The Church of the Half Moon

Sand.

Breakfast was served as a stew to every capsule in the big old building, known as checkpoint 14. The windows were large, covered in a sheer fabric, pinned neatly in rows folded over each other. The color was dull, like everything about check point 14. It was incredibly hot, but a welcome change to the night's dry cold. The rebirth of light entered the building that way, as lanterns were inlaid like jewels on the walls. Pixie could hear secrets, from the other side of the curtain, a father answering their child’s blunder of questions. A naughty conversation, he was definitely not old enough to listen to from the counter side, but he also knew better than to ease the job. Pixie was at the small table beside the bed Papa was sitting up on. The boy was writing as steadily as he could, each letter hard and scratched in the paper. Papa had his hooves busy too, sewing little flowers in his coat. Every once and awhile he'd move his bangs aside to see his son jotting away.

“Are you drawing, Pixie?”

“nope, a song-poem,”

“A poem… song? May I have a look?”

Pixie swiveled in his chair, to dramatically point the pen straight to the heavens, “it's not done,”

Papa’s brows raised, “oh-… Okay,” he bit down on his tongue to stifle a laugh, “what's it about?”

“...it's just pretty words,” it wasn't completely wrong,

“Like what,”

“Lace… umm periwinkle? Glimmering,”

“Those are pretty words,”

“...Yeah, they are…” Pixie tapped on the table, “Papa, do you know more pretty words?”

“Hmm, I might, I'll tell you if you eat,”

The foal turned to the cold bowl of stew beside him. If he wasn't avoiding the smell he would have no clue that it was there. The spoon stayed shiny and pristine, contrasting the scarfed down bowl set at the other side of the table.
“I'm not hungry.”

“You aren't?”

Pixie shook his head, “I'm not,”

“It'll be a long walk until dinner, please try to eat something,”

Pixie pushed the bowl away almost knocking it to the floor, “I’m okay”

His stomach growled, yet he hated the taste when it burned up his throat. He pressed his tongue on the back of his teeth as a force of habit. Almost losing himself to his thoughts before he eyes Papa’s frown. Pixie’s breathing hitched, feeling like a flightless bird caught in a power line. Yet this was Papa, he had to remind himself. The foal pushed himself out of the stool and sat next to the stallion, pressing his face into his father's arm. The big work horse treated the child like glass, as he patted the other on the head. It was easy to make Papa happy, this would have worked under any other circumstances, but there was no smile to be seen on him.

“Is there a reason you're not eating?” his voice was hushed,

Pixie chewed over his words, it was weird for a boy to be concerned about his features, is it not? “I'm just not hungry,”

“Eat.”

Pixie stayed silent.

“Pixie,”

“Please don't make me again,”

“You can't survive on pretty words, Pixie,”

“If I don't think about it… it's okay! I keep my mind busy with other stuff and bam! No hu-”

“Pixie Dust,” Papa said, scarier this time, “you're a growing boy, you need food for your body, to be big and strong,”

Big… Pixie took away his affection from his father, stomping over to the bowl. He just about knocked it off the table in his haste, and a part of him wanted to. It would be hard to find time to… take off the weight, without lurking eyes. Using the spoon he dug into the brown liquid. He stirred a carrot as if it was being eaten by the waves at sea. Silver raised a brow at Pixie, for his son to huff and shove the spoonful in his mouth. It was plain, like the walls and floor, but was it incredible. His stomach growled for more. Taking the spoon out of his mouth he sat it on the lip of the bowl, watching the disturbed water settle.

“Do you like it?” Papa asked,

“I do,”

There was more Papa wanted from Pixie… That Pixie could tell from the strange expression from his father, in those old lost eyes. It didn't stop the fact Papa didn't let Pixie free until half the bowl was eaten. Mama was right, though. It became harder to eat like he used to, almost as if his body was forcefully stopping himself from consuming too much. He didn't understand it, but he felt the pride that came with it. Like he was winning.

Little time passed before the group ventured off into the old world. There was less chattering among the younger foals, some rode in the empty wagons, trying to rub away the sleepy from their eyes. Pixie couldn't slip away when they walked, Papa kept a close eye on him. There was a bit of nervousness to him, that was there before as he eyes the horizon, through that dark mask of his. Honestly, now that Pixie truly surveyed the others, he wasn't the only pony searching for something. The further they were from home the higher the adults' ears perked up. Not that there was much of anything out here, besides sand. So much sand his hooves sank into the ground, weighing down his fur. Papa offered to carry him through the deep sand but Pixie shook his head, he was still lingering on the morning’s conversation.

Before the sun burned the world, this was a valley. Covered in blades of grass, with blooms of poppy flowers. This land was sacred, the sun had a harder time reaching them here, it's why the world decided to rebirth the moon here. Whatever that means. Picpuck danced around the question, on how this land was exactly sacred. “Because the sun couldn't reach the land,” she would answer, but if you asked why the sun couldn't touch the land, she would answer, “Because the land was sacred.” Maybe she didn't know? Or she did, and she wasn't willing to give the details for her own reasons. That mare was smart, so Pixie knew there was always more to her words than what she gave. A lot of adults did that, some better at it than others. Other than that there was nothing here, besides two large iron boxes, the group was slowly approaching.

Attention was drawn to it, as Picpuck led the group to stand a good distance away. The children watched closely.

“As you know we have multiple duties here, you too will be given means to protect yourself, and more importantly protect the moon herself,” announced Picpuck,

Picpuck looked over to a masked stallion, nodding as he went forward. He had on him a tool, the same type that Silver had, that wasn't his pickaxe. The ones that go pop, pop, pop, as it tears into glass at the target range. The stallion walked towards the box, placing a pink crystal on top of it. Pixie could tell this was a real unicorn as his horn under the porcelain mask lit up. He floated the Crystal up and seemingly let go of it in the air. Then, the crystal cracked, exploding into itself then dissipating like flames of embers. Transparent pink like roots stretched out, and seemingly disappeared. Only then did the unicorn levitate the first box open.

Disfigured and disjointed, the creature pulled itself out of the box. Eyes wide, the ones not used to seeing the creature froze, but Pixie knew what this was from Jack's stories… a Hellhound. It was bug-like, its spine was on the outside of its body. Skin thin yet dark stretched tightly against its ribs as if it was starved. Veins glowed green, thick in its body, its eyes bloodshot and red, with yellow sickly looking pupils. Its maw held hundreds of teeth, some small, others like tusks growing though parts of its lips. The creature growled, towering over the unicorn as its claws dug in the dirt, spit rolling out in foam.

“These are the remains of the sun chaos, a mockery of the moon’s creation,” Picpuck's voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade, “and this is how you take care of it,”

The unicorn took the tool and held it beside him, then as quick as he pressed the trigger the tool started to glow. The gold etching traveled in waves of sparkles, up to the nozzle letting out a loud bang! A beam came from the tool, right into the creature's skull. It's head imploded in on itself, burning like a shooting star, at such force it was flung. Suddenly stopped by an invisible shield, pulsing pink where the creature made contact with it.

“Now any pony noticed anything?” She chipped,

No pony answered. Pixie was too busy finding solace in Papa’s sleeve, as he saw the poor creature be shot in the face… yet he muttered, “... Its head exploded…”

Picpuck noticed, “Speak up Pixie Dust,”

Pixie took a deep breath, “It- the Hellhound was hit in the head?”

“Mhm! Shot,” she corrected, pondering for a second on how he knew what it was called, but she carried on, “You know why?”

She was met again with silence.

“Hmm, well let's just show you,” she turned, giving the stallion a wave.

The second box was open, and a similar creature dug its way out. BANG! BANG! Two shots pierced its chest leaving chasms in its body, as flesh sizzled under heat. The Hellhound ran towards, opened its craw and struck the unicorn, flinging him like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum about its doll. His body hit the invisible bubble. Blood splattered against it, as the pink pulsed around, highlighting the floating color.

Silence…

…

Horrid screams came from the children. Pixie began to sob, as the stallion wouldn't move, his body still as this… monster, started to make its way towards him. Papa looked to be about to say something, as he brushed his hoof against the shaking foal’s body. This only made Pixie tense up more, wrapping his hooves tighter against his arm.

Then, magic veins retraced the path they rooted themselves in before. Now they stretched out to go further, almost enough to touch the group. Where the invisible wall was, was now made visible by a pink light. Suddenly, everything sucked in on itself like a dying white dwarf. Then the hard sound of a clear crystal hitting the metal of the box.

The Hellhound was stunned, not knowing what had happened, the sudden light flash banging the creature. Only for the unicorn to get up, taking the tool and aiming it at the creature, then shooting its head off, much like the other who still laid dead in the dirt.

“That's why,” Picpick motioned, “Did we scare you?”

Relief, as the unicorn made his way back relatively unscathed, besides the tears in the fabric he wore, and the stains of his blood on his clothes. Yet, where you could see his fur there wasn't a single tear in his skin. The unicorn gave Picpuck the Crystal, that was about half the size of a bottle of whiskey, and as thick as a loaf of bread. She motioned to the stallion who took another one, this time it was as pink as the first crystal was before it imploded.

“These are Charms, They have one use, anymore they would be too big to be convenient to carry around. They are enchanted by our Selene herself, from Clear Quartz, a protection stone,

“Hence why they produce a field of protection. It traps you, yes, but when dealing with Hell hounds you must take precautions, as you saw, he was hit, and subsequently, was left immobilized. He would have needed a doctor, but because of this Charm, it healed his wounds, stunned the creature, and allowed him the precious time to strike a counter attack

“You can't use this on other ponies,”

A hoof raised, “Why, Ma’am?”

Picpuck was more than willing to answer, “Simply because it will heal the enemy. The healing spell it creates helps all pony kinds, even outsiders. You won't need to fight outsiders too much, most are simply looking to pass. One of your duties will be to accompany those who do. The ones you would, they are too scared to set hoof here, and on the very rare occasion you do, they will be out numbered.

“But with a beast like that, they work perfectly. You won't need them most of the time, but it's a good way to add a safety net,

“Now let's carry on!”

Picpuck smiled, as she continued to walk. A towel was dropped on the unicorn's back to cover the holes in where his flesh would be exposed. Pixie watched intensively. Mostly at everyone's reactions. The adult didn't seem all too phased, but there was a slight limp in the Unicorn’s walk… not much else happened as they made their way to check point 13. Only the ruined buildings in a sea of never ending sand.