Loyalty

Chapter 1: The Boy and The Girl

In any symphony the second movement is usually the slowest and—sometimes—the saddest; the symphony of life is the exception to that rule. The life of the fragile human race was always doomed to be of one movement, slow and solemn by its very nature. For hundreds of years, it simply took without giving, and for a brief moment of hope began to see that. This fleeting instance was never repeated, and the world fell into decay.

No one was ever able to explain how the world got the way it did. War had crippled infrastructure, but that bounced back every time. Famine decimated the population, leading to less global hunger and poverty. Disease was eradicated in most parts of the world; the immune maladies had even been wiped out decades ago.

Somewhere along the way, the cameras turned against the people they were supposed to protect. The World Government decided to use them to spy on everyone in an attempt to control the populace. Sure, revolts had sprung up, but they had always been crushed. Even the organized rebellions were doomed from the start; people got used to oppression after a time, and resistance truly became futile. The Daps patrolled the streets every moment of every day, watching for dissenters and general rule-breakers. It was the life all had consented to upon their birth.

This world is what the boy was born into. He had no name—or if he did, none could tell him. Even his parents, long since confined to their home, had no knowledge of the boy’s name. All they knew was that he was their son and therefore they loved him unconditionally. He knew the world outside was dangerous.

Every day was dark and dreary, the lingering stench of death ever in the air. The streets were always watched by gangs laying waste to the innocent. The defiled corpses of thousands of girls could be seen from one’s home. The local high school was no longer a beacon of education, but instead a den for the lowest dregs of society (that is, if such a low point existed any longer). Weapons were almost a requirement for anyone able to lift more than 6kg to carry with them at all times; self-defense was a must. Every day the sun rose behind a veil of clouds, direct light never reaching the ground but as a substitute for precipitation; the rain was almost continuous, and people always welcomed a reprieve. The outside world was a condemned wasteland, and the few who stayed in the city had long since found ways to slowly destroy themselves. It was a life none deserved, but the one they were given. A life of struggle and anguish, often overshadowed by the suffering and violence of daily life.

There was no life the boy would prefer to this.

Senate Law 13-B, Signed into effect 14.05.2243: By decree of the President of this Nation, all citizens aged thirteen through nineteen shall enter their homes no later than 1800 on weekdays and 1930 on weekends. The punishment for violation of this law shall be permanent relocation.

The clock struck six times, signaling 1800. Over the loudspeakers, a deep female voice announced, It is now 1800. All citizens under 19 must be in the walls of their homes.

As the Paps began their rounds, a shadow could be seen running down an alley, trying desperately to avoid their gaze.

The boy ran along the streets that led to his home. He had walked this route countless times, but it still felt dangerous every time. Ever since the power went off in most of the city there had been gangs taking what little was left for themselves, and nothing was left for the rest. This struggle had led to widespread crime and fear among those who wished to remain anonymous.

Anonymity. What a strange word for this day and age when none were truly alone. The government watched the movements of everyone and everything, from the smallest infant to the oldest man wasting away in his living room. The cameras were everywhere, and it was from these that people tried to stay hidden. If only it worked.

The boy rushed into a decrepit home on the corner, hoping the Daps had missed him. Once inside, he closed the windows, blacked them, and turned on the hall lamps. A bright light flooded the area in which he was standing, bringing into focus the details of the room.

Pictures dotted the room, all containing the same theme: the boy and his family. A rug hanging from the wall depicted a man standing alone on a cliff, overlooking a beautiful canyon covered in trees. The walls showed a sunset drenching the city skyline in its pink aura. This was a sight the boy had never seen; the sunsets had long since disappeared behind the dome, and most of the buildings were mere rubble now.

The boy approached the door to his parents’ room. He had been sleeping with them for years now, but they would not expect him home so early. It was, after all, only 1830. As he nudged the door open, he could hear a soft female voice.

“Hi, sweetie,” it said as always. “How was your day?”

“It was fine. The Daps came to school today. They rounded up some kids again.”

“Well, your father and I are just happy that you’re safe. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“That’s right,” said a deep male voice.

The boy smiled. His parents had always cared so much, and gave him everything he could ever want. It was because of them that he lived in one of the few civilian houses with power in the entire city. Due to their efforts, he had fresh food and clean clothes every day.

“I’m happy to be home, too. Well, I’m going to get something to eat, and then I’ll be in for bed by 2100, alright?”

“Absolutely, darling. Take your time.”

Turning around, the boy left the door open and went to the kitchen. He found some bread and cheese and decided on a sandwich for dinner. While making the sandwich, he saw rain begin to fall. As he sat down to eat, he could only think of one thing, the same thought that entered his mind every night.

My life is perfect.

Where am I?

The girl wandered through the streets of a strange city. It was very unlike the small towns back in her home: there was this strange stone that covered the dirt, choking the grass. This stone was cold beneath her skin, let alone the awkward position in which she stood.

This world was very strange indeed.

Of course, should anyone look her way, what they would see was a naked girl with multi-colored hair, no older than 19, wandering the streets alone after curfew. And they did look her way; it is only natural to find different things, and she was as different as they come.

The girl felt eyes on her, judging her and deciding whether she was safe to approach. She was unaware of who was watching her, of course, but there was no reason she could find to be scared.

This must be what it felt like for Zecora. Once they talk to me, they’ll see that I’m cool...right?

Rain began falling, and soon became a torrent. Seeking shelter, the girl darted down an alley, not seeing the shadows that followed her, watching her every move. Suddenly, a powerful hand grabbed her neck and slammed her against a wall. The girl heard a sinister voice in her ear.

“Hey, gorgeous. Where’s a pretty young thing like you going this time of night?”

The girl found herself unable to speak. There were no words for the terror she was feeling at this moment.

“Oh, are you stupid or something? You got a name?”

Again, no words came out of the girl’s mouth. Why was this strange thing holding her against a wall and asking her name?

“Look,” the voice yelled. “I’m getting a little impatient here! Either you tell me your name, or I blow your brains out!!”

Though she didn’t know what that last part meant, it still brought enough terror to the girl’s heart to force tears out of her eyes. The sight of them seemed to bring joy to the voice, which, accompanied by others, burst into laughter.

“Girl must be tarded or something!”

“C’mon, Jake. Take yours and give us ours.”

“Yeah, man!”

One of the voices suddenly made a clicking sound, and a small flame appeared out of nowhere. How did he produce fire so easily? Was he a unicorn?

As if in response, a face came into focus. It was a grizzled, ugly face, like a hairless monkey. The only coat it seemed to sport was on the top of its head, and the girl finally saw that she was surrounded by at least four of these things. They were all male…what were they?

The male nearest the girl spoke with the same voice that had tormented her at first.

“Hey sweetie. I’m sorry for frightening you just now. It’s just that I have a very short temper, and I like knowing peoples’ names. If you tell me yours, I promise no harm will come to you.”

People? What kind of a word was that? The girl struggled to find her voice, but finally managed to choke out a few words.

“M-My name is…Rai-Rainbow Dash.”

The creature’s eyes opened wide, staring at her as if she had three heads. Before long, the group burst into hysterics, crying from the laughter escaping their wide mouths. Eventually, the leader (at least, he appeared to be their leader) calmed down enough to face the girl.

“That’s a funny name, girl. Were your parents, like, hippies or something?”

This infuriated the girl. “No! My parents are great people. They don’t let anypony onto the Princess’ personal pegasi guard!!”

“Uh, what?”

“You know, Princess Celestia? Do you even know who I am?”

The strange creature stepped back, whispering to his nearest comrade, before turning back to her.

“So I guess you’re not stupid, but you are crazy. Just how old are you…Rainbow?”

This question bewildered the girl. She looked at them with puzzled magenta eyes.

“I’m 19.”

The leader inhaled, shaking his head at the same time.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You know the rules, little girl. ‘All citizens under the age of 19 shall be in their homes by 1800 or face relocation.’ I guess we’ll have to relocate you now, won’t we?”

The girl called Rainbow Dash was terrified. She had woken up in a black field not an hour previously with no coat, tail, cutie mark, or wings. The world to which she had woken was dark, with clouds covering the Sun and all of its light. Confused, she had stood up tentatively and walked towards the remains of what appeared to be a city made of steel. There were eyes watching her—of this she was sure—but she thought there was no reason to be afraid. After all, nothing could harm her in a dream, right?

Slowly, the girl brought her eyes up to meet her captors.

“Wh-What’s relocation?”

The men’s smiles grew even wider as they moved in, the words “District Armed Police” coming into focus on their jackets.

Television sets only ever ran reruns of ancient shows from an era long since passed. The boy had learned to cope with this, and had gained an appreciation for shows such as The Big Bang Theory, Dr. Who, House, and Dexter’s Laboratory. He found enjoyment in all of them, and they gave him a way to waste away the days.

Above all of these, he had gained an interest in an old show that appeared designed for younger girls: My Little Pony. He had passed over it several times until he stopped there during a song. That one song had pulled him in, as it reminded him of ‘The Music Man,’ which stood out among the boy’s favorite movies of all time. Since that day two years ago, he had become a fan of the show, and it became his personal escape from the woes of everyday life. He never fell in love with the ponies—he was lucky to remember the characters’ names for more than a day at a time—but he watched this program more than any other.

It was in this activity that he found himself after dinner, curled up on the couch watching My Little Pony, when he heard screaming outside. This may be normal for other parts of town—parts the boy visited nearly every day—but his own neighborhood almost never saw any real violence. Naturally, he turned off the television, put down his glass of Diet Pepsi, and rushed to the door. Just as he reached for the handle, a furious knocking came from the other side. Cautiously, the boy turned the knob and opened the door.

On the other side of the square frame stood a slight girl, only two or three years older than the boy himself, with wide magenta eyes and rainbow-colored hair. The hair glistened with sweat and rainwater, while the eyes stared at him, fearful and vacant. The girl’s mouth hung limp, slightly open. Beneath the rain and his own breathing, the boy heard one word emit from the girl’s mouth.

“Pl-Please.”

The girl collapsed into the boy’s arms. The last things she saw were a pair of deep blue eyes looking at her and a perplexed face.