One Last Mission

Day 10

Nowhere, San Palomino Desert

If only that was the end of my night, but something out there wouldn’t let me sleep just yet.

It wasn’t anything dangerous that kept me up. The ghosts that had called this town home had more than a few questions as to why the mine had been destroyed. There was only so much Malt could do to calm them; they needed to hear the truth from the ponies who were responsible for the eternal burying of their family.

Listening to every one of them grieve for family lost or turned though, it was another sign of pain on an agony filled night. It was like having to tell the family of a soldier that their sibling or child had died. At least those families could believe that death had meant something, defense of a country or otherwise. It was not the same here.

Giving them all closure meant watching as mother and father, sibling or cousin, wept. They had to accept that the souls among their community still missing would never come up. Whether they were lost in the caves or devoured by the Gluttonous One didn’t matter. The tears were the same.

I was so tired when it was all said and done. My hooves were practically dragging through the sand as I entered Nowhere proper, E.F.S. leading to where my companions had decided to sleep for the night. I didn’t bother to make it inside like the rest of them, instead slumping to the ground up against the wooden walls of our makeshift sleeping quarters. That should have been the point I had finally been able to pass out.

Unfortunately, one earlier question was still lingering in my head like a horrid smell.

Am I dying?

It wasn’t the first time the question of mortality had reached my head, but never before had it felt so bleak. Back home, in the Enclave, dying meant something more than just fading into the afterlife. You had served a cause, helped defend your fellow pegasi, made your friends and family proud. Sure, dying itself was not something to openly seek but at least life had a clearly defined meaning.

Back then there was also the possibility of some greater afterlife. The words ‘they are off to the Everafter’ felt real. There was something grander to what came next, a place to enjoy eternal rest. It certainly seemed better than believing there was nothing after, or that we became nothing but a wandering spirit with no way to contact those alive that we love.

These were, to me, the keys that made death something to find comforting. Now I had learned the truth, and like every other time the wool had been stripped from my eyes since arriving on the surface I hated it.

Moondancer forcing Bone Breaker into commiting suicide, the remains of those who had died from balefire in Trotson, and now these miners who were twisted beyond recognition. What purpose did these deaths serve? What reason was there for a son to watch their mother kill themselves against their own will? Perhaps if there was something greater to what came after I could be assured these souls found peace in death.

Yet they didn’t, instead living in a limbo that can’t be escaped. There was no resurrection, no eternal peace, just endless wandering. Sure there were other spirits by your side but they were… oddly few. Gemmy mentioned something happening to her mom’s spirit that took them away forever. Was everypony fated for that same oblivion?

Which all led back to the question that sent me down such a terrible spiral: am I dying? Nothing I had said answered the question. It just made saying ‘yes, I am dying’ much harder. Denying that reality felt easier, even if it didn’t solve anything.

My ears perked up on a sound, the steps of a creature not far away. It got ever so slightly louder and louder, closer and closer. It wasn’t an equine like myself; no clip clop of hooves with each step that hit my ears. I didn’t initially think anything of it, believing it to be another ghost.

Then, a pair of talons landed in front of me. My head jerked up, staring at them blankly for a moment. They didn’t belong to Gold, his were a bright yellow compared to this griff’s dull gray. The question of who this was had been firmly set in my mind. All I needed to do was look up to get my definitive answer.

The first thing to meet my eyes was the barely visible upward curve at the end of their beak. This was quite possibly the largest griffon I had ever seen, with a wing span large enough to encircle an entire settlement's worth of ponies. Pitch black feathers would have made them nothing but an outline if not for the predatory purple eyes staring down at me.

My heart skipped a beat. Even with the calming, almost maternal smile on their face, this griffon was terrifying. I was but a mouse before a cat. My mouth opened to speak up, but nothing came out. After what felt like half an hour of silence between us, they proceeded to pick up one of the talons…

And placed it on my mane.

“Hello, Singing Rhapsody,” they said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Maternal had definitely been the right descriptor. For as might and powerful as the griffon looked, there was a gentleness to them that proved indescribably. Their talons flowed through my mane pleasantly, and for a moment I felt myself get swept away in it. The sudden departure of their claws was like a wake up call to my body.

“I-I, um,” I blinked wildly, looking over their body for anything that might be remotely familiar, “do I know you?”

“Yes, though you not recognizing me is understandable,” they replied, the slightest sign of amusement in their breath. They made their way to my side, sitting down and wrapping their wings around me. It was warm, protective, and comforting. “Think about your younger days, when you didn’t have food to eat, or the grenade that nearly killed you on your first deployment. Perhaps both the close encounters with an alicorn in your later years in the Enclave’s service, or that…”

Their expression fell, their wings pressing against me just the tiniest bit. They stared into the palm of their talons for a moment, and then pressed it into their chest.

“That horrible tragedy in Trotson, five years ago.”

With each event mentioned, I felt the skin under my coat pale more and more. I search my memory for any sign of a pitch black griffon during those. Nothing came up, but that only led to another question. Most of the aforementioned incidents were from my time in the military, and I could imagine learning about them to some extent.

Those younger, hungry days, after mom had disappeared? They didn’t line up with the others. What the griff said was all true though; after mom got thrown in jail and dad started his own mental spiral, food rarely came into our house. Everything we had was spent on his alcohol addiction, meaning he stayed drunk and I stayed hungry. If it wasn’t for Ironsight finding out about everything, and his family personally feeding me, I wouldn’t be around today.

Young, dependent Singing Rhapsody, too idiotic to realize what starving was doing to her.

“He really was a shit father,” I muttered to myself. After a moment of silence, I looked up at the griffon before me. “How did you know about that?”

“I was there, Rhapsody. I already told you as much,” they explained, bringing a talon to their beak in order to hide their amusement. “I’m proud of you for living through that, and your resolve to make sure your own foals don’t end up the same.”

I shot up, backing away from their wing. My own sprung out, ready to fight or fly. This griffon stayed calm, shaking their head in what I assumed to be amusement. They must have seen me as a non threat.

“What in Tartarus do you know about Clear and Rainy?” I asked, practically growling at the griffon.

“I know they miss you, Rhapsody. As does Iron Anchor,” they responded. I winced, wings bending as I took a step back. “Having their mother disappear like that, with your husband unable to tell them the full truth. As far as they know, you’re dead.”

My legs collapsed under me, staring expressionless into the griff's eyes from what can best be described as a verbal punch to the gut. They… thought I was dead. Of course they thought I was dead; to all but the military the surface was believed to be a skin eroding, organ melting furnace. From Clear and Rainy’s perspective the Enclave had tossed me down here to die. Murdered, for reasons nopony but the very top of the government body would ever know.

The griffon closed the distance between us without me noticing, once again wrapping a wing around me. Their talons ran from my withers to halfway down my back in a slow, yet pleasant motion. It was calming, my heartbeat and breathing returning to a steady rate. I hadn’t even realized how close I had been to hyperventilating until right then.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the griffon replied. They repeated those words like a mantra for a while, and it seemed to further relax me for reasons I didn’t understand. “Listen to me, Rhapsody.”

I looked up to her, showing she had my attention.

“There is nothing you could do about it,” they explained, continuing to stroke my back even after I had fully calmed down. “Perhaps coming down here was a mistake, or perhaps it wasn’t. I’m not the judge of that, and I can’t fix it for you if the end conclusion is that it was wrong.”

All I could really think of doing at that moment was stare at them. I knew that; I had said and thought those same words multiple times in Trotson in my first week on the surface. Yet, hearing it from this unknown griffon somehow hit me differently.

To scold, then comfort and help in the way they had. Anchor and I had done that to Clear and Rainy before, when I was upset at them. No raised voice, just a slightly harsh tone and being as up front with them as possible. It was the correct way to treat foals, the one that didn’t end with them being afraid of you. That… was now being used on me.

“You have a question,” the griffon stated.

I wasn’t sure if I really did before she had said those words. After some thought, however? Yes, I definitely did.

“Who… are you?” I asked. That sentence was a floodgate, causing me to lean in and my mouth to keep moving. “How did you know about my… my foalhood? The other things, yeah, I can imagine words perhaps getting out around the surface but that makes no sense.”

My haunches raised slightly, in hopes to get ever closer to those glowing purple eyes above me. I felt a tentative smile reach my lips as something long buried, a piece of me long kept locked up, broke free.

“Have you been to the Enclave? How did you get past the cloud barrier and the guards? I mean, I think it would have been big news if a griffon managed to get past us. How did you avoid every–“ I stopped myself, realizing what I was doing. The buried piece was locked up again, and the soldier returned with a look of tense fury. “You didn’t just choose those earlier examples for no reason. Did you?”

The griffon nodded, her wing folded back up, and she stepped in front of me. Eye to eye, her wings extended once again, blocking the stars, the moon, everything. Even where her wings didn’t cover, the outlines of buildings or distant dunes that once were visible had now disappeared. When they were folded again, I was expecting the faint moonlight to return.

Instead, the darkness stayed, all consuming. Out of curiosity, I stretched a foreleg out to my left, where a rickety old building should have caught it. Instead it completely straightened out, hoof touching nothing. I slid towards the invisible building, searching for what I knew should have been there. I was met with nothing, absolutely nothing.

I let my hoof touch the ground again, and looked at the griffon with wide eyes and a loud inhale through gritted teeth. “What… are you?”

“Death,” the griffon replied instantly. I instantly tensed up, leading them to raise a talon. “Your fear is understandable, Rhapsody. I promise, I’m not going to harm you.”

“But… but you are–“

“I am not here to claim your soul either, or take you to the afterlife. I doubt I’ll be doing that for a long, long time,” Death says, chuckling lightheartedly. They motioned with a talk to our right, and I followed where it led. Two sofa chairs had appeared out of nowhere, dark red and inviting in a way I can’t explain. “I would just like to chat with you. Is that okay?”

I looked from Death, to the chairs in question, and then back to them. Something deep inside me, born from either the griffon's menacing appearance or the motherly way they acted, made turning down the offer feel wrong. Besides, it wasn’t like we hadn’t been talking already, and if they were here to claim my soul they would have likely done it by now.

Body still tense, refusing to let my eyes leave them in fear of what it might mean, I slowly made my way over to the chairs in question. Death didn’t start moving until I had already seated myself, sitting down to my left. I spent the majority of that time shifting around and fluttering my wings in extreme discomfort.

Not from the chair, it was actually extremely comfy. It was like sitting on a cloud that had broken loose back home. I’m absolutely positive Death had chosen that on purpose. It would have been more effective at relaxing me if they weren’t there.

What other reaction is a pony supposed to have when the physical incarnation of death was right there. As pleasant as they were – as willing as I am to admit they had been nothing but nice to me – my stomach was still twisted into several knots at their mere presence. What did they want from me? What reason would Death be here for if not to claim my physical body?

They answered both questions immediately after sitting down.

“I have already talked to your other half concerning this topic,” Death said. I immediately snapped my head their way, and was ushered to calm down. “Dead Hooves, I mean, not Iron Anchor. I feel the term best describes your, odd state of existence as of right now.”

“Just say DH then, next time,” I spat back. They nodded, smiles growing slight. It was as ineffective as it was previously. “What do you learn by ‘odd state’.”

They sighed. “I wish I could put it in a way that didn’t sound like a riddle. To try and make it as straightforward as possible, I have the answer to your earlier question, concerning whether you are dying.”

I bit the inside of my lip hard, to the point I could taste copper in my mouth. “The… the answer?”

“You are, at least spiritually, dead.”

The only word I paid any attention to was that last one: ‘dead’. I’m damn certain my heart stopped at that moment, if it had somehow still been functioning before that point. Every single hair on my body, head to tail, was on end, throat clogged by something I can’t comprehend. I take back what I said when Death mentioned my husband and foals. That was a verbal gut punch, this was a sword going through my heart and out my back.

My head hit the neck of the chair, its soft, cushioning material felt far too hard for the circumstances. I was dead. I was actually dead. While I should have asked about the obvious problems with their statement, my brain was too scattered to think about it.

“Yet, at the same time,” Death continued, her expression having shifted far more towards worry as they read my reaction, “through some strange loophole that the Infinite had only now decided to show to me, you are not. You, Singing Rhapsody, are just as much alive as you are dead.”

If that was somehow meant to calm me, it did a very bad job. My head was still spinning, mind fixated on the fact that I wasn’t alive to some measure. My chest started to rise and fall far more rapidly, wings flapping uselessly at my sides. I probably would have fainted if it had been allowed to continue.

Death, however, was not going to allow that.

Our chairs were close enough for their talons and wings to wrap around me, and they wasted no time doing just that. I was suddenly shielded in warmth, as comforting as before. There was the slight tugging of my mane being brushed, and combined with the aforementioned feathery embrace I felt that panic began to die.

Breathing slowed, chest rising and falling at a more normal rate, the only remains of my immediate panic was the beating in my heart. It would have been a sign of calm, if my mind wasn’t still focused solely on one thing.

I was, to some extent, dead.

“How… wh-why am I–”

“Being scared is completely understandable,” Death said. “Take your time, calm down, and then ask me whatever you need to.”

I closed my eyes, and immediately felt something wet fall down my face. “But I’m d-dead. Y-you said I’m dead.”

“I also said that, somehow, you aren’t,” they replied. Lowering their heads so that they didn’t tower over me, I felt another talon start to caress my back. “You're confused, you're scared, that is all normal. Let me assure you of one thing, once again: I’m not here to take you away.”

I opened my eyes and looked directly at Death. Our eyes were level to each other, and in theirs I saw honesty, kindness, and fear. Fear for me, for how I had reacted, and what it might lead me to do in the future. Seeing this mighty, terrifying griffon be afraid of what I could do to myself, it was the biggest comfort they were able to offer me.

My heartrate was finally dropping, leaving me tired and frazzled. Messy mane, tear-stained face, dry mouth and throat. My reaction was about on par with how I had reacted to being half-unicorn, though slightly more subdued and far more understandable.

“Death?”

“Please,” their talon moved to wipe away my tears, “call me Vigil.”

“O-okay, Vigil.” I swallowed, then took a deep breath, “what do you mean by ‘not entirely dead’?”

“That is going to take some explaining, but we got the time,” Vigil said. They removed their wings and talons from me, and with the latter they grabbed two small, porcelain cups that had appeared from nowhere. “Have you ever had tea, Rhapsody?”

“I haven’t,” I answered. “What does it have to do with me being dead?”

They giggled and shook their head. “Nothing. It’s a caffeinated drink, a lot like coffee. The difference is that tea acts more as a way to calm a pony, then energize.”

They showed the inside of one of the cups to me. I looked inside, taking note of a strange, reddish liquid. Steam rose from it, filling the air with a wonderful, fruity smell. The corners of my lips ever so slightly tugged up as I breathed it in.

“This cup is for you, if you are interested,” Vigil said.

I nodded, carefully placing the cup in my hoove and bringing it to me. I sat there for a full minute, taking in the smell like it was the only thing that mattered. It was so rich, so natural, if I hadn’t known I was supposed to drink it then I would have just sat there basking in fruity heaven forever. I didn’t even realize I was taking my first sip until after the liquid had hit my tongue.

Needless to say, it tasted just as good as it smelled. Just as fruity, soothing, and not so strong it was overpowering. Better than any coffee or alcohol I had ever had before. One sip alone was enough to make every muscle in my body relax, though I doubt that was fully thanks to the tea.

Either way, it was heavenly.

If it wasn’t for it being hot, I would have downed it all in one go. Instead, I took sip after sip, forcing myself to savor the drink before me. It removed the dry feeling from my throat, a welcoming comfort after an ugly, rare cry. Letting my head lean against the back of the sofa chair, I found it felt perfect. A far cry from how hard it had been during my earlier fit of panic.

“Everycreature has a mind, body, and soul,” Vigil suddenly said. I placed my now empty cup on the chair's armrest and leaned forward. They had my full attention. “Any one of these being annihilated leads to death. The means may be different, and sometimes it might simply be the death of identity, but that doesn’t change the truth.

“Your oddity began when, one week ago, your soul experienced death. You didn’t notice it, none of your companions did, and Dead Hooves had no idea what she had done.” My eyes went wide. Vigil gazed at me with a fierce but sympathetic glint in their eyes. “You know exactly what event I’m referring to.”

I nodded. “When Dead Hooves cast that memory spell for the first time, in that medical clinic.”

“No. She cast it for the first time in Alibi Street Cinema.”

I blinked, then began searching my memories for any sign of Dead Hooves on that second day in Trotson. My mind came up blank, and DH’s memories were so ingrained within my own mind picking out when I had seen them was impossible. It all just felt like a part of me, something that had always been there despite knowing full well it wasn’t the case. I rubbed my temple, the futile search bringing my head to hurt maddeningly.

“I… don’t remember her being there,” I said. “Are you sure that she was there?”

“I have notes on every living creature on this planet, Rhapsody. If something affects my domain, I would know of it,” Vigil explained, the slightest show of authority in their voice. “From the moment you two first met, your notes have grown increasingly less understandable. What does makes sense is this,” they drank the last of their tea, and set it down, “whatever happened to her memory spell, when it crossed from the plane of the dead to that of the living, led to your soul… being eaten, similar yet different to that of a craven.”

“Wh-what?” I asked. Needing to check the current state of my existence, I pressed my right hoof into my left foreleg. There was a slight twinge of pain from the action. “But, how? I feel as alive as I always have.”

There was a brief pause, before Vigil answered. “Tell me, Rhapsody, if Dead Hooves’ spirit was being consumed by what you all refer to as ‘the Gluttonous One’, then why is it whole?”

There was a sinking feeling in me, though I wasn’t quite sure I understood it. Why was it whole? What did that have to do with anything? I mean, sure, DH had been infected by the Gluttonous One but why could that possibly…

…

Oh.

“If…,” I had to swallow yet another lump in my throat. It was starting to get annoying, how often that was forming. “If it had eaten away only some small part of her spirit before she died, then I guess there should be some gaps or whatnot.” Vigil nodded, telling me I was on the right track. “It’s whole though, like you mentioned. If those gaps weren’t filled in by Dead Hooves… then it was filled in by the spirit that had taken her as a host.”

Silence gripped the air like a vice, and all I got in response was a hesitant nod from the griffon sitting next to me. A loud, defeated breath found its way out of my lips. I hung my head in grim acceptance, a noiseless ‘fuck’ mouthed. The sinking feeling had shown where its existence came from, and I now wished it had stayed hidden instead.

Dead Hooves was, by all means, the exact same creature now that had infected her in life. The pony she had afflicted in turn? Myself.

There was absolutely no way she could have known about this. All she had wanted to do was validate Sharpshot’s claims that I was related to her, nothing more. Eating my spirit, bonding us together to the point that I was able to use her horn as my own, she hadn’t planned for any of that. Sure, it explained everything, and my view of what was normal had been so skewed that I had immediately accepted Vigil’s claim as fact, but no way in Tartarus was it intentional.

Still, I needed to make sure. I lifted my head, and turned to Vigil. Their eyes were on me as well, waiting patiently for what was left of Singing Rhapsody to come to terms with her existence.

“Did she… did she know?” I asked.

“No, not until tonight,” Vigil answered. “I’d recommend talking with her later, when you are ready. She isn’t taking it well.”

“I will, don’t worry. I understand that she didn’t want any of this, same as me,” I replied. My eyes trailed over my body, or Rhapsody’s. The coat, the wings, the horn, none of it suddenly felt right on me. “Who am I then, if Rhapsody is dead?”

The griffon blinked, then tilted their head. “You aren’t dead, at least not completely. Sure, a part of yourself is gone, but everything else about you is still Singing Rhapsody. Your mind and body are still your own.” They looked away. “Despite the memories and sudden magical abilities you’ve gained, you are in no more danger. If that changes, I will tell you as soon as possible.”

“I would like that, yeah,” I said. “Thanks Vigil.”

They smiled, and I forced myself to smile back. Her answer should have comforted me but there was still an overall sense of wrongness in me. I understood what was happening, what had caused it, but none of it helped. It just added another layer of discomfort, my future feeling even more uncertain than it had previously. If it wasn’t for my mission, I’m certain this news would have left me directionless.

“I wish I had more time to discuss this and help you tonight, but I’m afraid I’m required elsewhere,” Vigil said. I leaned forward, reaching out to them and preparing to speak. The griffon preempted me, stopping my words once again with a simple gesture from her talons. “If you want my recommendation, consider within these next few days what you truly want to do with your life going forward. Talk to Dead Hooves, try and understand the pony you are joined to. You are like conjoined twins now; one can’t live without the other.”

My heart skipped a beat. “So since my soul is hers, if I die, we both… what? Disappear from existence?”

“Yes, and I would prefer to not see another bright soul taken from the world in that way.” There was a slight hint of anger, mixed with a little pain and grief. They almost seemed taken aback by the words they had said, with a pause in their words. “I’ll be watching Rhapsody, hoping that you aren’t taken that same way. I believe you have more left to give.”

They opened their wings, and I felt adrenaline rush through my veins. “Vigil wai–”

My forehooves didn’t collide with the smooth faux-leather of the sofa I had been sitting in moments prior, but instead sand. Lots and lots of sand, stretching as far as moonlight allowed it to, only broken up by old houses and other such buildings. I was standing when I didn’t remember standing prior, and most unwelcoming of all was the cold desert breeze that went through my fur.

I was back in Nowhere, though that assumed that the place Vigil had briefly taken me was somewhere else. For a moment, I pondered all I had just witnessed. Was it real, or a dream from an overly exhausted mind? It certainly seemed possible, and more welcoming then accepting any of what I had just heard as true. It was pleasant to think of everything with Vigil as nothing more than some horrifying nightmare.

Then I remembered I had already checked for signs that would point to a dream. Pain from my hoof, the scent and taste of tea, the feeling of her wings and talons holding me as if I was a scared foal. Those were all signs it was real… but it might just be a trick on my mind! Nopony ever said those couldn’t occurred in your sleep so perhaps–

Any idiotic, ignorant hope I had was dashed as I heard the flap of a wing. I looked behind me, to an old building standing so yards away. There I saw a shroud, with large wings and purple eyes. With another flap, they took to their air, and I followed for as long as my eyesight would allow me. It was more than likely that it had been even longer too, given how their body blended into the night.

Through the mere sight of Vigil, I had no choice but to acknowledge that everything I had just witnessed was true. I was left feeling wide awake, all exhaustion from my body gone, and dread filling my mind. There would be no sleep for me, for Death had come, imparted on me knowledge that I did not want, and left me with no true direction to go.

Nowhere, San Palomino Desert

Day 11

I was quiet the majority of the morning, Vigil’s uncomfortable truths and a lack of sleep leaving me in a bad mood. What little sleep I did get felt worthless, the conversations around me blending in with the breeze and the chatter of ghosts. My companions more than knew it too, or at the very least Willow and Day Glow did. One hoof from each pressed against my withers, nudging it to get my attention.

I shot the alicorn and pegasus with a harsh glare. “What?”

Willow winced at my tone. “Are you okay, Singing? You’ve been kind of grouchy this morning.”

“Yeah, you looked like you just got done with a duty day,” Day Glow replied. “The worst one of your life, for a matter of fact.”

“Impressive feat, right there. Surface really is full of surprises,” I said, a groan leaving my mouth immediately after. I hid my muzzle under my hooves and averted eye contact, inwardly blanching at the dry tone I was currently using. “Sorry, slept like shit.”

“Because of the cravens?”

I shook my head. “If only. Cannibal spirits I can deal with… for the most part. It’s the talisman we had to destroy for me to leave the mine.” Both Willow and Day Glow tilted their heads. “It thought I was a ghost, Willow. DH’s spell? Turns out it fucked with me so much that some part of me is considered dead.”

No need to mention Vigil, so far as I’m concerned. Would make me seem crazier than I was already becoming, and the last thing I needed at the moment was for ponies to think I’ve completely lost it. The fact I had reached the point where being dead made more sense then talking to death themself? Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d be justifiably locked up in an insane asylum back in the old world.

“You’re… kidding, right?” Day Glow asked. Sweet Luna, the concern and disbelief in the stallion’s voice was enough to tell me how ridiculous this all sounded.

“You saw me doing magic; you witnessed my little… episode yesterday with the warding talisman. Would I kid about something like that?” I spat. Willow flinched, but Day Glow was as still as a statue. This wasn’t his first time seeing me in a state like this. “If that isn’t enough, ask the fucking pragmatist who takes care of our injuries.”

…

“So you are not fine.”

“No! I’m not!” I shot up at the speed of a bullet, the alicorn flinching yet again. “I’m very much not fine! How in Tartarus am I supposed to be fine when I don’t even know if I’ll be dead in the next few days?!”

Willow and Day Glow offered no answer, not that I expected them to have any. While the latter merely shied from making eye contact, I saw something much more… emotion takes shape on the former. A look of resignation marked by flat ears, a barely visible frown, and eyes that looked at nothing and everything at the same time. There was something more to it, that I was unable to put my hoof on, but it was a sharp contrast to the Willow I knew.

Something large and feathery brushed my withers, and I tensed up. Turning around, half my brain expected to see Vigil standing in front of me once again. Instead of their pure black, however, I was met with the black and yellow of Gold. There was something coy about his expression, perhaps amusement or sympathy, but it wasn’t entirely sincere.

“We all die. I die before rest of you, hopefully,” he said. His tone assured me that at least some of that expression was, in fact, amusement. “You not allowed to die. Lucky needs you. Part of contract, remember?”

I nodded, and then immediately looked past him to Sharpshot. The ghoul was watching the two of us, horn lit up, the abomination lifted off the ground but not yet pointing at me. That made me just a little bit safer.

“So I’m not allowed to feel miserable at what is happening to my body?” I asked him.

“No. You are.” He responded. “Wait till job is done. Once in Underside? Drink yourself stupid. Get your mind off things.”

“Wasn’t planning on that. There are less destructive ways to be miserable.”

I shoved past him, and at the same time Sharpshot cut his telekinesis. Gold’s words were a warning veiled by comfort, and the only reason I now recognized it was Sharpshot’s warning the day before. I made my way over to them, flashing a smile at the ghoul which was both real and fake at the same time. Real in that I truly did appreciate him watching my flank, fake everywhere else. As soon as we were within whispering distance of each other, I groaned.

“Today is going to be shit.”

Sharpshot nodded as he returned to gathering up all our supplies. “You can feel it too, eh? Glad to know I’m not the only one who woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“That assumes you ever wake up on the right side,” I replied, sitting down next to him. He passed me a granola bar, one of a good number he had purchased back in Underside. They were filling, if a bit lacking in the taste I was getting used to out of surface foods, “and that I got any sleep.”

“Fair enough,” he said, chuckling lightly. I snorted as he did; it was nice having somepony to share in the misery with. “Guessing you had an unwanted nighttime visitor.”

His sentence made me pause from taking my first bite. “You too, huh?”

“Unfortunately.” There was a strain behind the word, perhaps a little malice too. “Dusty bones decided to drop in. I got angry, he laughed and made himself sound smart, and then he showed me a tarot card, Two of them, actually.”

“A… tarot card?” I asked. I finally took a bite of my granola.

“Think of a deck of cards,” he replied, “but instead of playing games with them they are used to divine things about ponies. Maybe the past, the future, something about yourself. Didn’t believe in that shit till he showed up.” He looked towards the others and raised his voice. “I need to talk to soldier mare about something real quick. I’ll be right back.”

I let loose a series of rapid blinks. His words had grabbed Willow, Day Glow, and Gold’s attention. Words were exchanged, but I was too focused on what was going on in my head to grasp any of them. Where the heck had this come from?

“Be quick,” Gold shouted back. “Quicker we find target, the better.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Sharpshot replied as he turned around, walking away. “Will be back before your naptime. Now come on soldier, before the geezer changes his mind.”

“W-wait, why are we–”

A yelp left my mouth as my hindlegs were yanked out from underneath me. My muzzle fell into the sand, and was then dragged unceremoniously backwards through it and away from everycreature. I didn’t really need to look behind me to see the culprit behind my foalnapping, but I did anyway just to be completely certain. It was, as proven by my eyes, Sharpshot who was responsible, magic pulling me away.

“Uh, Willow? Where the fuck is your husband taking me?” I asked, looking back to the alicorn. Her earlier frown had been replaced by a pure-seeming smile. “Willow.”

“Don’t worry about it,” She unhelpfully replied. “Have a nice chat!”

One of my eyelids twitched in building rage. “Willow, I swear to everything still holy, when I get back I’m taking a barrel and shoving it up your ass!”

“That would be impressive. I would love to see you do it.”

The last thing out of my mouth by the time I was dragged out of sight was an annoyed scream. An attempted empty threat, undone by the target of it taking things just a little too seriously. It would have been funny in literally any other scenario if my question hadn’t been genuine. All I was able to do was let myself be dragged along the ground like an old world suitcase – the ones with the wheels on them to be precise.

I didn’t notice the stallion had stopped dragging me until he circled back in front of my face. I must have looked like a mess, it was the only way to explain the shit-eating grin on Sharpshot’s muzzle. The fact he was rolling around on the floor and having a laughing fit was downright incredible. As quickly as my legs allowed me, I shot up onto my hooves and gave the ghoul smack across the mane.

Apparently it was a bit harsher than I had meant for it to be.

“Fucking ow,” he grumbled. His misery did manage to get a smile onto my own muzzle for the briefest of moments. “Did you need to?”

“Considering you just dragged me away by my hindlegs, yes. Yes I did,” I answered. He made tons of small noises under his breath, like a foal after not getting what they wanted. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not asking for an apology.”

“Good, cause you’re not getting one.” His flank hit the sand, and he briefly looked behind himself. “Besides, with the mood you’re in I get the feeling that ‘yes’ isn’t the answer I would have received.”

“On that, you are correct.”

“Perfect! Now that this little side conversation is done with,” he pulled down his rags and coughed into his hoof, “you and Willow were on the cards.”

My shoulder slumped, as did my wing, a look of extreme disappointment on my face. He had done all of that, because some creature only he could see had shown him playing cards. With a roll of my eyes, I tried to step around him and head back towards the others. He met every single step, acting like a living wall, unflinching and stubborn.

“Let me through,” I ordered, placing one forehoof right beside his right one. He moved it so that I was no longer stepping around him, but rather into him. “Sharpshot.”

“Soldier mare,” he said, sharp and irritated in his delivery, “listen to me.”

“Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it.” Another attempt to step past him, another failure as he places himself in front of me. I let out a sarcastic chuckle at the ghoul’s actions. “You actually believe shit like that?”

“If it was from anypon–”

“I mean, there are pegasi who did shit like that back in the Enclave too. Scams, each one of them.” My amusement from it all was rising, unable to take his claims or attitude seriously. “Oh yeah sure, let’s read my wings too while we’re at it, or divine the future by the shape of the clouds.”

Sharpshot chewed on his lower lip, anger rising. “As I was saying, I understand. If it was from anypony else I’d be just as skeptical, perhaps more so than you. Trust me, though, when I say that the Dealer’s readings are always accurate.”

“Aw, why’s that?” I asked, full on mocking the pony before me. I didn’t notice the way his nostrils flared as he breathed, or the slow drag of one of his hooves against the sand below us as I asked that question. “Did he predict you’d get Willow Wisp?”

If I had been paying attention, I might have noticed how close I had been to snapping him before that point. Instead, with me being over-exhausted and perhaps unreasonably hostile with the stallion before me at points, I didn’t notice anything. Maybe some ponies would see that as an excuse, but in the end it all led to the same result.

I felt something grasp my neck at the same moment Sharpshot’s horn lit up. A croaking noise left my mouth, eyes and muzzle wide as the latter tried desperately to continue breathing. Both my forehooves went to my throat in a desperate attempt to remove whatever was binding me, only to find nothing. The cause of my constriction was simple telekinesis, used in a way I didn’t even know was possible until just now. In other words, I was completely at Sharpshot’s mercy.

“Listen up, Rhapsody,” he said. His voice had gone completely monotone, a faux laziness to his expression. “I’m trying to save my wife's life, and it is highly possible that I’m doing everything within my power to keep you from being broken in a way you won’t come back from.” A shiver passed through his body, and for a moment I saw fear make its way into his eyes. “I’m going to let go of your throat now. Keep your muzzle shut, and I won’t consider snapping your fucking neck. Understand?”

What other choice did I have but to nod frantically. Instantaneously, Sharpshot let go of my throat, and I collapsed to the ground as a heaving heap. Even if I wanted to tempt fate – to talk and see if he would actually try and kill me – I was so focused on breathing that forming words was useless. A few times, something tickled my throat and forced coughs out of me, probably sand I had inhaled.

All the while, Sharpshot waited patiently. His face kept that lazy look to it, staring down at me like a corrupt king would a pitiful peasant. He wanted my full, undivided attention, and he was going to make sure I was able to give him that. When he felt confident enough I could listen, he finally spoke.

“I used to not know what the cards mean, because I once laughed at it all just like you,” he explained, purposely allowing a little emotion to show. “One reading… changed that. I learned what it all meant, so I could hopefully prevent him from winning one day. Last night, he gave me a very similar reading to that day.”

He hung his head, teeth gritted and eyes closed.

“He showed me the Tower. That was Willow’s card.”

His words were marked with grim acceptance, as if this tower was an unavoidable fate. Fear and sadness had completely overwritten his anger, his flank hitting the sand as a sigh left his muzzle. I may not have had any idea what this card meant, but I didn’t need him to tell me anything else for that locked away piece of me to be unsettled.

“So something–” I started, only to shut up instantly as the anger came back to his eyes at the speed of light. Message received. I had to be careful with what I said, “Something bad’s going to happen to Willow.”

“The Tower represents danger, destruction, and sudden upheaval,” Sharpshot said. “The fuck do you think?”

“And it might be an attempt on her life.”

“On her life? No, but any of us?” He paused, looked away for a brief second, and then back to me. “I’m just… I’m scared, okay? She’s the only pony I have left from those days, and she’s the one I easily cared about the most. I see her on the Tower and…” His voice trailed quieter and quieter, though his mouth still moved. “Soldier mare, Rhaps, if you’ll allow me to call you that, I’m asking for your help here. I want you to help me possibly save my wife from doing something she might regret.”

My brow shot up, and my jaw hung open. I immediately closed the former, in hope a more subdued response would need lead him to give a cocky grin. Though, given how he bared his teeth and had looked away, I had a feeling it was as hard for him to ask me this as it was unbelievable to hear it. Perhaps he was also waiting for a witty retort of my own, one that gave him the chance to strangle me further.

Instead, I thought of myself in his position and what I would do if I feared Anchor was in some form of similar danger. Not that my husband was the type to go killing other folks, but the point was I would likely find myself in a similar predicament. Just like Sharpshot, I would do anything to keep my Anchor out of harm’s way. It was the excuse I gave myself for coming to the surface after all, separating us for what might have been the rest of my life.

For that reason, I did not rub Sharpshot’s plea in his face. I may hate him for his cocky, adolescent nature, but I like to think I know when something goes too far. Whether I’m good at it… others can be the judge of that.

“So, I assume you know what that danger is, then?” I asked.

“Y-you’re not gon–” Sharpshot stopped himself, immediately hiding his surprise. He coughed into his hoof, put on a more stoic expression, and then nodded. “Possibly, if what Willow is saying is true. Granted she isn’t the type to lie but as far as I know nopony was there to say it.”

One of my ears flicked. “What Willow says is… you mean you two weren’t just having an argument when we left you in the mines last night?”

“Well, that did happen but it wasn’t everything.” His mouth hung open after those words, then closed. With a surprise show of conflict and confusion in his eyes, he forced himself to keep looking at me, his magic holding his own chin upwards to do so. “She said somepony spoke the trigger word to her last night, when she was down there by herself. She showed me what it caused: three dead craven, torn apart and bent in ways that aren’t just unnatural, but nearly impossible.”

My breath got caught in my throat for a moment. Willow’s… trigger word? That made no sense; nopony was down there with her till she had talked with her husband. There wasn’t a way she could have heard anypony say ‘bury’, not unless…

I closed my eyes, ears flattening. Suddenly, the alicorn’s sorrowful look this morning made a lot more sense.

“You think the Goddess is responsible,” I said. Not asked, just stated, because it seemed like a fact that was undeniable given the circumstances.

Sharpshot’s response came via gritted teeth, and even further signs of conflict on his face. One came to recognize it easily enough, especially a soldier with as much time on the surface as I had. How many pegasi had worn a similar expression upon first viewing the world below? How many more had asked if it was really beyond saving? I’m not sure, but I most certainly knew what came next.

First, they would seek either inwardly or otherwise how they feel about it. A mental battle would play out between what they had been told, and what they now see. If they are aware of the claims some soldiers-turned-Dashites made, perhaps they would also wonder if it was saveable. For that entire first foray on nearly lifeless earth, an Enclave’s view would lock swords with the Dashites, both sides challenged from one thing or another until, finally, either side became a victor.

If my former self, the Rhapsody who DH had accidentally killed, was anything to show by it, the Enclave had won for me. That was thanks to two incidents: a horrible experience with a grenade that became a joke to my former brothers and sisters, and the splayed corpse of a pony the same age as myself. Whether they were mare or stallion was impossible to tell, with how gutted they were. It doesn’t matter; no pony sees that mistreatment of life, that amount of blood and gore, and is the same by the end of it.

It was only during my time on the surface that I realized the pony who had done this unforgivable act had likely been changed in a far too similar way. Perhaps they had obtained a similar horrible upbringing to Gemini. Again, doesn’t matter, given they are most likely dead or so broken beyond repair that whoever they were before might as well be another pony altogether.

Thankfully, Sharpshot had not yet reached that point. He was still asking himself if what I had said might possibly be true. The piece of him who had so long ago spat at my dead self’s view on ignorance now fighting to not walk that path himself. When I saw conflict turn to pain, the corner of his lips curled downard and his eyes looking in the same direction, I felt comfortable saying that uncomfortable truth had won.

“I’m sorry Sharpshot,” I replied. I sat down and placed a hoof around his withers. “I’d like to help of course, but if it is really the Goddess then–”

“It can’t be her.”

I had to double take at his response, paying attention to his body. He was shivering somehow, despite the desert heat, eyes unfocused as pupils and irises fidgeted uncomfortably. Sharpshot did his best to hide all those little things behind a faux seriousness, muzzle void of expression and his brow furrowed. Would have fooled somepony who hadn’t lived that same horrible experience that he has.

My belief had been wrong; ignorance was winning.

“It can’t be her. How could it be?” He questioned. It wasn’t directed at me, but rather at himself. “Craven are known to make pony-like sounds. Perhaps her brain got fooled into thinking it was said by one of them. It’s better than… better than….”

He nodded, and looked me dead in the eyes. Perhaps he thought he was fooling me, with the decisiveness he was forcing on himself. A few days ago it might have, but not so much anymore. I was familiar with that look, one of a pony desperately clinging to the one good thing they have in their life. One that showed they wanted every reason to believe it wasn’t being taken away or destroyed right in front of them, left broken beyond recognition where no one can find it.

Credit given where it is due, however, he wasn’t throwing a fit. Despite being a forever teenager he was showing more maturity about his ignorance than I was. Made the dead me look incompetent as fuck.

“Sharpshot, what grounds do we have to say it’s not the Goddess?” I asked him rhetorically. He opened his muzzle to give a defiant answer, but I spoke again before he was able to. “That day we met, Willow Wisp told me something. The blue that is crawling its way up her body, according to her it is consuming the white in her coat. You said the reason she isn’t part of the hivemind is because of the killing joke that made her throat burn, right?”

He didn’t immediately respond, instead turning away and snarling in fear. There was no way he didn’t see where I was going with this. If he refused to answer, or tried to all out avoid it while still giving one, I wouldn’t be too surprised. I’d probably do the exact same, in similar circumstances.

“It did something to her saliva that makes it hurt like mad, scratching and choking her. She was coughing up blood for a long time, and against scientific reason her body has been unable to adapt to it; couldn't really go much of anywhere without being in agony,” he muttered quietly. There was apprehension in his tone, a show that he wanted to talk about this as little as he wanted to consider my own theory. “It’s counteracting the I.M.P. in her body too. That’s something medical related that we never looked too heavily into, but we know it is stubborn as a mule. Must still think it's winning.”

“I see.” I took a deep breath in, the ghoul glaring at me all the while. “The Cloud Nine is what you are using as a painkiller, I remember that. It’s also the reason her coat has become more blue. Like the Goddess’ own” A frown formed on my face, my lips peeled back ever so slightly to show my teeth. “If she is very subtly connected to the Goddess now, doesn’t that mean they knew her trigger?”

There was a flash of defeat on Sharpshot’s face, though it only stayed around for a second or two before being replaced by either anger or denial. He shoved me, pushing himself away from me more than it moved me. Then, with wild eye movement that signaled confusion and conflict, he started to pace. Murmurs too quiet for my ears to catch left his mouth. They were rapid, hushed, laced with terror in a way I had only seen once out of him.

That, of course, being his fight with that one unexplainably fluffy earth pony, when the Dealer took over his opponent's shadow.

“I’m sorry.”

Sharpshot’s attention snapped back to me. His mouth moved, less like it was making words and more akin to a subtle vibration. By Celestia he wanted to talk, he wanted to say something, but the words refused him.

“I want to save her, and I’m asking for your help with that,” he said. “Therefore, we need to consider options that we are able to do something about. Options where the only option isn’t just ki… kil….” He hung his head, closed his eyes, and exhaled sharply. “We don’t have enough time to continue Willow’s discussion, we still need to talk about your card.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sharpshot, she is your wife and my friend and I want to mak–”

“Your card was Death!”

His words were harsh, harsher than he intended if the wince was anything to go by. I knew it was a diversion – a means to shield himself from the worst and most likely scenario – one easily overcome by continuing to talk. Anypony could have gotten over it, anypony but me apparently. All I needed was a mention of death, and my mind went back to that night.

Meeting with Vigil, learning that I was dead, finding out the culprit is the first spirit I’d ever met on the surface.

“Not literal death. The card implies great change for the pony it divines,” Sharpshot explained. “Considering everything happening to you already, I guess this card should have been expected. Still, knowing who did the reading, I’d keep an eye out.”

Even with his assurance that this Death card didn’t refer to actual death, the coincidence was too up front to keep a straight face. I knew he was trying to warn me about something, even if neither of us knew exactly what it was, but it felt impossible to take it seriously. How could I after meeting the literal incarnation of death hours earlier?

So, knowing full well it would make me look crazy, I laughed at my circumstances. It was only slightly forced, the humor born less from a good joke and instead at my own expense. Everything about my existence felt so unbelievable fucked that something like ‘a great change’ felt like a forgone conclusion. It would be easier to state what had remained the same about me, if anything of the old Rhapsody remained at all.

So I laughed. I laughed until my horrible reality felt less like a joke, and I was reminded of how far I had fallen. Sharpshot watched in horror as I went from laughing to borderline crying. The two emotions mixed together, and for the second time in the span of twenty four hours I felt tears building in my eyes and crawling down my face. It was quiet, not as ugly as it had been with Vigil, but I knew what it felt like. A piece of me almost couldn’t believe what I was doing.

I was crying, freely, without the need for Anchor to be there. The actual act felt horrible to go through, but it gave me a feeling more wonderful than flying.

“Rha– soldier mare?” Sharpshot said. I hadn’t noticed I was looking down at the sand until he spoke, and found the ghoul right in front of my face as my eyes locked on his own. “Are you okay?”

“No. No I’m not,” I answered, choked up from my impromptu weeping. I briefly considered wiping the tear trails off my face, but a large piece of me didn’t want to. “I feel horrible, yet somehow the best I’ve ever felt in years. The best I’ve felt… since Clear was born.”

He blinked. “Clear?”

“One of my foals. My youngest child, and a real piece of trouble,” I explained. I think the waterworks were starting again, just by mentioning them. “She wasn’t the reason I was crying though. I was just… my life feels so fucked!”

“Oh,” Sharpshot said. He looked downwards, chuckling. “Trust me, I know the feeling. I’m guessing the tarot card alone didn’t bring this about.”

“Something along those lines,” I replied, giving a slow nod as I did. “I met somecreature last night, as you know. They were strange, powerful, kind but also cruel. A griffon, bigger than Gold with a coat black as the night I met her in.”

I closed my eyes, and focused on their image. Their smile, their touch, the chastising and comforting. It was hard to figure out if the correct facial expression was a smile or frown, but the former found its way first. With the image fully formed, I opened my eyes.

“Their name was Vigil, and they told me they were Death.”

Sharpshot brought a hoof to his muzzle, rubbing the underside of his chin with its toe. The right side of his brow was still raised, the rest of his face wearing a look that I don’t have a name for. He didn’t immediately call me crazy, meaning he was being unusually kind or thinking of exactly how to rip the band-aid off and approach my growing insanity.

“So, one of them is a griffin,” he muttered instead. I tilted my head, something he seemed to expect. “The Dealer has mentioned… I think he called them ‘acquaintances’. Things like him, similar, powerful and connected to this Infinite that Joy worshiped. You said Vigil was… kind?”

I nodded. “When she wanted to be, and was not reminding me about how my father nearly let me starve to death, or how I left my foals with no knowledge of where I am now. Every single time she comforted me, even after…,” a sigh found its way out of my body, my smile turning more sorrowful, “even after telling me that I was, as far as she and the Infinite knows, dead.”

Ears twitched, interest piqued. “What?”

“Dead Hooves killed me back in the theater,” I explained, sitting down. His jaw had dropped so far that I feared it might somehow detach from his head. “Since she died before the cannibal curse had completely consumed her, it survived by becoming a part of her. When she first cast her memory spell on me, hoping to see if I was really related to her, she accidentally ate my soul.”

…

“So, the pony standing in front of me,” Sharpshot said. His voice had gone monotone, horn alight. “Is it Dead Hooves, the spirit that cursed her, or something else?”

Another sigh left my lips. “If it was the Gluttonous One talking to you, don’t you think I would have attacked you all by now?”

His hornlight died, and something thumped against the sand. A look to my left showed me he had removed a wooden plank from one of the nearby houses, or at least that was my guess. Neither the abomination or Flash Fire were within my line of sight, so he wasn’t about to kill me.

“Who are you then?” He asked.

“If Vigil is to be believed, still mostly Rhapsody,” I replied, sitting down. “The rest of me is still me… somehow. To be honest this situation is as confusing to me as it is to you.”

“I, uh, I see.” His flank followed my own in hitting the sandy ground below. A hoof went to his temple, rubbing it as he groaned. “I see what you mean. Don’t think you can get more fucked than that.”

“Celestia, I hope not.” It was my turn to groan, my muzzle tilted towards the sky in the process. “I’ve had enough unwanted surprises for one lifetime.”

“Wish I could tell you that we’re done with them, but we both know that isn’t true,” Sharpshot replied. I glared at him, the ghoul letting out a sheepish laugh as he did. “I mean, outside of life just generally having tons of change in it, we still have the Dealer’s card to consider.”

I wanted nothing more than to bury my head in the sand. The reminder of the card and what it meant, while appreciated in some aspects, was also greatly agonizing. Had I not experienced enough change in my life, even if only for a small while? I thought so, but the wasteland itself felt different.

How different was unknown to me, and I was far too afraid to ask the world. If I asked, I’m sure it would answer. Yet that likely meant witnessing something similar to those frozen ghosts I had seen in the sandstorm.

“I’m guessing there is no stopping my card, is there?” I asked Sharpshot.

“Probably not. Change is such a constant in life that I couldn’t tell you what the Dealer was inferring in this instance,” Sharpshot answered. He smiled at me, and let out another small chuckle. “Better to know your shit outta luck than to have it come out of nowhere, right?”

“I… I guess. Thanks, Sharpshot.”

“No problem, Rhapsody.”

…

“Wait.” I looked at him. I think my stun expression had made him a little nervous, because his smile fell away. “You said it. You actually said it.”

One side of his brow raised, and his head tilted. “Said what?”

“You know, my na–” I stopped myself before I had finished, both hooves covering my mouth. I turned away. “Nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing, Rhaps.”

“No, no, I was wrong. You said nothing.”

“Yeah, and I’m a pretty fucking princess. What did I say?”

Sharpshot leaned in, glaring at me with all the fury of Celestia’s sun. I knew that looking directly at him was a bad idea, so I looked off into the distance. The plan was simple: focus on the blowing wind and endless plain of sand and rock that laid before us. If I did, he might let it go.

…

…

I dared to glance back. He was still staring.

“We should get back to the others before Gold gets suspicious,” I said, hastily getting to my hooves and speed-trotting my way back towards the others.

As I made my way around the abandoned house he had dragged me behind for this chat, I heard two words leave Sharpshot’s mouth. Two words that made me snort from the sheer annoyance he had laced them with.

“Fucking pegasi.”

After finishing off the granola Sharpshot had given me earlier and packing everything up, we left Nowhere. Back to the endless dunes of sand and rock, with the sun beating down on us all. We would head back through Nowhere on our way back from this megaspell test site, just to be completely sure the craven hadn’t somehow gotten out. If they did, Day Glow had an extra bit of paperwork back in Underside that I’d rather he didn’t have to deal with.

I lagged behind everycreature else, something I was more than fine with. Sometimes Sharpshot would look back at me, either because he had heard something he didn’t like out of Day Glow or Gold, or was still wondering exactly what he said. He had mostly dropped it though, leaving me in peace as we traveled. With none of the living to interact with, I had time to turn to business with the dead.

More specifically, I had a unicorn I needed to comfort.

“DH? Are you there?” I called out. I stayed quiet enough where I hopefully wouldn’t draw the attention of anypony ahead of me. “Dead Hooves?”

Nothing. I knew she was around, the pieces of her inside me somehow told me that, but I couldn’t see her.

“Dead Hooves?”

“I… don’t think she wants to talk right now.”

Looking straight down, I saw Stardust walking at my side. I gawked at the sight of the filly, or more specifically that fact she had followed us out here into the desert. She was looking up at me with a worried expression, though I’m pretty sure it wasn’t meant for me. After all, it wasn’t just me who had woken her up from whatever nightmare she had been stuck in.

Still, that a filly as young as she had been was going with us was shocking. I checked her chest, just to make sure she didn’t have the same tether that linked me to DH. It wasn’t there, which meant she had come with us of her own free will. That was more than a little worrying, given the events of last night.

“Stardust, why did you follow us?” I asked, a tinge of worry for the ghost making its way into my voice. “I’d figured you would want to stay in Underside.”

“I thought about it, but you can actually talk to me,” Stardust replied. Her ears went flat, hooves dragging through the sand instead of trotting. “Being around you makes me a little more comfortable. Until I find mom, wherever she is, I want to stick by you.”

“So you didn’t find her in Underside.”

The ghost filly shook her head. “I know that I’m dead, and they can’t really do anything about it if I walk in, but those Shattered Moon ponies didn’t want me in that building.”

In other words, if she was there, Stardust didn’t completely check. Her and DH walking into SM’s F.O.B. with me wasn’t something I had originally considered, and a piece of me now felt a bit dumb for overlooking it. If either of them had walked in with me, I became a threat to the organization’s anonymity. Knowing at least one of them had been smart enough to not put my life at jeopardy was nice. Dead Hooves, however…

If my soul was now Dead Hooves’ soul, and that thread was what connected her to me. It now made sense why she couldn’t get that far away from me. If we considered that fact, and how she couldn’t be blindfolded due to her current status as fully deceased, then I was a danger to a piece of what made the Shattered Moon what they were. After a silent prayer that Day Glow never realized the full danger of bringing me inside a F.O.B., I turned my attention back to Stardust.

“Did you go inside the mine with us last night?” I asked.

She shook her head again. “It was really dark and scary.”

“Good. There are things down there a foal like you doesn’t need to see,” I replied, smiling. My words put a hint of fear into the ghost filly’s eyes; the point had been thoroughly made. “Anyways, you were saying Dead Hooves didn’t want to talk.”

“Yeah. She’s had this gloomy look on her all day,” Stardust explained. “I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but she just told me to stay away. She said she wasn’t safe to be around.”

I looked behind us, though in truth it was about as interesting as the world to my front. Hoofprints faded not long after we left them, the constant slow gusts covering the indents with more sand. Though my eyes did not see them, my heart knew that where I looked was the mare in question. She was there, sulking, moving so slowly that she was practically being dragged along by myself. I knew what the mare was like, and this wasn’t her.

“Dead Hooves, listen,” I said. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t showing herself, the rest of the world was quiet enough where she didn’t have a choice but to listen to me. “Vigil told me what you did, and what it means. They explained how you didn’t mean it, how what has happened to me is an accident. I’m still trying to stomach the fact that I’m dead, just like you and Stardust.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Stardust freeze in place. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to make me aware that she hadn’t been around for anything that happened the night prior.

“If I had learned about this all, back when we first met, I’m certain my reaction would probably be horrible. That’s probably what you’re expecting now, in fact. Can’t deny that there might be some horrible catharsis in screaming at you for killing me, but you’re a victim just as much as I am. Vigil made that perfectly clear.”

…

“What… are you trying to say?”

Dead Hooves’ form appeared near moments after those words were said, exactly where my eyes had been focused on. There was a slight distortion in her spirit, like a lesser version to how we had met Stardust. Her very form seemed ready to break loose, muzzle moving in ways not possible. Unlike the young filly, however, something forced her to stay together; something banned her from going into that state of complete, endless despair.

There were pieces of her spirit giving off this dark, all consuming glow. That’s the only real way I can describe them, and even that somehow fits. It was acting like a bandage, keeping the distortion from overtaking her form. Any time some part of her started to fray or break, it expanded and repaired her, doing its best to keep her as normal as possible.

This was the cannibal spirit that had possessed her in life, and had led her to accidentally kill me all these years later. It's only reason for preserving her ghost was to preserve itself, the mare still its host even after death. In a way, it was also now part of myself, even if that hunger for pony flesh was absent.

“You’re right, you should hate me,” DH said. I slowed my pace so I was no longer dragging her along, only to find she was moving so slowly that we might as well have been stationary. “I only… I only wanted to know who you are, and my own curiosity got you killed. Anypony else would hate me if I had done the same to them.” Where her head had once been bent unnaturally low, she brought it up to look me in the eyes. “Go on then. Stop trying to be nice and just yell at me. I know you can do it.”

“That’s not…,” my ability to respond was briefly taken away as I winced at her words. She was right, I was more than capable of getting really, really angry at ponies. She had been on the receiving end of an outburst from me, after all, “Dead Hooves, did your parents ever scream at you?”

“No, but I don’t understand what that–”

“Have they ever hit you, threatened you, called you an accident or left you with nothing to eat for days on end?”

“No. No! Why the heck are you mentioning that right now?”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, and looked back ahead of us. “I ask because I know what it does to a pony. I’m a shining example of it, having lived that Tartarus for most of my foalhood. None of it works, DH, it only harms both the pony on the receiving end as well as yourself. I have done my best to be the opposite of that, at least when it concerns foals.

“For you, however, and everypony else down here? I’ve been a bitch, no other way to really put it. I’ve done everything in my power to make you all hate and despise me, because instead of being a decent pony I decided to act like my father. I was hurting myself, and I’m still paying the price given that Sharpshot, despite all his talk of trust, is still willing to kill me.” I shook my head, and looked back at her with a smile. “So despite how much I despise what happened to me, and that it would probably feel good to get mad at you? I’m not going to do it. I’m not subjecting you to my worst aspects more than I already have.”

We had both stopped moving completely by that point, staring at each other. Once again I found some slight humor in how fucked and wild my situation was. I must have visibly shown that humor as well, because DH let loose her own half-hearted giggle. Before long we were both laughing like madmares, with Stardust watching us both in confusion at how we were acting.

“You know, I agree with what you said to Sharpshot earlier. Our lives are so fucked,” she said. While the tone came off as joking, I was more than aware she didn’t actually find it funny. “Afterlife works better, I guess. Doesn’t matter if one of us happened to actually keep her body.”

“Yeah, and that is going to take some getting used to,” I replied. My ears bent backwards just the tiniest bit, my humorous expression falling away to one of concern. “Are you okay, Dead Hooves?”

“I think we both know the answer to that question, and I think we both know that it won’t be changing anytime soon,” DH answered, one of her forehooves running through her mane. “Lets just agree that I shouldn’t touch anypony with my magic. You’re fine, I think, but I don’t want to know if I can do this to more ponies.” She then turned to Stardust, her eyes refusing to look at the filly on their own. “Sorry about this morning, Star.”

“I’m just happy to see you talking with ponies again,” Stardust replied, ears unfolding slightly. “You made me worried.”

DH winced, and then turned to me. “We should… probably catch up with the others.”

My brow shot up, and my attention turned back in the direction of Sharpshot and the others. They hadn’t even noticed how I had stopped moving, likely due to the oppressive heat the desert had beat down on us. I motioned for DH and Stardust to follow me, and I quickly broke up into a gallop in order to catch up to the others. Not so close where they would notice my sudden haste, but close enough where they wouldn’t question anything.