of Underside and Luna’s moon. It was at that moment his longing and vulnerability took a more intimate, devastating form of expression.

Heartbreak. Every piece of his face was motivated by heartbreak.

“Falke is… wonderful!” He said, staring at the stars. “Handsome, smart, good sense of humor, authoritative. Everything I wanted. Everything I wished for. No wonder love grew in my heart.” He tried to smile as his eyes teared up. “When we were young, I told him. He was surprised, I was hopeful… but then he was sad. He couldn’t return it.”

“Because he’s straight, like me,” I whispered.

Gold nodded, a tear managing to escape his eyes. “Yes. Should have noticed but…,” he sighed after a moment, “Falkes said he understood, but didn’t feel the same. I… I try to understand, but the yearning,” a talon flew to his chest, clutching feathers, “the yearning stays. It still there. Felt it earlier, was scared. Might do something foolish. Hurt him. Didn’t want to. Wanted out.” He finally looked at me again. “Thought you would offer out.”

My ears fell against my head at the state the griffon was in. “Gold, you do realize that would hurt his feelings even more, right?” He didn’t respond. “Did you even tell that you… you know?”

“No,” he said. “He smart, he knows. Besides he’s… he’s not in right place to hear it.” The tears seemed to grow greater as he said that, voice cracking. “Lost wife, lost kids. Gideon, Gigi, all he has. Acts tough but,” he pointed a claw to one of his eyes, “lack of light in eyes. Easy to see. Hurts to see.”

A piece of me wondered if that was a safe enough topic to approach, but as the silence dragged I figured I had to. “I… heard as much from Gideon and Gigi. Died on a contract, and no creature knows what.”

“Not true,” Gold countered. He was doing it a lot tonight, though this time it felt a bit from being a simple reflection of fear. “Falke knows, won’t say. It's best if they don’t know.”

“Definitely wouldn’t be your standard raider then,” I replied. Gold gave a barely visible nod in my direction. “What was it then? Ghouls? Changelings? A roam balefire fossil? S-scorptions?”

Gold suddenly clammed up. He brought a talon to his head and wiped the tears away as quickly as possible. There was a touch of disappointment on his face, but it wasn’t pointed at me or anycreature else I could think of. At least, anycreature not named Gold themselves. There was no way a grounder as old as him was afraid of a few tears ruining some masculine image.

It gave me questions, but before I was able to ask he suddenly spoke up. “Craven.”

His answer had been quiet, subtle, and not loud enough for me at that moment. Yet something about it made my stomach churn, and morbid curiosity got the better of me.

“Can you say that again, Gold?”

After a few more seconds of silence, beak touching his chest, he answered. “Killed by craven.”

Nothing about her looked right.

The zebra’s fur looked to be falling out, large patches of pale skin seeming to consume her body. The same went for her mane and tail, disheveled and falling apart to the point there was basically a large hole on the back of her neck. Her eyes were hazy, the white in them seeming to consume their irises and pupils. Add in the way half her teeth had formed into canines, and the drool cascading from her muzzle, and intelligence seemed completely gone.

Yet, as she looked at me, I found that was wrong. “Dead Hooves?”

I leaned forward, the metal clicking of the walking contraption Stitches made for me nearly silent compared to the fast beating of my heart. I stepped forward, sound drowning as I looked at the mare before me. The only thing I was able to hear was that damned spirit's horrible, insidious voice. Where once his words were indecipherable, I knew well now what he said.

“This is us, kin. This is us.”

Despite the lump in my throat, I managed to get one word out. A name for the zebra that I saw before.

“… mom?”

Craven, I knew what those were too well. The fate of those touched by the gluttonous one. Ponies made monsters by the continual eating of their own kind. Their fur, mane, and tail fell away, their brains becoming closer to that of an animal. Color was drained and metabolism accelerated until they were just a pale, lanky, equine thing. At first they seemed, outside of the craven's more supernatural creation, like any ghoul roaming the wasteland.

That couldn’t be further from the truth. They were smarter than any ghoul, cunning. While blind as a bat, their sense of smell was a dozen times more powerful than the average ponies. While they weren’t sapient, they could mimic speech perfectly. Smell you out, draw you in with words, and then they rip into your throat before you know they are there.

If that didn’t work? They would chase you down with speed rivaling the great traitor herself. It was either you, or them. A corpse had to be made.

Such was the fate of anypony who participated in cannibalism. It was moms, and it was mine…

…

Wait, that wasn’t right.

I looked at my hooves, and was greeted with magenta instead of tan. I reached a hoof to my head, and the feeling of a horn on it dissipated. Instead two weights on the side of my body made myself known. How could I have forgotten about them? I’m a pegasus, my wings are what make me… me!

Realization struck. The memory I had just seen wasn’t mine, but Dead Hooves’. What was she doing to me?

“Rhapsody know of craven?” Gold asks. His voice cut through my fear momentarily, but a look of horror had wormed its way onto my face. He reached a talon out to me, though he was too far to place it on my shoulder. “Are… are you oka–“

“Fine. Perfectly and utterly fine!” I replied, shaking my head at him. I tried to morph a faux frown onto my face, but I failed. My entire being was stuck in terror. “Yes. I’ve… I’ve heard of them. He’s sure that is what killed them?”

Gold nodded. “Positive.”

“I see.” I learned to my right, staring out into the quiet night-time streets of Underside. “I don’t regret making you talk to him, Gold. You had to. Whether you see him again or not after this, leaving on bad terms is wrong.” Eyes gazed at the hundred stars above, taking in each and every light that tried to light it up. “The same goes for feelings, because the last thing you want is for somepony to die without you ever telling them what you needed to. It makes you feel guilty, horrible.”

All the griffon gave for a verbal response was sigh, getting up and moving towards the door. He brought out the key Willow had hooved him, unlocked the door, and then opened it. Instead of immediately heading into the darkness of the motel room, he turned around and looked at me.

“Coming in? Our room.”

“L… Later,” I told him. “I have some things to think about.”

“Will leave door unlocked. Lock behind you.”

After a nod to show I understood, Gold disappeared into the darkness of the room. The door closed behind him, and moments after it shut I was able to see slight signs of light through the cracks. With nopony living around, I laid down on the cold sand below me, closed my eyes, and shuddered. My hooves drew in to shield my chest and stomach from it, but the cold was the cause of my sudden shivering.

What in Celestia’s name was happening to me? What the fuck had Dead Hooves done?!

I had known two days prior that her spells had been acting uncharacteristically. My dreams were still filled with short glimpses of her life, from her time with her mom and dad to after meeting Willow and Joy. I knew far more about her then I should, and some of those things were far too personal. DH’s feelings towards her mother, the near constant way she contemplated death, those unnatural cannibalistic urges, I had experienced them first hoof.

A small piece of me hoped it was as simple as that. I learned more about her life – as the spell originally intended – and the haywire aspects focused on that alone. That clearly wasn’t the case; I knew that was one of her memories I had just seen. Conjured up in my mind while I’m awake, making me think and feel like somepony different, her spell acting up again.

For a brief period of time I was Dead Hooves, not Singing Rhapsody. The only thing saving me was my coat color and my wings, but how long would it stay that way. How long until the lines blurred so greatly where those couldn’t save me anymore. Would my hindlegs stop functioning? Would I lose the knowledge needed to fly? Was I going to lose all I was, and become… her?!

I didn’t want that. I really, really didn’t want that… but was it even possible to stop it at this point?

It was the fact I had no answer to that question which easily scared me the most.

…

“I’m sorry, Rhapsody.”

I didn’t need to look to see who it was. This had to be the moment Dead Hooves arrived.

“You heard Gold’s words earlier. Don’t say sorry if you don’t mean it.”

“But I am. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I told you that.”

“What you tell me doesn’t matter. Your memories are doing something to me. Just a couple of minutes ago, I thought I was a unicorn. I thought I was you.”

“I know. I felt it too, but in a different way.”

I opened my eyes, I tilted my head to look behind me. Dead Hooves' back was turned to me, but I was able to see the discomfort in her eyes. It was the look of somepony in pain, but that didn’t make sense. She was dead! There was no way any of it was–

“Rhapsody… move your wing,” she asked. Confused but willing to play along, I extended my uninjured wing. “No, you're injured one.”

My brow raised. “How did you know which one I moved? You’re not even looking.”

“Just…. Just do it.”

“And hurt myself?”

“You won’t feel a thing. Trust me.”

While I her words had earned a scowl, I decided to humor her. After all, a moment of pain would be nothing compared to everything else going on. Taking a deep breath, and sitting back up, I extended my injured wing.

…

I blinked a few times, and then looked at the wing. I gave it an experimental flap, looking for any sign of the injury. The bones inside it certainly didn’t feel right, but there was no pain. I stood up, gave both a flap and was airborne for the first time in days. For the briefest of moments, excitement and elation took over every piece of my being.

It was only fitting for it to be broken by a pained growl seconds later. Except… it wasn’t from me.

“Stop! Stop! That’s enough!”

I allowed myself to fall back to the ground, looking to Dead Hooves with more concern than I thought myself capable of having for her. The ghost had doubled over, hooves reached and grabbed an appendage that didn’t exist. Eyes closed shut, lips curled back into a pained snarl. It was only when my wings finally rested back at my side that she seemed to relax.

Breath – actual, hearable breathes, coming in sync with the rise and fall of her chest – filled the silence as DH got back up. She was clearly still uncomfortable, but she laughed as she turned to me. It was fake, an attempt to deal with whatever she had just gone through.

No, what she had forced herself through. That was more accurate.

“Guess I should have been a bit more specific. My bad,” she joked, labored breaths leaving her mouth as she tried to slow her breath down. “Wings feel weird. How do you deal with them?”

I met her question initially with a confused look. “I… never really had to think about it.” A pause followed, long enough for my brain to put the pieces together. “Wait. You mean–“

“Yep, I feel your wings. Just like how you seemed to take my horn from me not too long ago,” she explained. A faux frown formed on her face. “Rude, by the way. You don’t just take somepony’s horn from them.”

“I-I didn’t mean to!” I shouted. It sounded a bit more defensive and nervous then I anticipated. “I didn’t want it. Why would I? I’m a pegasus, not… not you!”

“Gee, thanks,” Dh replied sarcastically, her experience deadpan to match. “You admit it, though. You felt my horn on your head.”

I nodded my head, bringing a hoof to the exact point in my head it had been located minutes earlier. “Yeah. Gold mentioned the craven, I had this memory of your mother when she…,” I swallowed, “when she was almost completely gone. When it ended, I thought I was you.”

I felt tears welling up in my face, thinking on the memory. Though she was Dead Hooves’ mother, the ghost mare’s memories certainly made her feel like mine. It was so much easier grabbing onto her as a maternal figure, given how absent my own mom had been. It made it hard to distinguish if the pain and sorrow I felt was mine, or DH’s.

After a time, I came to the conclusion it was indeed my own. Cannibalist she might have been, her mother, Apex, was a sweet mare. It was impossible to not see the love she had for her daughter, how Dead Hooves odd affection for her formed… and how much it hurt both of them, in that moment. There was no need to imagine the pain, guilt, and fear DH felt when looking at the twister creature her mother had become. I had lived it, same as her.

“Of all the moments to see her,” Dead Hooves whispered. With a shake of her head, she let her horn glow. “I’m going to show you her. How I remember her.”

I leered at the specter. “Cast any magic on me and–“

“I’m not casting anything on you, Rhap,” Dead Hooves explained, turning to the small, empty lot that made up the motel’s parking area. This place, like the Lucky Clover, was another piece of Underside from before spellfire rained from above “I didn’t ever need to. If the goal of my memory spell was to show you my life, then I never would have done anything to you. We wouldn’t be having this conversation now, most likely.”

With a swish of her horn, DH pulled a strand of something from… somewhere in her. It floated into the parking area, and then burst into star-like dust. While scattered at first, it quickly began to clump together and a scene formed. A scene of a place far from San Palomino, in that same rickety shack I now recognized as DH’s home. The entire thing aas

There was a pony and a zebra in it, both familiar. Dead Hooves’ dad, Arcane Glyph, was easy to identify from that experience all the way back in Alibi Street Theater. Apex, however… It was like looking at a different zebra altogether. She was still slim, dangerously so at that – a likely sign of how long the gluttonous one had her in their grasp – but not horrifically thin. Motherly azure eyes, a healthy black and white coat more befitting a zebra.

She smiled at memory DH, mouth moving but no words filling the air. They same happened with Arcane Glyph, carrying an expression filled with joy. If only I knew the words they spoke, the conversation happening between these three, but that was impossible. If I had seen this memory it had faded back into the subconscious to never greet the world again. All I was able to do was watch as parents and daughter enjoyed each other's company, current day Dead Hooves staring at them lovingly.

Completely admit, I felt extremely jealous, seeing how happy they all were.

“All her bedtimes stories, all her lessons, every joke she told me,” Dead Hooves said, walking up to memory Apex. Her hoof tried to brush against her moms fur, but it just went through them instead. “I remember them like the back of my hoof. I love her. I wanted to be as wonderful as her. That makes it so, so hard, knowing what the gluttonous one was doing.”

“Did you ever see her spirit, after you died?” I asked.

Dead Hooves shook her head, the glow of her horn fading and, with it, the memory shown to me. “She was completely gone when she died. An eternally hungry monster, no semblance of what made her my mom left. Even if she was still in there,” Her head fell, “the gluttonous one had her soul. As soon as she died, he ate her.”

“I… I see,” I said. “Dead Hooves, I’m so sorr–“

“Who are you talking to?”

A new, vaguely familiar voice drew both of our attention away from that conversation. While it took me a few seconds to understand why their was a Spritebot seemingly staring at us, Dead Hooves recognized who it was immediately. Her mood instantly brightened, a sheepish smile the bot was incapable of seeing appearing on her face.

“Watcher!” She shouted. “Funny seeing you around. Didn’t think you would be alive after all this time. Guess that rules out you being a regular pony.”

Author's Note

Very likely this is gonna be the last chapter uploaded this year, and oh boy is it a long one.

200k+ words in that span of time is honestly incredible, and the fact I have been able to keep at it for this long is even more so. Not sure if I'll be able to keep up that pace, but either way I head into 2024 with a monumental accomplishment under my belt.

Thanks to my friends Lone Writer, Skelter, and Chayn for all the help they have given me, and thanks to all of you for joining me on this adventure. See you next year everypony!