Fallout Equestria: Taking Life By The Horns

by Pokonic

Rating: teen
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Original Character, King Sombra, Adventure, Iron Will, Crystal Ponies
Length: 203445

A minotaur goes on a journey of self-discovery, adventure, and snark in the irradiated north. Mostly snark.

Ever Watchful was a typical young bull, eager to see more of the world outside his isolated home. At least, more of it besides the bleak wastelands that surrounded him every day. However, when actions beyond his control sends him in the direction of the city of Tauronto, the other last great city, he must question everything he has assumed about the world and himself as he carves out a new life.

Also, what the hell is this "Crystal Empire" place, anyway?

Published 2013-01-06 06:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-11 22:48:59 UTC

Confusion is Expected

One does not simply sneak out past curfew in the compound. This was not so much a suggestion as a general fact of life, even if there wasn't a real reason for the curfew or that anyone really liked the idea of one.

Besides the effort needed to sneak out without waking someone up, you need to bypass the guards. While it might seem that the latter would be harder, it was actually the former that kept most from attempting a flight in the night. The set of stairs that make up the walkways used to ascend and descend were narrow and had little room for error in a step, and as it was minotaurs do not have a center of gravity so much as a sense of direction. As such, it takes genuine skill to walk the steps without effort. A misstep could cause one to fall, and that would be very bad for anyone high up enough, and the sound of hooves on dried clay is unmistakable when you are used to it.

Thankfully, my kin are heavy sleepers, even more so after a hard day working, so I did not really worry about waking them up, as I considered myself light of hoof. If Brass’s bumbling did not wake them up anyway, I had faith that my efforts at sneaking out would not cause them to wake up. Even better, I lived on the third floor out of ten, so it made for a quick trip down to the ground. Such was the benefit of being a day-guard.

It still was a effort, of course. It was hard to get a feel for where the steps where, even more so in the darkness. I looked below me and scowled. None of the upper floors had lighting, but there were lights jury-rigged all along the walls of the first layer of housing, the area reserved for the hunters and valued members of the commune. Wizened old bulls who could not make it up the stairs, springers close to calving, senior guards,and other such useful individuals. Nearly everyone wanted a place in the compound close to the well, the eating area, and the air conditioner.

But of course, that did not matter, nor did my pangs for a climate-controlled room. With a little ice-box with cold milk and cheese, any time one wished....

I nearly cried out as my hoof hits the wall, and I barely grip onto the walls lowly placed safety grip, made for calves and those too old to walk without assistance. The little brass bar nailed into the wall gives a forbidding creak before I manage to heave my body upright back on the steps, and I count myself lucky that it did not break supporting my weight. Then I felt the new curve the bar sported with my thumb, and I sigh and start walking again. While it was a good thing I would not have to explain that to anyone, I pitied the calves. Punishments were swift, and thanks to the stockpile of healing potions, breaking bones were perfectly excusable for the sake of punishments. Never the hands themselves, of course, to many little bones, but fingers were fair game.

The journey to the lower levels was quick after that little incident, with no mishaps involving deep thought and chipped hooves. I would have considered my descent stealthy, if it were not for the force of me hitting the ground causing the closest lantern-holder to swing slightly. I gave the ground a quick sweeping look: still as brown as ever, with each of the work areas unmanned and tidy. I did not have be as careful on the ground, considering the minotaurs on the ground floor, who had all the best stuff that I should have earned by now, had somehow soundproofed there rooms for dubious uses. Frankly, the only thing I worried about was the pens and the Elder.

The Elder did not live in the block of houses as did everyone else. Rather, he lived in a building that I suspected was a pre-war barn, a large red structure with two huge wooden doors and the housing for the commune’s power generator, school, and hospital. Directly outside it was the great brass gong used to announce the official start of the day,and the little round hovering robot that was the main source of far-off news, the Spritebot. And of course, his dwellings doors were facing the rocky cliffs the rest of us lived on. But that was not my main concern.

It was the goats and sheep.

To be exact, the incredibly sensitive hearing both species had.

I said nothing as I slowly walked past the stone tables of the eating area and past the Elder’s dwelling. This was bad, because while both species were were stupid, they had better hearing than minotaurs, woke easily, and bleated when frightened. My chances at making past them were slim, but I already made it this far.

So I walked, with all the care I could muster into my steps, past the pen.

I waited until I was a few minutes away from the pen before I congratulated myself. I assumed I had made it home free. Well, at least half-way. The walls were a few minutes of careful walking away, and then I could make my way to the guards little party without incident.

But then, something bumped into my hips. Hard.

I, for the the record, did not make any noise, too surprised to do so.

The mare I let inside earlier let out the frightened squeak that woke up the cursed goats, however.

Oh, yes, we got away before the Elder grumbled out of his house-cum-storage area and calmed down the blasted things, presumably promising to bring the topic up with the guards the next day. However, that was not my main issue, seeing as the pony known as Blueberry Cream was sneaking about in the camp. During the few minutes of silence between us, in our position on the ground right on the sloping exterior of the dirt walls, I decided to examine her body.

No, not like that. Ponies have little picture’s on their bums, right?

The short little pony had a light blue coat of fur, with a azure-colored mane with almost purplish highlights. On a second inspection, it really did seem like her legs were rather short, even shorter than the other ponies that I had seen before. From the way they were built, I would guess that they were less than a foot long, each.

While it was hard to see in the light her cuti-something was a....orb of some sort. Possibly a blueberry, whatever that was, it was not enough light to tell and I would think that ponies would be reserved about other’s figuring out the meanings of their prophetic arse-pictures.

In order to get my mind off the topic of pony butts and what cruel divinity made them the way they are, I decided to speak first with traditional minotaurian tact.

“Why the hells did you bump into me!”

She gave me a glare. “Your coat is pitch black. I was moving in the dark, which is pitch black.”

The mare pressed on after I snorted in response. “ And I was following the group of armed minotaurs leaving the camp. I would assume you were following them, too?”

I stopped fuming and gave the little mare a confused glance,“Yes, yes I was. But why are you sneaking around in the first place?

She just glared at me. Again. I couldn't help but notice that her eyes stood out in the dark. “I don’t like it when armed anything’s wander around when a visitor comes to town.”

Ah, she was scared. Understandable, considering she was alone in a place filled with things that were each wider than she was tall. I suppose, as a guard, it was a duty of mine to relieve strangers of their worries about a place. The other was to stab them if they were asking too many questions, but I never had to do that, so I suppressed that thought.

“Don’t worry about it, they are not gathering over you. They are just relaxing. They found some liquor, that's all.”

She visibly relaxed at that. Normally, I would have been happy, but then I saw something holstered to her side by a simple sling. Even in the half-light, I remembered that blunt shape clearly: I once saw it on a pony who was guarding one of the few caravans that would come through our lands, and when they stayed the night the pony bragged he found it in a abandoned pony military complex. When one of the old cows did not think he was telling the truth, he messed around with the cursed thing and pointed it at a wall. When he was finished, it had carved a deep gash into the solid rock.

It was a laser pistol, painted blue with a silver firing mechanism.

I was amazed at the ponies rashness. “Why are carrying a lethal weapon with you while following a group of armed guards! Do you want to get killed around here?”

She just looked at me. It clicked. Nice job making her feel welcome indeed.

After seeing my half-dazed expression, she just grinned. Widely. I shuddered slightly. Tiny equines should not have such big mouths.

“Look here. This is not a lethal weapon. This is a method of self-defence. Now, the question is, do I have to defend myself right now?”she sang sweetly.

My mouth hung open. The chub-blob from the morning just turned into, well, a pragmatic wastelander. I was dumbfounded. Are all ponies crazy!

I hardly had time to comprehend her one-eighty in personality before I noticed something that made me further frightened. Something blue and wavy.

The bringer of lazery death was hovering next to her now, enveloped in a blue glow. I looked at her questioningly, and I was shocked to see that, between a few seconds of looking in the other direction, she suddenly became a sported a smirk and a horn.

"But...how...why....that..."

Oh come on!

“This isn’t fair. I was the one that helped you earlier.” I said, whimpering slightly as the pistol aimed itself at me in mid-air before I could blink. It was out of grabbing distance, too.

The mare just looked at me and smiled, her freaky pony eyes seemingly sparkling in the half-light. Ohh, she was all smiles and chub and blue, but under that thick, fuzzy exterior lurked a heart of pure evil. “Oh, yes, Ever Watchful. Yes, yes it is. Little ladies like me need all they can get there hooves on to survive in the wasteland. Spell’s and energy weapons are the least of your issues right now, I assure you.”

I just looked at the blue mare. My brain was still playing catch-up. This...equine is mocking me in some manner. Probably. She just looked at my probably dazed look and grinned wider. Somehow.

“Now, this is going to be simple.”

I did nothing, because I swore the silvery firing mechanism moved slightly. Her small smile never let up as she continued to speak, some amount of arrogance entering her voice.

“You are going to take ten steps away from me. You are then going to briskly walk to the hunters lodge, and I will follow you. If you make a move, big boy, I will be forced to defend myself. If you say anything to your friends, I will be forced to use lethal force to protect myself. Are we clear, Ever Watchful? You do anything, you die.”

I carefully nod my head, trying not to panic. Oh, fuck.

I was still half-surprised she knew about the hunting lodge, but considering that she has the ability to cast illusions means that anything I could guess about her was probably carefully crafted on her part. Frankly, if she turned out to be one of those “Alicorn” things that occasionally turned up on the radio every so often, I would not be surprised. However, I mostly walked and kept walking, because I could swear I could feel the pistol pointed at my back and she was trotting right behind me

Neverless, the lodge was not that long of a trip away from the main compound, but it was hidden well enough. It was a large crevice in the hills some brilliant minotaur converted into a secondary armory and the closest thing to a fortress the commune had, complete with a little pool of fresh water created by a little nifty gem-thing that the Elder supposedly brought with him when the compound was just being settled. Anyway, the disguise hardly helped keep it hidden, because the whole place stunk.

Because, as doubling as the hunters little playhouse, it also was the butchery area. Tallow and leather and all that jazz were made by the hunters themselves, and I half suspected that the only reason the water-maker was not in the central compound was so that the hunters did not stink the rest of us to death. Dead Rad-hogs and Geckos did not smell nice raw, especially considering the offal.

But all that’s just details, compared to the primary goals of the day: attempting to enjoy some beer while being in mortal danger.

I managed to make it to the open entrance of the lodge quickly,even away from the only light source in a good days travel, as it was a bright spot in the otherwise dark night. Seems like they were abandoning all attempts at there typical stealth, so whatever was going on in there was probably at full swing. After getting within a good sprint’s distance away from the illuminated pit in the hill I took a glance at Blueberry, and was rather startled that I could clearly see her eyes even in the near-total darkness.

Were they....yes, apparently, they were glowing, and were now just giving me a piercing glare that promised death. It might have been just me, but she must be under some vision depth-warping spell, considering I could not tell just how far she was away from me just by looking at the seemingly floating green orbs of creepy that was eyeballing me.

I just turned around back to the entrance, suppressed a shudder, closed my eyes, and walked into the light.

I opened my eyes when I felt the fire, and I wished I didn’t. Whatever party was going on had ended quite a while ago, if the sleeping forms of boozed-up minotaur lying on the floor meant anything. I saw Brass using her mechanical hammer as a makeshift pillow, while several of the other visiting guards I knew where pretty much hammered metaphorically. Two of them, Steel Shaft and Total Awareness, was in a fascinating position on the ground that I noted for the purpose of a later conversation piece, while several of the hunters had fallen asleep standing up, knee’s half-bent but still kept standing thanks to the shear weight of the metal guard armor.

In any other occasion, I would have laughed at the site of the fifteen most intimidating individuals in the commune all completely hammered. Unfortunately, the head of the hunters was leaning on one of the pillars supporting the whole structure. A massive, scarred-covered black-coated bull with a set of cobbled-together armor bristling with sharp spikes that probably served no real use and a twisted helm that had to be modified to fit his oversized, iron-tipped horns in it, he was the communes longest serving chief hunter, and was a local hero for finding a young sleeping dragon in the hills when he was young and braining it himself. He was also looking straight into my eyes, and if it were not for the fact that minotaurs have no magic whatsoever, my quivering soul.

Bulls Strength, the Elders right hand and closest confidant, was visibly upset. Still completely awake and glaring at me with stormy grey eyes, he grumbled the words I knew were coming.

“I am disappointed in you, son.”

Ranger Danger

It said something about how shallow my life is that the worst thing that could happen to me was not my father treating me like crap or being forced to leave the only place I have ever lived in, but to know that a little blue pony would be traveling with me.

Steel Ranger? That explains a lot, actually. She was probably too crazy for those crazies to stand. It also said something about Discord and his ability to grant wishes. Why did we worship him, again? I heard something about a “twisted form” and “mythical origins”, but you could say the same for griffons, and arguably ponies. Freaky little things with too-large heads and stubby limbs. How do they hold things without thumbs, anyway?

But I was getting ahead of myself, as one other in the room could see.

The Elder snapped me out of my internal conversation, literally in this case. The sound of fingers sliding against each other broke me out of my half-daze, and caused me to take a glance at the too-happy pony off to my side.

“Now, Blueberry and I have an agreement, in which getting you to the relative safety of Tauronto is just one part of.”

Oh, joy, there was a plan. What could possibly cause it to go wrong?

Oh, wait, it just started talking.

“The first part, Watchful, is simple. We need to get to Bearmont, a town near the city proper, and start up the local radio tower. This should be easy enough, because there’s nothing between it and here except for some hills.”

I nodded my head. This might not be so bad after all.

“The next part is also very simple. When we get inside the city, I need to talk with a member of a group known as the Watchers.”

The who? They sound nice.

“The next part will be...harder. Tauronto is known for its internal factions, and I need to speak to the leader of one of them in the Caladonian National Tower. He does not know I am coming.”

Into the fire, why don’t you?! Now’s the time to tell me that the place is a deathtrap. Oh joy. Wait, is that grey old bull actually smiling at.... curse everything alive!

“And finally, I need to go to the Crystal Empire.”

It sounded....colorful. And sharp, for that matter.

Seeing, my expression, she nodded sympathetically.

“Don’t worry, your going to learn about it soon enough. This is not my first trip north, either, so I can show you the ropes in the city. We can talk about it on our trip there, and it’s a week away, so we have plenty of time.”

Yeah, and about the fact you threatened my life, are apparently a Steel Ranger, and did I mention the “threatening my life” part? Oh no, little mare, this was not over.

In an attempt to get my mind off the horror that was going to be the next few weeks, I turned to the Elder.

“Sir, I must ask, what is the benefit for me or you in helping...Blueberry?”

Frowning slightly, he replied in a tone that was softer than the one he was using before.

“Watchful, I am disappointed that your thoughts are revolving around what you can gain out of the situation at hand. I would have you know that the reactivation of the radio broadcast is reward enough, and there is much to be gained in helping the largest settlement in the region.”

He took a glance at Blueberry, who he just gave a tiny, knowing smile.

“Also, I gave Blueberry all the information she would need to access the areas she wishes to explore in exchange for a moderate amount of the salvage and caps she brings with her. Your job, in essence, is to guard her and keep her alive as she travels in the city, and to make sure she holds her end of the bargen, and in return you get a safe place to live.”

Ah, so it’s a daring quest to a deathtrap in order to get fancy salvage and deal with sociopaths, and I get...to be an unpaid bodyguard until told otherwise. Oh, what fun.

“And as such, I suggest that you two leave before the hunters arrive. Your father has no mercy, Watchful, and I have a reputation to uphold.”

Blueberry gave a little surprised gasp at that. Oh, now she puts two and two together. How much was she told, anyway! Never less, I suppose parting words were in order with the bull who took this much time and effort to let me survive, even after a failure like what happened earlier.

“Elder, I must thank you.”

The old bull just gave one of the golden smiles he was known for, partly because of his teeth being made of gold but also because of the wisdom that was said to be contained behind them. But it was mostly the gold.

“No need to thank me, young one. However,”

His tone actually grew grim, something that frightened me slightly.

“Remember to keep your friends close in the wasteland, and work with what you have.”

Oh. Well, that was...something. Sounded nice.

I just nodded, as Blueberry was loading a familiar grey bag full of spare scrap near the door. Ignoring the obvious question, I gave a respectful bow to the Elder, who just gave a little chuckle. After a few moments at staring at Blueberry scavenge the poor bull to poverty, she was ready to go, baggage packed to near bursting and somehow resting on her back without tipping over.

And so, after a few more moments of chatter, waving goodbye, and other such things, I began the rest of my life as an exile as I stepped outside the barn.

Which was shorter than I thought it would be, because I blacked out after something heavy slammed into the back of my head.

It took a while to realize I was awake, and not being tormented by tiny blue imps in the icy depths of Tartarus, freezing winds and all. Unfortunately, I realized that Tartarus might have been preferable to the wasteland. Less clouds.

The sky looks even more depressing when you have nothing else to look at. Normally, during the day, you could lie to yourself and say it looks decent, but looking at it directly you know for a fact it does not look good no matter you put it.

Just from the sounds and movements around me, I was on a...cart? Wagon? Something large, flat, and wooden and I was bound to it by a set of, after carefully attempting to move them, very heavy binds on each limb. Surrounding me was what I knew to be the stacked supplies the Elder gave out for the trip, and going by the soft groaning sounds coming from what might be the front of the cart, the baggage the Elder sent with me was here as well.

I almost felt sorry for the brat, but she helped me get kicked out of my home and threatened me with a laser pistol. She can survive a few more hours of trotting away, and I do need to rest.

Crap. Does it make me a bad person to not feel anything about being exiled from the only home I had ever known? Should I be feeling...something? Regret? Shame?

Then again, what is there for me? No one really talks to each other unless there telling each other something. Well, no, the cows do talk to each other all the time and the sheep and goats would talk the day away unless you whip them into work, but the bulls never made friends, per say. I think that’s the word. I mean, yes, of course one made friends in the compound, but not ‘friend’ friends. Then again, I suppose in hindsight, young bulls were always taught differently than the cows. Even when we were young, I suppose, the bulls were separated into smaller social groups than the cows, and there was always a bigger pressure to make yourself seem better than your peers for bulls.

Perhaps that’s why I liked Brass. She could always carry a conversation, and made the first years of guarding go by faster. Copper could, too, but there were always jokes about how he liked watching the bulls work out.

Of course, the punishment for a proven relationship along that lines is castration, but I buried that deeper into my mind. Let’s focus on the positive, now.

Does anyone in the wasteland know how to make pork chops? Or cheese, for that matter?

I wonder how Steel Rangers grow up. The last time I heard the name ‘Fillydelphia’, it was about a pony and some griffons getting an army together and cleaning out the place of feral ghouls and tainted creatures. If she came from Filly, then there would probably not be much of a chapter left for her to come back too.

Speaking of Rangers, I haven’t heard of unicorns in there numbers, just regular ponies, so she might be lying about that, too. Then again, she could use magic, and was probably too small to fit in power armor....what did she call herself, a ‘Senior Scribe’? She was probably just a magic specialist, or some-

-why is the cart floating up? Also, why was everything light purple?

“Wakey wakey, Ever Watchful. Stop admiring the sky and get off the cart, it’s your turn.” Oh, the dreaded sing-song, the sign of a upset female. Known by all species and races, it forshadows doom for all.

I turned to my right, and then my left, noticing the distinct lack of binds. She can make magical chains, too? Oh, this is just perfect. Why does she need me again? For amusement?

I leaned forward, and slowly hauled myself off the cart. Luckily, the blue brat only had it hovering a foot off the ground, or else I might have hurt myself. Grumbling, I say the first thing on my mind.

“What the hell did you do to me, little mare!”

...It sounded less cliché in my head.

Blueberry just grinned as she jumped on the cart. “Wasn’t me that time. The old one and I agreed that if you did not go with the plan quick enough, he would knock you out and get you on the cart. Basically, it was to make sure that you would not try and get away from me after we left.”

That old bastard.

“Also, I put a sleeping spell on you. Have any good dreams the past three days?” the little mare said. chipper and cheerful.

Are you kidding me! Is my life a cosmic game, played by some horrible monsters who only want to see me suffer!

…..Maybe the zebras were right. I, on that somber note, got into position and started to pull on the two wooden poles that served as the closest things to handles on the cart. How did the little mare pull this! Unicorns are not supposed to be this powerful!

But then again, every journey begins with one step, like the one’s I started to take regardless of the pain on my shoulders. After a few minutes of quietly working up a rhythm with the carts movements, Blueberry spoke up.

“Anyway, I guess it’s as good as ever to tell you that we are an hour away from Bearmont, and that we are probably going to have to go through some resistance.”

I blinked. “Resistance?”

The little mare sighed. “Well, we are probably going to have to change routes, really.”

Now I was getting annoyed. “What for? I thought you had this all planned out?”

She grew quiet. Now I was getting really annoyed.

“Because the NCA are there.”

“The who?” To be fair, I had heard the name, but only in passing.

She stopped walking, and lowered her head a little.

“They are well armed ponies, nothing more.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“They are at war.”

“With what?”

She grew even quieter, to the point I could hardly hear her over the sound of the cart crunching the frozen ground under it's wheels.

“Minotaurs and Steel Rangers.”

Oh, well, fuck this place sooo hard.

You Probably Did Not See This Coming

Frankly, I considered the pros and cons of goring the little blue betrayer right there. Discord knew I could use a break. She had not even apologized for putting me to sleep! Really! What do they teach in Steel Ranger bunkers! No wonder no one likes them, even the most harmless-looking ones are prepared to lie, steal, and cheat there way into a better position in life!

But I kept that to myself, and just grumbled and began to pull the cart in earnest. Blueberry was standing on a pile of scrap and just looked around us, as if we needed a guard. Hah! The road we were using did not even have vermin, let alone actual threat's to our lives! Sure, we both could tell we were getting close to a city, albeit I only knew that from the increasing amount of billboards and other such half-frozen relics of the past dotting the sides of the street, but this road was isolated and barren of anything of worth.

The fact it was cold never really bothered me. Just living in the north tends to give you certain resilience, according to the occasional awed trader who passed by the commune, and frankly I always thought ponies were exaggerating when it came to bundling up for a trip “up north.” Apparently, down south, which is mostly everywhere else of note in the world, the cloud cover is thicker, yet the wastelands are hotter. I could hardly think about how crazy you had to be to live down there.

But that’s not what bothered me at moment. What did bother me, however, was the fact that Blueberry was not cold, or did not show it. For someone who claimed to be from Fillydelphia, she was rather fine with what some ponies called “tundra”, and while she has said she has come up here before, I know to take anything the little mare says with a fist-sized lump of salt.

“Stop!” yelled Blueberry.

I, feeling betrayed by my own two legs, do as I am commanded. What could possibly get the little mare upset? There’s nothing of any importance around here! It’s all grey ground and weedy concrete! The only thing in sight besides a few irregular rocks is a one story rusted-over building off to the side that looks....remarkably...protected?

Blueberry let out a little laugh.“I thought your name was Ever Watchful. Come on; let’s see what’s in this bad boy.”

How did I miss the only building in an hour’s travel with boarded windows! I am a guard, guarding anything or not!

Blueberry just jumped roughly on the ground, and with a little huff levitated her personal small grey bag onto her back and started trotting to the old junk-heap. I had little choice but to follow her, considering I noticed a whip in one of the supply bags and it was probably not for recreational use. Also, duty and a wish to not remain lost in the wilderness, but mostly out of fear.

You know, this probably wasn't not healthy, fearing for my safety, but so far she has done nothing to suggest she would not put a laser in my back after all this was done.

Going by the sign that depicted a motorized carriage filled with happy ponies in it, it was probably a store or gas station of some sort. A store that was probably still well-stocked, if the boards on the windows were any indication. Discord knows how little this backwater of a road would be used.

After passing a nest of concrete pillars and broken plastic tubes, Blueberry just watched as I knock the door in with a kick. Actually, it was more like a light tap, considering it was far weaker than it looked and my leg went right through it. I questioned if it even safe to go in, going by how destabilized the building looked.

Then I looked to my side, planning on confiding with Blueberry, and saw that she had already gone inside it.

If she sprang a trap, I had no obligation to help her. Neverless, I followed her inside, and quickly regretted that course of action.

Floors are not supposed to be squishy, after all. The rotten wood creaked under my weight, and it was worryingly yielding under my hooves.

"That’s it, baby steps from here on out. Can't taking the chance that there is a basement under all this junk." I muttered to myself.

Despite my fears, Blueberry was illuminating the moldy interior of the horrid building with a surprisingly strong purple-blue light, letting the both of us see every little bit of the rotten place we found ourselves in. The roof was a yellowed mess, and there was signs of water damage everywhere. The floors near the freezers had some unholy yellow-grey slime coming out of it, and the floors themselves were surprisingly damp and sponge-like for presumably being tile at one time. I tried to avoid looking at anything else after seeing the produce section; or rather the putrid remains of it. No flies, surprisingly.

“Huh, surprised this place is this fresh. This must have been sealed tight a few weeks ago, wonder if something broke it or it just died over time. Pity. ” she said, sounding curious about the room rather than disgusted.

Of course, her first thought was about the fact it was a preserved stink-pit.

“Well, is there anything you want, little pony? See anything you want to eat?” I said mockingly.

She seemed to gave the question some thought, to my slight disgust, holding a hoof to her chin.

“Go check near the register, I am going to see if there’s anything in the back rooms.”

I looked behind me. I had not even noticed the counter off to the side of the place, considering everything coated in wet filth. It was a shoddy affair, frankly, and it was hardly worth walking over to it to check.

That train of thought stopped with the force of a charging buffalo when I heard something slam against metal in the back rooms, followed by something screaming.

When I charged into the surprisingly clean concrete room, I was simply surprised that it was as cold as it was. It was surprisingly nice, really, as most of the produce must have been frostbitten long ago and left only a mild stench of mold.
However, my attention was held by the horror in the freezer that Blueberry was standing near that was leaned against the wall.

It was a pony at one point, probably. It was tall, no doubt, and looked like it was covered in sparse combat armor, if combat armor was melded with its wearer. Its bluish flesh, mostly free of hair, was riddled with wormy veins and large open pits, and what little hair it had was a greasy green color. The head was a sin against nature, all sores and rotten holes, and its eyes were off-white colored and bulging out of it's sockets, either from frost or cataracts. Its bony legs, while mostly covered with the seemingly natural metal parts, had some bone exposed at points. I winced as I noticed the abscess-filled hooves the poor pony had. At least it was dead; nothing should have to live like that.

Then it clicked.

It was a cyberpony. It was a dead cyberpony. No wonder it looked so odd, that armor was a part of it! At worst, Blueberry would just want to ‘salvage’ the thing.

Then it gave a little rasping gasp for air, like the one that made me enter the room in the first place.

I think I felt my heart stop for a moment. Blueberry just, to my continually building horror, giggled at my expense.

“Oh, stop overreacting, she’s clearly not going to hurt you.”

“It’s a monster!” I said, somewhat irrationally.

Blueberry barely batted a eye at my outburst “Yes, yes it is. It’s also a monster that we are very lucky to find. Guard the door, unless you want to help me get what I want out of it.”

The blunt way she said those words oozed harshness. I was surprised, confused, and most of all, scared. Scared about the fact I was not sure which one of the mares in the room was the monster.

So, rather than standing my ground, I walked near the door and crossed my arms when I got in front of it in a posture that probably suggested that I was displeased with the situation.

Blueberry just grinned at me, and then at the slowly breathing abomination at her feet. With surprising grace, she levitated the bag on her back and began examining the poor creature. From this distance, I could clearly see it’s nearly empty chest cavity rise and fall ever so slightly, while its mouth just ever so slightly moved in sync. Its blank grey eyes started at nothing, and I secretly hoped it was brain-dead.

Then Blueberry smashed into its putrid flank with a forehoof, causing it to scream like stuck radhog. Well, so much for acting back at the commune, this little blue bitch was a natural sociopath!

“Talk, scrap!” she half-yelled at the ghoul-like creature at her feet.

I felt a sinking feeling take over me; Blueberry clearly saw the creature more ‘cyber’ than a ‘pony’. Everyone knew the stories about Rangers and technology.

The ‘scrap’ just kept gibbering and weakly flailing in futile agony, it’s flank now sporting a hoof-sized spot where it’s thin skin sloughed under Blueberries touch, exposing both steel and grey meat. The mare just grimaced and wiped her rot-covered hoof on the concrete in an effort to get it off.

“It’s a pity; you don’t have anything on you that could make this easier.” she groaned.

In response, the cyberpony just mewled in fright. Blueberry just sighed, and her horn began glowing. I was not sure what happened next, really, but involved a burst of purple light and the cyberpony suddenly issuing a bloodcurdling scream.

I gave an accusing finger at Blueberry. “You’re nothing better than a raider!”

She said nothing, but the cyberpony actually screamed out the first intelligible thing it has said during the whole processes.

“K-kill mmeee!”

Well, that’s unfortunate, as that seemed to be the last thing on Blueberry’s mind, going by her growing smile.

“Oh, good, I am glad I do not have to shock you further out of your daze.”

The cyberpony whimpered.

“I-I cannot live. My body…won’t….”

Blueberry, however, just looked as gleeful as I was shocked at her words. “I will take care of you, don’t worry. Just after a few questions.”

The mare could barely move her neck to nod, but she managed it. Going by the way she was sprawled out, I could only think that if she could move, she would have by now. Actually, looking at her legs, she had almost no muscles….

It dawned to me that her fate, had we not come in here, would have been one of unimaginable horror. Cybernetics last a long time.

Blueberry was all business. “First, could you tell me about why you are here?”

The cybermare, for that was what she truly was behind the horror that was her body, quivered slightly.

“ I was in the area, traveling up to Tauronto, but I was searching for supplies and found this store. There was a magical seal that was on it, and everything was fresh. I was happy, until I accidently locked myself in here. I…I have been in here for a month now, probably. I feel horrible, and I….I can’t see. I put myself in lockdown mode…but then you…made me lucid again. All my bodies’ emergency systems have been used up, and….”

Blueberry rolled her eyes. “I can tell that. Do you work for Horse? All the cyberponies I know of in Caldonia work for him.”

I was confused. That was another word I had heard before but didn't know. Caldonia. I thought we were in Equestria?

The mare, in a seeming attempt to get on our (IE:Blueberry’s) good side, gave her best attempt at a nod and smile. It still looked pathetic and sad, considering she could barely move her neck from it’s flopped-over position on her shoulders.

Blueberry gave the pathetic creature a soft little smile, and then smashed into the prone mare’s head with a savage slam with her hoof! As the cyberpony began screaming once again, the insane blue mare that I was forced to be on the same side as began wiping the white ooze that used to be a eye off on the ground.

“Liar! You work for House! Horse died at the same time he was supposed to! I want consistency from a Hizai!” the little mare barked at the screaming pony twice her size.

The who and the what?

The putrid pony gave a little wail. “Monsters! I am captured by monsters!”

Blueberry spoke in a calming tone, one that made me feel all the more angrier at her. “There are no monster's here, miss…”

“Not telling.” the cyberpony responded quickly.

Blueberry was not surprised at the mare’s words like I was. They still held some defiance, despite the situation she was in.

I was then alerted to the grey bag next to Blueberry become alight with purple, and then shifted slightly. To my distinct lack of surprise, little miss sociopath brought out some metal objects of varying purposes, but I did spot a saw and a screwdriver out of them. Some of them had a lot of sharp spiky bits. Some had none at all.

“I suppose that, if you are not going to tell me anything, you are worth only the spare of your parts. Even if they are Cerberus trash, they look like they have been modified enough to be of some use.”

The situation slowly sank into the cybermare, and she began to cry. Or at least attempted to.

“Watchful, you can go out and guard the cart if you don’t want to see this.”

She did not have to speak twice, I was halfway outside before she opened her mouth, cursing my inability to act all the while.

I heard the cybermare screaming before I was out the door, accompanied by the sound of something distinctly industrial revving up.

Blueberry was wiping the sweat off her brow when she finally began to walk over to too me. I wanted to sleep, but it was still day outside and I still heard the screaming mare in my head.

However, Blueberry, despite butchering a pony for the last hour or so, just looked tired as she began unloading her slightly bigger bag of things on the cart.

“Whew, that took longer than I thought it was going to be. But hey, Watchful, we got some cybernetics! The girl’s legs were really nice, custom too! Bio-magical weave, sound-dampening matrix, grade-b weight absorber systems, she had the best scout-class military cybernetics I have seen! I could-“

She noticed my less-then enthused glare, and grumbled.

“Okay, fine. Start pulling. We lost some time, but by the time we arrive to Braymont it will be night, which will be good.”

I was very much prepared to brutalize her right then and there, but then she slapped a hoof over her head and laughed like she forgot to leave something on back at the store.

“Oh gosh, we forgot about the desk! Watchful, could you go check them before we leave?”

I was dumbfounded. This was the same mare who just butchered another pony for the sake of…hoarding electronics, actually, knowing her. And now she was giggling like a bull skipping through a field of pussy willows.

No idea what that actually means, but Copper said it occasionally. I had a hunch, but it was probably worse than it’s actually meaning. Hopefully.

Refusing to talk to her, I half-stomped into the crumbling structure, apparently to look at a dead terminal.

Naturally, I walked right into the back room. I took a moment to vomit after I did so.

The cybermare was a ruin. Blueberry, whatever she did, did not waste any time removing what she wanted.Her legs were gone, and most of the flesh that was clinging to them was lying in a filthy grey-red pile near her. The surprisingly small amount of blood in the room was pooled around the mare, and it looked sluggish and black on the grey concrete. Most of her body, besides her legs, was untouched, sans a few new holes in her midsection which revealed some strange, shiny plastic-like material.

However, to my horror, she was still breathing, ever so slightly.

I actually took careful measures to conceal my presence, moving as softly as I could to her, but the mare, blind and quivering, somehow knew that I was there.

“Wh-why? Why are you here again?”

I did not know myself.

I tried to sound reasonable.“To help you.”

She stopped shaking at the sound of my voice, as if startled.

“You’re a minotaur!” she accused.

I groaned. How did she know?

“Yes, yes I am.”

Her voice hardened. “Make it quick, monster!”

Well, that just knocked her down my list of things to feel sorry for. Slightly.

Never less, I was shocked. “But…why?”

“Kill me, beast!” the mostly dead thing wailed at me.

I was indigent at that.

“I am no killer!”

“All minotaurs are killers!” the mare countered, defiantly.

I was mortified. “No they are not!”

“My mother and my little brother were killed by your kind!” she yelled, screamed really.

I understood, now. The plain-dwellers. She must be from the west. “I…I am not part of that tribe. I am sorry for there actions. They are akin to most of my kind to...your people's raiders, or the griffon's and their Talons. ”

That got her attention. She was silent for several moments, only opening her mouth to take gasping breaths for air. Finally, after a few moments of jerky attempts to move her head, she slowly opened her mouth to speak.

“I-if you are truly...different….pick me up and look at my neck.”

Well, it seemed simple enough. Abrupt change in personality, but a nice one.

As gently as I could, I raised the mares head off the wall and began to look over it, and there was a raised patch of skin at the base of it, a healthy pink with green hairs covering it, not larger than the width of my thumb.

“Do you see it?” she said, almost smugly.

“Yes.” I said.

“Pull it.”

Skeptical, I did, putting a finger on each side and squeezing it. What happened both fascinated and disgusted me. Slowly but surely, accompanied by organic sucking noise, I pulled out a small red-capped white tube that was seemingly inserted lengthwise into the mare’s spine, leaving a pink-ridged hole down her neck. I was confused and strangely impressed at the freakish lengths ponies would go to alter themselves.

“Gaaaahh, that was…that..." the pony flailed her limbs slightly, seemingly pained by the extraction of the object from her neck.

Slightly upset with myself, I said the only thing I could reasonably say at the time.

“I am sorry. For what happened to you.”

If she had eyelids, she would have blinked, but she just stared at me with one blind eye.

“Heh...your not a monster after all."

I blinked.

She coughed slightly.

"Monsters do not apologize for there actions, unlike your…..”

“I am not her friend.” I said flatly.

She had the audacity to smile.

I was beginning to tear up, and I think she knew that.

“Now...that's a message in a bottle. If you want…bring it to a pony who knows Mr. House personally. There not hard to miss. They are all cyber ponies, like me.”

I blinked, and pulled on one of the ends of the ‘bottle’ and was surprised to find a little piece of paper, that, to my displeasure, was written in some sort of pseudo pony-script.

Which I could not read.

GЯЗЭИ

ШДTCHЗЯS ИФЯTH.

GHДST/ PHДЯФ/ SILЗИT SДMЗ?

ДЯISЗ.

PЯЗPДЯЭ ЯЗДVЭЯS.

SФMЬЯЗД SLДVЗS ДШДКЗ.

FLЭЭ.

“Oh, it’s in some silly code, so no use trying to read it.” chuckled the blind paraplegic former-cyberpony.

I groaned. “Oh, your cheeky for a dead pony, aren’t you, miss…”

“My name is Emerald Seas. What’s…yours?” she said, hesitating a little more with every word.

“My name is Ever Watchful, miss Seas.”

She gave a valiant effort to blink in surprise. “You with the Watchers? Explains a bit.”

“No, but I know where some are.” I lied.

“Oh, well…that’s good. Always liked them.” she said slowly.

Ah, good, something liked them! I was right!

We spent a few moments very carefully not speaking, and those few quiet moments were those I had no idea I was even dreading.

Emerald finally spoke, and there was a degree of finality in her voice. “Watchful, I need you to put your hands on my neck and squeeze.”

No.

Never.

“I refuse to kill you!”

Her voice bubbled up to a half-sob.

“I will last for days like this! Death is a mercy!”

“But…”

“If you are a good person, do it!”

Oh, Discord, why me.

I did knew what I had to do…but…

Even if I could, I would never want to go back to the commune ever again. Not after today. Not after killing a pony.

With a heavy sigh, I sat down close to the mare, careful not to get any blood on me, and I took great care to lift the pony from her position on the ground and, ever so slowly, moved her until her back rested halfway onto my chest. I wasn't sure what I should be doing, really, but I tried and gently move her head under my outstretched right arm, not quite under elbow but close to it.

I wondered, for a moment, what led me to this mess. One day I was living in my home, and four days later I was cradling the rotten form of a pony begging for death.

Finally, it seemed that Emerald Seas was getting impatient with me, going by her low groans, and I, perhaps out of shear pity, started to rub the pony's right ear with my right hand, I little thing I had once heard from Copper Pot, who claimed that, like cats, ponies had sensitive ears, but that, because of a lack of hands, they never really realized this. Going by the mare's reaction, the comparison to cat's was apt.

"Goodness, you've done this before, sonny?" the mare said, quiet and almost amused. "Pity I didn't know you before today, you could have done this to m-"

There was one loud pop, followed by several smaller but far wetter one's as I snapped her neck between my forarm and my chest, and after one last ragged attempt for a breath the mare was what she resembled.

It took me a while to stop sobbing, but even then Blueberry had not bothered to come and check on me. As such, I was not surprised when she was did not ask why I was in there so long.

“Broken terminal, huh?” she said, as if she could care less.

“Yeah.” I said flatly.

Neither of us spoke, with me half expecting her to speak up about what in Tartarus's name has happened back there. The other half was me accusing her of being a monster. I had so many questions, and most of them involved Blueberry. I was conflicted in only how to dispose of her body.

However, I surprised myself, even if it did come out of my own mouth.

“Why are you not a Ranger anymore, Blueberry?”

To my surprised, she just gave a little low chuckle.

“Oh, goodness me, I thought you were…never mind, Sorry.”

I did not know if it was a apology. To either me or Emerald Seas. Perhaps it was not one at all. It hardly mattered now, in my mind.

“I left, well…heh…”

I slowed down the pace that I was walking at, I wanted to hear every bit of this.

“Sometimes, in the wasteland, a pony needs to wipe their slate clean.”

(Interlude) You Probably Think I am a Silly, Gullable Fool

I kept walking, as we had nothing to say to each other. I was mildly afraid of the little pony resting behind me, but who would not? Steel Rangers are brutal creatures, and for all I knew she could have been too crazy for them to handle, her words about “wiping her slate clean” be dammed. She knew spells, for Discord’s sake! Spells! That blasted sidearm of hers, Self Defense, could cook me in seconds! I was the seven foot tall minotaur, and she was the most dangerous thing in miles! The biggest threat to my life was nearly wider than she was tall and was currently sleeping in an oversized blue-grey robe she brought with her!

But, I needed her. I knew that. Even if she was the reason I was in this situation, I needed to tolerate her. She knew the area, or at least she claimed too, and if anything, she was hardly a liability. Even if she would fit in with a raider clan, she was the closest thing to a ally out here.

A ally that killed innocents for the sake of the sum of there parts. I can still hear Seas screaming. I could still feel it when her neck cracked.

Blueberry Cream, ex-Steel Ranger Senior Scribe, was going to pay for her actions one day. Not sure when, but eventually.

To my surprise, we maked good time. Braymont was closer than Blueberry thought, and we quickly make it within city limits within a few good hours on the road. I hardly even noticed the change, considering I was half-asleep myself.

Braymont was...brown. Brown walls, brown streets, brown ground. I half-heartedly wanted to see another color again. Heck, even the sky looked like dirt. Nothing so far was over one story, and all the buildings looked smashed-in and well used. Nothing like the store was passed hours ago, that was for sure. No ponies in sight, either. I could only hope that we could make it to the tower by the next day so Blueberry could work her Scriby magic’s.

By now, the mare was half-awake, head just peaking out under the hood of her robe.

“Didn’t expect you to keep walking....you should rest.”

I kept walking.

Blueberry presumably waited for me to stop.

I kept walking.

She probably made a little frown.

I kept walking.

She probably pouted slightly.

I kept walking, until I felt my legs freeze up.

She probably had a glowing horn.

I craned my neck.

Yep. I was a puppet in her...hooves. Horn, possibly.

“We should rest. Swap stories. We have a good few hours before nightfall, anyway, and we both have things we want to say to each other.”

Ah, yes, the plan. Sneak in under the cover of darkness and sneak out. Of course, I needed to pass on the message to somepony, which was currently hidden in my stuff.

Then again, despite what I had against stopping in any way, it’s not like we were in danger and I suppose she was right on one account. When I felt my legs un-seize up, I began walking over near one of the more in-tact buildings to lean on.

“Sure.”

She giggled slightly as she hopped off the cart, her little robe dragging along as she did so. “You could talk a bit more. Sometimes you make me feel like I am leading you around.”

“You are.” I replied.

She made a little frown. “Why’s that?”

I sighed. “You have more magic than all the ponies I have seen put together and have used it on me more times than I care to think about.”

She gave me a blank look, and under her little robe-blanket she looked like a blue horned turtle peaking out of its shell.

To my surprise, she spoke three words I would have never expected to hear out of her.

“I am sorry.”

I must have shown my surprise, because she let out a little bitter laugh.

“What do you want me to say? You must think this is my fault.”

I looked away from her and let out a little snort. She just laughed.

“You do! You do! Oh, Goddesses, you must...I am your bane of existence right now, right?”

I looked back at her and gave a little half-hearted nod. She was...crying?

Oh, come on. How am I supposed to hate something that was a quarter of my size and was bawling in front of me? She brutalized another one of her kind and was half the reason I was in the middle of a ruined city possibly filled with ponies wanting to kill me on principle!

So, I did something that I hoped I would not regret.

I picked up the surprisingly light pony and gave the closest thing to a hug I could give without making look like a sexual assault. Blueberry squeaked slightly, but continued to sniffle.

Oh, the wasteland will end me, one way or another.

And so, after that little moment of weakness, we eventually settled down and talked.

She talked about the Rangers, I talked about my home. We both thought it was funny that we both had bosses that were called Elders, but apparently her mother, Blueberry Saber, was her's. Neither of us liked our fathers, and we very quickly decided not to talk about that.

She joked on me about my “relationship” with Brass and laughed at my stories about Copper, and I in turn chuckled at her stories about self-entitled albino Paladins and how everyone’s name related to food, which also spurned on a conversation about how the Steel Rangers worked.

I was fascinated, frankly, at how the Unicorn members were seen as less useful than the Earth Ponies, but then she mentioned that most of the original Rangers proper came from hard-working members of Equestrias breadbasket and that they kept naming there foals. I nodded in respect, for I could understand such a thing, as minotaurs tended to choose abstract concepts for names, even if they didn't have real meaning.

I found out that Caladonia was another country like Equestria, and she was very surprised I did not know what it was, considering that, to my own surprise, we were actually in it. I talked about life in the commune, and she talked about life in her bunker, and as it turned out they were shockingly similar. She was confused about how the separation of bulls and cows worked, but then I noted the similarity to how unicorns and earth ponies worked in her home and she nodded in realization.

She showed me Self Defense and said that she got it on her thirteenth birthday, and said it was one of a kind, modified for her own personal use to fire faster and carry more energy cells than a normal pistol. I asked about her cutie-mark, and showed me it: it was a few blueberries that, for whatever reason, were on fire, and said that she got it when she was ten. I just said that the only thing I got when I was ten was a spear and an assigned guard post, while she just laughed and said that the robe she was snuggling in was given to her around the same time, but she never quite grew into it like she was supposed too.

We both laughed, and it was only a little forced at that point.

And so, we spent an hour talking about life, carefully taking about ourselves while avoiding all the really important things, like her actions or my future. And we rested, ate some food, and prepared for the long night ahead of ourselves.

At least we could trust each other, in the long run. I think.

Author's Note

Or: Taking the lazy way out of a hard situation. Enjoy the infodump. :D

You Probably Can Expect Trouble

I was woken from my slumber on a moldering mattress by the sound of something mechanical moving outside, which surprised me nearly as much as the fact I had a idea of what that sounded like. Looking to my side, I saw the prone, robe-covered form of Blueberry Cream, the possibly insane scribe I was bound to on this little quest of ours. I sighed in relief.

The last thing I needed was for her to ditch me when I was sleeping. I looked over the dehablitied room we had moved into over the night and then at the cart. We both decided that a lack of a fire was worth not being seen, and the cart was something too important to leave outside. I only had to knock a little bit of the rotten walls near the former doorway in order to fit our lifeline inside it. Luckily for the both of us, the former owners were absent from their house, so there was no need to remove any corpses from the beds we pulled out into what might’ve been the central room of the house.

Sure, the place was slightly. . . water damaged, and it had been long since been picked over by looters for anything not attached to the ground. There was a bed, and a well-locked wooden box. Said box had a decent sized padlock, which was easily torn off by yours truly. Inside was, much to my semi-dismay, a very warm grey blanket. Why ponies would lock a blanket in a wooden box was beyond me, but it was soft, and warm enough that I could ignore the fact we were sleeping in a very run-down house that smelled of mildew and other, less pleasant things.

Nevertheless, I was awake, there was something very large moving on the road outside. Going by the lighting, it was not yet morning, but it was getting close. Blueberry stirred slightly.

Gently pulling off the grey blanket, I half-crept over to the doorframe and peaked outside. I then felt my jaw go slack.

Sweet Discord, was that a tank!?

Now, I only had a general idea of what a tank looked like, but this fit the bill. It was a great metal box nearly as tall as the room in which we had set up camp, and was nearly as wide, with a big metal spade-like structure in the front that was probably for protecting the inner parts. I could make out at least one gun barrel on the thing, nearly as wide as my torso, and there were probably more than what I could not see. It was painted a vivid red, and there was a vast network of pips, lights, and other moving structures near its rear that just made the whole thing look like a miniature industrial death-dealer. For whatever reason, there was also what looked like a red. . . couch near its front, as if the drivers wanted to see the mechanized behemoth obliterate everything in its path.

It was a giant personalized beacon of shooty death, made by sadists who wanted to watch the death of their fellow equines from a nice view. Shit, there was probably air conditioning on the damned thing!

And it was heading away from where we were supposed to be going.

I was going to go and alert the local Steel Ranger about the giant metal box with very big guns heading away from Braymont’s interior when she finally decided to wake up and smell the burning coal.

Groggy, slightly confused, and huddled in her oversized robe to the point of barely showing her head, she just trotted over to the doorway without actually saying anything to me. However, her choked gasp of fear and stereotypical pony gun-envy told me that she saw the newest threat to our safety clearly. Not like it was easy to miss.

And so, despite our plans, we decided not to leave camp as early as possible to head for the inner parts of the town, on the off chance that it was a herald for something worse. As such, we tried to go into a slumber unsuccessfully, unable to go asleep thanks to the horrible clink-whirr of the metal behemoth outside that lit up the wasteland as it rode down the crumbling road.

It was an hour before we both believed it was safe, and by then the sun had come up. Not willing to wait another day to sneak in under the cover of darkness like we supposedly planned, we both decided to pack up and start moving.

And it was a decent two hours of travel, too, before we met the newest threat to our lives. Frankly, Braymont was boring. Most of the structures had long since gone rotten, and the only ponies that lived here were scavengers or. . . worse. Apparently, it was half abandoned even before the whole “end of the world” and it was irradiated enough to the point it was unlivable for most. Blueberry just said that, if the news on her radio was true (when was she going to tell me she had one!?) the NCR was moving in to deal with a issue regarding the viability of the area as a camp site. Which, of course, meant the few locals in the area were going nuts.

Speaking of locals, one has been tailing us on the road for a few minutes. Scraggy grey earth pony, probably half-dead from radiation poisoning going by the sores it sported.

Blueberry was prepared to put the creature out of it’s misery with a shot from Self Defence, but I gave her a hard glance. It was hardly appropriate for us to go around and shoot ponies that looked like they needed to die. If we did that, I insisted, everyone in the wasteland would be dead.

She just gave me a little glare and pretended not to notice the trotter behind us. The poor twit was hardly a threat, in my mind, considering all it had was a crappy brown bag. It couldn’t even hide properly, and was trying to sneak around the moldering buildings that surrounded us as we passed. Half my mind just wanted to yell at it, while the other part was just saying it was another traveler.

However, something broken and half-choked came from behind me. Slightly pleased, I realised it was the formerly stalking pony, trotting at a higher speed to catch up with us. Stopping my own steady walk, I moved away from the cart and walked around the thing.

Blueberry just jumped off it.

The. . . colt gave the closest thing he could give that resembled a heartfelt greeting.

“He-hello there?”

Oh, damn it. He really was screwed; his hair was falling out.

Blueberry got that look in her eye as she glanced at his bag., which contained something round and possibly expensive. No, not again. No more murders.

She just smiled sweetly at the buck, who I realized was actually a tan color: his ashy skin was so ruined it just resembled wavy fur from a distance. He returned a weak smile.

“So, are you heading for the NCA site to trade?”

The buck gave her a look, as if she was the one with the half-fried brain. “Yeah, I am. I just came back f-from the city, and me and my buddies were going to trade some memory...orbs.”

Blueberries eyes shined with glee. The colt just looked at her, and then at me. He somehow became paler than he already was once he realized his position.

“Oh-oh goddesses, your. . . let me. . . please don’t. . .” he begged.

Blueberry dropped her smile.

“We have Rad-Away, but not enough to give freebees. The orb for a packet.”

He blanched. “But you don’t even know what’s on it, miss!”

Blueberry just grinned. “You risked radiation poisoning for the thing, and don’t tell me you lied. You're too tired to do that.”

He gulped. “Th-the University o-of Tauronto?”

Blueberry just stared at him blankly. Wait, if he was coming from the west, he would have been coming from the other...

I gave a snort.

“Liar.”, I said.

He began to panic. “ I swear it’s from there! I swear! It’s important too! Grabbed it from a dead mare’s desk, I did!”

I raised an eyebrow at his disgrace to grammar, but Blueberry just looked at him with new interest.

“Perhape’s if we get a peak at it, we will let you pass? Just a little look. If its worth keeping, we will give you some Rad-Away.”

It was a fruitless offer. No amount of purging could save this wannabie ghoul.

He looked unsure, but shifted slightly. Eventually, after some hesitation, he passed what might have been his only worldly possession to her magical grip. The little light grey orb twinkled in the not-light.

“Watchful, your Recollector.”

I blinked. She wanted me too...gah. It’s not worth arguing. I don’t know anything about memory orbs, and hear I am about to see my first one on the orders of little miss first amongst equals. Sometimes, I feel like a pushover. Blueberry just have me a winning smile and pointed her hoof into the direction of the cart.

I grumbled, and took a few steps over the the cart. It was easy to find, considering it was in my scarcely packed bag.

She looked at me. I put it on, a tight fit between my horns. She just hovered it over my head, and let it drop into the curved part of the cursed object with a tinny plunk.

And then everything went gray.

oooOOOooo

So, this was what the past was like.
Huh.

…

Kind of warm.

…

Okay, four limbs, a oversized head, no horn, so just a regular poooonnwaaaiiitt a second.
…

Well, this was interesting. I felt fuzzy.

…..

Okay, going by how my thighs shifted, I am a female pony, apparently.
…

Wait,is this pony blind?

…

Did memory orbs come with instruction manuals?

…

Wonder if this is trapped.

….

Heard something about that, unicorns going into comas because they entered these things. Is that why Blueberry asked me to...

…

Curse that tiny sociopathic steel ranger.

….

Is it going to end any time soon?

…

And then everything exploded in color.

Whoa! What is this...were my eyes closed? That must have been it. Me-err, the pony, were in some sort of giant, brown, well-lit room in front of a stage-like area with an aged-looking unicorn at the helm. There was at least a few score other colorful ponies in similar positions, each with there own desk on individual rows, each quietly writing down what the old pony in front droned on about something. It reminded me of the commune, really, but with ponies and desks.

Wait, that did not make any sense.

I/she looked down at her…Desk? Was this a school? I try to take a better look at the room, but my host was moving her head too much for me to take in anything besides just how large the place was. And the colors were beginning to make we...me wish for the gift of dull brown again.

Then some sort of alarm rings out, which makes me and my host snap out of …our daze. But going by the other ponies faces, they were...happy? What sort of alarm would make ponies happy?

But then I saw them begin to exit from two double-doors on each side of the great hall, and I sighed in relief. But then the pony I was in began trotting over to the front of the room down a set of tricky wooden stairs. I..She...the pony felt decent enough. Not bad, albeit slightly worried. The only thing I could get about my hosts appearance was that she had apparently very shiny purple hair and shiny light blue fur. Very shiny in fact. Wonder what pre-war ponies washed with, powdered gems?

Wait, I felt what she was...oh, gosh; this was not going to be a nice ride, is it? The feeling of sinking dread is universal, apparently.

By the time my hostess got down the stairs, I got a closer look at the pony in front of the class. He was strange for a pony, actually.

The stallion, for it was unmistakably one, was smallish for an adult, but was very...evil looking, frankly. No other word would be accurate. He had a matted-looking brown mane and had fur that resembled something you would use in a metaphor to describe darkness, and had piss-yellow eyes and a scowl that could make a calf cry. His hooves were chipped and grimy looking, and he generally slumped as he moved no matter what he did, and his cute mark was a set of golden scales. Finally, he had the weirdest looking horn I have ever seen, lacking the little grooves I knew of and pitch-black and smooth. Furthermore, it was quite long and very pointy-looking, almost as if it was sharpened. I swore the light of the room was adsorbed into the damned thing.

He was staring at me with something akin to disgust, mouth curled into a sneer. I felt fear. It was a natural reaction.

“Err, sir?”

If I could blink, I would have. My voice was very...something. I could taste the sugar in my mouth every time she breathed, that’s how sweet the voice coming out of...my...her mouth was. Weird.

The stallion in front of me just gave a little glare at my host.

“Yes?”

Okay, if he did not eat babies, I will eat a rock. Nothing nice could have that voice. It sounded like what you would imagine a devil from Tartarus to sound like, low and threatening, something that would make wary parents keep there foals away from him if he was walking in, say, a park.

Again, Copper Pot taught me many phrases I will never truly know the meaning of. Discord bless his strange little heart.

Neverless, my host meekly attempted to speak clearly. “Err, Professor, I-”

The “professor” practically snapped at her then, eyes practically flashing with something akin to arrogance.

“Your name?” he said.

My host tripped over her own name, for whatever reason.

“My name, my name is Amber…Leaf?” I said, not sounding or feeling confidant whatsoever.

He spat at her, which drew a little meep from my host and from me frankly. I knew goat’s with better disposition then this unicorn!

“Your real name, Crystalite, not the one given to you. Tell me the one your parents gave you, I cannot stand those names Image decided to give your kind. Come on, dear, where is your racial pride?”

After several moments of fearful disbelief, she responded hastily.

“It’s is...Aurea Laurea, sir. My name is Aurea Laurea.”

The stallion breathed in deeply, and exhaled with something like satisfaction. Frankly, I was beginning to dread why this was memory was extracted.

“Ah, a fine name, I must say. Tell me, Aurea, would you kindly remind me why did you had it changed?”

“The-the ponies that came to use said that would help with our integration into regular pony society, sir.”

The professor just nodded slightly.

“And you decided on equestrian history as your government sponsored class why, miss Aurea?”

Aurea suddenly blurted out something that confused me slightly.” I-it was part of our...Sir! I wanted to speak to you about your promotion!”

The professors eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed as if he was speechless.

“I am...where in the world did my...I am deeply...”

Aurea’s tone became harder.” I will leave your first choice words when I talk to Plum. Really now, a master mage of one of Equestria’s highest institutes for learning having anti-Empirical thoughts would just send Druggie into a tizzy, would it not?”

I was confused right now. The words were not...flowing properly, with my mouth not actually making the words I was hearing. Like the original words were removed and new ones were added later.

The stallion just nodded, a wide, fearful smile gracing his face. “And I suppose Plum is...”

Aurea rolled her eyes, possibly. For whatever reason, I was feeling numb. I felt less like a living person and more like one along with the ride.

“Of course, Plum is my lessons coach. Now, there is the matter of miss Dusky Glimmer entering the school grounds.”

The old stallion gave a little annoyed hiss.

“Who is that supposed to be, Sparkles ghetto-fabulous half-cousin?! Who is coming up with these idiotic names?”

What. I didn't even know where to start.

Aurea, however, did not seem to find it funny, and actually stomped on the ground. “Stick to the plan, and it’s------”

Her mouth was moving, but nothing came out. Was this thing tampered with?

“---- And it hardly matters, sir. So, anyway, you were going to ask me a question?”

However, the professor just nodded hastily, and almost shifted into a mask of sorts. All business with a friendly student with a few questions.

“How long are you staying here, Aurea?”

“Until I learn what I need to know about our history. Besides my general studies, I really want to get something out of this class.”

The professor looked mildly surprised, but nodded in approval. “There is a fine selection of books in the biomagic wing on the subject of healing, you understand.”

“I checked through them already, I was going to ask if I could see your notes on the subject.”

“You understand what is in those cannot be allowed to the other students, yes? You might be seen as cheating.”

Aurea gave a little nod and smile.“Ah, but several are already copying there answers, and its not like Plum will need help with advanced magic’s.”

The stallion raised a eyebrow. “But I thought you were helping Plum study?”

“No, Plum is helping Glimmer. It’s all Bedazzled and Morganites fault that I am here.”

The stallion looked aghast. “I know Bedazzled enough to know she would need help, Celestia knows how many times she has looked over her textbook and asked me questions about it, but Morganite? I thought she was out of school!”

Aurea just shrugged. “It shocked me, too, far more than you, probably, but apparently she took a peak into the old Headmasters office and found some things she would love to look into. Extra curricular, if one will.”

The professor looked genuinely disturbed, and took a shaky breath. Another weird pause with no talking followed, but eventually he began talking normally. “Off the record, I simply must ask, what are you planning to do...when you graduate?”

Aurea probably gave another little shrug.” School has been rough; I might just pretend I was on vacation and get paid my entire life afterword. I might get a journal made, though, in case I need to remember what I learned. That’s Plums advice, anyway. As you said, Crystalites live a long time, and I want to live with a endless supply of bits to make up for the time I have spent here.”

The professor just looked at her amused contempt, and said “I myself was thinking of becoming Headmaster myself.”

It was Aurea’s turn to be shocked. The old pony just grinned a nasty little grin.

And then, there was a vague roaring noise, and everything went black.

oooOOOooo

I was confused, mildly achy, and rather annoyed. That entire conversation was probably in code. The orb was probably useless unless you lived two hundred years ago and cared what a butch of weird ponies did behind each others backs for fun and profit. What was a “crystalite”, anyway? Was there a butch of similar orbs detailing stuff like that all over the bloody wasteland?

I fluttered my eyes open, only to notice that, for whatever reason, the world was bathed in a dark grey light. And my Recollector or whatever one calls it was missing. And I was alone in the cart, which was missing our stuff.

Then I noticed that, besides having been moved onto the cart, Blueberry was smiling sheepishly.

“What in the name of Discord did you do?”

She nudged her shoulder to the left, a pained expression of false glee straining her face.

I turned.

There was half-dozen ponies in combat armor glaring at us, to be exact, me.

I looked to my right, and saw a similar sight.

I also noticed that each had a rather clean rifle besides them, and that we were surrounded by buildings that looked like…

…military…

…camps…

…Did that sign say “NCA?”…

...it did...

“Do not move, Minotaur scum!” said one of the members of the small army of heavily armed speciest ponies that surrounded us.

Oh, well, golly damn it all to hell, Blueberry.

When There is Smoke

I was surrounded by at least two score armed ponies, each one prepared to shoot me and my alleged ally. I guessed that, going by what I knew from my own training, that while I could probably survive two or three shots from one of the guns they carried, more than that would doom me. Unless Blueberry had a shielding spell, we were going to die if they wanted.

I looked to my right very carefully: there was no exit.

I did the same with my left. Nothing but angry, very well armed ponies.

We were screwed. Completely and utterly. There was no single phrase to describe how screwed we were in Equish.

There might have been one in Minotaurian, however. We were kind of assholes like that.

I closed my eyes, and prepared for a few tiny chunks of metal to finish me. I could only assume that Blueberry was doing that, or preparing to levitate the cart or something.

I opened my left eye. She was huddled next to me with her hoofs on top of her head, shaking slightly.

Dang it. Of all the times...

I re-prepared for swift death. I had no intention to die like a typical bull-headed hunter, charging with a spear in hand against a wave of hot lead.

And I waited.

And waited some more.

And then the music started from some hidden speaker or another, filling the entire court with its bombastic sound.

It was a thing of drums and brass, something one could hear on the radio from time to time. Militaristic at its core, and perfect for intimidation..

I opened my eyes. The ponies were on there knees, heads hung low, and some had moved out of the way to form a path.

There was a pony walking down it, a thin coal-colored unicorn mare with a deep red mane clad in a decorated uniform, two ponies in what looked like ramshackle power armor flanking her on each side, each bearing two long-barreled objects that could only be very large guns. Her head was raised and eyes closed, making her seem like a queen with her subjects bowing to her.

Finally, she and her intimidating guards stopped their slow trot in front of the cart, and the music stopped right then and there.

She lowered her head ever so slowly, and opened her eyes. Two grey orbs stared into my own, and she gave a tiny, knowing smile.

Well, if anything, the NCR knew how to make an impression.

The unicorn spoke with a low, rich voice with a hint of mirth, almost completely conflicting with her actual appearance and the situation on hand.

“I am Colonel Charnel. I have many questions, and I insist that you peacefully give in to questioning.”

I just nodded. Blueberry did the same.

Charnel just chuckled. The solder’s laying prone on the floor, however, remained silent.

“Wonderful. Follow me if you wish to live.”

The building we were led to was easily the most stable-looking one in the camp. It was small, yes, but looked clean, and the guards were silent and left us alone. It seemed that most of my fears were misplaced. Heck, Charnel seemed nice, so I might be able to get out of the situation Blueberry got me into with most of my stuff. I really wanted the note Sea’s gave me, considering that she would probably not approve if whatever was on there was given to ponies who likely could not understand it. Last wishes and all.

And my life. I would like to keep that as well.

Eventually, we had made the short trip to the entrance of what was probably her study. Taking a few moments to go through a ring of keys, smiling apologetically as she took her time fiddling through them, she unlocked the door and beckoned us to go inside as she went on to another part of the building for some reason or another.

The room we were half-forced into by the guards smelled of stale smoke and had little inside it besides a darkly colored wooden desk and two small wooden chairs. The desk itself had the only color in the room on its front, a white-colored sun with yellow stripes clashing with the otherwise gray-brown coloration that seemed to make up the entirety of Braymonts color scheme. There was a little safe in a corner as well, and her desk was lined with small shot glasses and paperwork along with a little grey ashtray on the side. In essence, there was little to suggest that this was a mare who was the leader of three dozen solders.

However, my optimism for my future and Charnel's willingness to let us live was crushed by pure horror when I noticed the horned skull set behind the desk, far larger than any brahmans, with golden tips on the thickly set horns proper. The brass ring in the nasal cavity confirmed my fears. Oh, fuckidy-fuck me.

Then again, Blueberry began to sweat when she saw the power-armor helm being used as a trash can besides the desk, so my anguish and fear for our continual existence was shared with something else. Together, seated in front of the desk, we knew that her guards were silently watching us near the entrance to the room.

Charnel returned a few heart-pounding minutes later, lacking any of the armor or clothing she was wearing before, letting the two of us notice that, besides her being visibly muscular in a ropy sort of way under that snazzy uniform, her cutie mark was a trifecta of blackened pony skulls that were ablaze with crimson flame.

Oh, joy. We were both going to die horribly.

With a deft use of magic, the little safe in the corner opened to reveal that it contained nothing more than a small flat scaly-looking pouch and bottle of something that was probably alcoholic. She took both items out and began, with deft magical control, pouring herself some amber liquid while unlocking the leathery looking case to reveal a rather expensive-looking cigar collection. She just took a rather average-looking one out and ignited an end in a red flash.

“I suppose you two do not drink or smoke?”

“No.” I said. Blueberry echoed me.

Charnel just hummed slightly, and eventually she sat down in her chair bearing a crude imitation of a smile, teeth sharpened and bared like a wolf at her prey. And we were the fattened blind lambs.

“First impressions are important, are they not?” Oh, she probably was a riot at parties.

“Yes.”

Blueberry just nodded as she took a point to avoid looking at the makeshift trash-can.

Charnel just nodded her head in agreement. “Now, I must admit, most ponies would be begging for there lives now, least of all a minotaur and a Scribe, so I have to give you credit for not freaking out and getting shot by my two friends behind you. I mean, the decorations alone should have you going into hysterics.” She levitated her cigar hovered near her mouth, and I began to notice the foul smell of the smoke coming off the thing.

Charnel just continued to talk, as if we did not have guns pointed at our heads. “I mean, this might seem like too much to you, but I simply don’t really see much a difference between putting a minotaur’s skull up on the wall and using hellhound claws as a weapon. It seems...silly, really, especially in this part of the wasteland. But, enough of that, we have business.”

She took a puff of the cigar, and actually took care not to blow it in our direction. It still filled the room with thick grey smoke.

“Tell me your names, and why you were traveling on a road with a dead earth pony and a passed out minotaur.”she said, rubbing her hooves together as if to keep herself warm.

I was going to speak, but she was plainly looking at Blueberry. Then again, I suppose she would have been the one to ask.

“Well, my name is Blueberry Cream, and the minotaur next to me is my bodyguard, Ever Watchful.”

I love you too, Blueberry.

“We were heading to Tauronto to trade, but I was told that the radio tower here needed to be fixed. We were heading there, but we were attacked by a crazed pony.”

Well, two out of three an’t bad, I suppose.

Charnel’s face went blank. “And you shot him with an energy weapon. We found your robes, mare; ponies do not carry anything with the SR insignia unless they have a very good reason. Don’t lie about where your allegiance lies. Allegiance is one of the few things worth keeping in this day and age.”

Blueberry made a little nervous chuckle. “Well, yes, I used to be a Ranger, but that hardly matters. Anyway, the pony had a memory orb with him,”

Charnel just looked at Blueberry oddly. “ Well, that explains why Watchful here was asleep for so long, but why did you carry the body with you?”

My ears shot up. She did what?!!

Blueberry thought for a few moments, gave me a little apologetic smile, and said “Well, you see, sometimes my bodyguard gets, well, heh, peckish…”

Charnel made a look of pure disgust, and I was only resisting the urge to make new holes on Blueberry for me to stick sharp things into by thinking about where I would stick them into. She was going to pay for that later. She had a lot to pay for, but I suppose one more thing was a drop in the ocean.

A tiny moment of silence overtook the little morbid room, and after another smelly puff Charnel threw both her hooves together and broke out into a full blown smile.

I was sure I was going to die.

“Actually, I don't care why you two are together, and I do not need to. Because I have a job for you two.”

Oh Discord, the things I will do to you, Blueberry.

Blueberry spoke up. “But we have to fix the radio tower-”

Charnel made a little snarl, and her tobacco-bundle suddenly combusted!

“The radio tower is being worked on by my ponies, Scribe! You are mine now!”

Blueberry made a little meep. I just stayed quiet, in hopes that I would not become another ash pile on the desk.

Charnel, suddenly regaining control of her temper, just gave another award-winning smile. The award being the prized Most Likely to Have Been a Former Raider Princess .

“ I suppose you have no idea who I am, do you?”

“I had no idea who the NCR was three days ago.” I said honestly. Blueberry just face-hoofed.

Charnel gave a me a look that, if it was not so horribly possible, I would say was smoldering. Speaking of smolders, the room smelled like a furnace. Filled with plastic. Plastic that was also rotten. Somehow.

Charnel made a sneer as she blew some of the toxic smoke to the ceiling.“Minotaur, a year ago I was on the front lines slaughtering your kind. If you asked my ponies, they would say there are more charred corpses decorating there lands that I created than any other solder combined. That's a exaggeration, of course, but only a small one."

At that, she looked up at the ceiling, seemingly lost in happy memories. "The skull behind me belonged to the one who put me out of active duty. The brute gored me in the chest and broke almost half my ribs. To compensate. I cooked him alive in a burning building and ate him. Reminds me of brahman, really.”

Oh, well, you probably taste like...ashes and smoke.

Blueberry promptly trotted over to the makeshift trash can and vomited.

Charnel just took a shot of whatever was in the glass, took a moment to savor it, and looked on as Blueberry got back into her chair with something akin to satisfaction.

“But I am feeling kind today. I have something that needs to be sent to a pony in Tauronto, and its something that must remain off the record, if one will. Something that I cannot involve the NCR with. And luckily, you two might just be able to survive a trip into that terrible place.”

Wait, terrible?

“Do you have any idea who the Pure are, Blueberry Cream?”

Well, they sounded nice.

Blueberry gave a shocked gasp.

Well, that’s not good.

“The-they are...unicorn...extremists. They came from some sort of stable in the north, and they think they are descendants of equestrian mages, petty nobility, and other such groups. They call themselves the Pure because, while they accept any unicorn of sufficient power into there ranks, they run a large slaving operation and any non-unicorn under their command are slaves or worse. ”

I blinked, as did Charnel.

That’s it, she’s telling me everything about this place after this mess. If we live. No more secrets.

“Okay, then, you know them. Good. Anyway, my sister is getting married, and I just wanted to send a letter of congratulations.”

A genuine envelope floated out of desk drawer and landed gently on the table.

Blueberry gave her a possibly genuine smile. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

Charnel gave a snort, which lacked the stream of smoke I expected. “Oh, not really. Pyra could do better than the halfwit she’s marrying. Some crazy wild-haired stable pony that managed to pass the tests to get in named Boffenspark.”

What. Who would name a foal that. Even Blueberry frowned a little..

Charnel didn't think the name was worth commenting on, though, considering she just kept going.

“Anyway, you two are leaving tonight. Your sharing a room together till then, don't want the troops to get trigger-happy with a minotaur roaming about. You are getting your cart back, but I am sorry to say that my ponies buried the corpse you were planning on snacking on.”

Blueberry did not look at me, and I did not want her too. She needs to come up with better lies.

However, I had a question.

“How will you know that we gave them the letter in time?”

Charnel just gave me another wolfish smile.

“I am going up there in two weeks time. If you have done so, I will know. Now, go along now. I am done with you two. Your room is down the hall. Stay in it until I come and see you.”

For whatever reason, I felt the room become hotter. Not hot enough to sweat, but combined with the acrid smell and the distinct knowledge of there being a cannibal in the room...

Well, I just sat up, pushed my chair away, and quickly stepped out of the room which I faintly suspected was something akin to a portal to Tartarus.

And yet, the only thing on my mind were questions.

Questions I knew Blueberry had the answers to.

You Should See The Looks On Your Faces

The room we were sent into was a ramshackle affair, and the only things in it were two tiny beds and a filthy wooden desk half-covered in grime. Of course Charnel would send us into the least renovated room in the whole place.

But that was beside the point.

I had questions, and Blueberry had the answers. No more secrets.

I waited until she looked mostly recovered from the…incident that happened a few minutes ago, and looked her in the eyes.” Blueberry, what is the matter with Tauronto?”

She was clearly not expecting that, and her mildly annoyed expression was proof of that.

“There is nothing the matter with it. It’s a city. A big one. In the wasteland. Do you want a list?”

I grimaced. “What does that mean, exactly? Because if the cannibal pony with fire magic says it’s horrible, than it’s clearly not the nicest place in the world.”

She clearly understood what I was going at, and she did not like that one little bit. “Watchful…it’s just a city. Any place that has a reason to attract ponies will attract some bad ones. Actually…”

She looked at me carefully, as if she was trying to see if I was trustworthy.

“Have I told you about my home?”

I was upset by that. “Don’t you try and change the subject on me!”

She just smiled. “Filly is a horrible place. Its home to the largest slaving empire in existence, and it’s easily one of the most cruel. There are probably a thousand ponies toiling inside its walls for the sake of creating the foundations of a new government powered by blood and sweat. The smoke from its factories fills the sky and the actual slavers and the Talon guards are among the worst scum of the earth. The only thing worse than a griffon with armor is one of the alicornian monstrosities that dwell there.”

Blueberry shuddered slightly, but it was nothing I didn't already know.

“The Rangers there, my family, are decimated and desperate. They are down to a hoofull of experienced knights and a bunch of colts and fillies who barely know which end of a gun the bullet comes out. The only reason my mother is still in charge there is because there is no one else who knew the old Elder is alive, Watchful. In fact, two years ago Red Eye invaded one of our major outposts and killed most of the scribes there, including my father. And do you know the worst part?”

I just shrugged.

“If I had too, if I really had to settle somewhere, I would got back there and ask for a job.”

I blanched.

“And you want to know why?" She took a moment to breath. "There is nothing worth saving in Manehatten. Maripony is a hellhole filled with alicorns. Hoofington is ravaged by militant scavengers and worse, and there are so many gangs and raiders that there is no pony worth saving. Whoever is in Vanhoover who is not a drug addict is a drug dealer, and the only place you can walk at night in Baltimare is near the harbors, and that’s because the Zebras living there kill every pony they see. Trottingham is filled with monsters. Chicagcolt is a rusting nightmare, and Detrot is even worse. Flankfurt is a den of drug addicts and those who can make a profit off them, and Shetlandston is inhabited by a few dozen raider gangs who hate every other raider gang. And Dis, well, Dis is special.”

She gave little bitter laugh. I took the bait.

“What’s the matter with Dis?”

“Dis is often called the last great city. The only ponies who say that, of course, are those who have never been there. The place is ruled by a pony named House and his Hizais. Do you know what those are?”

“No.” Inside, I was wondering if she even remembered Seas.

Blueberry looked surprised, but just continued with her little informative speech.” They are cyber ponies, every one of them, and they meddle in things House wants a part of, which is mostly everything in Dis. The whole place is a land of thieves and whores, and House uses his Hizais to make sure that they do not overstep there bounds. Frankly, it looks clean and respectable, which is only because there is a mad pony with too much power for his own good makes sure everything is running according to plan. The one we met was probably going to report on what was going on in Tauronto.”

I decided I have heard enough about that.

“Tell me about Tauronto.”

Blueberry began to snicker, and I glared and flexed an arm in her general direction.

“What’s so funny?”

“I thought your would, heh, never ask!”

I groaned.

“But no, really, it’s important, and I guess you do need to know about the place.”

She looked at me expectantly. I gave the best glare I could. She giggled.

“Okay, okay...where to start...Tauronto is odd, really. It’s at the border between Caldonia and Equestria, and there are enough ponies from both places that it’s hard to say who owned it before the war.”

“So who owned it?”

Blueberry snickered. “No idea. Doesn't really matter. There are Ministry Hubs there, and that’s enough for me.”

I was just a tiny bit annoyed. “Who lives in the damned place, Blueberry!”

To her credit, she did not look shocked. “Well, there used to be a bunch of gangs, but they got pushed out a while back. One’s with names like the Blacktalons and Flayers and stuff like that.”

Okay, good so far.

“There's also the Pure, who pretty much control a fourth of the city. It’s mostly well kept, for a piece of the wasteland. Bunch of powerful unicorns that have good magic. I nearly joined them a few years ago.”

Well, it could be worse.

“There also used to be some buffalo and Minotaur’s, but they got pushed out a while ago.”:

Oh come on! That was the reason I came up here!

“Oh! And the inner city is filled with ghouls.”

…..Oh, joy.

“And when were you going to tell me that, Blueberry!”

She tilted her head to the side. “What’s the matter, you scared of ghouls?”

“No, just about anything!” Did the Elder...lie to me?

Blueberry, to my own disgust, smiled. “Right now!”

If it were not for the fact I would probably be killed if I did, I would have picked up Blueberry and see how sturdy the walls were.

“Anyway, we need to go to the inner city. Now, that place is kind of weird. A balefire bomb went off, but it seemed to be lacking in the payload department. Basically, there are about a thousand ghouls in the place, and they shoot anything that breaths on sight. Luckily, they let outsiders in once a year, and according to what I know there going to do there annual gate opening in two weeks. Plenty of time to get in and get out. “

Well, joy. A city within a city filled with ghouls that probably want to kill anything that looked funny, and we have to go in it.....Wait a moment.

“Why do we have to get in?”

At that, Blueberry’s eyes widened and her jaw went slack.

I hoped I didn't break her.

I waved a hand in front of her blank, glazed over face. “Blueberry, you alright?”

Her mouth twitched. “I haven’t...told you the...plan yet?” she said carefully.

I forced a grin. “No. You have a lot of things to tell me.”

She took her time to recompose herself. “It’s simple. We go into ghoul town, get recruits, and go into the Crystal Empire.”

I blinked. That was just a tiny bit different from what I heard back at the commune.

“What?”

Blueberry just sighed. “Okay, it’s simple. The Empire is a very irradiated place. It is also filled with high quality gems. Very high quality. It also has a cache of technology that would be very nice if we could get it.”

“So we get some ghouls to help us get into this place alive?”

She nodded.

“ Yep. If we do a decent haul, neither of us will have to lift a hoof for the rest of our lives.”

“Blueberry, you do understand that I am only following you because I have no idea what to expect in the city, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

You could have lied, you know.

She saw the look on my face, flipped her light blue hair, and snorted. “No reason in lying, Watchful. Got any more questions?”

Why are you a sociopath? How have you lived this long being such a bitch? Are you on drugs? What’s your favorite color? Do you get off on killing, or is it a hobby? Why are you so stupidly powerful? Why am I the one asking all the questions?

And then it hit me.

“Blueberry, what happened with Emerald Seas?”

She looked puzzled, and tilted her head to the side.

“Who?”

I almost picked her up and threw her against the wall, but I didn't. I just clenched my fists and yelled at her.

“The mare you butchered, Blueberry! Like an animal!”

She looked genuinely shocked. “What? I never butchered a pony!”

“You’re a liar, Blueberry! You have lied every step on this little...I don’t know what you are calling it!”

Blueberry was...scared? “Watchful.....when was...this?”

I blinked, my mind clearing. “Do you really not know?”

What.

Blueberry looked scared. Very scared. “Watchful, I need to tell you something. Sometimes...sometimes I forget things.”

I was beginning to dread where this was heading. “Like what, Blueberry?”

“Time, mostly. It doesn't happen often, but when it does....”

I was starting to understand what she was scared of.

“Blueberry, what happened on the road with the irradiated pony?”

Blueberry Cream, crazy pony butcherer, ex-Steel Ranger, began to cry.

And I had the most horrible feeling in my gut that I was the reason why.

“I don’t know! I lied, okay! I don’t know why the pony was in our cart! I don’t know why there's metal parts covered in dried blood in my bags! I don’t know how I got to your leaders house and I don't remember when I agreed to mess with you! I thought you knew about the plan! I don’t know why this keeps happening! It happens every time!”

Oh, Discord. She really didn't.....

“What happens, Blueberry?”

“Ponies look at me like I am crazy and say that I have done horrible things! Even when I was at home, my friends always thought I was crazy! Crazy crazy crazy, all the time! Oh, what did I do! What did I say! Oh, Watchful, what did I do to that mare!”

I was not sure if I wanted to say the truth. But I did anyway.

“You cornered her, sawed off her limbs, and left her for dead. I had to..." I paused, taking a breath so I could actually say what I was about to say.

"I had to snap her neck.”

Blueberry let out an anguished cry and burrowed into the dirty brown bedspread.

Nice going, Ever Watchful. You made the little unicorn with mental issues cry. Dad would be proud.

And so, we had a few agonized moments in the room together. I sat on my bed facing the wall, looking at all the little cracks and molds in the wallpaper, while Blueberry cried herself to a tired sleep.

Which gave me plenty of time to think.

Okay, so Tauronto might not be that bad. Sure, the Elder might have been mistaken about there being decent folk there, but at least there is something of a spot for someone like me. There was also the issue of the Elder possibly sending me off with a crazed mare.

Also, there is a place that’s called the Crystal Empire that probably has a connection with those “Crystalites” I heard of in that memory orb. It's also horribly deadly and filled with nice stuff. Not the best combination.

Also, Blueberry is clearly batshit insane and might not be responsible for her own actions. She was also inconsistent, in a way. She had no issues lying about me eating ponies but she was horrified at the idea of carrying the body a few minutes later. I had no idea what to do.

And to top it off, I had the worst ringing in my head.

Knock Knock

Or, it was the door.

But when I opened it, surprise, there was an slim yellow guard pony on the other side, looking remarkably bored. Charnel looked like the sort to meet the meat in person.

“You got fifteen minutes,big boy. Your cart is outside near the gates. Don’t die on your way there. Have fun.”

I nodded, and bared as many teeth as I could when I smiled back at her. I was pleased to see her shiver slightly as she walked back out into the hallway.

At least, until I heard Blueberry sniffle herself awake.

“Wa-watchful, I need to show you something before we leave. Just head for the cart, I will meet you there.”

I carefully tried to stay quite as I walked outside. I guess that was a reasonable request.

It was nearly dusk outside, not that that was surprising. There were only a few ponies out and about, and they all took great care to ignore me and wagon.

Just the way I liked it, frankly.

Blueberry exited the building just a few minutes after I did, and she looked like a wreck. I noticed some guards look at her with pity and concern, and at least one looked like she wanted to pick the little mare up and give her a hug. Couldn’t blame her if she did, Her mane was matted with tears and she looked like someone ate her puppy.

Never less, she trotted near me and began to rustle through the cart’s bags, eventually finding a little black...I am going to say carrying bag and leaned in to me. From the added height from the cart, we were staring at each other eye-to-eye. Her dark blue eyes, almost purple in the light, were fearful.

“Watchful, within this bag is my most important possession.”

I spotted Self Defense in the cart, hopefully she hadn't forgotten about her gun.

“My mother gave this to me when I was very young. She found it in a Ministry building, and gave it to me on the day I became a Scribe. It’s some sort of advanced spell matrix set on a tiara or something, and it made me feel really good when I wore it. Really good. But, ponies started calling me crazy, so I stopped wearing it in public. But they still called me crazy, even when I only wore it when I was alone, and they said I acted weird and stuff. Like I was mad. I ran away from home because of this thing , I would think.”

I looked at the bag wearily. It was probably nothing good.

“I used to wear it all the time, but when I do it now it doesn't...do anything. I don’t feel different when I put it on, and I don’t know why. I want you to know your the only other…. thing I have ever let see this besides my family in Filly.”

Huh. Neat.

“Thank you, Blueberry.”

Her eyes, filled with appreciation, nodded. The bag opened up, and out raised the strangest thing I have ever seen in a little cloak of blue magic.

Author's Note

Muahahahahahahahaha.

Its Getting Dark

I stared at the strange object in front of me. I suppose it could pass for a object of horrific evil. Black and red and pointy, with some sort of pony princess on it. Evil to a minotaur, anyway.

And so, doing the only thing I would believe would be a reasonable response to having an evil-looking magical artifact in ones face, I poked it.

It just moved in unison with the blue magic that surrounded it. The red parts of the…thing made it look almost purple in the half-light.

In response, Blueberry, tugging on an unseen hoop of twine, levitated the metallic doohickey past her head and let it hang off her neck like some sort of ridicules necklace. Frankly, she was pretty funny looking with it on. The contrast between the evil-looking princesses and the blue utterly non-threatening pony that was wearing it was too great not to notice.

“See? It doesn’t do anything.” For effect, she batted a hoof at the possibly mind-altering object like a cat with a toy.

I just groaned. “Blueberry, I can see that.”

She gave me a little glare.

I smiled back.

“Look, I understand. But we are in the middle of a place that is full of ponies that want us both dead.”

Blueberry smiled with appreciation, and I was about to as well until I smelled smoke.

“So, leaving on time. Wonderful.”

I turned. Charnel was leaning on something blunt and heavy looking while chewing thoughtfully on a cigar. The former made me more concerned than the latter, honestly.

“What do you want?” I asked.

The thing Charnel was leaning on was enveloped in red magic, and scooted closer to me.

“You look like a minotaur who could appreciate a giant hammer.”

I blinked. Sure enough, it was. It was, in essence, a lump of concrete with some metal rods sticking out of it, with a smaller lump and rod at the end to serve as a handle.

“I found a few of the solders off duty betting who could pick it up. I don’t think any of them did, but I would think you could.”

I picked it up. It was heavy, heavier than anything else on the cart, but with two arms it was far easier. I gave it a little swing, and was surprised at how much control over it I had.

And there in lies the question.

“Why?”

Charnel just shrugged and chomped on her cigar. “You don’t have anything to swing. I would like my messengers to be well armed.”

Well, so much for generosity. “Thanks, Charnel.”

She just grinned nastily. “No problem, minotaur.”

We both just gazed at each other with mutual false appreciation. I saw a few random guards give us strange looks, but they quickly went back to what they were doing once it clicked that it was Charnel they were whispering about.

Eventually, without saying anything, the black mare turned away and slowly trotted back into her domain.

Blueberry sighed, and poked me in the shoulder.

“Watchful, lets go. And take the hunk of rebar she gave you as well.”

Apparently, the camp was farther in the city than I thought it was. More importantly, the locals were slightly worse off than I first thought they were.

The few that we passed looked filthy, and they all tried to avoid us as we walked pass them. One young mare was missing a leg, while a stallion had a…appendage sticking out of one of his torsos. Yes, one of his torsos. When I mentioned my growing concerns about our safety to Blueberry, she just chuckled.

“Watchful, this entire town is a tribalistic dump. Just keep walking and don’t make eye contact.”

And I did.

And I did for what was probably a few good minutes.

And then Blueberry poked me for the second time that day.

“Hey, Watchful, wanna listen to my radio while your walking? I think I might doze off in a few minutes. ”

I had forgotten about that thing.

“Ehh, why not.”

Blueberry sighed. “Hey, Watchful?”

“Yes?” I asked.

“You might be the only friend I have right now. I just want you to know that.” She said softly.

“Thank you, Blueberry.” I lied shamelessly.

Blueberry let out an even heavier sigh.

“Thanks, Watchful.”

The next few moments were understandably weird for the both of us. Finally, Blueberry broke the silence.

“Going to turn the volume down low so that the ponies don’t get agitated. Good night, hopefully.”

I heard a clicking noise and a burst of static. To my surprise, a scratchy, feminine voice came up from the radio, accompanied by bombastic music that sounded like large chunks of metal being slammed against each other.

“Heeeelllooooo Taaaauuurrrooonnnttttooooo! It is I, your alllllmmmmmiggggggtttty dark god!”

I felt the blood freeze in my veins, which quickly thawed when I heard riotous laughter.

“Oh gosh, did I really just…heh. Phahaaahahaha! Oh goddesses, did I actually…on air! I wish I had cameras! Oh, is this what those....heh.”

I was not sure if I could laugh at the “joke”.

“Anyway, ponies of the wasteland, I am proud to say that today, on this very day, DJ Nightcore can be heard outside our dear old city! That’s right, the good folks in the N. C. R. have fixed the old station in Braymont and got the transmitter working, and now my sick beats can be heard as far west as Dis! Our local slice of Pa-ra-dise! This calls for a formal introduction, but that can be done with an early morning broadcast, right everypony?”

The sound of cheering ponies echo from the radio, followed by what was probably Blueberry snoring.

“Anyway, folks, time for our regular weekly news update! And it’s a big one this time folks. As it turns out, one of the members of the Reaver Movement was captured by the Purebreds. Now, for those not aware of Taurontoian political naggy-gaggying, this basically means any pony walking the wrong way is going to die even faster than usual.”

Before I could even wonder what that meant, the radio continued on.

“Anyway, speaking of ghouls, the annual Nightmare Night celebration is coming soon, and that means a lot of nice stuff coming in from our dead friends in the city. However, it’s been delayed thanks to the ghoulnapping stunt the Purebreds pulled off. So if you see one of them, give them a dirty look. I know you want good booze as much as I do, friends.”

The voice paused slightly. What was a "Nightmare Night", anyway?

“Anyway, besides that, the cult in Tauronto General has gone silent. No one has seen anypony enter or leave the building for days. Usually, the Scions would have gone on one of there recruiting sprees by now, but the lack of activity is probably a bad sign. Anypony who wants free handouts should probably avoid the place for now.”

Huh, a cult. Weird.

“Speaking of strange cults, a dead Steel Ranger was found near the Knock. Again, it’s a mystery, but this one might involve rocket launchers. Anypony who is too young to remember what the Rangers here were like are very, very lucky. This could be bad, frankly. For the bounty hunters out there, the Reavers are still offering a lot of caps for any live Ranger brought in with proof of there membership.”

Well, that’s not good.

“Speaking of the old collage campus, a group of ponies raided the place a few weeks ago and apparently knocked down an old magical shield in one of the main buildings. Now, folks, I only know this because of one of the few survivors talked to me about it. He’s not entirely certain what he has seen, either. This is probably another case of haunting, if you want to call it that.”

The voice on the radio (Nightcore?) sighed, and I remembered the irradiated pony we met on the road. Well, I suppose he might have been telling the truth.

“Ponies, I would suggest you stick to your own dwellings for the next week or two. It’s bad when you start reminiscing about the raider gangs. At least Carron and Blackhorn kept their gang wars in the old Maple Leaf arena. I am sorry that I have to say this, my ponies, but I would try and stay out of the limelight for now. Getting noticed now will get you shot faster than ever before.”

Yeash, what a wonderful place to live.

“Oh, wait! One more thing, and it’s a doozy. I am sure everypony knows the legends about the Crystal Empire, right?”

I keep hearing that name. I feel like I am the only being north of Canterlot know does not know what it is.

“Silly question, right? Well, everypony, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that the radiation coming from the place has not gotten noticeably worse. The bad news is, according to the last group of ponies who managed to get that far north; a Balefire Dragon has gotten loose and is flying south.”

Well, that just sounds like a thing from my nightmares. At least it’s not a Giant Balefire Dragon, or a Cyborg Balefire Dragon, or a Stealth-Cloaked Balefire Dragon. I mean, and then I should really start panicking. I mean, what?

Wait, radiation can get worse?

“Now, before you all start screaming and head for someplace possibly safer, like Canterlot, I would like you all to know that those beasts rarely get anywhere close to the city limits. Despite what others say, there are ponies up there that can deal with monsters like that.

Anyway, my little ponies, I just want you all to know that this is not the worst week in Tauronto history. But I would suggest that anypony heading up here should stay away from city limits for now. I know this is not going to win me any popularity contests, but I would like to think that this place is safer than others in the wasteland. If anything, I would like to think I am keeping ponies from getting killed.

Nightcore, out. We are going to have a silent night tonight, to remind everypony that we need to work together to make this place better. Love and tolerance and all that.”

With another buzz, the radio went quiet.

Well, that was informative, if incredibly confusing. Bah, it’s unlikely to be useful until we get to the place anyway. Blueberry probably needs to know about the Purebreds, or Pure or whatever, being less than appreciated in the city.

Pushing that into the back of my mind, I try and focus on the task at hand. Braymont looked even more depressing at night, even more so when we were nearly out of the limits of the town. The buildings sagged and resembled rotting trees, and to make it worse it seemed like the ponies in the area just sat out in the cold and huddled around bonfires outside. There was at least a dozen flickering fires out on the street, with small strange shapes shifting around them weirdly.

The worst part was that I was getting tired of pulling.

And so, I poked Blueberry in the forehead, taking a bit of relish in her confusion.

“Bwah?” she said intelligently.

“Wakey wakey, Blueberry.”

She just pouted. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Watchful, why? I was sleeping. It was a nice sleep, too.”

I just gave a winning smile.” It is dark, it’s cold, and I am tired. Time to pull your weight around here.”

It took her a few moments to get the joke in her daze.

“Oh, hah hah. Why do you need my help, anyway?”

I rolled my eyes. “Blueberry, the ponies here would probably try and shoot me if I came up to them. You, on the other hand, might be the least threatening thing in the wasteland.”

She apparently did not get that joke, considering she just smiled. “Well, I guess that’s reasonable. Just don’t do anything that could get us killed.”

I just nodded and smiled, hoping that Blueberry was going to stick to her own words.

It took us a few moments to find a place we could stay for the night. Really, we didn't like the idea of sleeping alone, and as it was it seemed like there was a tribe of ponies moving through the town, if the camp sites ringing the outer fringes of the town were anything.

The camp we chose to “sit in” was one of the farthest out in the town, near the edge of it. More importantly, it was also the biggest we had seen and had the largest fire. There were at least a dozen ponies around the thing, and going by the smell in the air, they were cooking pork.

Speaking of food, it was only when Blueberry began munching on a food-bar when I realized I had not eaten since we saw the tank. I wasn’t hungry, either, but I took one as well.

While stewing over that little fact, Blueberry trotted over to the ponies around the bonfire, Self Defense in tow. While I was first slightly concerned when the apparent leader, a big white buck, had a spear in his mouth while talking with her, she eventually waved me over to bring the cart to it.

The camp itself looked odd. There were at least a dozen sleeping bags and cots around the fire, and the whole place was ringed by wooden boards with everything to weapons, plates, drinking glasses and more. There was even what looked like a pile of cloths, suitably far away from the fire.

Even more to my genuine surprise, I was greeted with smiles and chuckles. Apparently, the ponies around the fire were a family, and less than half of them were actually adults. In fact, going from the fact they were actually clothed and looked well fed, I doubted they were locals at all, even more so considering that they seemed happy to see visitors. While I first thought I was going to stay quiet, a mare with greenish-brown fur actually attempted to talk to me without using any expletives.

“Hey there sonny, you from here?” Going by her smile and the chuckled from her peers, it was supposed to be a funny joke. I forced a laugh.

“Nope. Came up here from the west.”

She raised an eyebrow. “West? You sure don’t act like one of them minotaur’s from there. You don’t have a spear with you or anything.”

Well, that went downhill pretty quickly. “I am not from that group, but rather from a settlement near it. Its a few days travel from Braymont.”

She smiled, showing every rotten tooth she had, which were few. “Oh! I’m sorry, sonny! You must be a pride to your people then!”

Aaannnd then the awkwardness became palatable in the air. I just smiled and nodded, and she and her friends just laughed slightly and continued to eat some of the stew from little bowls. Blueberry chatted with them a bit, and she told them a decently accurate story, albeit one in which I had a life-debt to her and her name was Blue Bombshell. While I was stifling a laugh, I noticed one of the foals looking at me oddly, and I smiled at him. He gave a little gasp and huddled behind what might have been her mother. I was not sure if I was insulted or not.

Neverless, the general chat was rather informative. Apparently, considering that buildings here were too unstable to risk living in, there tribe lived on the outer fringes of the town, constantly wandering around the general area here and living off what they could trade or scavenge. When Blueberry mentioned that they could just leave, they became eerily quiet and that was quickly dropped. Yet, the ponies kept looking at Blueberry oddly, but considering they did not say anything I suppose we were still in the safe zone.

And so, over the night, the conversations become sporadic and less involved as more of the foals went to sleep in little cots, then followed by there possible parents, and so on and so on. I tried to remain distant from the little group, which worked wonderfully. I noticed Blueberry kept giving me concerned looks, but I assumed it was because of the general weirdness of the ponies we decided to join with. I frankly expected them to want something in return for us using there fire, but I supposed that we have actually found some decent ponies in the wasteland.

However, when a grey stallion carrying what looked like a bucket of water came into view, Blueberry quickly took a strange interest in him.

“Hey, where did you get that?”

The stallion, understandably surprised at the new arrivals to his family gathering, looked at Blueberry for a few short moments, and then at the sleeping forms of his family. Finally, as if getting a cue from his sleeping comrades, he gave a winning, diplomatic smile.

He spoke in an oddly stifled way, as if his mouth was not used to forming full sentences. “There is a place called an aquarium that has a lot of water that never freezes. It’s down the road, and it’s not as irradiated as the water you get from snow.”

Blueberry looked highly interested by that, but I was not sure why.

“The sounds nice.”

The stallion quickly shakes his head. “No its not. It is haunted. Spirits live there.”

Blueberry, after a few moments of thought, smiled broadly. Hopefully is was genuine. “Okay then.”

The stallion, seemingly relived, went near the sleeping form of the green mare and lied down next to her.

As it turns out, the grey pony with the weird voice was the last one standing, besides Blueberry. I was about to warm my arms for one last time before heading to the cart to snuggle under the blanket we had before Blueberry hissed at me.

“Watchful, we are leaving now!”

I was mildly confused, but intrigued, sparing a glance at the grey pony who was standing a couple of feet away from the fire, facing south.. “Why? We just got here and we both are tired! Besides, they seem nice enough.”

She looked furious and spooked, and just pointed at the fire pit, which by now was just barely flickering. However, near the large brass pot, I noticed some interesting pieces of wood. Wood that was clearly not wood, or related to plants for that matter. Plants, for example, do not have eye sockets. Or hooves. Also, animals tend not to have a gold tooth or two in there mouths.

I looked at the stew pot, beginning to become queasy. Well, this explains the hospitality. My chubby companion could feed a family of four, easy.

Blueberry just continued to glare at me, and looked at the sleeping forms of the pony-eating ponies around us. Even so, I hope she did not start yelling. I did not want to deal with a bunch of ponies, evil ones or not. “I am not edible!”

No shit, Blueberry.

Attempting to get my mind off a food-related death, I decided to appeal to Blueberries scavenging tendencies. “Blueberry, want to see what’s in that aquarium?”

She stared at me, eyes softening. Oh, bless her strange little head. “Yeah, I guess. Actually, speaking of that, we could see if there is a functioning water talisman in the place.”

Well, that made sense. I guess. Wait, what’s a aquarium?

Reading my thoughts, apparently, was just one of Blueberry’s many talents.

“They were a sort of zoo that had fish in them, Watchful. If this one is producing water, that means that this one was advanced enough to survive two hundred years of nopony around to care for it. It would have a lot of magically hardened glass and stuff, so it should not be a tetanus-causing hellhole."

Well, that sounded good, I guess. I wondered what two hundred years of radiation could do to a bunch of fish, but I kept that niggling thought out of my head.

Nodding slightly, we both quietly snuffled over to the cart, leaving the possibly inbred friendly cannibals behind us to go to the possibly haunted water-filled ruin that said cannibals frequented often.

Frankly, at this rate, going by the radio’s news, the N.C.R’s existence, and the fact that we were in the middle of a rotting town filled with mutant tribal cannibals, Fillydelphia is starting to sound nice.

With those depressing thoughts in mind, I kept walking into the night, Blueberry's horn making ghostly light to show my path.

Seahorse

“Huh. It’s big.”

Understatement of the century, Blueberry.

The “Seahorse Aquarium”,as a rotten sign boldly proclaimed in dirty yellow script, was a three-story tall pillarish building easily larger than any single structure I had seen before and even more ramshackle looking. The entire commune, rock face and all could easily be put in it with some room to grow, and the whole thing looked like it was made of rotten cardboard and shattered glass.

Speaking of rotting things, I smelt the place before I saw it, as it had a large outdoor area that probably used to be a pool, and filled with what probably used to be fish. Blueberry dreaded to use her horn to illuminate any more than she had to, and I was somewhat thankful for that. The whole place looked creepy enough with Blueberries half-dozen "mage lights" being the only lighting, and even more so when it became quickly apparent that, going by the amount of stuff covering the entrance of the place, nothing has actually entered the place in some time. Seems like the local's stories about not going inside it might have been true.

The important thing, however, was that there was still a trickle of water filling the shallow, filthy pool from some unseen source, so the fish must have died off recently because of the cold. Blueberry quite nearly bounced in joy when she heard running water, sluggish as it was, and I was glad that I did not pull a cart full of goods for three hours just to go to a filthy, useless ruin.

I got to go into a filthy, useless ruin with a water talisman in it.

But that raised more questions from me.

I scratched my head, right in the spot between my horns. It helped with thinking, at least for me anyway. “Blueberry, I just want your opinion.”

She actually tilted her head at that, as if she was surprised I actually had one about anything. “About what?”

“What if those ponies are mutated because they are drinking the water they bring in from this place?”

She looked surprised, and then visibly pondered the thought. “I guess radiation would have killed them by now, but that’s an odd thing to say. Why do you think it’s the water from here, anyway? Could come from anywhere.”

I shrugged. I thought it was obvious. “The pony said the water here was safer than the snow, right? I don’t think irradiation would cause ponies to be that mutated, but-”

“Taint could.” Blueberry finished my sentence, and then became slightly flushed. “Okay, you might have a point. Still, even if it’s a corrupted talisman, it could still go for a lot of caps if we take it.”

“Or it could kill the town.” I said.

Blueberry raised an eyebrow.

“What? It’s clear those ponies are gone for good. If this could stop ponies from resorting to eating each other, it would be nice.”

Blueberry raised both eyebrows. “My my, someone wants to be a hero.”

I was surprised at that. “What do you mean?”

Blueberry sighed, and I swore the mage-light she was making grew dimmer. “Watchful, some ponies just end up like that. Those cannibals in Braymont? It’s probably not something in the water here that makes them crazy. Some ponies are crazy, and nothing can really change that. It’s a lifestyle for some. You saw those foals sleeping in that little camp. They won’t fit in anywhere else, and I doubt any pony would let them live after learning they regularly eat ponies.”

I stared at Blueberry for what felt like centuries. I wondered if she remembered what happened at the NCR camp? That would be a convenient thing to forget...

In order to get myself out of that funk, I started to try and get any conversation topics out in the air. “Blueberry,could you get one of your lights closer to the water?”

When she did, I got a glimpse at what might have been in the pool at one time, half mummified by the cold. It might have had a fish in its family tree at some point or another, but it had too many mouths and not enough eye sockets.

Blueberry quickly let the light dim, looking slightly queasy. “Okay, it’s probably Tainted.”

I looked around the entrance. Luckily, there was a solid-looking concrete walkway over the probably horrific pool of possibly mutating death.

"So we are going into a place that is literally filled with water to get something that produces said horrible water."

She just nodded her head, unsure about the whole thing now herself.

Feeling slightly guilty, for some unfathomable reason, I thought of something I thought she might find funny.

“Hey Blueberry, you think the pony was right about this place being haunted?” I said in a somewhat joking manner.

She gave a little shrug. “No idea. Normally, I would say no. All the ponies this far north are usually superstitious, especially when they are degenerates like the ones we just met. But this place...I don’t know.”

Well, that was...not helpful at all. “Why do you think this place is different?”

She gave a little shiver, and I doubt it was from the cold. “Call it a unicorn’s intuition, or something. This place gives me a bad vibe.”

I gave a heavy snort. “Oh, is it the lighting or the color scheme?”

She gave me a little glare, and I chuckled. I stopped when I realized she kept glaring at me, her eyes practically flashing red as she apparently tried to ignite me using her mind.

“Don’t make fun of my magic!”

Wait, what?

“Blueberry, I was not making fun of your magic! Why would I do that?”

She looked more annoyed by the minute. “You were! You were making fun of its color!”

I raised my arms in protest, and if it not for the unholy cold we were in, I would have probably began to sweat. Hopefully she was not going to freak out and turn off the lights or anything. Or worse, try to kill me. If she was in one of her shooty moods....

Wait! Idea!

“Blueberry, we should probably get our stuff from the cart before we go inside that place.”

The fuming little mare’s gaze softens unnaturally into a big, grateful grin and playfully smacked the side of her head with a hoof. “Oh, your right! Heh, and I was about to walk in and...oh, how could I forget something like that? ”

Huh, that worked. Ponies really do have one tracked minds, or at least Blueberry does.

And that begs the question about how much control over Blueberry I actually have.

I think I had a answer, but I didn't like it.

The innards of the Seahorse Aquarium was as bad as it looked from outside, or at least that was our first thoughts. Giant displays that I would suppose would have hanged from the ceiling had since fallen, creating the horrific first impression of a giant rotting whale in the middle of the main lobby. The broken glass was as sharp as it was old, and I heard Blueberry wince every time she felt a shard shatter under her weight. Any decorations or wooden objects had long since crumbled, leaving a pulpy mess that left no clues on floor plans or anything of the sort. The shear amount of decay in the place made determining anything’s original color a futile exercise, and the smell was akin to fishy mildew.

It was horrible, especially at night with ghostly lights provided by a crazy unicorn being the only way to see. The resulting shadow-play would be enough to unnerve anyone who saw it, let alone a couple of inbred cannibals. It was understandable why it was called haunted, anyway.

However, for whatever reason, there were no open doors, or at least any I could open in sight. The main set in the back of the room, big and bulky things that had the remnants of some cheery sea-themed pattern emblazoned on it, were nigh fused to the floor and would not budge after a few good swings from my alleged mace. Or a blast from a laser pistol. Or a genuine charge from an annoyed minotaur, which resulted in a dazed me and a slightly dented set of doors.

I could swear one of the cheery little schools of fish painted on the floor was laughing at my efforts.

Blueberry was as annoyed as I was, but she had a more...fitting way of expressing it as she punched at the cursed thing futilely.

“Why would they need fucking hermetically sealed doors in a stupid, glorified, zoo! What were they expecting, evil penguin uprisings!”

In fact, while Blueberry was having a little fit of treasure-denial, I noticed something on the wall I did not see before: a little knob of brass, obscured by the false whale’s tail. After slowly making my way there and seeing the little lock on the door, I sighed and pulled the knob. Most of the door came with it.

Revealed to me was... a janitorial closet, abet one with a tiny working light bulb. Cleaning supplies on half-rotten shelves, a few nasty looking piles of things that probably used to be magazines, and a...set of bones. I took a little shaky breath when I saw the remains, but when I looked at the table it was sprawled on I quickly grew pleased.

Bless old folk and there stubborn self-reliance.

Besides a corpse, the table had a tiny working terminal, a few score bits in a little pile, what looked like a paper with some numbers written on it, and the mother load: a large map that resembled the ruined one’s we had found in the lobby, but brightly colored and what looked like notes and annotations in a neat, clear script. Actually, it wasn’t so much a map as a floor plan, which was even better.

I took a moment to look at the remains on the table, and found two little objects under (inside?) the skull which caught my interest. The first one explained the body’s relatively untouched state: a plain six-shooter, unadorned of any markings or signs of damage. The second one made me slightly wince, as it was a colorless picture of what was probably body’s owner with what looked like to be a family. A scruffy stallion had a leg over the shoulder of a lithe mare that looked half his age, and there was a tiny little foal balanced happily on his head. The little inscription at the bottom of it nailed the scene in the head.

Sweeps, Glitter, and Gleam, at the Seahorse. Sea you Soon!

I took a step back, and after a few moments at looking at the little snapshot of a pony’s life I could never fully understand, I slipped the picture under the stallions fleshless head gently. After a few moments of thought, I slipped the gun into my belt. The map slid easily off the table, and to my surprise the terminal had two options:

Unlock Main Doors

Shut Down H1

The second one made no sense, but the first? That was simple enough choice.

Enter

The grind-hiss sound coming from the lobby, followed by Blueberries shocked squeals, was enough to let me know that the main doors were opening.

After carefully taking most of the objects off the table, and carefully covering the bodies head with the cleanest cloth on the floor, I walked over to the newly made entrance and looked at what was behind the oversized doors.

And I felt my mouth slowly drop open.

And open some more.

It was not because of the hallway’s seemingly spotless floors, or that the fact the place still looked as if the world never ended at all.

It was not because the glass walls and ceiling was the only barrier between me and who knows how many of gallons of murky grey-brown water.

It was not because of the glowing shapes moving around in the water, stirring it up as they created colorful golden trails in the water.

It was none of those, but the rad-fish helped a bit.

It was the light green mare who was looking at us with deep blue eyes from the other side of the glass, with a long, dark serpentine shape where her lower body should have been, giving us a savage little smile with far too many teeth.

Author's Note

Sho Sho Be Doom!

What's Eating Blueberry Cream?

I knew what I was looking at, technically. It was a pony with a fish tail and a mouth of sharp teeth on the far side of the room, behind a wall of glass. However, the reality of the situation and the breach in general common sense it displayed made me stop for a moment.

I also saw it give us a little wave with a mottled-looking hoof and effortlessly dived backwards into the filthy water, possibly just to screw with us. The unholy sight of the actual aquarium was not helping my mental state, either.

Then again, since when have I been concerned with my own mental state?

I have a little pony to look after, apparently.

“Blueberry?”

The little mare did not move from her spot. Her left eye was twitching slightly, and I swore Self Defense was shifting slightly in its holster.

Which was impossible, of course, because her horn was not glowing. Right? Unicorn horns glow when they use magic, right?

“Watchful, we can either say the locals were right and get out of here, or we can admit that we just saw a giant fish pony and go inside this place.” she said shakily.

I did not like either option, frankly. “If it is a haunting, it’s a weird one. And I don’t think that a fish pony could live outside its tank. And we are already here.”

To my genuine surprise, she accepted that. “So, I suggest you go inside first.”

I gave her my most disapproving glare, and dutifully followed.

At times like this, I wondered if my father was right about me needing to grow a spine. But what was I going to do, punt Blueberry into the glass wall that’s a small crack away from disaster?

Speaking of halls and walls, both were ominously clean and the latter actually squeaked as I walked on the pearly-white tile. However, it was the contents of the tanks that got my attention. While the bottoms portions were covered in a brown mat of unknowable filth, the actual fish were somewhat eye-catching, considering the glowing trails they made. I tried to get a good look at one, which I did, unfortunately.

When I glimpsed the first row of glazed dinner plate-sized eyes on one specimen, my legs gave out under me for whatever reason and I hit the floor on my back. It might have been because I was that terrified. Curse whatever part of me that could be considered part goat.

Blueberries squealed, and nearly slide on the ground to do her best to help me up. She gave a quick glance to the tank, saw the contents of it, and gave me the horrified look package, with shrunken irises and all.

“Hey Blueberry,” I said weakly, “It’s probably Taint.”

She said nothing; as she was too busy checking my head to make sure it was not cracked open. It didn’t feel like it, but the bases of my horns felt like they were splitting open.

“Oh Goddesses, are you okay?”

With help from my trusty block of rebar, I managed to get back up on my hooves. “Yes, I think I am. Pretty sure, anyway.”

She looked relived, in any case, which was a good sign. “Okay, that’s good.“

We stood for a few moments in the morbid hallway, desperately trying to avoid looking at the tanks and failing miserably.

Blueberry pointed a leg at my belt. “Watchful, is that a map?”

I patted it with a free hand. “Yeah, it is. Found it in the janitor’s closet, same place where the controls for the door are.”

She gave a little huff of annoyance. “Well, let’s see it! If we are going in here, we should know where we should go so we can get out of this dump!”

Well then.

“You could be nicer, Blueberry.”

She smirked at me at first, but then frowned. “Sorry. I must seem like a jerk.”

I said nothing, but set down my club and rolled the map on the floor. Considering she was closer to it, Blueberry took the liberty of examining it.

“Okay, we are here.” she said, pointing a hoof to on of the far edges of the map. “And the main water system is....huh.” She slid her hoof to one of the center squares. “It’s on the basement, but you have to go through the gift shop into the shark....oh, well the only entrance to the basement is near the shark tanks.”

Well, golly.

She saw my expression, and grinned. “Oh, what’s the matter? Afraid the sea pony will get you?”

“Blueberry, it’s big and probably is some sort of immortal mutant. And probably has some freaky mutant powers.”

Wait a moment, something doesn’t make sense.

“Blueberry, how are these fish still alive, and how did some get outside?”

She looked at the map a little closer, and grinned widely. “Oh, this is really cool! This whole aquarium is one big nest of tunnels and gate systems, and all the main displays are connected to it. That’s probably how some fish got outside. No idea how they are still alive, though it’s probably mutations or something. This whole place is a giant maze of pipes and redundant parts, like a stable for fish.”

I thought for a moment. “Does this mean that our sea pony friend can be anywhere at any time?”

She froze up, gave a quick look at the wall, and shuddered. “Possibly, yeah. Let’s not think about that right now, okay? Let’s get the water talisman and get out as quickly as we can.”

I gave her a big grin and rested my club on my shoulders. “Okay.”

To be fair, once we got past the whole “surrounded by horrible taint mutants and kept from ending up as one of them by an inch of magically enhanced glass” thing, we had to admit the Seahorse was rather interesting.

The whole place was deathly quiet, for one, and if you tried to ignore the actual things inside the tank they were rather neat to look at. Blueberry said that the fish in there might be making some bio-luminescence, or whatever that means, but she had no idea why they would create it in the first place.

We also passed what seemed to be the penguin exhibit, and to Blueberries mild mortification the entire area was trashed, with the glass walls smashed in and no signs of the actual flightless birds in sight. Until, of course, we got into the next walk in aquarium section, where we stumbled upon the torn-up remains of giant white-colored dissected corpses that strangly resembled the penguin body structure modals we passed by a few minutes earlier. Considering the rest of the displays in this part of the building was also destroyed and filled with dead fish and pesudopenguins alike, I could only wonder how long the giant birds lasted after the end of the world.

Blueberry, however, did not, and after realizing what she was looking at moved began trotting at a faster pace than usual. Actually, her single comment was on how the water flow probably shut down when the tank was compromised, and that she was impressed at how smart the systems in this place was. I had to agree.

The next rooms did not let us down in oddities. Luckily for our eyes, most of the tanks were not as disgusting as the first one was, but many of the things inside them were still odd. One incredibly colorful room, the “Foals Play and Pet”, had a large thin open-air tank that, while dry, had oddly shaped shells in its contours that probably once belonged to some mutant fish or another. In the same general area, there was also another similar tank that was still filled with water with a stylized manta ray on its side, but to our general horror it was mostly filled with the bones of some sort of horrible flat monstrosity that was covered with mouths.

After a pass down a greenish-gold hallway filled with glowing water labeled "Jellyfish Jungle", we found ourselves in a rather badly lit exhibit called “Terrors of the Deep”; with no little information booth in site or anything that could clue us in to what was in it. Naturally, this made me feel rather intimidated, and even more so when we were confronted with another underwater underpass that either had no lighting at all or was filled with completely black water.

Blueberry gulped slightly and sent a mage-light down it, which showed that it was likely the former than the latter, considering that it showed that every bit of the glass on the aquarium side was covered in a rather horrific organic mat of dead fish and pyramid-like grey pink things that were attached to the the side of the tank with suckers that looked horribly like round, toothy maws. After getting her to stop screaming and trying to run in the other direction, I covered her eyes with a hand as she walked closely next to me in the darkened hall.

However, I got a scare of my own, as apparently some joker two hundred years ago believed it to be a good idea to put a lifelike model of a sea-serpent situated right after the scary dark tunnel of deep-sea horror above unsuspecting ponies.

After I stopped screaming, Blueberry decided to alert me of the fact that we were on our second to last leg of the trip to the shark room: the Antlerlantic Ocean exhibit. Surprisingly, the displays seemed to have been taken over in ages past by a strange species of mutant worm, each with a little strand of worm-hair-stuff that constantly shifted colors as it swam around in the tanks. It was an oddly heartwarming sight, which became only slightly less so when Blueberry informed me that, according to one of the little plaques, colorful sea creatures tended to by highly toxic. I then pointed behind her and said “Seapony!”, so she stopped trying to ruin my enjoyment and started to hyperventilate and pulled out Self Defense.

I briefly wondered for a moment if teasing a sociopathic pony was a good idea, settled on that it wasn’t, and went on with my life.

The only other thing of note in the exhibit, besides the giant heart-attack causing serpent and the colorful fish, was the octopus tanks inhabitance. Or rather the lack of them.

There were two, actually. One that supposedly contained “Octi the Octopus” was actually empty of water, the reason for which quickly became apparently by the large missing chunk of glass in its side and the shattered glass on the floor, which suggested something broke out of the tank. But the hole was perfectly round to the point it looked like it was artificially made.

Yet another mystery for this place I hope I never have to delve into. The second was unlabeled, but was startlingly clear and had a single disturbingly large shifting black ball floating freely in the center of it, roiling like a tiny inky tempest in the middle of it’s own little world. I also could swear I spotted a goat eye on it for a split second. After alerting Blueberry about the minor horror in the center of the room, she took a quick look at it, paled, and followed me out into the last leg of the trip.

And so, we were confronted with two choices: an official looking room with the word “Management” on it and another, far more cheery looking, with the words “Shark Land” on it. I wanted to check the former while she was more interested in going straight into the latter.

Of course, we disagreed on which one to go into.

However, we both went inside Management first, mostly because we were not stupid enough to split up in this hell hole but also because I was at least three times her size.

The main office, I guess you could call it, was far less cheery than the rest of the building would suggest. It had five desks on each wall, but luckily for my interests there was a single large one in the very back with a large, blue-green terminal.

The walk there was brief, but to my minor horror it seemed that the former owner had died curled under it.

The little name-plate on the desk read “Service Head Pearl String”. I looked at the slightly preserved corpse under the desk, tiny and shriveled and grey, and then, still slightly shocked, at Blueberry. To my own minor disgust, the rest of the desks seemed to have been occupied in there own special way, which Blueberry was solving in her own special way. The crunches and snapping sounds of dried limbs being pried off the floor in search of things to take reminded all to much of Emerald Seas, which while in a entirely different context made the currant situation I had managed to get myself in all the more darkly funny.

Apparently, according to the terminal’s notes, Pearl was there since day one, but most of the files and notices were deleted before the big end. I opened them in order with deft little finger clicks, and what I got was pretty surprising.

Entry 24
Look Coin, I don’t make the rules. I did not fire Topaz because she was a Crystal Pony. No, the rumor that I called her a Crystalite was false and cruel. I fired her because I caught her complaining about the stuff the big Ministry-Tauronto alliance was giving us. You know, those fancy automated systems they cooked up and want to test out. Apparently, they are going to be used in Stables or whatever they call them down south.

Anyway, Topaz was blabbering about it off to a bunch of collage ponies that were visiting. Besides, the little mule had it coming to her, she never came to work one time and the only reason I could not fire her before hoof was because of those protection laws they cooked up a few years ago.

Entry 25
Coin, I am sorry, I had no idea your fiancée was a donkey. No, really, I had no idea. Look, we have been friends for a long time, I meant nothing by it. It’s just a saying they have in Equestria, I thought you would have known it. Look, let’s go out to eat some time. It's been a while.

Anyway, business is booming since they installed the new system. We had to let go of the polar bears to get it installed over the last month, but old Bearnard said that he had enough saved up from work that he could get the rest of them a train ticket to Ursagrod. A lot of the older staff pinched in as well, and apparently some pony started to make little white teddy bears to sell in the gift shop. Of course, it was a hit, and his going-away party was actually management-approved to the point the big boss himself attended and shook each of there paws himself. We had not gotten so many ponies come in since, well, the grand opening.

I doubt the silly old bear will have to work again in his life, and neither will his family.

Besides that bittersweet news, our new full time staff member, Sea Salt, has put me in a really tough situation. First of all, she’s a brilliant worker to the point I am only half joking when I say I once suspected her of being in Moral’s payroll. I have gotten little crayon drawings from foals in the art classes of her playing with the fish and getting Octi to dance a jig. She even works overtime without pay. In fact, Sweeps, our janitor (he’s the one with the wife who looks like one of Hoity Toity's models, as you once said), said she was working in the middle of the night trying to get the penguins to sing.

And they were.

In the middle of the night.

I don’t even think she goes home sometimes. And she’s young and perky and possibly a zebra plant.

No, she’s not some sort of magical herb, a genuine zebra infiltrator. Some sort of zebra spy. I caught her reading some sort of strange book during lunch, and while she was as happy as ever, she said it was on the zebras and there culture. The thing is, it was not in Equestrian. Not at all. It was in some sort of weird swirly font, if it was really machine-produced. I don’t want to say anything, in case she is actually reading some sort of foreign-language translation book about zebras. She does have an odd accent and I don’t want to press in my employs lives.

Also, say hello to Jenny for me. Also, stop telling me that it's 'their', not 'there'. I mean, really.

Entry 32
Okay, I actually got Sea Salt to come to the traditional staff bi-monthly get together down in that little pub in Braymont (Sweeps assisted somewhat with his donation on the traditional lips-loosener, I need to buy him a drink one day). Thankfully, the mare cannot hold her salt despite her name, and when I asked where she was from she said she was one of those Saddle Arabian immigrants who came up from the southeast. She actually brought a little red translation booklet with her, and as it turns out it was a Sadryn-Roaman Zebrish text. I had no idea she was in college, either. She’s on that foreigner program that the College of Tauronto has, but she’s doing great at it and has time to spend here.

Gosh, I feel old sometimes, Coin.

However, as it turns out, one of our more blunt staff members, whose name I shall leave out but rhymes with “Hunches of Totes” decided to ask her why she moved so far north to live in Tauronto.

She started to cry and blubber about why her mother was a broodmare running for roses in Derby City and she deserved to be punished for not helping her father get a passport. Sweet Celestia, the things this war has done to us. All of us.

To make a sad story short, me and Sweeps managed to get her home, which was thankfully in one of the nicer parts of town.

Anyway, Coin, last night’s party was great, and I would love your advice on what to do about the little snitch in accounting who said that company bits kept going missing when I got control of them .

There was a great gap in the files: it seems that all but the last few were deleted over time.

Entry 369
It’s the end, Coin. I know you and Jenny bought a lot of tickets for that Stable, goddesses know how you could afford them being cousins with Rich, but I am stuck in the Seahorse. It’s an “off” day, so only management is here in order to get everything in order. I have not told any pony but Sweeps about the news about Cloudsdale. Figures they hit an Equestrian city first, but of course we are only targets because of those little fucking Crystalites.

There, I said it. It’s the end of the world, no reason to hide it.

Speaking of warnings, do you know who came and visited me earlier? Topaz. She visited me in the morning, waiting for me outside the Seahorse near the pool. She said bad things were going down, and that I should try and find a safe place.

Coin Counter, those sparkling shits were in on it the entire time. Six hours later, Cloudsdale was blown to bits. They fucking knew. That bitch is probably sipping wine right now with princess what’s her name and her umpteenth foal. But I don’t want my last words to be about some fucking little sparkleponies that shit gems and whine about the power of hugs and friendship while they wine and dine.

Entry 370
I should have kicked her into the shark tank when I had the chance. I wonder if they really do have crystal bones?

Entry 371
Anyway.

Entry 372
I ordered Sweeps to take a crow bar to the water generator thing we got installed when the place got the Stable-Tec treatment and to lock it up tight when he got outside. He knows that Glimmer and Gleam are with you, and there tickets are already in order. Don’t tell her that he has his gun with him. I told Sea Salt to stay downstairs with all the rad-away and the actual emergency supply rations. I led the horse to the water. Hah. I made a pun.

Entry 373
Sorry if this last part seems weird, I crushed some of those colorful sea worms, the ones that are supposed to be super deadly and stuff, and sprinkled the powder in the coffee filter. I have traditional office claims to the first cup. I don’t want any pony to go through this.

Entry 374
Sea Salt is the only one who does not have a few cups in the morning, as funny as it is with her being from where we get coffee beans now, so there’s also that. She should live through the end, anyway.

Entry 375
You know, it’s funny. When we were in school together, I always thought you were cute.

Entry 376
Really. I did. Even when we broke up. And then when we got back together, but you found math to be a better lover than me. And then, after school, you moved on to other couples.Tell me, how's Onyx? You got lucky there, with the whole "child support" thing with what's her name, Good for you, you would think he could have figured it out by now. You are the only stallion with pink fur that he knows, so he probably thinks you lick colts for giggles.

Entry 377
The staff is starting to feel weird now. I think I am the only one still on four hooves, so I am about to eat half the paste I made from those worms. I heard that the Zebras once used them to poison there weapons, but I think it would work to kill a mare.

I feel sick.

I don’t think I regret anything at all, really. Is that so wrong?
.

Entry 378

Anyway, good luck with the foal, Jenny, if your reading this you picked a real winner there. Good thing your going to be locked up with him underground for the next rest of your lives.

Entry 379
I thought about it.

Brain damage helps focus on what you have, apparently.

It's not wrong.

Entry 380
Everyone else is really quiet. Sea Salt is swimming with the fish. She's bigger now. Shes singing too. Its really nice. She has a nice voice.

I feel really tired, but the carpet is really warm anyway.

Coin,you are a really good friend, and I hope I have not made you mad by anything I have said. I don't feel really good right now.

Goodnight Coin.

The last entry had another notice at the end.

//Message Sent//

//Message Retrieved//

After reading that monolithic piece of writing, I lean back to the wall. Whoa. I wasn’t sure what to think of it all, really. Really, Crystal Ponies? Traitors? Input on old-world life? What would I start?

Perhaps Blueberry would want to see this, this seems up a Steel Ranger's spe-

Wait, where was she?

I scanned the little office, and she was not there. She left without telling me.

No.

I stampeded my way down the hall, and found the door to the Shark Land wide open.

The room itself was large and open, with the watery tank itself filling the room with a hazy green glow. But for once, the water was not the centerpiece for my horror.

The sea pony was much bigger than I thought it was. The beast was fully out of the water and in the middle of the walkway, using it’s horrifically long claw-fins-hoof-things to grip on the white enamel floor.

Actually, it was closer to a monster pony than anything else, as the "sea" part assumed that it looked as if it had a place in the natural order of things.

Its upper body, while being mostly akin of a pony besides the long webbed claws it sported, was dwarfed by the shear size of the rest of it. Its long grey-green coils made it look closer some sort of rubbery snake or eel than a fish, being shiny and smooth and seemingly devoid of fur.

Neverless, when I entered the room, it slowly swayed its huge pillar-like bulk into my general direction and smiled a blood-smeared, contented smile at me, it's long and narrow head bearing a mouth filled with at least one row of dagger-like teeth.

The source of it was obvious, of course, because pinned under a single huge claw, in a puddle of blood blooming like a flower thanks to the wetness of the tile, was the broken and still form of Blueberry Cream.

Level Up!

New Perk: Friend of The Weird

You have have met a few odd folks in the wastes. Heck, you might count yourself as one. You now have new dialogue options when dealing with strange or hostile creatures..

Jumping the Sharkpony

I looked at the bloody sight before me, with the abomination against nature licking at the lifeblood of a sorta-friend while giving me a carefree grin. Its eyes showed no malice, only the sort of playfulness one might find with a manticore with its prey. As if to mock me, it took one of its claws, stuck it into the corpse on the ground, and flicked it in my general direction.

The purple-stained body bounced a few times before it slid to my feet, leaving bloody prints on the bright-white tile. Her head looked like the seapony popped it in its mouth and crushed it, and the only thing that made it different that any other corpse was a horn and some scalp. The rest of her was only slightly better off.

I lowered my horns, lifted my club, and prepared to charge.

Mourning could wait when the beast was dead.

If I could mourn her.

My legs started to move on there own, with my body running on a combination of anger and instinct. Even with the wet floor, I knew I could not trip. I doubted I could stop if I wanted too, but that hardly matters. I was going to gore the beast, one way or another.

Said beast did not try and get out of my way, apparently more concerned over possible stains in its coat than a vengeful charging minotaur.

I let out a roar and.....found myself flying backwards into the air?!

The beast grabbed my horns! And actualy lifted me up with them! This was not how it was supposed to go!

“Hello there.” it burbled oddly.

I felt my eyes bulge from there sockets, but I was not sure if it was from blood pressure or the monster-pony talking to me.

I was going to say something, but then it tossed me into the general direction of the other side of the room, where I learned that walls are hard.

I hate ponies.

…..

I felt as if I just ran into a wall, but some might say what I happened was worse. I felt like a big bruise, a big bruise with lots of nasty cuts and scratches on it. My neck felt like it was on fire, and my back was killing me. Even worse, wherever I was, it smelled like dead fish and stagnant water, and the ground was moist and filthy.

I tried wiggling a finger, and groaned. It hurt .

I tried thinking, one of the few things that did not hurt me. Yet.

Blueberry was as dead as a doornail. I was brutalized by a giant sea pony thing. Said seapony thing could talk, and after putting two and two together, was likely to be that Sea Salt mare from the terminal. Seemed logical enough.

Regardless of what she might have been before, she was probably going to eat me or something, because she’s a fifteen foot long pony-eel abomination who could kill me in a instant, if her treatment of Blueberry was any indication.

Should I be feeling grief? I was not entirely sure if I should. Would that be right, to feel only mild anger at the death of a pony who thought of you as a friend?

Remembering Pearl Strings words on the subject made me taste bile, a nice switch-up from copper but otherwise unpleasant.

I wondered if I was going to die. It seemed likely, anyway, considering the situation.

I had no idea where I was, I was too tired to move, and there was a big monster somewhere around the place and Blueberry was dead. I had no idea where I could go, even if I managed to get out of situation I was in.

Alone in a filthy room filled with nasty water. This was the place I was going to spend the short rest of my life in.

I took a painful breath, and tried to go to sleep.

Something sharp poked me in the ribs.

“Wake up minotaur.”

I cracked open my eyes.

I saw two blue orbs, filled with a sort of horrible innocence that could only be found in serial killers and rampaging children.

Considering I could barely move, I just opted to scream and flail around a bit. My captor tisked.

“Stop moving.”

Considering its head was half the size of my torso and it could probably kill me at any time, I tried. It was hard, but I managed.

It grinned lazily.

It poked one of my biceps, which began to bleed from a new hole. “The pony is bad but dead, and you are not bad but not a pony.”

I was confused and horrified, but it seemed like the pony/thing expected a response.

“What do you mean by that?” I choked out.

It rolled its eyes and licked the side of its mouth absentmindedly.

“The fish need to be fed, but the pony is weird and you are too.”

I blinked painfully, and put two and two together. “You’re going to feed us to the fish?”

She nodded, but frowned. “I thought I could, but I can’t. The pony is dead, but you are alive.”

Seeing my face, she groaned. It was more of a horrible gurgle, but it was recognizably a groan. “Most ponies are bad outside but still edible on the inside, while your pony is nice on the outside but all...”

She waved a limb vaguely off to the side, sprinkling me with foul water. “Bad inside .You are good on the outside, but your insides are different from ponies. Don’t know if its good for the fish.”

She just looked at me. It wasn’t with malice so much as a loathing felt by anything that sees a decent meal that’s off limits.

“So are you going to eat me?”

She made a horrible hissing noise and stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Eww! Thats disgusting!"

Wait, what?

" I normally feed the fish when I can. Feed the fishies, get to eat fish. But I can’t, because the pony is dead and glowing and I don’t trust your meat tainting them.”

I sighed with something akin to relief. Then I actually processed what the creature said.

“Glowing?” I croaked.

The sea pony made a look of pure disgust. “Pony was glowing red, so I tried to see if she tasted like fish. She didn’t. Tasted nasty. Most ponies are green, but she’s nasty and not good for the fish. You are weird green and gold, might be good but might be bad. Don’t know, not going to risk tainting the fish.”

Well, that was bizarre and rambling, but I thought I understood what she was saying.

“Can you see what a...pony is like on the inside?”

She nodded. I took in a breath.

“Do you see souls?”

She frowned, and tilted her head to the side. “That’s....what things are like on the inside, right? Then I do. And it’s good, too, because the fish get weirder when they eat bad things.”

Well, that was interesting and slightly horrible. “What do you look like on the inside, Sea Salt?”

She tensed up, and gave me a surprised look.

“What did you call me?” she said softly.

Whoops.

“Is your name, well, Sea Salt?” I said, hesitating slightly.

She blinked, uncomprehendingly. She then looked at one of her twisted limbs with increasing clarity. I saw her pupils shrink, and the sides of her mouth began to quiver slightly. She looked back to me, and jerked her head around, as if to see where she was. She looked at me again, this time with a look of utter horror.

Well, this was familiar. Probably not a natural response, but familiar.

As quick as she threw me against the wall, Sea Salt began to turn away from me.

Considering I could not move in any way, I just heard the sloshing of tainted water and something heavy dragging on the concrete floor. After a while, the sloshing stopped, only for the sound of metal being warped and bent to erupt from some far off corner of the room.

I was about to try and crane my neck to see what was going on until I had something shoved into my face.

“Drink this, minotaur.”

I looked at what she had in her rubbery grip. It was a large flask with a purple liquid sloshing around in it. A healing potion, a powerful one if the color was any indication.

Ignoring the agony that was my state of existence, I took it from Sea Salts fin thing, broke the cap, and began to chug it as fast as I could. A wonderful feeling of warmth spread through me, one that left no sign that I was thrown against a wall.

Looking at Sea Salts face; I could see a great confusing mix of emotions. She was scared, without a doubt, and confused about what was going on. If the new spray of water on face was any indication, she tried to get the taste of Blueberry out of her mouth, and-

Shit.

“Sea Salt, where is the pony you....” I did not need to say more, frankly.

She genuinely tried to form a good response, and I could tell, but she just started to cry. While I knew she probably did not mean it, she was still a monster , and I wanted little to do with her.

At the moment.

Getting off the concrete block I was on was an easy affair, albeit I was upset about how much tainted water was getting on me. After some wading through the mess, I managed to find a door that was clearly marked SHARK TANKS.

I turned around to the former pony, now a piscine pony-killing monster who was crying to herself. But no matter how much I pitied the creature, I had to pay my respects to my very own pony-killing monster.

Sea Salt was right. She was glowing red. Or at least it seemed that way at a distance.

While the first sight of the little corpse, bathed in an unearthly red glow, shocked me to my core, at closer inspection it turned out to be coming from one of her bags.

Of course, it was that odd pony princess tiara thing. The red gem in the center of it was glowing brightly, probably because of a broken magical connection or something.

I tried my best to clean the body up, which was not as hard at it seemed considering the great big pool of water nearby. Self Defense was somehow undamaged from water and seapony maws alike, and I placed it nearby for safekeeping. The only other thing she had was a ruined map and a bag full of technological junk, but I placed it near her gun all the same. As it turns out, the head was only a little chewed on, with the main damage being to the neck. I winced when I wiggled her legs into the water and they just flopped around lifelessly. She still looked somewhat alive, or at least she could be alive. Sure, the blood smears that coated a fourth of the room were proof otherwise, but one could imagine that she was alive if one ignored that and the way her neck was bent at an angle.

I then discovered I was crying. I also discovered that, despite my best efforts, I could not stop.

At the commune, it was generally considered rude to cry for the dead. Water was a thing best not wasted. Funerals were solemn, and it was important to let the calves to get used to death. At least a few were chosen to look on at the adults as they prepared the bodies for burning. Some of the less sensitive got to take part.

I looked at Blueberry, who looked like she was sleeping, and sighed as I picked up her weird crown thing. The gem was still glowing faintly, and it was an eyesore. It also, to my distaste, threw the entire room in a blood-red light even now.

I was tempted to break it, but it was one of the few things she valued. And so, with slightly trembling fingers, I propped the cursed thing on Blueberries head, letting it half-hang on her horn.

I stepped back, and sighed. It was a shoddy attempt at funeral. Did ponies pray during them? Was I supposed to say something about one of there gods or another? Was I supposed to give thanks to Discord for life in general? Did Steel Rangers even mourn there dead, and should I say something about her mother or something?

It probably didn’t matter, considering that it was unlikely that Blueberry was going anywhere nice, if there was an afterlife.

I heard a faint wail coming from below, and figured it to be Sea Salt. I wondered if I should kill her for what she did, but decided against it. She was going through some sort of weird self-awareness freak out that I probably did not want to interrupt, if her claws were any indication. I did need to talk to her, anyway, considering that I felt an obligation to help her.

Wait, what was I thinking, swapping a crazy mare for another? What was the matter with me?!

This settled it. I was going to Tauronto, but I was going to walk to the first place I see and become a bodyguard for one of those Purebloods or whatever there name was and live the rest of my days happily. I knew I could. Ponies feared Minotaur’s in the same way they feared griffons and hellhounds. I could make good money standing around menacingly and not doing anything rash.

I heard something large and mechanical groan downstairs, followed by an anguished shriek. Yep, it was a good idea to stay on the main floor, best to avoid the angry sea pony for now.

I paused, and looked at my right hand. I wondered briefly if I would walk out of the building I was currently in the same shape I was in currently. The water was certainly tainted, if Sea Salts mutations were any indication. Then again, how could something like that already be in the water before the war? Another mystery for the ages, I supposed.

It was bizarre, really. I fucked up. She fucked up. We both fucked up badly. And we both were going to die in a weird aquarium in the middle of nowhere, and I had barely gotten to do anything.

I had done little, really. I have been a bystander in my own life. Most of my actions have been just pained reactions to Blueberries, which was sad in a way. I needed to....

I frowned. I needed to find a way to live. And help Sea Salt. I guess nothing will really change, really. In fact-

-what happened to the red light?

I turned from my little slouch on the floor to the source of it, and found that the gem embedded on Blueberries tiara had become a dull grey color. I felt some chills go through me, but that was probably due to the fact I was soaking wet. I took the little thing off her with extreme care and looked at it. However, seeing that I could not get anything more out of examining the cold piece of metal, I gently placed it back on her head.

I was prepared to turn away, but then, to my horror, the corpse opened its eyes and grinned at me.

Two burning red orbs with little drops of white in the center looked at me with contempt, and then Blueberry began to giggle.

Ayez arouh.....ba'iid 'an hena.

The next hour or so was one of the most agonizing in my entire life.

It might have been for Blueberry, too, but neither of us could be sure, for entirely different reasons.

It wasn’t a very talk-heavy hour. I didn’t bother trying to talk it out with her, considering she barely stopped sobbing before she shuffled away from me and just sat down on her belly to rest. Bleary eyed, she tried to avoid my gaze for a very long time before finally asking about the tiara thing lying besides me.

However, I did feel awful when I told her she needed to walk back to the cart alone. She was very reluctant at first, understandably, but then I told her that I needed to go downstairs to get the water talisman thing, and she was in no condition to do so. And, as such, after she grabbed her gun, she slowly trotted out of the room. I simply slipped her magical death-reversing doohickey into my belt for safekeeping.

I felt guilty for making her go by herself, but only slightly. I had to talk to the creature that tried to kill her.

By the time I was in the basement proper, I was having second thoughts about going in alone. First and foremost, the basement’s sole occupant was curled up in a far corner of the room, making odd gasping sounds that reminded me of not only a literal fish out of water, but also a crying pony.

I was unsure if she noticed my arrival, so I cleared my throat. If she did not before, she certainly did then, and she slowly raised herself up and slithered closer to me. After a tense few moments of seemingly sizing me up, she hesitantly acknowledged my existence.

“Minotaur.” she said flatly.

“Yes.”

She leaned to her right, apparently to see if there was anyone behind me, and after a few moments of intently examining the stairs she went rigid and gave me a look containing no small amount of confusion.

“Why are you back?”

I, with no little pause, pointed to the raised flat area I was laid out earlier.

“I want to talk about, well, you.”

She was not expecting that, going by the way her wide, flat tail began to shift from side to side. The resulting sloshing water was nearly as cold as the glare she gave me.

“What about me?” she said, that odd gurgle oozing back into her voice.

I felt a bead of sweat form on my brow, which was impressive considering how cold the basement was. “Well, I just wondered what….”

My mind drew a blank, and Sea Salt made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like bubbling mud. “Well, what!”

“...Well, I wanted to know how you were doing.” I finished lamely.

She blinked, and began to seemingly shrink back.

“Oh. That’s…reasonable. But I have a few, well, questions of my own.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I have been out in the lake outside, but how long has it…been?”

“Since when?” I knew what she was talking about, but I was afraid of her reaction. Deeply. I saw her claws, and knew what they could do to meat. And I was mostly meat.

She grimaced, and waved a claw vaguely. “Well, since the…event. The great war. I suppose the Zebras lost?”

I suppressed the urge to lie.

“It’s been two hundred years, give or take a few.”

Her entire face slackened, as if every muscle suddenly stopped working, and her eyes became somehow wider than they already were. I expected a wail of sadness or something akin to it, but to my surprise she simply closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, and after a few moments she looked perfectly fine.

“Ah. Explains a lot.” As if to show what the most important topic on her mind was, she looked at one of her claws as she wiggled them experimentally.

With that strangely calm reaction serving as a little encouragement, but I was not one to question two hundred year old ponies with razor sharp claws. I slowly began to wad across the room to get to its centerpiece, which was six large egg-shaped orbs attached to a squat pillar that I assumed to be the water generator. Sea Salt just lingered in the same general position, seemingly uncaring that I was moving around in her lair.

The water generator, as I now knew for sure what it was, was an impressive looking oddity. It was actually slightly transparent, being made out of some strange plastic-glassy material that was filled with a dark purple substance, and four out of the six round objects at the top seemingly produced water at a rapid pace. The other two were either dormant or broken, for they were leaking some strange shimmering colorless substance from some clearly defined cracks, and I noticed that more than a few of the pipes leading out from the machine were broken or leaking slightly. More importantly, I didn't see anything that I could call a "talisman".

I was looking at the reason I even went into this cursed place, and now I knew I could never touch it because there was at least one sentient being that probably needed it to live. I sighed. Blueberry will be upset, but hopefully would be distracted by her own issues enough that she would not mind getting out of here in one piece without the reason we went inside in the first place.

The rooms other occupant got my attention by sending a spray of foul water in my direction, interrupting my thoughts and nearly sent me sliding into the murk. To my somewhat relief, however, Sea Salt had a claw cupped over her mouth and was giggling. Not a sociopathic “I am going to eat you” giggle, but a genuinely carefree one.

It was directed at me, yes, but it was better than her crying.

“Minotaur, I do think we need to talk?” she said, still fighting the urge to break out into a bout of full laughter. Frankly, I didn’t find being soaked with water that funny.

I tried to shake most of the water out of my hair, which just made me colder.

“Yes, I think we do.”

She stared at me for a few moments, and I realized just how strange this was. I was talking to a giant sea pony, and said sea pony was a college student who has probably killed dozens of ponies in the past, but might not really be the blame for her own actions. I really did not know where to start. However, to my relief, Sea Salt took the initiative.

“Well, my name is Sea Salt, but you know that already. What’s yours? I do not want to keep calling you a minotaur.”

“My name is Ever Watchful. And it was a guess.”

She raised a smooth ridge that might have once been an eyebrow. “A guess?”

I reached out into the deepest corners of my brain for a decent response, but it was a dud.

“Err, Sea Salt? How about you just tell me who you are, and I will tell you how I got here?” I doubted I could have worded it any more clumsily.

She just nodded, and to my surprise seemingly allowed herself to sink into the murk without leaving any sign of her existence. A few moments later, accompanied by only a little bit of moving water, she somehow managed to slither onto the power generator and lean her upper body on it, using the two broken orb-things as arm rests.

It was so effortless; I was tempted to begin clapping.

She just saw my reaction and looked almost embarrassed.

“Err, yes, I think I just might have gotten some time to learn how to swim decently over the past decade or so.”

I was unsure if I was supposed to laugh or not, so I did nothing. Sea Salt just tapped a claw or two against her makeshift armrests, and gathered her thoughts.

“Well, anyway, before I start, how did you know my name?”

I scratched my left shoulder in an attempt to get a chunk of something green and slimy out of it. “I read on a terminal that there was a pony named Sea Salt in the shark tanks.”

She blinked, and shifted her bulk slightly so that her entire body somewhat encircled the generator.

“Where was it?”

I tried to think of something convincing that she would buy, but she responded to her own question.

“It was Pearls, right? You read her logs. She said she was going to delete them before the...thing, but she always lied to me..”

I nodded. She began to blink some more, presumably to hold back some tears.

“N-now then, how much to you know about the world before it was…destroyed?”

She spoke like every word was a little wound to her sides.

“Well, it ended because there was a war between zebras and ponies. Both lost.”

She eventually accepted that answer, even if she did begin breathing harder.

“Anyway, you seem intelligent enough.”

I am unsure if that was an insult or not.

“Do you know where Tauronto is?” she continued after a brief pause.

I had an excuse to smile. “Yes. I am heading there right now with my companion.”

I realized that that might have not been the wisest thing to bring up, but she seemed to take it with stride.

“She’s still alive, right?”

I opened my mouth, but closed it after a bit of water landed on my tongue. She just let out a little guilty laugh.

“She is alive, correct? I think I heard a pony talking upstairs.”

I slowly nodded. “You can see souls, right?”

She looked like I told her the sky was brown. Which it was, but that was beside the point.

“That’s a very weird question. What would possibly make you think that?”

Before I could open my mouth in protest, she pointed at what might have been her chest.

“Because just because I look like something out of a foals tale does not mean I can do silly fairy stuff!”

I was slightly surprised at her outburst, and I took a step backwards.

“But I just assumed because of what you said about colors and things!”

Her hard expression melted into something like bitter confusion.

“What?”

“You said that you did not want to feed Blueberry to the fish because she had a red glow to her!”

She mumbled something under her breath, but quickly met my gaze.

“Blueberry? The pony?”

“Yes.” I said.

She looked puzzled, as if I just said that she was bright orange and on fire.

“I said that? Really? I don’t remember that.”

Seeing that she was seemingly as confused as I was, I decided to not press the topic further. “Sorry, then.”

Sea Salt narrowed her eyes and looked at me like I was the mutant. “No, don’t be. It’s just weird. I can remember everything, but it’s been a long time since I have had to…well, think about something more than what I was going to eat. The only time I remember seeing another pony inside here was a long, long time ago. All I know is that he came up the back entrance and screwed around with the water filtration systems..”

I grunted slightly, and knelled down to try and regain my body heat. Futilely.

I could only wonder what sort of pony could mess around here without outright stealing the water pump. However, that was a secondary thing of note, compared to the giant fishbeast that was coughing politely in an attempt to get my attention.

“Err, about Tauronto. Is the river still there?”

I felt bad, as I had no idea what she was talking about.

“I really don’t know if there is a river there, Sea Salt.”

Then my mind processed what she actually said.

Wait, a back entrance?

“There’s another opening in this place?” I said, perhaps a little too fast.

She shrugged slightly.

“Yeah, there is. Ponies sometimes go out and leave dead ones out there for me. They are creepy looking, though, and they don’t taste good at all. It’s flooded now, anyway, and it’s connected to another water pump. You wouldn’t want to go through it; really, it’s full of dead ponies.”

Well, that does it. Braymont (or was it Bearmont?) was a horrible town that needed to die out. But there was another, slightly more disturbing aspect to what she said.

“I thought you didn’t like eating ponies?”

She blinked at me, and I realized then that, for the entire conversation, she said the word “pony” like some would say “ground”.

I looked at her eyes, which wasn’t a real issue considering how big they were, and I saw nothing. She wasn’t really concerned about what she was doing, killing ponies. Even the half-smile she had was no different than the one she sported when she had a mouthful of pony meat in it.

“I don’t really like the taste of them, but I have eaten one of them once or twice when I get tired of fish. Only a nibble to spice up things, not…”

As if to solely increase my horror, Sea Salt absentmindedly licked a corner of mouth, and for a moment I saw true contentedness flood her eyes. I shuddered.

She saw my expression, and laughed lightly. It wasn’t even forced.

In an attempt to change the subject, I decided to see if there was anything I could actually gain from risking Taint infection down in one of the most uninhabitable places I could imagine.

“Sea Salt, where did you get that potion you healed me with?”

She frowned, and lurched forward off her makeshift seat. After getting most of herself off the metal lump, she nearly dived to the left into the murky water, and only surfaced when she was in the far corner of the room.

“Would you follow me, please?”

It wasn’t a command, more of an eager wish. She sounded almost desperate.

I quickly discovered that the water became far shallower in other side, only to my knees, and eventually I saw something that looked like a raised entranceway a few feet of the ground, with the crumpled remains of what was probably a door a few feet away from it.

Sea Salt just waited for me, half coiled and half leaning on the wall, and when I got close enough to it she looked at me gravely.

“Watchful, can I trust you?”

I looked at the twelve foot long pony eating mutant, and nodded before common sense could override that small part of my brain that blindly accepted everything around it for face value.

Sea Salt looked at the half-lilted room somewhat quickly, as if it was painful to look at.

“I have some stuff in there that I don’t want to get wet. It’s…”

She shot a glance at the slimy floor, and dragged a claw on it, leaving a little clean trail on the grime-covered surface.

“It has a lot of my stuff, before I, err, became me.”

She sounded like she was talking about someone else, and that scared me shitless.

“Anyway, can you carry it for me? It’s just a few bags and stuff.”

I grunted as I carefully hauled myself up the ledge, and avoided facing her to not give away my discomfort in what I was doing.

I quickly found two interesting things about the room. The first one was, besides a single large wet spot on the floor, it was completely dry and somewhat clean. The second thing was that some unseen light source kicked in when I stood up.

I turned around, and I nearly jumped when I saw that Sea Salt used one of her huge arm-fin-claw things to flick a light switch on. She just grinned at me innocently, which might have been reassuring if it where not for the fact that there were still specks of pink on some of her sharper teeth. After quickly figuring out that she was making me slightly unnerved, she leaned back outside the room and lowered herself halfway into the muck.

Her stuff, however, was easy to find, as the room was bare of any real decoration besides a few little yellowed pieces of paper pinned to the wall. I avoided touching them, as I was still wet enough that they might have been damaged, but they all had crude little drawings on them, apparently with crayons.

I noticed that they all had at something vaguely shaped like a pony on them, usually with smaller one’s accompanied by animals. I grew increasingly unnerved when I realized that they were all made by little ponies more than a hundred years ago.

Luckily, her things seemed far less personal and unintentionally horrifying. Seemingly untouched over the centuries, the single bag and a few knick-knacks were in the far-right corner near the pictures. After I carefully dried my fingers on what might have been a towel two hundred years ago, I opened the little green carrying purse.

It was pretty much what I was expecting, which wasn’t much. A little red booklet, a few rather colorful pieces of cloth that was probably clothing of some sort, a few larger books that looked rather boring, something that looked like a journal, and a few scattered papers.

In essence, it was pretty standard stuff, but considering that it was likely Sea Salt’s last real connection to life before the war, I could see why she would want it. I was tempted to look at the journal, but that would have been rude, especially because I could practically hear her breathing outside the room.

Sea Salt reacted to me walking out with her things faster than I expected. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you! I don’t know how to make it up to…oh; I didn’t think you would…”

I swore she did her best impression of a surprised lamb for a few seconds, but my surprise at that was quickly smothered by the surprise of a metallic groaning coming from the far end of the room. Sea Salt noticed it as well, and looked at me almost guiltily.

“Ever Watchful, would you be so kind as to help me one more time?” she said, eyes practically glittering.

I doubted I could say no even if I wanted to, considering what I had done already for her.

“With what?” I said, perhaps a bit flatter than I actually intended.

“You remember what I was saying about Tauronto, yes?” she said, voice brimming with excitement.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, there is a tunnel down here that’s meant too, if I remember correctly, lead to an old water transportation system in the Donk River. Really advanced stuff, apparently, but more importantly it’s a way for me to get out of here. Unfortunately, it seems to be rusted over, and I can’t pry it open. If I could, I could eventually get to the ocean, which probably isn’t too irradiated, right?”

I nearly missed her question. “I don’t think so. But do you really want to leave this place?”

She snorted. “Yes, yes I do. I used to think I could live in this place, but that was probably a few decades ago. I just can’t open the stupid thing.”

I looked at the object of her hatred. It was pretty big as hatches go, at least the size of a pony, and it large enough that the top part of it was exposed to the air. What was exposed was covered in dents and deep cuts into the metal, a testament to a decade or so of the attentions of an annoyed sea pony. Every few seconds, it let out a little groan, a sure sign of the sheer amount of pressure and damage it had obtained after centuries of diligent duty, some of which where louder than others. I wondered for a few moments just what cause it to make such obnoxious noises, but that thought was silenced to make room for thoughts about breaking things.

I kicked it. It crumpled into itself, starting from the hole my hoof made in the thin metal, and water began rushing into the hole.

Sea Salt just stared at the increasingly widening hole in the ground, and then at me with blank, nearly glazed over eyes.

“I once broke a claw trying to break that.” She said miserably.

I sympathetically patted her on…well; it was probably part of her belly.

Neither of us said anything, which was perfectly fine for me.

“Ever Watchful, yes?” she said hesitantly.

I just nodded, and stared at the hole in the ground. The sound of sloshing water below was getting louder.

“Thank you for this. I can honestly say you have given me the best company I have had in years.” She cracked a smile, one that was not expressed in her eyes whatsoever.

“I try my best.” I said truthfully.

She leaned back, as if preparing to simply dive into the hole. “Does this happen often? Out there, I mean.”

“I don’t think so, but I would think that there are others like you. Changed, anyway. I would think it would be best to see for yourself.”

“Fair enough.” She said, almost robotically.

“You treasure the past, right?” I wasn’t entirely sure where that came from.

She paused for a few moments, as if she was wondering that herself.

“I suppose. I have been…myself for a lot longer than I have been…before. I would think that I have accepted myself for who I am by now. I don’t think there’s anything I would want to see here that I haven’t already, let alone some…ponies I used to know.”

“Fair enough.” I echoed.

By the way she shyly put an arm over her head and glanced to the side, she almost looked like she was...

No, that would be impossible, and furthermore, would be very, very weird.

“If this tunnel does lead to where I think it does, I can meet you near Tauronto Bridge. It's a day travel here by walking, I think. I will probably get there before you do.”

“Okay, then. I will try and meet you there, Sea Salt.”

She slowly turned around and faced the lit room on the far side of the basement.

“Anything else I should aware of, before I go?” she said in a manner that suggested that the world outside was on the least of her worries.

“I am still learning myself. I would not think anything out there is a danger to you, however.”

She smiled slightly, and without another word, nearly dived headfirst into the watery pit below, leaving me standing with her stuff in the middle of a dark basement filled with now-shallow water and old memories.

It was bright outside, which showed just how much time I could spend with pony eating mutants. The Seahorse looked even worse in daylight, and I had the joy of seeing every bit of it that was mercifully cloaked by the darkness. It looked far less scary in the light, however. It almost looked sad; a little monument-tomb that was once dedicated to making ponies smile that was reduced to a leering ruin of a building. Even the debris filled pond below was another sign of its ruination.

Far more important to myself, however, was the fact that Blueberry was nowhere in sight. I readied the head of my hammer to a more comfortable place on my shoulder, which was in itself a feat when one was carrying a few pounds of dead weight under ones spare arm.

But the reason for her being missing quickly became apparent when I saw the cart, for snuggled in between a green saddlebag and a very asleep Blueberry was a tan colored cat nearly as big as she was.

This would have been adorable if it where not for the tiny wings and scorpion tail it sported.

The fact it was awake, and more importantly, leering at me, was a factor too.

Author's Note

This chapter was a pain to write. I feel like I missed a detail in this in which I am going to hit myself over later.

You Can't Walk Five Feet Out There Without Tripping On One.

I looked at the little manticore sitting besides the seemingly cationic mare, and I felt myself beginning to panic. Which was entirely reasonable, considering it was a creature that had all the nasty bits of a large cat with the nastier parts of a giant scorpion, but what was not reasonable was the fact that Blueberry was practically curled up against the thing, as if it was a pillow. She was breathing slowly, and she didn't look pained, but otherwise she was utterly dead to the world.

I turned my head and took a step back when the little cat monster nimbly got up and half-glided to the ground after a little jump, using a large green bag as a springboard.

After giving me a glare in seeming distaste and licking a paw, it began to walk near me. Quickly, but without hesitation, something I did not expect from a feral beast, or most things in the wasteland, for that matter.

I looked at the little cat beast, and could only wonder if, by some off chance, it was not actually out to kill me.

It was just a few feet away from me then, and stopped moving once it found a spot mostly clear

Idiotically, I went on a knee and offered a hand to it.

The little chimera thing yawned at me boredly, but to my complete surprise it raised on of it's own little paws and began to give me the best impression of a handshake it could give without thumbs. I almost expected it to begin saying I was a dumb minotaur, believing that he could go ahead and try to pretend that he lived in harmony with nature and that diplomacy was the answer to everything.

I stared expectantly at the little manticore, and it met my sight with something akin to loathing, which I quickly understood to be its default expression.

"You’re an idiot, Ever Watchful." said the manticore, in a feminine voice made for mocking, light and cheery and utterly antagonistic.

My eyes widened and something foul began to stir in my guts.

The mini-manticore, however, snatched its paw away from my palm as if it was hot, and promptly licked it roughly. After doing so, it promptly dashed off to the direction of the aquarium, presumably in the pursuit of fish.

I just looked at my hand.

There was a little purple swirly thing that went from the base of my thumb to my wrist that I was certain wasn't there before. It wasn't a solid purple line, actually, so much as three or four off-grey lines that waved around eachother, with the parts they connected being purple.

I blinked at it. It didn't move, like skin was supposed to, so that was a good sign as ever. Actually, it resembled a pen-mark more than anything else, and it reminded me slightly of the purple stuff in the water producing generator in the aquarium. I didn't remember touching any of it, but it was leaking from a few spots and I was utterly sure I would have noticed it if it stained, considering that my leg's were all the same color they were supposed to be.

I pinched the spot with my left hand after putting down my hammer, and the skin still felt the same. Odd.

I turned around to the dreadful building behind me, and it then hit me that I just saw a fucking talking manticore.

I also realized that Blueberry actualy, for all intents a purposes, rised from the dead with the help of something that was almost certainly evil, and said object was in a little pocket on my right hip.

I also realized that Blueberry was still asleep, and that her chin was balanced on the blue memory orb that held the memories of the crystal pony I was in.

I also realized I just assisted a giant pony eating fish thing possibly get access to a possible major waterway.

I also realized that, as far as I knew it, there was little to no option's to escape from the situation I was in, considering that Tauronto was a day or two away and if I went back home, I would be killed unceremoniously and left to rot.

I also realized that the green bag the talking manticore used to jump off the cart fell on the ground.

Sighing, I walked up to cart and poked Blueberry in the forehead, right above the horn. She didn't react at all, which hardly surprised me and all. Memory orbs are supposed to last for a while, and she probably started looking through the one we got from the highway-pony a few minutes ago or so.

I then went over to the green bag, which, to my displeasure, had spilled most of its contents thanks to the talking manticore, if that's what it was. I winced when I saw the varying mechanical tools sprawled on the ground, some stained lightly with a rusty-red covering of what was almost certainly not rust. I gave a half-hearted glare at the blue butterball, and knew that, if I wanted to, I could probably solve most of my immediate problems with her with a simple overhead swing with the hunk of rebar laying a few feet away. However, I spotted another object near my feet that I had somehow missed, and the sight of it snapped me out of that morbid train of thinking; it was a black box of sorts, nearly as long as my forearm and just as wide.

I picked it up, and after learning that it was not as heavy as it looked, laid it on the cart and simply lifted off the top carefully after a brief moment of hesitation. What was inside was interesting, even compared to the other events that had happened within the last few hours.

The first thing I took notice of was a little pale folder, small yet thick, bound with a rubber band and Blueberry's name embossing it in silver writing. There was a joke in that, one which was hardly funny when I took notice of the two other objects snugly placed in the black-furred cases interior.

They were memory orbs, but odd ones compared to the plain-looking one that was currently being used by Blueberry. Both were colored grey, but while one had a large red dot on one of its sides, the other had a large white one.

I scratched my head, shrugged, and carefully wiggled the band off it. With little flourish, I opened it up, not sure what to expect.

I quickly realized, to my mild displeasure, it was a makeshift diary. Or, in Blueberry's case, a transcript detailing her utter insanity. I flipped a thumb through the entire novel-sized stack, and discovered that nearly every single page was scratched out furiously, seemingly with whatever substance she could get her hooves on. The only page that had anything legible, in fact, was the last one. Barely, anyway. It seemed that Steel Rangers did not truly grasp writing skills.

Well, I think this is mine. I woke up with it in my bag, and it was with the rest of my stuff, so it's mine. Anyway, yeah,

This is you writing this, Blueberry. No, really. This is your stuff. I am sure of it. Mine, anyway. If somepony else is reading this, go ahead and take it before I wake up or my corpse starts to smell. Unless you killed me, and at that I hope I made your life misrable and stuff.

So, if you are Blueberry, keep reading this. There are two memory orbs in the case you found this in, hopefully you still know what those are. You had them made a long time ago, nice pony in Manehatten made them for you for a queens ransome in spark batteries. The one with the red dot has your worst one you could think of. It's bad, but you must do it. However, after that, go into the one with the yellow orb. That's the happiest one you could remember. I repeat, you need to do this. You need to.

Now, you probably have seen your amu necklace. Only wear it when you need to. A very nice stallion once told you that, when you wear the necklace, it makes you forget things faster. You both once tested it and he proved it true with a video recorder, but then you forgot it was a bad thing a day afterword. He found this and told you what you forgot, and you really need to be on top of this. Mom had no idea what she was doing, you can't blame her for that, she was a earth pony and had no idea what would happen. But remember, only put it on when your life is in extreme mortal danger and only then.

Anyway, you need to think about where you need to go to be safe. Going home is out of the question after running away when Red Eye attacked the base, and you cannot go into Fillydelphia out of dignity. You can't go to another Steel Ranger group anyway, they think you are dead, hopefully. Hoofington is out of the question, less about the fact that the Elder there doesn't like your mother and more because of well, all I can all you can remember is something about a Caesar and a Brutus. I think both of them hate you, and you might have had sex with one of them. Anyway, don't go up there for whatever reason.

Also, if your wondering how old you are, stop. Unless something horrible has happened that has made you lose this paper, your twenty five, give or take a few months. However, I don't think you look much different than seven years ago, which is the time you left the rest of the Rangers. It might have something to do with that necklace you have. You can't break it, you have tried already. You actually tried to get a dragon to do it once. The dragon died.

You need it, anyway, so don't lose it. It might be the reason your in the mess your in, but it's the only reason you are alive.

I made a plan a few days before writing this, and hopefully you still remember it. It's pretty simple, as far as plans go, but it should help you a lot.

1. Go to Tauronto. Very simple. Just follow the main path.

2. There are still Rangers up there. There is one named Cherry; you need to talk to her. She can help.

3. If not, go and talk to a member of the Purebreds. You can pass the membership test and get there help.

4. If you can't do that right, go to Ghoul Town and try and talk to the leader of the Reavers. Sounds simple, but it's not. He's one thousand and eighty feet in the air and the tower he is in is irradiated and full of ghouls that probably would not like you if you couldn't get up there correctly.

5. Keep doing steps 2-4 until one works.

6. Wonderful! Now you just need to go to the Crystal Empire! Hopefully you still remember what that is.

7. If you don't, it's a massive, balefire-blasted jagged hell full of ghouls and other nasty things. The whole place is made out of light-green crystals, and while the city somehow protected itself from the bomb that was supposed to hit it, apparently they adsorbed all the necromantic energy in the bombs and amplified it or something. Anyway, you’re going to need help to get in. It's also in a permanent nuclear winter and stuff, so bring help that can resist the cold and irradiation.

8. Once you do get in, you need to search for the royal tower. It's really big, so you don't need help there.

9. Inside the tower, according myth, there is a secret library filled to the brim with information about magical artifacts. You are sure that, in the old days, the ponies who ruled banned most of those books and shoved them away from prying eyes, but there is a secret personal collection hidden in the tower by the ruler of the Empire for safekeeping.

10. Anyway, you need to go in there and learn about the necklace you have and how to destroy it. More importantly, you need to learn how to regain your memories. You might want to take some of the nicer looking books, too, in case they look valuable. The Purebreds will probably make you there leader if you can pull of some decent magic.

I wasn't sure what I was disturbed more by, Blueberry having a plan to take me to an irradiated deathtrap or her switching between "I" and "me". I was also sure one was supposed to use "their" when talking about ownership and belongings as apposed to "there". But I distress.

I carefully slid the paper back into the folder and looked at the orbs. I could go further into her privacy and invade in what was certainly her most prized memories, and it was probably wrong for me to look at her stuff.

However, she was out cold on cart, and it wasn’t like there was anything that would interrupt me if I was in it.

Then again, that’s what I thought when I put on the Recollector the last time.

I looked at the little squiggly mark on my palm, and wondered if it really was a sign of…something. Now that I looked at it a bit more, it could have passed for something sign-ish. Like a snake or something like a snake.

Abstant-mindedly, I took out the tiara-necklace that was probably a horrible artifact of unholy power and gently plopped it in the bag where the food was kept, which was pretty much effectively mine. While my mind was on food, I took out one of the food bars in it and pretty much wolfed it down without bothering to taste it, not that there was much to taste.

After a few moments of brushing out the kinks in my hair and body and loading the very few spoils from the aquarium in my unofficial side of the cart, and after a few moments of resistance, slid down on the ground, my back facing the concrete wall the cart was hidden behind.

I think I deserved a time out, after all.

To my increasing concern, however, Blueberry was still not moving. I wondered how long I was out from the orb, and I then realized I was probably out for more than a few hours, at the least.

I sighed, shifted my weight, and looked over at the goliath structure that loomed over its own little petty domain. No sign of the freakish talking cat, or the freakish ponies back in the creepy little village. Nothing to do.

I looked at the black box, sighed, and got up. It wasn’t so much of if I was going to use one of these things but which one. Both would probably take time, and either would be important to help understand Blueberry. One was supposedly the worst thing that has happened to her, while the other was the best thing. If I chose the best one, it would probably be sweet and gentle, while the other one would probably be helpful in the, for a lack of a better term, healing process.

I made my decision. I picked up the crown-like object to my side, and simply put it on my head. Finally, after lying back on the wall, I carefully placed the memory orb with the red dot in it on it and closed my eyes.

oooOOOooo

I felt sore, and more importantly, small and tired. Presumably, so did the three other ponies in the narrow room I was in, at least in the tired front. My entire body was clothed only in rags, but I felt the comforting weight of a heavy object around me neck, cool and almost soothing. There was a dull roar coming beyond a grate at the end of the room, but it was hardly important. All that mattered was basking in the feeling the thing on my neck was giving me.

I heard a sob coming from a pathetically tiny pony, little bigger than a foal, wailing as it clinged to what was probably his parent. The other pony in the room, a stoutly built ocher stallion nearly as wide as he was tall, snorted at the sight.

“Stop whining, brat. Your number six. Let a dead pony die without having the last thing he hears being a little pussy whining for his mother.”

The light yellow stallion who was consolidating the little pony glared harshly at the rude brute. “This foal’s mother was the first one out on the other side, you unfeeling scum of the earth.”

I felt something warm come over me, like a refreshing wave of smothering love emanating from the heavy object around my neck. I couldn’t help but sigh in shear satisfaction.

I barely noticed that the two stallions stopped there bickering and were looking at me oddly.

I hardly cared, however, considering I knew that the most important thing in the room at the moment was not them, or the little pony in the lap of the smaller one, but rather me. I couldn’t hold back a little giggle. I think the larger one swore.

“Oh, sweet goddesses, is she high?” he said, almost impressed. The smaller buck snorted.

“Naw, that’s just Blueberry Cream. You know, the only one in this thing who has made it through five of these already and fought exactly once?”

The wide stallion looked at me, eyes wide, and let out a low whistle. “Damn, and here I thought I was the big guy ‘round here with two of these things under my belt.” He grunted slightly. “I ’xpected some pony taller, though. And, err, sweet cheeks, not to be rude, but while you aren’t exactly hard on the eyes, the whole ‘Dash addicted hobo ’ thing isn’t a good look for ya.”

The smaller stallion groaned, and the little colt squirmed into his chest and continued to cover it in tears. “For the love of the gods, Wood Chipper, just shut up for once in your miserable life. We are slaves, for all that is…you’re the one talking about death, and I am the one who’s up next. I just want to help this lit-“

The gate at the other end of the room opened, and the roar grew louder. Sighing deeply, he half-heartedly pushed off the little blue colt off him and began to wander into the direction of the noise.

“Save a seat for me, Temper.” Wood Chipper said, almost solemnly.

“But dear brother, where we are going, there are no seats, only cells.” said Temper laconically.

At that, both of the stallions began to chuckle bitterly, and after a few moments the smaller stallion walked out to whatever was beyond the gate. It shut with a loud, rusty clink-clank.

The room was comparatively silent for a few moments, before the older stallion sniffed slightly. “Like a little brother, that one.”

He looked at the little foal, and then at me. “Blueberry, huh? You got family here?”

I said nothing, and just stood there, basking in the sensation of being utterly happy with the situation at hand. He just stared at me for a few moments before groaning and letting his head hang low.

“Don’t talk much, do you? You one of those sociopaths that come up here every so often?”

I turned my head to him, and I smiled softly.

He swore, and the little colt next to him was nearly crushed in his mad dash to the farthest end of the chamber. He did a valiant effort no to swear in front of the little foal, but eventually failed.

“Shit shit shit shit shit what the hell is the matter with you!” he screamed as he backed up against the wall, his voice seemingly up a few octaves.

I paid no attention to the burly pony and merely looked at the colt, who was now a bit closer to me.

“What’s your name, little pony?” I said sweetly.

The blue pony just stared at me in fright, but eventually choked out “Cr-cropper, mame.”

I blinked, and the little colt shirked back. “Oh. That’s a nice name. You probably want to live now, don-“

I paused, because I heard somepony scream.

"Blueberry Cream."

The big stallion moved up from his spot and placed a hoof between me and Cropper.

“There are three ponies out there, bitch, and my little brother just died. Fuck up the bitch that did it, will yeah?”

I looked into his eyes, and saw, among other things, a stallion that trusted me to, at the very least, kill things, if nothing else. I nodded, and smiled.

The gate opened behind me, and there was another roar of chorus of approval. I began to move in the direction of the light and noise.

The last thing I heard when I went outside was “Lunaspeed, you crazy little sociopath you.”

Outside the room was a different story. The floor was a mish-mash of several shades of red and purple, and there was several corpses scattered around it. Several barrels were hanging from the ceiling, and at least a few held some noxious substances, considering the awful smell that filled the room.

Even more notable was the massive crowed of ponies gathered around it. There had to be at least a hundred, nearly scrabbling around themselves in order to get better views of the room I was in.

In fact, I nearly missed the only other pony in the room, as close to my entrance she was. A mare, by the looks of her, a dark dusky blue color with rich dark brown hair, most of her natural beauty ruined by dozens of whip-scars and fresh cuts alike. She was standing low to the ground, all but leaning on the cooling corpse of the yellow stallion from before. Shakily, she raised her head to look at me.

Somepony, or something, who was very loud and obviously enjoyed it,began speaking.

“Out of the Black Gate, the only slave in this room with a chance of freedom tonight, here comes the cruel and terrible Blueberrrryyyyy C-creeeeeaaam!”

There was loud cheering, accompanied by the occasional questioning murmur. But that was hardly important, as the other pony in the room was attempting a pitiful charge that I easily side-stepped.

She dropped the knife from her mouth when she reached the other side of the arena, and began to break down crying. The crowd began to jeer and boo, but that quickly stopped when I slowly trotted up to her, past a seething pool of sludge.

I stopped for a moment; I slowly put some weight on a raised patch of ground. To my pleasure, a barrel from above dropped its load, dropping a single plain knife.

Picking it up with my magic, I began to make my way thought the arena, not bothering to look at the audience. In fact, I was actualy humming a little tuneless tune that was entirely out of place with the currant situation, and only stopped when I got to the mare in the corner.

She didn’t flinch when I put a hoof on her shoulder, and just looked at me fearfully when I cupped a hoof under her chin to force her to turn her head. Her nose was broken and one of her eyes seemed to be glazed over with a thin layer of cataracts, but otherwise her head was fine. She simply, in lieu of trying to get away, attempted to plead for her life with a mouth full of broken teeth and her own lifeblood.

I smiled understandingly.

I then lifted her head further up against the wall. She would have screamed, if it was not for the hoof on her jaw stopping her from doing anything.

For a few moments, I pondered what to do. A little burst of pleasure started to form on the tip of my horn, and I smiled when I knew what could be done.

She let out a muffled scream when my horn pierced her trachea, understandably, and she was reduced to wheezing painfully when I simply pulled it out. While most of my sight was filled with a spurt of blood, saying nothing about the damp mess that was now my forehead.

I cried out with joy when waves of pure pleasure began to ripple out from the object on my neck, almost as a reward of sorts.

“Well, folks, with the way she’s acting after impaling Sassafras, I think she’s enjoying this!” said the voice energetically.

In response, the crowd exploded in a wave of pure energy, rippling with bloodthirsty ponies that just got one of the most entertaining deaths of the evening.

I simply stood there, above the mare. Her name was Sassafras, apparently. Hardly matters now.

“This next pony used to be one of our betters, but after stealing from the medical stations he found himself here with the rest of our lesser's! Here comes Stoneback!”

The grey-brown stallion that emerged from the other gate was large and well built, but was giving me a weary eye. Considering most of my head was now stained red and I might have been smiling, it was understandable.

He looked over the arena, seemingly familiar with it. Seeing that I was merely trotting in his direction and not making a mad dash for anything, he took in a deep breath and made his way to an area that was mostly untouched. After a quick dash over a pressure plate, he nearly smiled when he found himself was a large iron club.

And he promptly stopped when he couldn’t pick it up in his teeth. His pupils dilated when it became engulfed in red magic.

When I pulled the club over into one of the pools of bubbling slime, the stallion came with. I didn't know why he didn't let go, but I didn't really care.

There were a few muttering from the crowd about how something like this wasn't really fair, but even they cheered when he panicked at landing in the slime. I wasn't too far away from him, but I almost didn't hear his screams over the sound of the crowds roars of approval.

It took a few moments for him to stop moving, though, and I didn't feel anything. No little burst of happiness, not the slightest tingle of pleasure, nothing. I sighed, and simply turned to the so called Red Gate, which was already opening to let out the last pony behind it.

“Well, every pony, we have saved the best for last! A mare straight out of the Stables, she’s lived through three bouts so far and is one hell of a fighter. The terror of 39, I give yoouuuu Snowflake Special!"

The unicorn that came out of the gate was a shocker. For one thing, she was odd looking, tall and gangly. Her long hair was striped with red, green, and purple, and her coat was a shockingly pure white color. Furthermore, her eyes were mix-matched, with one being dark purple while the other was a terrible blue.

She looked at me, and sneered.

“Another raider. Hmmpf!” she said as she flipped her hair back, to the seeming adoration of most of the crowd’s stallions and a surprising amount of mares.

I quickly discovered that, even if I was not forced to do so, I would have killed her on principle.

A little warm feeling bubbled up in my chest at that thought, and I all but moaned.

I could have sworn the crowd quieted down a bit, and my opponent gave me a concerned look.

Soon, I realized I was actually moaning. Enthusiastically. And that I had a hoof stuck in the chest cavity of a dead mare. Out of pure spite, I took it out and licked it.

“Goddess da-ym!” said a surprised stallion in one of the upper rows of seating. Many of the spectators soon echoed his words, albeit less tastefully.

My seeming opponent just looked at me, mouth slightly wide and with a quivering upper lip.

“The fuck is wrong with you!” she said in a panicked, unladylike manner as she dashed off to my right around a cooling corpse.

I turned around and simply began trotting along towards her, nearly tracing her steps.

“I am perfectly fine.”

“Normal ponies don’t get off at killing other ponies!”

I smiled, and felt something wonderful build up around my horn.

“I like other ponies, miss Snowflake. They are pretty. You’re actualy rather pretty yourself.”

She stopped and looked at me in mild surprise, actualy blushing slightly. Quite a few sections of the crowd began mumbling.

I smiled, in the sense that my mouth was wide open and all my teeth were showing.

“I just like breaking pretty things, that’s all.”

I first thought some pony dropped a pin, considering how seemingly quiet it was, but then I realized that the pony who was announcing the fight must have dropped her microphone.

Her look of muffled pride was replaced with one of utter horror as she dashed for the knife near Sassafras’s cooling corpse and quickly met me someways near the acid pit, staring at me fearfully as she raised the little blade above her in a downword gesture with strange, chromatic magic.

"St-tay back! I-I am warning you!"

I said nothing, but she all but screamed when her magical field simply vanished into thin air, and when my own red magic caught the dropped knife before it even hit the ground. A wave of confusion and surprise echoed on the faces of the spectators.

Taking my chances, I simply raised the knife to her face and smiled.

"I have to wonder, miss Snowflake, what's your special talent?"

She was between a acid pool and a knife, and after choking down a nasty comment that could have lost her a limb she slowly stuttered out her response.

"B-being special."

I raised a eyebrow. "Really, now, how do you do that?"

She snorted, some source of pride welling up from deep inside her.

"Look at me, mare. You said it yourself, I am special. My magic, my eyes, my hair, everything. When I get out of here, I am going to change the wasteland just by being out there."

I looked at the polychromatic pony before me, battered, beaten, scared for her life, and felt a small twing of pity.

"That's...really sad if you really think that."

She blinked. I leaned forward, making my move.

"You know, I don't want to kill you." I said, letting the knife do little acrobatic tricks in the air. A happy little thumping sensation began to fill my head, like the opposite of a headache.

Snowflake took a tiny step back, and bit down a yelp when her hoof felt the bite of acid.

I boredly nicked the mare across the nose with the knife, and a little wave of red shocked my nerves in a very nice way.

"I could play games with you right now, you know. Who knows what these freaks on the other side of these walls like. Cut you up a little, cut your tendons and stick my tongue in the holes I make, stuff that neither you or the ponies watching us would like. Wouldn't want to scare the foals watching here, we all know our dear leader would be upset at that. But I like you a lot, in general, so I am just going to do a little thing before I end you. Is that all right?"

My whole world was red, with even my eyesight becoming somewhat tinted with the color of blood. The knife got ever closer to her face, and she might have gulped.

"My favorite colors are purple and blue, you know. They match my hair."

She screamed even before the knife slid over the bridge of her nose, and the world dissolved in a red haze as the crowd erupted into a ocean of whoops and cheers.

OOOoooOOO

Companion Perk Gained! (Bout time?)

They Called Me Mad!
They did, didn't they? However, there is a method to your madness, considering that you have a 50% bonus to rolls against negative mental effects. Well, someone you know, anyway.

Perk Gained?\gfj

Ạ̸̵̪̼͙̭̼̳ͧ̑̓͑ͭ̓ͦͩ̓͞͝h͒̔̑͂ͯ͒̃͌͋̌̈̿̋͟҉̗̗̘͖̪̳̳g̷̷̙̣͇̘͖̓̾̈́ͭ̏ͪ̾͆͒͗ͩ̀̚͜͠a̒ͪͣ͋ͬ̽̓̓̾̄҉̷͎̹͉͓ì̧̀͋̊͋̽͊ͧ͌̋̕͡҉̰͚͉̘̦̱̤̬̤̲̲v̸̴̧̟̩̖̙̞͕̈́ͩͤ̌́ͩ͂ͫ͐͋ͪͭͯ̌̿̇̀̚͟ͅf̶̨̛̛̼̺̱̤̲͍̗͔̪͕́̃ͨ́̆͒͒ň̀̓̀ͯ́ͨ̓͒̄̓͒̂̄̾̆̚͘͏̢҉̣͇̭̫͉͙̲̝̺͈̺̬͙͎͇f̴̯̜͇̫̟̝̪̰̫̙͙͇̘̪̦ͦͥͬ̓̃ͬ͑̇̓ͫ̀̚͜b̷̋̅ͧ̎͂͒ͧͧͬ̈́̿̈́͞҉̤̥͔͔̠̫̫̜͢ȁ̸̸̜̗̲̩͚̘̗̫̄ͥ̎̍̊ͨ̈́̉̊̎̂̌́ͯ̓̍̆̆̕̕b̷̲̭͎̼̩̝̘͖̤̲͕̬͍͉ͯ̎͑͊̑ͧͨ͆ͮ̈͂ͫ̐ͪ͋̏̔̽͜͟g̵̷̙̺̮̱̺̰͍̣̓̌͊͛̊͊́̎ͫ̀̅́h̝̫̥̻͎̤̿̾́̒͊͟͞͠͠ä̸̰̯̼̘͔̱͕̬̬̺̦̹̯͖̩ͦ̓ͫ̓̀́?̜̩͖̗̘̝̫̻͙̱ͬ͗̀̿̌ͥ̀͑ͪ̽̌̇̎ͤ̍͊ͯ̀́͝f̴̶͂̈́ͫ͂̿̈́͏̸͕̺̻͙̳͉͎̣h͈͍̳̀̽̅̓ͬ͐ͣͭ̂͛̃ͨ́͝ͅs̷̶̐͑͂̀̋͗̎͗̅͂̀͞͏͙̤̜͙̗̩̘͔̻̤̤̖̟̮̭͕̺̗d̲͇͈̖̠̣̖͔̱̒ͨ͗ͣ̆̋̉́̑͡h̵͕̪͍͍͕̦̭̰̥̰̠̥͔̜̭̖̎ͧ̄̔̏͟͝aͮ̌̄ͣ̿ͫ̉̂ͧ̋ͧ̿͂ͬͭ͑̔̅̚҉͎̩̹͕̫͓̻͇̬͚͓̼̺̤͞
Ä́̔͑ͩ́͐ͯͭ͌ͧ̿̋̍ͧ͏̛̛̬̳̼͔͖͇̼̺̺̭̻̹̯̳̬̦̼̼̝H̨͎̗͖̥̜͎̳̮̙̻̮ͩ͐͛̍ͬͧͬ̆̊ͮͧ͋̓̍̆̄͟͟͠ͅA̓͗ͤ̀́̚͏̡͕̩̟̫͎͙̯͖̦̞̖͎̻͞ͅH̷̡̨̛̝͓̲̳̯̫̼̙͖̞̙͉̱̻̫͍̩̋̈́̄ͣͅẠ͔̣͓̺̻̠̈ͮͩ̊͘H̲͇̩̲̝̼̼͎̗͙̯̦̼̆ͦ̓̿̌̑͊̿̀͟Ā̧̮̞̻͖̅̓̃ͧ͋̌̚͝ͅH̸͙̘̯͔̹̥̞̔͑̅ͨ̀ͫ͌̌̌ͧ͜A̢̖̫̖̼̮̻̤̠̤̳̥̼̼̩̯̪͕͉͆̍͒́̽̄͘H̷̲̩̯̙͓̟̀̓ͧ̊ͨͪͬ͠Ạ̙̟̬̘̹̮͉̜̬̣͚̹͉͋͆̾͂̄ͯ̒ͫ̒ͫ̽̈ͮ̐͠ͅͅH͔̦͎̗̱͔̘̩̄͑̆͌ͯ͐̍͡Ḫ̫̟͓̰ͤ̐̓̆̓ͬͦͩ́̃͆͊ͣͮ͑ͪ̊̉͞͝͝͠͡Ā̸̹̮͖̫̠̾̂̑ͣ̎ͯ́H̝̜̙̘̮̜̯̲̞͇̤̭͂͆͑̄͐̇͌̀̄ͫ͛̾̅̒̽ͣͦͬ́͟͞Ȃ̧͙̼͔͍̠͉͕̄̀ͮH̡͚̘͔̖͇͖͈̜̥̬͈̩͓̫ͥ̂̎͑ͦ͂ͣ͐͋̑ͭ̂͝͞͝Ḥ̸͓̰̗̞̆͂̏̃́͢͠ͅͅA̷̡̡̤̠͈̗̠̭̳͎̰̠̭̟̜̩̹͒ͣ̔̌ͯ͗ͫ̓́ͭ̌ͪ̄̈́͑̐H̭̣̺̺͍̖̰̙̥͙̩͉̪͎̲̫͍͇̖́̄̅̀̓ͦ̇̇̒͛̾͛ͧ̏̈́̄́̚̚͜A̯̗̫͖̱̳͎̰͎̖̳̤̻̲̱͖͍̍̊̃̈ͧ͗̀ͭͩ͟͢͜͜ͅH͌̋̽͒̄̌̐̊́͏̯̺̦͚̮̻͍͖̩̼̯͍͇̳̩ͅͅÁ̃̈́͑̾̂̓̊̊̊́̒ͬ̐ͮ҉̥̞͍̩͢H̸̻̩̘̫̫͚͇͖̞̬͍̪̹͖͉̣̏͛̈́͂̈ͣ̋̂̀͢͟Aͣͩͪ̍̎͌ͦ͗ͯͫ̔͐̆ͤ̌͜͏̷̡̮̖͙͓̥̟̤̝̹̩͖̜͈͚ͅH̸͉͇̺͔̜͕͔͕̪̼͍͔͎̖͉̪ͬ̒̐̒͂͆ͤĤ̸̂͒̈́̌̎ͥ̊̌̓͜҉̢̺̦̱̬͉̬̰̟̥̤͎̳͙̫̘͔̤̳A̷̡̨͚̘̹̣͕͔̦̞͉͇͚͙͍̒͋̒̽̑̈͛͂̽̓ͬͦ̍̽͛ͩ̕͞H̸̛̖͎̞̘̘̲̖̪͈͎̥̹͚̣͚̪͖̼̥̊̄̐̐̔̏̓͋̔̽ͬ̎ͪͣ̌͂͊̇̚Á̵̛̪̺̣̱̟̜̥͈͕̼̞̃͆͊̿̒̀͒͆̅̋ͣ̀̋͡͠Ḧ̢̻͇̙͖̭̲̟̠́̾ͫ͋̔́͌̓ͫ͐ͥ̒̀͜H̷͒͒ͫ̂҉̨̨̜̩̗̲̠͠ͅA̸̧̧̼̰̖̦͎̗̞̤ͦ̀̌͂͛ͣ̾̾ͫͣ͛͒̅ͣͣ̈́͝Ḩ̶̧̥͈̞̲͚̞̂̅̓͂ͦ̾̿̌̏̍ͤ̋̂̚͘͟A̴̘̺͖̼̼̦̙ͮ̓ͧ͌͑̀̕͞Ḣ̰̺̻͎͕ͤ͗͊̑ͨͫ͑͆̀ͫ͒͆̕͘͟Ą̠̙̣̣͍̦͖̰̦̖̗̫̠̯̿̓͂̌͗̊̋̋ͣͬ̚̚ͅḨ̷̬̯̪̭͔̬̪̣͔͙̬͈̜̜̘͔͌̿ͨ̓̌̓̊̌ͨ͌ͥ̌ͩ͗͗̕͡H̡̛̭̮̦͖̭̻̖͎̲͚̯̟̪̖̮̼͂ͩ͗͌ͩ͑͆̿͐̑̀̚͘͞ͅA͂̂̇͛̊̉̾̿ͥ͐̋̓ͥ̆͘͏̘̖̤̹̻͉̦͚͖̞͖̗͖̦͙̺
THEFUNHASONLYJUSTBEGUN

Talking, Talking, Drama Bomb, More Talking, Not Entirely In That Order.

After slowly regaining my senses, I very carefully took off the crown-like object off my head and, hands trembling, set it on the cart, and set the black orb into its spot in the case and quickly closed it. Almost immediately after doing so, I swiftly took the object on my belt that was the source of Blueberry’s sadism in the present and in the past, the horrible little pony princess tiara-necklace- thing, and simply stared at it for a few moments. I couldn't simply get rid of it, as it was not really mine to get rid of, but it was almost certainly one of the reasons, if not the reason, for Blueberry’s troubles, which, by shear unholy luck, became mine a few days ago.

I simply, for a lack of better words, had no idea what to do. It might have been my place to make a choice for the little pony I happened to be traveling with, but I was unsure if I was ready to do so. I wasn't entirely sure where to start, at that. Hiding it would presumably not work, nor would simply keeping it on my person. Either way, she would find it or try and get it’s location from me, possibly with magic or simple force. That was another issue in that as well, the fact that Blueberry could use magic, not just the typical wastelander tricks but genuine magical spells. While it was true I was three times her size and at least twice her weight, it was also true she had a decent sidearm and could simply conjure up those magical chains she once made to bind me.

That also raised dark questions regarding how much the little metal thing cradled in my hands assisted her in her magic, as I felt something in that memory orb rise up from it into her horn, but those were questions for another day.

After a few moments of thought, I placed the source of the source of my troubles in the same bag as the memory orb case and placed it where it rested. Seeing that Blueberry was still asleep, and that the day was still young, I wondered for a few moments just how long I was put under when I went into it. As she was presumably not going to wake up anytime soon, I wrapped the few spoils of the trip into the Seahorse in a larger piece of green silk-cloth and turned the radio on for accompaniment.

The road, while empty, and therefore safe, was also boring, and I needed a distraction before my mind imploded from the fact that, in twenty-four hours, I went through a cannibalistic village, talked to a fifteen foot two-hundred year old meat eating seapony, discovered that dead ponies can rise from the dead with the help of magic, found a tiny talking manticore who could talk and may or may not have given me a strange mark that would probably send less rational types into frenzies, and learned that my traveling companion fought in some sort of arena or some such and killed many ponies, which would not have been so much as a shock if it where not for the fact said pony’s accountability for her prior actions and words were now questionable.

And of course, there was also the realization that this was my life, I had few plans for the future, and I had no idea what to do but go with the flow. Was that okay, simply going where life takes you? Should I have challenged Bull’s Strength’s judgment? It might have worked, I wasn't exactly popular at home but I wasn't hated, and I knew the Elder at the very least would have preferred any viable contender for head of security and outside relations than a bull who’s first thoughts on the matter of outsiders was when he could lead a raid on them.

But that was a silly thought, to think I could have said no to him and stayed home. While it sounded great in theory, in practice it would have resulted on my head on a pike, and becoming a outcast, however bleak it sounds, is preferable to being reduced to a head on a pike. Traitors do not get burned, as is the respectable way to be deposited of, but rather become the bait the hunters use. Of course, few things are attracted to a dead minotaur, so the few unlucky fools who try to leave and get caught are doomed to a slow mummification in the wastes in some isolated outcrop on the hills.

At least, that’s what the hunters claim they do with the bodies. Some of the old men and many small one’s half my age claim they do worse things to them, but further thought on that would probably make me lose my lunch. I still could still faintly taste blood in my mouth.

In order to help ease my thoughts, I played with the knobs on the radio for a few moments until I got it to the rough configuration Blueberry had it on to get the signal that came from Tauronto. To my mild confusion, rather than a speaker that would presumably be on at the time, a din that reminded me of several broken robots hitting one other came out of the speakers, stopping for a few moments after a little hiss, only to start up a new round of electronic abuse that sounded somewhat different than the first one.

Frowning, I looked at the possibly broken radio and then at Blueberry. I dearly hoped I hadn't broken the device. It was one of the few things I was hauling around that had equal value to the two of us. I decided to keep it running as I stepped inside the front harness of the cart, on the off chance it began working again.

After a half-hour of brisk walking on the half-frozen road, it did. A little burst of static interrupted the electronic whirring, and to my mild surprise, as apposed to the rough feminine voice from before, the mare, if not filly, on the radio was very quiet, very soft, and sounded like it needed a hug and a few encouraging words before it did anything.

“Err, hello? Is this thing on? Oh, I hope it is, that would be really embarrassing if it doesn’t…oh, goodness, is that light working? That light is, that’s the…oh, that’s the one that means this is on. Wait a moment.”

A thick muffled whine that might have been a sob or a genuine issue with the sound system emerged from the radio, and after it stopped the pony on the radio lightly coughed a few times into it, as if to test it.

“Sorry about that, well, onto the main reason why I…oh, I don’t know if…oh, bother!”

The pony on the other side of the radio took in several sudden, clear breaths, presumably to calm herself down, and I could not help but feel very bad for whoever was talking. Obviously, they were not used to this and were scared out of there minds.

“Ahh, well, it’s working now. Sorry, everyone, or at least who is still listening. Really sorry.”

A brief pause.

“Well, I am Nightcore’s assistant, and this broadcast is live.”

Wait, these were taped?

“I would like to…well, no, I have to announce that Nightcore will not be maintaining the radio system from this moment forward, and will not be able to be contacted from the main radio tower for…oh, sorry, Tauronto, but she’s not going to be contactable for a long time. Well, err…”

Another brief pause, accompanied by the rustling of plastic.

“Don’t worry, everyone, she is alive, but she and I are taking a permi…ohshootI mean extended vacation. Now, every one, Nightcore did plan on making that informative broadcast about Tauronto, and we are both really sorry for not making due on that. While Nightcore is not here to talk for her own sake, she does have another taped statement for everyone. It’s very, err…however, you might want to tell the little one’s listening today to cover there ears, it’s not very kind and is rather, oh, how to put this, filthy? I am going to put a few seconds of it on, it’s quite long, about an hour or so, but I am sure you can get the general message from it. Excuse the language, she was…well, she still is, but…she was very angry when she recorded this.”

Yet another pause emanated from the radio, and I nearly jumped when the mare from before started screaming at the top of her lungs!

“Fuck this worthless city! Fuck the zombies in the tower, fuck the Purebred and fuck the slavers! Fuck the N.C.R and fuck the Rangers! Fuck the cult and fuck everyone who is listening to me right now! Fuck everyone who crawls around in this city who doesn't give two fucks about what it will look like the next day! Everyone here is born useless, and any pony who thinks this hellhole can survive next winter without blowing up is wrong! Fuuucckkk yooo-”

The rant was then cut off by the sound of heavy breathing, and the mare on the radio took some time to gather herself. Shakily, she continued.

“Well, that was…very…yes, that was louder than I thought it would have been. Well, was. Err, sorry about that, everyone. Especially the little ones. There is another...well, it isn't a broadcast, but rather a...oh, I would rather not put it on, considering that I really don't know who is hearing this right now."

She paused, almost embarrassed. At what, I supposed, was up for debate.

"Well, that’s…it, I guess. Five years of doing this, and well, this is it. Huh. This…well, sorry, every pony, but... Nightcore and I, we need to go elsewhere. I really am sorry about this; this is obviously going to affect more ponies in more ways besides a lack of background music. Really, I don’t think the city is..”

There was a pause, and, quite suddenly, the radio simply went to static..

No vaguely musical electronic noise, not silence, simple static. I felt somewhat lost on what, exactly, was going on on the other side of the radio, considering what seemed to be the local news source just went stark raving mad and recorded a rant about the place I was going to that didn't sound very nice.

"Huh, that was odd."

I nearly jumped. Blueberry snickered slightly.

Turning my head, I found that she was nibbling on a food bar and was curled up inside the grey blanket, the orb balanced between her chin and the cart.

"Blueberry, you could have given me a heart attack." I grumbled as I turned back around and kept walking.

She tisked.

"Oh, stop it Watchful. Besides, I just got out of this memory orb. Actually, this one is really weird. I wouldn't think you have used one before this one, right?" she said questioningly.

I thought for a moment. Actually, when compared to the one in the case, it was odd. I couldn't tell if I was the pony or myself the entire time.

"Aren’t you supposed to be the creature whose memory you are looking in, mostly?" I said, even if it was phrased rather oddly.

"Well, uh, yeah. How did you know that?" she said, somewhat puzzled. I smirked.

"I read a bit."

Blueberry said nothing for a few minutes.

"Oh, okay. Well, yeah, this orb is weird. I guess it must be experimental or something like that, but it's doesn't seem to have anything important on it or anything like that. Didn't that pony we got this from say it was from a university or something?"

The way she said that pony nearly made me want to pick her up and shake her around, but I kept my voice steady. "Yeah, he did. Blueberry, Anyway, I have a request."

"But I want to talk about the radio and the memory orb and the water talisman, Watchful." she all but whined.

I groaned. "Fine. Blueberry, the radio might be shut down, the orb is strange, and there was no water talisman."

She paused for a few moments. "What, no talisman? What was in the..."

The fact her voice trailed off shakily reminded me that I needed to talk to her about what happened in the aquarium.

"Watchful, where is my tiara." Blueberry said. It wasn't a question so much as a demand.

"Blueberry, you are not getting it back."

Bad move on my part, apparently.

"Watchful, where is it! I need it, and it is mine!" she said, now standing up and voice full of annoyance and need.

"Blueberry, I think it's the cause of your problem." I said simply, not turning my head to meet her gaze. She stomped a hoof indignantly.

"My problem? Watchful, my only problem is that I don't have my tiara. I don't care a-"

"Blueberry, I am talking about your memory loss, and other things. Do you even remember what happened in the aquarium after you got hurt?"

She made a little croaking sound in the back of her throat. "My...the aquarium?"

I sighed. I didn't really want her to cry again. "Blueberry, you put it on right after you got hurt. Can you remember what you did between going in and out of the shark tanks?"

The fact she said nothing was enough, and she was quiet for a very long time.

"But...I had it for so long. I really don't think that anyone...oh..."

I stopped walking when I heard that.

"Blueberry, it's okay now. I would think that, as long as you don't have it, you won't have those black outs as often. And I am here to help you."

She stopped sniffling, and I felt something soft and warm pressed into the lower part of my shoulders. I didn't need to turn around to know it was her face.

"Th-thank you, Watchful, you are a t-true friend, you know that?" she said shakily.

I started walking again. "I could only hope so, Blueberry. You know, we really are alone on this trip, right?"

She laughed lightly. "Oh, I have no doubt we are doomed to do this alone, this little trip to Tauronto."

That reminded me of something. "Blueberry, are we going to have to pass a river to get into the city?"

She raised her head off me and trotted a few steps away from me. "Well, yeah. The river Donk is really big, but there's a big town that has a working bridge called Watershed that's on this path that doesn't charge to let ponies through. Why?"

I shrugged slightly, hiding my intentions in my voice. "Mind if we stay there for a few days? Watershed, I mean."

"Well, yeah, I don't see why not. We have enough caps to pull through, and we don't need to spend money for food. We just need to be quick to get that letter to the Purebreds." she said distantly. "Hey, Watchful, what was down in that aquarium making that water flow, anyway?"

I shrugged again. "It looked like a sort pillar of sorts made out of glass with a plastic base, and it had six orbs filled with white stuff that sort of glittered. There was a big dome in the center filled with light purple stuff, and two of the domes at the top were broken and leaking the stuff inside. There were also a lot of tubes connected to the base, but a lot of them were either underwater or leaking."

"Oh. Well, now I want to see it. Perhaps on the way back?" she said jokingly.

I actually laughed a little. "Maybe, just maybe."

"Speaking of that...ohh!" Blueberry nearly squealed in delight.

Turning my head around, I saw her fumbling around with the purse and its contents.

"Be careful with that, Blueberry. It's the only thing I got out of there." I said somewhat sternly.

"Ah, it has little moons on it. That's adorable." she said softly in return, clearly ignoring me and cradling a long piece of green fabric which, truth be told, did have little half-moons on them.

"Blueberry, please." I said, pleadingly. Groaning, she did so. I chuckled, and kept walking.

After a few minutes of silence, Blueberry nearly said something, but decided against it a few moments later. Finally, I decided to bite.

"What is it, Blueberry?" I said, still in somewhat of a good mood.

She spoke hesitantly. "Oh, just thinking about something your leader said, Watchful."

I blinked. "What was it?"

She giggled nervously. "I can't say for sure, but...didn't he say he was from a stable? Stable 125?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah, it was a surprise for me, too. Why?"

"Well, I only know of a few things about minotaur’s, but I do know that there's only a few in Equestria. I have only seen one or two myself, but there really uncommon there, anyway. But I heard that, a long time ago, there used to be a lot of them living in the southwest, but then they got forced out. Well, I guess I am really asking is what your Elder's real name is."

It took me a few moments to actually remember it, as it was rare that the Elder was ever addressed as anything but. "His real name is Bitter Truth. Why?"

She sighed slightly. "Oh, I was just...well, I was wondering if he was part of them. Apparently, they were wiped out entirely."

"Well, that's slightly upsetting." I said lightly, trying to carry on the conversation. "So, yeah, Watershed is a few days away?"

"Oh, no, it's a day, at most."

Pleasantly surprised, I began walking just a little faster on the road. Blueberry laughed a little.

"Well, what about your Elder, your mother?"

She stopped laughing, to my mild displeasure, and her voice became a little harder. "I thought I already told you my mom's name is Blueberry Sabre, Watchful."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I could practically feel her gaze soften on my back. "Oh, it's no big deal. It's just that I miss her a little." she said, sniffing slightly.

Shifting her weight on the cart a bit, she continued. "What about your mom?"

"Don't know her. Could've been any one of three or four different cows. I look a lot like my dad, so it's hard to tell. I think it was one named Sweet Heart, though."

Blueberry audibly gagged slightly. Was it something I said?

"What do you mean by that, Watchful? What does that even mean?" she said with something between horror and concern.

I sighed. How to explain this? "Blueberry, you know what I said about how the males and females get separated early?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, we get raised like that. I mean, we almost always know our dads, but that's because they make it clear by who they tend to favor. I think the cows would know who there mothers are as well. I really never bothered to ask, in case my mother was anything like my father."

"That's sick. You never got to meet your mother?" she said, almost disgusted. I felt something heavy rise from my stomach, but I suppressed it.

"It's just how things are done. I don't believe ponies do the same thing, but that's just how it works." I said amiably.

Blueberry snorted lightly and I heard the blanket shift slightly. "Well, okay, if that's what you think. It's weird, though."

I chuckled at her flustered reaction, and kept walking on the frozen ground.

Even if I cannot truly hate ponies, I can still find them odd.

Most Important Hotel Room In All of Pony-Canada

Really, besides the wind chill and a growing headache, nothing really happened between the trip from the Seahorse to Watershed.

If anything, there was that the roads were shorter and perhaps better kept, with less obvious signs of decay, probably due to generations of scavenger’s than anything else. No signs of life, wild or not, but I supposed I needed to take what I got, and I suppose everyone needs a bit of quiet after a long series of events that would make anyone question there grip on reality.

Really, the only thing I noticed was that the roadsides were increasingly being cluttered with the remains of old campsites, some fresher than others. I dearly hoped I wasn't going to deal with any bandits or anything. It seemed as if my trip into the savage wastes was going to be rather peaceful, as far as things go.

At least, until someone shot at me.

"Wake up, Blueberry." I said, gently prodding her in the shoulder with a finger.

"Unpf." she elegantly responded, "Whaat time is ittttt...?"

I pointed in the direction of the armed ponies a few feet outside our destination, who was still aiming for at my head.

"It's time for you to convince ponies that I am not about to go on a killing spree."

Blinking slowly, she shuffled out of blanket and onto the ground with a thud, and looked at the pair of ponies standing right in front of us, just a brisk walk away from the town gates. Both were armed and woe nasty looks on their faces.

"Excuse me, sir's, is there a problem here?" she said carefully after waking up fully, batting her eyelashes as she walked over to the guardponies.

The one on the right snorted, and shifted his weight slightly, so that his remarkably armed battle-saddle was shown off. I never realized there was a need for a gun to have four different barrels. "There's a monster outside the gates, miss. I suggest you hurry inside before he gets restless."

Blueberry raised an eyebrow and looked at me, and I shared her look.

"What exactly happened when I was asleep?" she stage-whispered at me.

"I was coming down the road, and I felt something go past my shoulder. Apparently, it was a shotgun shell." I said, barely keeping my own indignation in check. I didn't like the idea of being shot at, frankly.

Turning around, she huffed and walked over the guard on the left, a smaller stallion who was clearly less comfortable holding a gun than his trigger happy friend.

"Look, are you going to let us in or what? We have stuff to trade, but we can always just head back." Blueberry said all too happily, showing off too many teeth. The younger stallion gulped.

"Hey, Redwood, the mare might have a point. It's not like th-the big guy has done anything. I mean, he's probably a hired hoof or something." the meek guard stammered.

The taller stallion. Redwood apparently, grunted and turned his gaze to Blueberry.

"This true, mam?" he grumbled. "He's a friend?"

Blueberry nodded. "Yes, yes he is. He's loyal to me and my caps. He's no issue."

Grunting, the burly one glared at me, and shrugged.

"Fine, ya'll can go inside. Make a bad move, though, creature, and you will be dead quicker than you could blink." he said, apparently upset that I was allowed to live.

At that, Blueberry huffed, and trotted past the stallion with her nose upturned and her head raised high, which would have been effective if he wasn't about three times her size. I just gave my best impression of a friendly smile to the younger guard, who returned it to Blueberry earnestly and to me hesitantly.

Once inside the town, I realized something: Watershed was big, containing more ponies in one place than I have ever seen in my life. Not as big as my home, but close, and it was far louder. Most of the buildings seemed to be at least a story or so, and it seemed most of them were shops and other such things before the bombs, with some eve. I almost felt small in it, which was quickly stopped by nearly every pony in sight stopping to gawk at me, which reminded me, yet again, I was bigger than anyone else in here on virtue of being a minotaur.

Annoyed and embarrassed at the attention, I leaned down and tapped Blueberry on the shoulder.

"We need to find a place to stay, and quick. I don't like my chances out here." I said, only half joking. Blueberry nodded, giving me a cheerful grin, and pointed a hoof at a moderately intact building on the far end of the settlement with a small brown sign hanging off a ledge that declared it to be open.

"I am utterly sure that's an inn we could stay at." she said, certainty in her voice.

Wondering what a 'inn' was, I just nodded my head and kept walking with the cart, trying my best to ignore the stares from onlookers.

""I'm amazed people trust you enough not to attack me, Blueberry." I huffed as I set the cart in front of the inn. "How about you go in and get a room, I will wait out here and guard our stuff."

Blueberry, after laughing slightly, took one of the bags off the cart and trotted inside the building.

I leaned back on the cart, folded my arms, and after settling down on a fluffy bag, looked around.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting, exactly, but as it turns out, pony eyes are even creepier when a few dozen pairs of them were just staring at you.

"What?" I said to no one in particular, voice slightly strained. At that, everyone seemed to go back to whatever they were doing before, thankfully. Pony eyes were far too big, and it amazed me that they don't get hurt more from all the debris floating around in the wastes.

Looking at my left, I got my first good look at the oddly named body of water known as the Donk, flowing sluggishly under what seemed to be a patchwork of wood, rocks, and cardboard that counted as a bridge, iron-grey and splashing lightly against it. I never knew that so much water could exist in one place, and the sound of it sloshing around was making me slightly unnerved.

Looking to my right, I saw a small rock fly at my face.

"Ow!" I said, clutching my nose to make sure it didn't break. Thankfully, it wasn't broken, but it still hurt.

Looking downward, I noticed a giggling group of pony children, one of which was holding a rock with magic.

I growled. After a series of shocked gasps, the little ponies scrambled off on stubby hooves off to somewhere else, and when I turned around, I noticed some of the onlookers giving me appreciative looks.

Leaning back on the cart, I nearly squished Blueberry.

"Hey, we have a room. Lucky us, it has two beds!" she said happily as she turned to me.

Glad that I did not have to see the reactions of the ponies around us to that, I brought up another issue that had crossed my mind.

"What about the cart? We can't just leave it outside."

She grinned. "There's a storage area in the back where merchants can keep there stuff."

"We really are going with that?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

She raised a hoof dismissively. "Well, yeah. Unless you have a better idea."

I shrugged. "Merchant and bodyguard is fine." Better than sociopath and handler, in any case.

The interior of the inn was sparse, if not clean, mostly wood and iron with decent lighting overhead. There was only a few ponies inside, and the only one that really caught my attention besides the one behind the counter was a lax-looking pony with combat armor leaning close to the door.

However, my initial fears proved unfounded when he simply lowered his head back into his magazine and the pony behind the counter hurried me and Blueberry down the hall to our room. After fumbling with a key ring in her mouth for a few moments, the mare unlocked the door and ushered us inside it in a hurried manner.

"Well, Blueberry, you picked a winner." I muttered as I put down our stuff along the wall closest to the door and walked further in after I got a look at the room.

Indeed, while, at one time, the room might have been a decent place to live, the peeling paint and the stale smoke in the air was enough to kill any happy thoughts in my head. The only thing that looked interesting was a barely flickering terminal off to the side of a desk at the far end of the room under a window. which caught my interest.

My small companion, on the other hand, just snickered and plopped on her oversized bed with gusto.

"Oh, relax already! Aren’t you tired yet? You haven't slept in a day, and I am ready to pass out right now! Get some sleep!"

Her words had some truth in it. I never saw myself as an endurance walker, or a endurance anything, for that matter, and as it was my knees were killing me. While I couldn't really feel my limbs, let alone my face, thanks to the chill breeze outside, I was probably visibly exhausted. As such, I just mumbled in reply and put my own stuff on the desk near the window. Two strange messages, a chainsaw-knife, and a handful of the pre-package meals. I actually had forgotten about the combat armor I had, and when I found it under a fat pile of bags I nearly kicked myself. My rebar club, seeing that it was a deadly weapon on par with my also neglected machete, was on the cart as well, which was apparently in a shed out back.

Blueberry only brought two things, which consisted of the grey blanket and her own ranger robes. When I asked why, she said that one should never use the blanket that was already on a hotel bed, which made sense after I realized that it was actually, at one point, colored white.

Ponies are disgusting.

"Hey, Watchful, I have a question, but I don't want to be invasive." Blueberry asked me quite suddenly, after a few good minutes of silence.

I couldn't help but raise a eyebrow as I sat down on the bed, not entirely prepared to lay down on it. "Blueberry, I am completely open. I thought we agreed to not keep secrets?"

He cheerful expression darkened for a few moments, but she simply waved a hoof around and scooted around the bed a bit to get comfy. "Well, it's about your home."

I looked at her a few moments, eyebrow refusing to relax. "Well?"

She gave me a increasingly strange look. "Well...did you have any friends?"

To my own distress, I had to give her question some thought. It was generally accepted that everyone had to know everyone, but it was never said you had to like anyone. Really, there was only Brass and Copper Pot, and both of them were pretty distant company.

"There was Brass and Copper, they were those two who were at the gate when you first arrived. I thought we have talked about this?"

She nodded. "Oh, okay. Tell me about them."

Slightly baffled at where she was going with this, I continued. "Brass is pretty rough around the edges, but she's nice. Copper is a bit odd, but he's good company."

She propped her chin up with a hoof. "Is Copper the one who asked me where I got my stuff?"

"Yeah." I quickly responded.

"And Brass was the quieter one?"

I thought for a moment. "Yeah, she was."

Blueberry looked at me for a few moments, looking puzzled, but quickly put a hoof over her mouth to stop herself from...laughing?

"What's so funny?"

"I thought...female minotaurs...." Blueberry paused to breath, face flushing purple, "had...udders. Like brahman."

I think my brain shut down for a few moments.

"No. No they do not." I managed to say after a few moments of recovering.

"Then how can you...tell, then?"

I gave my best 'please shut up' look at Blueberry, which proved to be useless.

"Well...ug, they have...there must be something else we can talk about. Anything besides...that."

Blueberry stretched out on the bed, and the sound of cracking joints filled the air. Wincing, she pouted lightly and gave me what passed as a pony's puppy-eyed look.

"Well, if you don't want to talk about your home, well, I guess there is one thing we could do."

Sighing, I threw my hands up in exasperation.

At that, for whatever reason, she scooted herself over to the edge of the bed, lowered her head so that her hair started hang off it, and a comb levitated out of some unseen pocket in her robe and floated out to me.

I couldn't see Blueberry's face, but I had no doubt she had a big stupid grin on her face.

"Could you comb my hair?" she said sweetly.

I looked at the yellowish five-pronged comb, grumbled, and took it in hand.

"You owe me for this." I said as I got a decent grip on it between my thumb and my forefinger. It was surprisingly heavy and felt like enamel, which made me wonder what it was made of.

She giggled. "Oh, come on, at this rate, I could never repay you."

Slowly, but surely, I dragged the five-pronged comb across her hair, perhaps a little roughly.

"Hey. heavy-hooved much!" she yelped.

Lifting my arm away from her, I just shook my head. "I would think it would be 'heavy handed'."

Groaning, she snatched the comb out of my hand and used her magic to brush through her hair in surprisingly even strokes.

"Really, Watchful? You know, I was just wondering about how you grew up and all, and it's not like you have been really open about it. You don't talk much about it, either. Don't you miss it?" she pressed.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I do, I admit. I just know that there's no point in talking about it."

Sighing, but smiling, Blueberry crocked her head over to the green-flickering terminal, and to me, comb still working it's way through tangled dark blue strands of mane.

"Hey, Watchful, would you mind seeing what's up with that thing?" she asked, not bothering to raise her head to face me. I wasn't sure what creaked more, the bed or me, but either was Blueberry giggled at my plight.

The terminal was a odd one, thinner than the one's I was used too, and I wondered if it was broken. The blue-green screen was overtaken by a block of seemingly random letters and numbers, and nothing I clicked worked at all. It also seemed like random letters were highlighted, which was undone when I toggled them myself.

iQFCcLkvCd
iNtYCE7IFw
eZWYrltdcW
PepYgpqsol
viYzpskMBk
mnZTJvBPgK
30WzAfBnLM
rR3LFET7uG
rSp1KfKolX
KS8iwTgsHq

Enter?

After a few minutes at staring, I realized I had no clue what I was looking at.

"Blueberry, I think this is broken."

She let the comb drop on the bed and climbed up on the desk chair, and squinted slightly as she tried to see the letters within the glow. The squint was quickly paired with a frown.

"Well, no wonder Watchful. This thing seems to be locked down hard. There's a encryption on here to prevent ponies to even enter in a password.Now I have to see what's on here."

Tapping a hoof on the desk lightly, she prodded a bit on the keyboard, which resulted in the screen looking like a even bigger mess.

iQFCcLkvCd
iNtYCE7IFw
eZWYrltdcW
PepYgpqsol
viYzpskMBk
mnZTJvBPgK
30WzAfBnLM
rR3LFET7uG
rSp1KfKolX
KS8iwTgsHq

Enter?

Staring at the increasingly eye-watering screen, I began to understand why ponies trained others to work with them. They probably didn't want to deal with them themselves.

"Blueberry, what are you trying to do, anyway?"

"Well, normally, a password for this sort of thing would be a date or a name. But this is different than what I am used to, frankly. This must be Belle or Caldonian made or something, it's a portable modal." she said, huffing slightly.

I understood her frustration, considering that she was a Steel Ranger. Technology was half the reason for their existence, the other half most likely being specism.

"Here, let me take a crack at it." I said.

She gave me a dubious look, but she pushed the chair out of my way with her hind legs.

Leaning down, I realized that, as it was, there were patterns in the mess of letters. Clicking on all the highlighted letters and numbers to return them to there original state, I stared at the screen for a few moments, cracked my knuckles, and picked out letters that formed the only word I saw on the screen.

iQFCcLkvCd
iNtYCE7IFw
eZWYrltdcW
PepYgpqsol
viYzpskMBk
mnZTJvBPgK
30WzAfBnLM
rR3LFET7uG
rSp1KfKolX
KS8iwTgsHq
Enter?

Motioning Blueberry over to look at the screen, I realized that the sound of ponies sputtering in disbelief was funny.

Wordlessly, she clicked Enter, and then the screen simply went to a series of individual file names, some more interesting than others.

MoM Files, Greenwell's

-------------------------------------------------------
Under Investigation
-Canterberry Common's Chaotic Commotion Planning

- Canterlot M-T Briefing Generalization

- Listed Associates Of Carmine, Sable & White.

-Joint Caldonian-Crystal Empire Talks Regarding Horwayian Immigration

- That Stitched Bitch From Neighpon And Her Short Stabby Friend.

Looking at the top title, it was clear that this little screen held a lot of information. It seemed that the terminal belonged to a pony named Greenwell and that he belonged to the Ministry of Moral, and that this was his personal files. And what files they were!

I clicked the first one, and was met with nothing.

Mouth downturning, I clicked it again.

Nothing but a Error message.

Giving a quick look at Blueberry, who was busy getting her hair in decent shape, I clicked the one directly below it, which caused the screen to blank out for a moment and reappear with a short blurb replacing the main files.

-CMTBG- Make sure MoAS get's funding within Tauronto, fuck with everything else.

I could only blink at the abruptness. For what seemed to be a official something, it seemed very informal. Clicking on a triangle-shaped icon at the far left of the screen got me back to the files page, and so I clicked the third one from the top.

Associates Of Carmine, Sable & White
---------------------------------------------------

Blueblood- 6 to 7 bastards running around, open secret. Funds heading to unknown goal. Possible affair with Rarity?

Sunny Skies- Griffon workers are paid half the bits of pegusi regarding employment at Sunny Windfarms. Also, tax evasion.

Fancy Pants- N/A Need's work. Seems to be a saint, so he must have a sex dungeon hidden somewhere or another.

Fleur-location unknown. Saddle Arabia? Prance?

Chieftan Blackhorn- Investigate connections with pan-Buffalo extremist groups.

Goldenblood-Possible Zebra ties? Hoofington tunnels require investigation. Actually, just investigate everything.

Twilight Sparkle-Investigate three-year period in which funds were funneled. Possible ties with Goldenblood?

Shining Armor- Possible infidelity, leaking of both Equestrian and Empirical military secrets? Secret-swapping between siblings?

Flim & Flam-Audit required. Tax evasion and poor working conditions also need investigation.

Shady Sands- Hooves in oil scandal? Insider in Saddle Royal Family?

Doctor Sutetchi and Naifu: Illegal immigrants? Confirmed and to be tried for multiple cases for all of the following: One hundred and fifty-seven counts of medical malpractice, fifteen counts of aggravated murder (Naifu), seventy counts of extortion, twenty-two counts of patient abuse, one count of torture (Naifu), one count of assisted suicide without proper authorization, eight counts of preforming vivisections without anesthesia, one count of the abuse of a minor (Sutetchi to Naifu), twenty two counts of inducing magically triggered comas into patients without authorization, eight counts of the creation and distribution of snuff films, seven counts of assault (Naifu), and eighteen counts of equine experimentation. Also, she made Fluttershy cry. Note: See relevant file for full details.

Cadance- Crystal Empire giving favors to outside companies?

Scootaloo, Sweetie Bell & Apple Bloom- Investigate connections with Ministry leaders.

Iron Will- Investigate connections with northern minotaur terrorists. Also pry into possible MoP funding irregularities.

The last name made me stare at the screen for a little bit. Presumably, the names on the file were all important figures, some more important than others, and the blurb about the ponies with the odd names made me wince several times. I clicked the little triangle at the bottom and found myself at the files page. I clicked all the other links, but nothing happened when I clicked on any other little blurb. Apparently, the files were either locked or the links were dead.

Getting up off my knees, I took to my bed, feeling sore as ever and now with a growing headache.

"Anything interesting?" Blueberry said boredly.

I almost didn't say anything, but eventually I worked up a response.

"Not really. Just a bunch of stuff before the war. Something about ministries."

Her ears perked up, but her voice stayed even. "Oh, okay. I might look at it later."

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the crackly noise of a half-working computer and my breathing.

"We might want to tell that mare up front. About the two-hundred year old half working terminal we just fixed."

I wanted to shake my head, but my horns were doing a number on the walls already. "Naw, why do we need to? And if she was interested in the thing, she would have moved it herself."

"Let's go to a bar." Blueberry said slowly.

"What? What does that have to do with the termi-"

She waved her front in the air, which might have been more effective if she was not lying on her back.

"Nothing at all. Come on, let's go to a bar." she said, voice filled with cheer.

"Blueberry, it's still early in the morning. And I don't want to go to a bar." I said, slightly annoyed at her antics.

"What do you mean you don't want to go to a bar? Look, you sit down, you order a drink, and you try and have fun."

"I don't know how sitting around with a bunch of ponies drinking is fun, Blueberry. Neither are fun by themselves, and I doubt they go great together."

"Watchful, I really don't want to go by myself. I mean, I could bring something for protection, but I don't want to be the mare that reduced the town drunk to a pile of ashes."

I looked at her cheeky grin, and wondered just how much she remembered about how she me into this mess in the first place.

"Blueberry, I will go, but I refuse to drink." I said as seriously as I could muster, tired as I was.

Grinning, she rolled over on her stomach and promptly fell asleep.

After a few minutes of musing on the contents of the other folders on the terminal, so did I.

Something purred on my chest.

I, groggily, opened my eyes.

It wasn't the little manticore kitten from before, at any rate.

I spotted something like the curve of a horn, or perhaps a long fang on what might have been a head. Its limbs were not simply paws and claws but teeth and wet muscle and little rubbery feelers. Something that might have been a ribcage or a set of thick insectoid wings daintily flicked the air occasionally.

Staring at the creature, I eventually blinked. But when I opened my eyes, I simply saw blackness.

Something purred on my chest.

"Oh, hi there, Watchful!"

I opened a single eye.

I, unfortunately, discovered that there was nothing past my chest, the rest simply gone.

Sea Salt looked at me, her huge head taking up the entirety of the far side of the bed, smiled, and slurped the leg that was hanging on the side of her mouth.

I shut my eyes.

Something purred on my chest.

I didn't open my eyes.

Something licked my biceps.

I took a peep.

Something that might have been a pony once, two hundred years before the war, looked at me. Glazed over brown eyes looked at me questioningly, and the dry corpse took its rot-slimy mouth off my chest and stared at me.

"Hello, Ever Watchful." it wheezed.

I closed my eyes again, and I might have screamed.

Something purred on my chest.

I opened my eyes.

I looked at the little manticore on it. It seemed pleased.

I opened my mouth, wordlessly.

It licked a paw absentmindedly.

"What are you, exactly?"

The little creature cleared its throat, and propped itself on its two rear legs.

It then began to stretch sinuously, never gaining any mass but shifting it's form and features until it was slightly taller and far more twisted. Its face melted into itself and suddenly stretched into a muzzle, and a single horn, thin and curled, grew out from the left side of its head. One arm grew thin, with three red wispy thin talons from what was once a paw, and the other was a dark grey and bulked until it was far thicker and more ursine. Its legs were different as well, with one resembling a beige ponies, while the other being a mottled white-black brahmains. Its tail was still that of a scorpion, however, albeit far longer and colored a glossy black.

I stared at the creature. It looked at me with two miss-matched eyes, one pale pink and ovoid and the other slanted and green. Both were filled with carefree mirth.

"Mine now." it said, giggling girlishly at it pointed to my side. My right, to be exact.

I blinked.

Waking up, I felt oddly tired, even after a decent sleep. I honestly never enjoyed dreams, and at this point I was prepared to throw in the towel. That was, by far, the most freakish experience of my life. I probably needed help, or at least some sort of medication. I mean, really now, a tiny draconequus? A tiny little fun-size god?

The corpse hooker of dubious gender and Sea Salt wasn't pleasant either. Which reminded me that I did, in fact, see a big building far downriver that seemed like it was what the sea pony was talking about.

Grunting, I rolled over to my side, at which point I needed to catch myself on the desk beside the bed so that I didn't fall on the tiny pony-made bed.

Unfortunately, the noise I made doing so woke Blueberry up.

"Uh...dang it...wha...Watchful?" she said, sounding upset.

Feeling somewhat upset myself, I responded gruffly, trying to get comfy on a bed that was far too small for me to get comfortable in. "Yes?"

"I...I have been thinking, and I just had this really weird dream...and you don't have to come with me, if you want."

The silence in the room was incredibly sad; to me at least, as both of us knew something was wrong and refused to take note of it.

"Blueberry...what was your dream about, exactly?" I said, hoping that, perhaps, the food we ate before was bad from two hundred years of existence and we all just had a bad trip on slightly moldy protein bars.

"Well," she said, shifting her head onto the pillow more, "I was home. And there were other ponies with me. And I just walked away from home, and it got blown up, and then everyone followed me, but they..." she breathed in hastily "they just kept dying. From griffons, but they really weren’t griffons, but they had wings and beaks and guns, and that really is beside the point." She choked slightly. "It was eventually down to me and my mom, in front of this big set of iron doors, and then she went inside, and it was filled with dead ponies, and... and then a big griffon came down from the sky and..."

She didn't finish, and just lazed on her back, looking at the cracked ceiling.

"Do you...have issues with griffons?" I said, questioningly. I spared a look at my right hand. The little mark, to my surprise, was gone.

Blueberry breathed in deeply. "I don't...I don't have issues with them personally, I mean, I'm not...like that, Watchful, for shame, but a lot of Talon mercenaries fight for Red Eye, and they carry the best guns out of all his troops. They have killed more ponies in the Rangers than I would think any other group has." she said, sniffling slightly.

I nodded. I was always told griffons were the only creature in the wastelands who could take my kind in a purely physical fight, if only because of there claws and beak.

"That's understandable, Blueberry. Do you still want to go to that bar?"

She blinked with weepy eyes, looked at me funny, and broke out into a little fit of laughter. I really didn't see what was so funny.

"Oh, Watchful, you know, you really are silly, trying to help me." she said, face mostly blank despite the smile on it. For a moment, I was reminded of Sea Salt, and not in a good way.

I paused, feeling slightly...angered? "Blueberry, I am not going to leave, and I am going to try and help you."

She turned to her side, and got off the bed with a little huff.

"You know, you really are something, not saying anything about sharing a room with a little mare like me."

I knew she was trying to change the subject, but I yielded and played the dumb act. "What do you mean?"

Slightly surprised, she looked at me from the floor, looked at the door a few feet away, and broke out into another bout of laughter.

"Oh, goddesses, you really are just something, aren’t you? Come on, let's get drunk and cause a scene."

"No, you can get drunk. I don't want to drink."

"Oh, fine. "

The Yodeling Dragon was just as run down inside as it looked outside, but was also crowded, which was something I was starting to associate with Watershed as a whole. At least two dozen or more ponies were sitting either at the bar or playing games, and yet somehow every one of them took time out of there efforts to look at the pair of us oddly. I ignored them the best I could.

After I bent down on my knees to walk inside, I followed Blueberry to the bar and the thought of why, exactly, I was here, struck my mind yet again. I didn't want to find out how many pony-sized drinks it would take to get me drunk, and while it wasn't like we were low on bits, from what I could tell, the whole possess of getting stupid was overrated and led to conflict.

However, if anything, I could find Blueberry struggling to get on the barstool funny. Taking a seat between her and a large grey stallion with a full beard, I realized I needed to put my elbows on the counter not to bump either of them with my arms. The stallion next to me, grizzled looking himself, looked at me wearily and downed his drink.

I turned to the barpony, smiling slightly to myself. Blueberry just looked at me questioningly, and shrugged.

"Okay, I really don't want to force you to do this, I mean, really." She said, waving a hoof around. "I mean, have you even had alcohol before, or..."

No, but that was beside the point. "Can't we just order sodas?"

She rolled her eyes. "Watchful, if we do that, we are liable to get thrown out. Well, somepony will try to, for a few minutes, anyway. Do you want a mixed drink?"

"A mixed drink?"

"Well, yeah. It's alcohol with better tasting stuff. Like juice."

I thought for a moment. "Okay, that sounds great, but let's agree to stop one another if one of us get's too drunk."

She nodded, smiled, and rattled something off to the barpony that involved cactuses and something called a Hellhound Leash.

"And daht ish why pones arsh the besht!" Blueberry said triumphantly, red faced and utterly smashed.

I boredly flicked the rim of my first and only glass, still halfway full of thick brown liquid. To be fair, Blueberry was just on her second one, but the drink she ordered seemed to be made mostly from lost dreams and bitter tears.

"C’mon, Washtfol, can't you chear up? Your shush a bore!" she put a hoof near my ribs, her magic on her glass still somehow holding it. "Live a little!"

Frowning, I looked at the rest of the bar. At this point, nearly everyone else was gone, and even the barpony was giving me a nearly pleading look.

"You knoush whuat Ia think?" she drained the rest of her glass in a single gulp. "Letsh talsh aboush our, uh, familsh! Not like we havent done that enough. Hah!"

Slamming the glass on the bar, it shattered all over it. The barpony, to my surprise, said nothing and just walked out of the room.

"My mum, she is the...the beshed one evare!"

"Blueberry, you’re older than me. You can't be so attached to your parent's like this."

"You knosh, whean...whean Ish goash and play the...the other pones, she...." her face scrunched up, and she looked at the glass shards on the table carefully."She alwash shelped me, Watshful."

I sighed, and with a hand brushed all the glass off the counter and onto the floor on the barponies side. Blueberry giggled drunkenly.

"You knowsh, she told me...whan Ish whant borne...Ish was perfect....just a widdle, wilddle foal, and whan I shwod her stuff, I...I fixed, she sade that the onle thing that...I woald have been wreally good if I didn't haed a horn...than...than I coald be alike her!"

Hiccupping, she grinned at me, head swaying slightly as if off balance. I realized what she was saying, and scowled. However, I knew that talking to her while she was utterly drunk was a futile effort, and so in a swift motion I put her under an arm and began walking out.

"Heysh, shtap!" she said, distantly and annoyed, wiggling her limbs in a weak effort to be free from my tyrannical grip.

"Blueberry, your drunk. We are going back to our room." I said, tiredly.

Standing, I looked around the bar, and felt rather uneasy when I realized that we really were the last one's out. Stepping over a abandoned glass and a puddle of something brown, I made my way for the door.

However, right before I went out, something clicked behind me.

I knew the sound of a gun.

"No, you an't, boy." the bartender said, voice hard and full of spite.

Hearing that, I broke out into a dash, turning a corner down the dark road, escaping the sound of whizzing bullets with a drunken pony under a arm.

Of course, I then found three other ponies out in the only lit part of the road, unnervingly close to the hotel we were staying, one holding a large hammer with magic and the other baring axes in there mouths. Each turned to look at me as I ran down the street, and I could tell they were grinning.

"This is for my big brother, beast." Redwood said, pawing at the ground with a forehoof and swinging his hammer in the air," I am going to enjoy this."

And then they charged.

Author's Note

Catch the references, there's two!

The Enemy of Your Enemy is Still Your Enemy.

I could tell that I couldn't outrun any of the armed ponies and turning back wasn't really an option. What would I do, take cover?

Accordingly, I shifted my weight, and threw my arms around my sides (as best as I could with Blueberry shoved under my left one) and grunted exaggeratedly. It was the same general stance I saw that worked on scaring off scavengers

To my dismay, the trio kept running, and the unicorn let out a wordless whoop of bloodlust, which was echoed by his lackeys.

I lowered my horns, and hoped this would end better for me than for them.

While I couldn't see my attempted murderers with my head low, the sounds of hooves on worn street did not let up.

Finally, I gave up with trying to pretend they would stop, shrugged my shoulders, and charged, throwing my head around doing my best impression of a seizure suffer, which, in fact, is one of the better way to utilize a pair of horns nearly as wide as one was tall.

However, to my shock, they did not break rank as I would have wanted them too, and when I stopped running near the other end of the street and reared back up, I saw that one of the axe-users was on his side, moaning horribly. Looking up, I noticed that there was a strip of flesh hanging off my right horn like an ornament, bloody and shredded. I also noticed a tooth, and at that moment I quickly turned my widening gaze to the two other ponies assisting there friend in hopes of stopping the fight.

Suddenly, I heard a crack of thunder, and I felt a small sharp pain on my right side, near my ribs. Putting my free hand on it, I didn't need to look at it to know it was bleeding.

I always knew getting shot hurt, but this was new. And painful. Getting to my knees, I was conflicted between either taking the limp pony at my side and using her as a projectile to take out one of the ponies and then bash him over the head with my own head, or to simply charge again and try and tackle them all in one go.

The sensible, planning part of my brain shriveled, however, when another burst of buckshot grazed my left shoulder. Putting Blueberry down on the ground, I simply kicked a leg at the ground for a few moments to prepare before running forward, arms forward against my chest, to the ponies.

Redwood might have said something, but I didn't hear it over the sound of my left hand slamming into his nose, which caused a painful crunch for both his nostrils and my hand. His earth pony friend tried to swing an axe to my back when I was turned to his leader, but I smacked his head hard with my entire left arm, which sent him down on his side. Neither pony stirred much, but, to my slight horror, the nearly jawless pony a dozen feet away or so wasn't moving at all.

The impact of realizing that I might have committed murder lessened lightly when I felt the gun wounds tingling lightly, like little burning fingers trying to wiggle there way into my sides. On that note, mind sharpened by pain, I barged inside the bar in search of the shooter.

After finding him, I nearly lost what little I had ate and drank that day, as the main reason he was unable to scream more slurs at me being that his gun was in his mouth, and the needed organ for thought was making a pink-grey mural on the wall.

Eventually, my head somewhat light from blood loss, and recovering from the very thought that I just fought a handful of ponies who wanted to kill me for whatever reason and won, I decided to pile the three goons around the brain-scant bartender and left the door open. Out of a half-hearted hope to clean my wounds, I took a dip into of the Donk River.

It was cold, far colder than that of the aquarium water, but it was less slimy. Despite this, however, the stink of sewage made me almost miss the dead fish aroma of the Seahorse, and I only stayed in it enough to make sure the liquid dripping down my sides wasn't red and that the piece of pony on my horn was dislodged. I tried not to step too deep, as the muck was seemingly more organic in a slimy way that reminded me horribly of Emerald Sea. Looking down the somewhat visible riverbank, I noticed that there was, in fact, a large building on my side of the river,off to the east, and it seemed somewhat stable. After a few moments of thought, I decided to visit it the next day, if I lived for that long. After a minute or so of barely tolerate cleaning up, I fetched my drunken traveling partner.

Blueberry, to my amusement, was still out cold, and made a light snoring sound when I tossed her on my non-bleeding shoulder and walked inside the inn we were staying in. The guard who was there before was gone, oddly enough, and it really did seem as if I was the only one awake inside. Which was unlikely, as far as things went, as it seemed to me that everyone in the wasteland expected to be killed by every other member of the wasteland at some point in time. If anything, the lack of ponies simply made me scared.

After passing through the silent grey corridor that smelled oddly of paint, I shimmied into our dwelling and laid Blueberry on the grey-lit bed.

It was that moment that I realized that the candle on the table was lit.

Neither of us, of course, lit it, because there wasn't a candle when we left.

I heard something cough. Jumping slightly, I quickly scanned the room.

On the far side of the room, near the window, a comparatively tall, angular dark blue unicorn with a curly red mane, clad in oddly ornate scaly leather jacket with a red undershirt and...ruffles around his neck was looking at me inquisitively, as if I was the unexpected guest. He blended in with the darkness, and I took a few steps forward, preparing to fight,

"Hello there, minotaur. I was wondering where you were." The unicorn said, sounding affable and conversational, almost kindly as if he was not standing in the middle of someone else's room,uninvited, in the middle of the night.

Standing there, bleeding lightly, tired, and still slightly wet, all I could do was nod and stand where I was. If he was going to kill me, he didn't look the part. He seemed friendly enough and I was tired with the general bullshit of the day I was having so far, and, furthermore, he seemed unarmed. Tiredly, I pointed a finger at him from across the room.

"Were those your goons?" I said, sighing lightly as I slowly moved my left hand closer to the desk.

He turned up his nose. "Goons? The ponies causing a ruckus a few moments ago?" He looked at me for a moment, and his mouth then broke into an o-shape. "Oh, I can understand why you must think I am...ah, excuse my rudeness. I was unaware you were coming back from an attempted lynching. Accept my apologies." he said offhandedly.

"No."

He raised an eyebrow, but chuckled. "I suppose this is all a mite odd, but must I suppose you are wondering who I am?"

I looked at him. Unicorn. Fancy clothing. Combed hair. Disregard for privacy. Only one real option, in the end.

"You are one of those 'Purebreds' I keep hearing about." I said cautiously.

His smile and slow nod made me want to hit him. His face looked naturally punchable.

"Ah, well, in that case, my name is Troubadour, and I am, indeed, a member of the Purebreds." he said, bowing lightly.

Standing straight against the wall, I looked at the stallion for a moment before responding.

"My name is Ever Watchful, and I want to know why you are in my room." I said, unamused by his flightiness.

Unperturbed, he looked at the still pony on the bed curiously. "And who is this? A friend? A lover?"

Gagging slightly, I cut him off with a wave of a hand. "I am her bodyguard. As you can see, she needs guarding, as she is drunk and strange ponies like you tend to show up in our way. Give me a reason why I should not toss you through the wall." I said, being as blunt as I could be. I felt as if I was switching back into 'guard' mode.

He turned his head to his right for a moment, and I knew that the thought that I could knock him through the admittedly thin wall was a distinct possibility. Coughing lightly, he looked at the desk that had most, if not all of the stuff I personally cared about on.

"That must certainly be a fascinating story, but let's cut to the chase, err, Ever Watchful, yes?"

I nodded. He laughed off my darkening look with a wave of his hoof.

"Well, I suppose you know who Charnel is, yes? The former N.C.R colonial?"

I raised an eyebrow, confused. "She's not, anymore? A member of them, I mean."

He looked at me, eyes widening slightly. "I must ask, you are not on some sort of righteous mission to avenge some relative or another for a brutal death at her hooves, correct? That happens from time to time."

I stared at the stallion, and I had to bite down a peal of laughter. "No, no, not yet, anyway. I am, however, carrying a bit of information regarding her. I suppose you wish to obtain it?"

He nodded. "Indeed. I doubt it was publicly announced, but it was stated on Dise's radio local station. Retired, without a doubt, presumably heading for Tauronto."

Something wasn't right. "Wait, if she didn't alert you that I was coming up, then why are you here?"

Troubadour blinked, and for a moment I thought I would have to make due on my words on throwing him into the wall. "It's simple, really. I saw Blueberry traveling with you, and knew I needed to speak with you eventually. I expected you to be awake, though," he dragged a hoof across the floor lightly;” I did not expect to speak to her by proxy."

I blinked. "You know Blueberry? She said something about nearly joining you’re group a few days ago."

He looked at the little form on the bed and nodded, face an expressionless mask.

"Yes, she was nearly a member a few years ago, but she vanished. I doubt anyone really remembers her; she never did do much for the group as a whole. I really just remember her from her..." he fumbles lightly with his words. " Figure."

I really didn't know how to respond to that, so I simply went on with what I believed was in order.

"Disregarding that statement, you might wish to know that..." my eyes shifted to the cream envelope "I must ask if you are a friend of Charnel."

He blinked, and began to laugh. Hard. He almost broke into tears, and he needed to lean on the side of my bed to support his weight.

"Good heavens, no! Almost the complete opposite, in fact! “he barely got out, "in fact, it is the exact opposite!"

I was somewhat relived that, at the very least, the pony who broke into my room could be considered an ally of sorts. Which raised another question.

"You seem like a decent enough pony," I said, gesturing to his clothing,” but as it is, going into someone's room at night is pretty high on the list of things you should not do. Really, I would think that some pony who thinks they are a noble would be polite."

I realized I said the wrong thing when he stopped laughing and looked at me like I just insulted him.

Oh, wait.

"Minotaur, I insist you take that back. You know nothing about nobility." he said, voice unchanged but face hardening. "My kin ruled from Canterlot while your kind was still on there way to understand fire. No, minotaur, you will not lecture me on what I am allowed to do."

I was prepared to come back with a witty retort, in that I was going to take a page from ponykind's book and name the closest object near me Witty Retort and bash the unicorn over the head with it, but Blueberry sniffled and yawned lightly, which caused the shadowy pony in the room to pause before softening his gaze.

"Perhape's this was not a good time to talk. I will take the letter to my mistress and leave for Tauronto. We will talk, later, eventually." he picked up the letter with a grey cloud of magic, and shuffled it into some pocket obscured by the dark. "I wish you and Blueberry luck in your travels, but I will inform you that you will not be rewarded if you come to the Ritz. Charnel will be dealt with, but for now you have no use to me or my leaders. Sleep well."

And with that, he simply trotted off out the room and out the open door, warping the candlelight as he passed. It was also at this point that I noticed that the terminal light was off, either powered down or broken. Presumably, the stallion might have helped himself to the files.

I waited about thirty minutes standing there, waiting for the sounds of hooves trotting to stop at first, and then simply standing there out of suspicion and paranoia.

After a while, I hit my head lightly against the wall behind me, in an attempt to wake up from the nightmare I was in.

Realizing I really did hurt, from the real wounds on my side and shoulder and my neck and my legs and my everything, I slumped down the wall noisily, and, after seeing the small body on my bed shift lightly and curl up in my sheets, I sighed and shut my eyes, and realized that, at this point, I could probably sleep anywhere.

By the time I dozed off into slumber land, I realized I barely knew what the hell was going on anymore.

Level Up!

Perk Gained!
Favored Enemy-Equinoids: Your a natural at taking down four legged creatures of equine stock, it be because of your build or your hatred of them. Your melee attacks have a 20% higher chance to cripple the limbs or body parts of ponylike creatures .

Author's Note

First "fight" in the fanfic. This fic probably has set a record for how little fighting actually get's done with a POV character pretty much perfect for rampage-y fighty stuff. In F:E fics, anyway.

At The Very Least, It Seems Friendly.

I was woken from my slumber on moldering floorboards by the sound of something mechanical moving outside, which surprised me nearly as much as the fact that the sound was familiar.

Clink-whir

I also noticed the sound of screaming, dozens of hooves hitting ground, and gunfire. Lots of gunfire.

Getting up, I noticed it was still dark outside, and that Blueberry was off near her bags eating a food bar, stuffing everything she brought with her and more into the bags at her feet. When she noticed me moving, she quickly swallowed a mouthful and motioned me to look at the window, and I noticed that her hair was an utter wreck and her hooves were darkened to a sickly purple with what was most definitely blood.

"Watchful, what the hell is going on? First I wake up and you'r wounded, and now there's a tank shooting up the town!" she said, clearly more frightened than upset, eyes wild and hair sticking to her forehead, probably from sweat.

I looked to my side, and to my distaste I must have opened the wound on it when I was asleep, as there was a fresh trail of blood running down my calves.

Scratch that, I did, because I felt it. It still hurt, but now it itched slightly.

"You got too drunk to walk, and some ponies tried to kill me." I said gruffly, resisting the urge to open up the scab with a twitchy finger as I looked at the stuff on the table. Everything was where it was supposed to be, except for the letter. Which was taken by a stallion that I didn't really know off somewhere. For all I knew, Charnel was waiting outside to try and eat me.

Blueberry's frown upturning lightly at my words, she pointed a hoof to my shoulder and spoke franticly. "Well, when I woke up, you were bleeding everywhere, and I tried to clean up," she pointed to where I was slouched, and to my dismay, the floor was shiny and sticky with blood, "and that....thing from Braymont is outside, and it's opened fire on the town! What is going on with this place! Why are they here!"

I stretched my back, and rubbed at my side. "Why didn't you wake me up if you were so scared? And are you sure it's the same one?"

An explosion of sound initiated from outside, which I realized was due to an actual explosion happening, as the ground shook for a few moments afterwards.

After taking her stuff off her own bed and stuffing it into her green bag, she snarled at the window and looked at me, red eyed. Metaphorically, in this case, so I wasn't entirely worried.

"Oh, shut up Watchful, didn't think I tried?! We can talk later, we need to get out of here as quickly as we can, because that thing is working it's way through town, and that last explosion was really clo-"

The clink-whir outside stopped, and a groan of something large and heavy making a hissing noise filled the air.

Blueberry and I shared a look of panic.

And then the wall exploded.

In a burst of brown and red, accompanied by the sound of something exploding and things generally going to hell as the building began to fall apart.

Covering my head with a forearm, I did my best impression of a leaping frog and landed on all three spare limbs and a painfully positioned elbow, Blueberry yelping as she suddenly found herself having me between her and air.

At first I thought that she would try to stab me with her horn the way she thrashed against me, but that stopped when the entire building made ominous creaking sounds, and the two-hundred year old ceiling decided to give up on holding itself together. Surprisingly, the roof itself didn't really hurt hitting my back, as it was mostly flimsy water-damaged wood and metal anyway. What did hurt, however, were my ears, as they kept ringing and the only thing, to my despair, was Blueberry shrieking under me, huddled in a ball.

"Blueberry, shut up." I said, or at least I hoped I did. The ringing in my ears would not stop, and I couldn't hear my own voice very well.

Blueberry, however, did stop screaming.

After what seemed to be a few minutes, I reared up out of the rubble that covered me, wincing as I did. It wasn't so much that it was painful to get up as it was to see my surroundings.

First off, the hotel was gone.

As was most of the town.

It was quieter, but it wasn't because the ponies managed to escape. Even from my spot in the rubble of a building off to the side of the main center of the town, I could see a dozen or so still forms.

However, what really concerned me was the tank. It was still night, but the fire helped me get a better look at it than I did before, which made me gulp slightly.

It actually resembled one of the gas-powered chariots and carts I saw displayed at the store a few days before, but it was far more low slung and far more intimidating. A great big gun was mounted on a steel frame right on the metal head of the mechanical behemoth, and there was indeed a set of ponies sitting on the couch on the front, albeit a pair that I could not see. The red paint, which I also noticed had thin red stripes, was illuminated hellishly by the tanks own lighting and the fire around it, and I noticed that the front set of wheels, for there were two, were big and protected by great big curved sheets of metal.

I also noticed the dozen or so ponies in combat armor surrounding it, shooting anything moving that wasn't one of there own. Going by the increasing rarity of pained groans and sobs from downed ponies, they probably have decent aim.

Unfortunately, one of them noticed me, and aimed a battle-saddle mounted gun at me.

As did most of the others around him.

The tank gun swiveled to me as well.

"Who goes there!" the pony, an older stallion, yelled out over the sounds of carnage.

I thought for a few moments, the faint buzzing in my ears hurting my thought process. Presumably, saying who I really was, regardless of innocence, would get me shot. Really, I half-remembered through the haze that was my mind, there was only one real group I had yet heard anything bad about.

"A member of the Watchers! I was here to help!"

The group of armed ponies was stunned for a moment, looking rather confused about what to do with the big figure in the shadows that they faced. It seemed that some sort of conversation occurred between the stallion and the ponies on the tank, and finally the pony simply made a dismissive gesture and the group continued down the road.

My jaw was doing it’s best to separate itself from my head. I have no explanation on how that worked, or why, but we were still alive.

I took that as a cue to jerk Blueberry to her feet and run.

We quickly got to where the "back rooms" would have been to get our stuff, but an issue revealed itself to us quite quickly; after we spent a few frantic minutes to get past piles of junk that belonged to newly-dead ponies to get to our stuff out from under the thin layer of building.

While our belongings were mostly unharmed, it seemed that the cart was. A wheel, broken off, rendered it unusable.

"We can't take it all." Blueberry said, mostly sad to see her main method of transportation go than anything else.

Nodding, I picked up my few belongings and put it in the green bag that was already on her sides, only somewhat ffilled with a mix of Sea Salts and her stuff. She glared at me.

"Not funny, Watchful. We have enough food for Tauronto, but..." she pointed to her half-dozen bags on the slouched over mechanical mess. "I can't take all this. And we need most of this."

I scanned the carts contents. At least two were filled with mechanical scrap, with one of those holding some of Blueberry's secret stuff that I was intent on keeping hidden, and another was of my stuff. The other items were bigger; the set of combat armor, the machete, the rebar club, and the sad former-radio. I was almost happy to see that I would not have to explain for breaking the radio, as it being rendered into scrap made questions along that line redundant.

"Blueberry, I can get most of our stuff if we leave my weapons and armor here." I offered, already scooping one of her bags and my own and getting them nicely on my right shoulder, like two one-looped backpacks.

She almost said something against it, but she noticed her laser pistol, smiled a little, and put it to her side in a little holster that I didn't see her put on. I noticed that she quietly stuffed her robe into her bag as well. "Okay, Watchful, I don't like it, but if you want the one who makes the sacrifices around here..."

She said it like it was funny, but before I could respond, we both heard a tell-tale clink-whirr and she dropped her smile.

"I wonder if they are going to try and kill us?" she said, turning her head to the faint figure of the tank moving out to the bridge. "Good call on that, though. There probably from Dis or something. It's generally considered bad taste to shoot at Watchers."

Grunting, I managed to put all of our stuff on my shoulders, forcing me to bend my knees slightly.

"Well, I don't think I could pass for a Ranger, Blueberry."

She laughed throatily, sore from screaming, and looked at my sides and my own wounded shoulder.

"Oh, don't put yourself down. I will make a fighter of you yet. Thanks for that, back there. You really got in a fight at that bar?"

Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was a thin line. I sighed slightly, and pointed over to the big building out over to the right of the town that used to be the bar with a thumb.

"Yeah, it was bad. Blueberry, let's not talk until we get somewhere safer, like anywhere else there isn't roving gangs of ponies with tanks."

She opened her mouth, but closed it again, face flushed. "Like where? We can't go back."

I winced at her words, not really appreciating how close I was to simply believing I could just flutter my eyes and wake up, and pointed to the big building again.

This time she turned.

"Oh. I take back that comment I said about you not seeing things, by the way."

I almost had no idea what she was talking about.

"Oh, really, you still remember that?"

Her body freezes up, and she gave me the most vicious little look I have ever seen on a pony, teeth bared like a rabid animal and eyes like little knives. Without another word, she simply turned around and began to walk over to the big building, acting like she didn't care if I followed.

I then realized what I said.

Shit.

"Blueberry, I'm sorry! I am so sorry!" I said, catching up as fast as I could with a few dozen pounds of luggage on my back, which wouldn't have been an issue if my sides, shoulders, back, and pretty much everything hurt like the dickens.

Blueberry stopped when I got reasonably close to her, and I was almost relived, until she started talking.

"You are going to take ten steps away from me right now." she said simply, with just the slightest edge of spite.

I did what she said, half out of guilt and half because of the fact I was scared for my life.

I stood there for what felt like half an hour, Blueberry's form getting increasingly smaller in the dark as we moved away from the wreck that was Watershed, and I thought I would stay there for the rest of my life until it, against all odds, began to rain.

I almost didn't think it was rain when I felt the first drop trickling down my horn, first thinking it was some non-existent spray that somehow leaped from the river beside me, but that thought was quenched when more and more drops fell. I was stunned, as it really cold outside and I was still somewhat warm from the heat of the fires.

As such, I broke out into a dead sprint for the big building, running not only to catch up with Blueberry, but to get out of the freezing rain.

The building was rectangle-shaped, with some part of it actually hanging over the river proper. Whatever it used to be was of no importance, however. What it was, however, was a mostly dry, empty husk that was decent protection from the rain.

Blueberry waited for me outside, saying nothing, but there was a door that was still locked, and my purpose was clear.

After a quick kick, we both huddled inside. It was, even with its locked state, seemed cleared out of stuff, Blueberry's horn-light showing a vast expanse of nothing worth risking possible vermin attacks.

Saying nothing, Blueberry dragged a busted-open shelf, shoved it full of half-moldering paper scraped messily off the floor, and I was nearly going to question her when she took out Self Defense and ignited the pile of junk with a green burst of magic. After a few moments, I simply took the bags on my back off and put it down on the moist concrete floor, sat down, and looked at the blue pony sulking on the other side of the makeshift fire pit.

We stared at one another for a few moments.

I gave in first.

"I really am sorry." I said, pleadingly.

She looked at me, and through the fire it looked like she was judging me.

"I know. I...overreacted." she muttered, stomping on an ember that didn't die when it hit the ground.

Sitting there, we were both tired, smelled of smoke, were both somewhat hot from nearly burning to death and running, and were still cold because of the eternally cold concrete that we couldn't risk getting our nicer stuff wet.

"No, you didn't. I would have done the same if..."

I paused for too long, and Blueberry moved a little closer to the fire, sniffing lightly.

"Don't say that. You have done a lot, Watchful. Too much. I...your practically my guardian, at this rate. You have saved my life, twice, at least, from what I...know." she said, adverting her eyes.

She was going to say another word, and we both knew this, and neither of us was fooling the other in thinking the other was not utterly embarrassed and frightened over the whole situation.

“Goddesses, Watchful, you got shot, and you just saved us from being killed back there! Don't look at me like I am being crazy!"

I didn't realize I was, and so I turned to look out into the darkened room. It was quite large, and there was a set of stairs leading up. Blueberry noticed me looking at them, and scowled.

"Watchful, stop. I feel like I am just leading you around and...Your not able to...why are you doing this, Watchful?"

I looked straight into her eyes.

"Blueberry, I want to make a deal with you." I said after a few moments of thought.

She simply stared back at me.

"What is it, Watchful?"

"You know why I am with you, right? To go to Tauronto, and find a new life?" As cheesy it sounded in hindsight, it was true.

She nodded.

"Before we do anything else, we need to find a permanent place to stay. We don't have the cart any more, but we need a place where we can stay for long periods of time. Then, we can focus on the other goals."

She seemed to like that, and her face broke out into a little smile. "Okay, that's reasonable. But, something else has been on my mind, Watchful. You never told me about what happened in the aquarium."

The inquisitive look on her face filled me with dread, and at this point, I was running out of steam to lie.

"Blueberry, remember the seapony?" I said, finally.

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the side slightly. "I don't think I could forget it, Watchful."

"It's a mutant pony, but she was still intelligent. Her name is Sea Salt."

Blueberry stared at me for a few moments.

"You’re kidding, right? Let me guess, after it tried to eat me, you had a nice conversation with it and came back up later?"

I didn't know how to respond to that, and when she saw the look on my face, her jaw widened slightly.

"Oh, that isn't funny, Watchful. Stop joking. There is no way in..." she took a quick glance at my face, and groaned.

"If it makes you feel any better, she's a decent individual." I said, finger raised in protest.

"Wait a...wait a moment. Let me get this straight. That...Sea Salt killed me, my tiara-"

"Necklace." I interjected. She stared at me.

"Anyway, my necklace revived me, and between blacking out between walking outside and getting to the cart, you talked to the giant seapony thing that tried to eat me and...Then what?"

"That little bag with the green cloth? Her's from before the war. She want's it back."

She, hesitantly, turned her head to the right, where said little carrying bag was resting inside her own.

"Oh. I guess...she's going to be here soon, right?"

Surprised, I nodded. "I think so. This place is a boating dock, right?"

She rolled over to her side, head still turned to me. It was really odd how ponies could do that.

"Well, I think I saw a plaque that had 'Donk's Docks' on the door that you smashed in, and it looked like that aquarium map had a lot of far-off pipes and stuff, so it's possible that one leads here, being the main water way. Did...she ever say this place in particular?"

I thought back, and I couldn't remember a exact name. "Not really, only that it was a building near the main road by the river. Watershed was built out of a town, right? The same road and all that?"

Blueberry yawned. "No idea, Watchful, but lets hope so. I mean, I guess I should mee-"

Something skittered on the floor above us. Loudly

"-sheeeeeeeet!" Blueberry finished, voice warping in fright. I said nothing, to buy trying to find the source of our fright.

"Blueberry, it was probably just an animal. There's no need to-"

I then turned to the stairwell, as something was coming down it. Blueberry was shaking lightly on all four hooves, moving closer to my side of the fire, and I was having trouble seeing what finally landed at the end of it and was coming in our direction, ominous wet thuds coming from its movement.

Eventually, I saw what it was: a little red ball, plastic and slightly clear. A pony toy. Chuckling, I picked it up, grinning at Blueberry.

"It's a old toy, Blueberry, stop being so scared. It probably got knocked down by a animal or something."

Looking unconvinced, she looked at the stairway. "Still creepy."

I had to admit, it was, so I just nodded in agreement and gently sent the ball rolling into the darkness to our right, near a section of rotting wood and other useless things that didn't need more illumination then it did.

"You think we should go upstairs, see what it is? I mean, the floor is probably not in a good way right now, but we would just need to check if it's a radcoon or something." I offered. She didn't like the idea, but shrugged in distant approval.

"Watchful, I need to say that, without those scrap pieces, we won't have much to trade now." she said airily. "We only have that cyberpony stuff in my bag, and that's it. We won't have a decent flow of caps now."

Wincing at her mentioning of the Emerald Seas, I just nodded. "That's okay. We can go back and get them when we backtrack to Watershed."

As if to remind me of the weather, a wet breeze entered the room with gusto. Blueberry just looked at me tiredly as I processed what I just said, and how stupid it sounded.

"Never mind?" I said, smiling apotigeticly.

She waved a hoof over the fire. "No, no, it's fine Watchful, just depressing."

Putting her other hoof on her chin, she looked at me in concern. “Is your hearing better?”

I rubbed my ears. “Yeah, the noise has stopped. Why?”

She looked at me, smiling a little. “Well, one of the first things I was ever taught was that big booms hurt little pony ears. Something like that could have really hurt your hearing.”

At that, a distant, wet thumping sound started to audible from the hall to our right, one that made my hair stand on there ends and Blueberry's eyes to go wide.

The little red ball bounced all the way to our fire, and abruptly stopped in mid-arc and landed right where I stopped it before.

We both stared at it, and something skittered above us.

"Nope." said Blueberry, who was trying to put all her bags onto her back, struggling her way to the door.

"We need to see what's up there, Blueberry. We are not leaving." I said, doing my best to sound confident and not sound like I was going follow her, which was tempting.

"Watchful, I draw the line at giant seaponies and rising from the dead. Ghosts are out of my league entirely." she said, not entirely ready to leave but not entirely prepared to stay.

"Blueberry, it's not a ghost. Ghosts don't exist." I said as calmly as possible. "Ghosts are like werewolves and vampires and stuff. Now, if we were in Hellhound territory or something, that would be different."

Blueberry snorted. "Err, yeah, they do."

I looked at her in surprise and mild horror. The wasteland had a new surprise for me every day. "Wait, are you saying that you believe in stuff like that? I thought you weren't superstitious." Or willing to scare me.

She looked at the red ball, and shuddered. "I am not, Watchful, your just wrong about those werewolves, I think. There's this place called the...I think it's Egolight, or something, Egolight Valley, but anyway, there’s place in central Equestria well, I thinks it's in Equestria, but anyway there's a place that has a sort of magical plague that turns you into a big hairier version of yourself that have the ability to regenerate stuff. They call them Ijira...arats." She paused, and rubbed the back of her head with a hoof." Yeah, Ijiraats. That's what they call them up here, or at least some tribes do. Vamponies aren’t real, though."

That was an odd piece of news.

"Vampire, I think. I doub't they would all be ponies." I said, pointlessly nitpicking her word choice to lighten things up.

She looked at me, aghast but bearing a lighter face. "Oh, sorry mister politically correct, I wasn’t aware there was vampdonkeys and vampdragons around. Now, before we devolve into debating the existence of magical creatures when there is a seapony swimming around that you are bosom buddies with, can we please go upstairs before I think of something safer!"

I shrugged, and let her scramble up first, lighting the way up the winding stairs, abandoning our stuff near the low fire.

"Whoa."

"All this for boats?"

"Yeah. Lot of boats, probably."

The room we reached was directly down a long, moldering hall that cut through a lot of the building, and it was huge. Two great sets of rusting latches were set on the side of a water-filled chamber, each loaded with buoyant boats, some in better conditions that others. Besides that, however, was the cargo, which was everywhere. We were on what seemed to be the fourth level of a six floor operation, with mechanical pulleys and wooden crates strewn all over.

In essence, our focus was torn from finding out a mystery animal-cum-ghost to cracking open stuff to take it. Was it really stealing if no one cared if you took it?

"Oh my gosh, Watchful, look at this stuff! Those boats are still in working condition! Do you know how much...oh my gosh, is that a..." Blueberry wordlessly shrieked with joy as she started to run down the metal railing to get down to a cluster of iron-grey crates and started to pry them open with a crowbar. I, however, was less enthusiastic.

"Blueberry, this place smells rotten, and it's made of rusted metal and rotten wood. We really shouldn't sta-"

"Eeeeeeeeeee, it's full of bullets!" she said, doing a little dance as she all but dived into the pile of metal shells.

"Blueberry, there's probably a reason why this place hasn't been-"

"Oh, there are gods! They are all incinerating rounds, and they are all dry and clean! Clean! They are all the size of my horn! No, Bigger!"

"Blueberry, stop."

"This crate is filled with 10 millimeter incinerating rounds! Oh my goodness, you could bring down the Everfree with this and a-oh gosh, is that crate labeled Crystalline Industries? Oooh!" she said, ignoring me.

Sighing, seeing as I could not get the steel rangers attention away from her discoveries, I decided to snoop around for the animal, or even pony. While it was clear there was some fish in the waters below, I could only find the rare nest or radroach, nothing really impressive.

Eventually, after a few minutes, I decided to sit down near what seemed to be an overseers chair on the other side of the room, overlooking the entire flooded first floor behind a thin layer of filthy clear plastic The lighting above, barely flickering after what was probably two hundred years of constant work, was enough, however, for me to notice a folder of papers to my side, shoved between a moldering book and a paperweight. After a few moments of looking at it, I sighed and picked it up. The title of it was boring enough; "Quartermaster's Personal Records”. I flipped it open and began to read, only to find that most of the records themselves were scratched out with blue pen, leaving only a few lines visible.

Day 451: Make a note for the guys at Hippocampus that we can't continue to give them the same price we do for the rest of the year, with that pink pony breathing down out neck.

Day 452: Somepony squealed. Ponies from Tauronto came down and demanded that we put as much taxes on Equestrian goods as we do on Caldonian one's, and we nearly exposed the operation. Celestia damn whoever did it.

Day 455: Fired three workers for taking too long with the haul from Zebrica.

Day 459: After a week of investigation, we got away mostly free. The pony who own's the place is different, but otherwise business is booming. The guy has a idea what's really keeping this dump afloat, he's even distributed for us before. Viva La Prance and all that.

Day 468: Profits are through the roof with the new kid in charge. Rumor has it the kid was involved in the first sales of the stuff, and knows the Moral Mare herself. Well, arn't we lucky. Even better, everyone is keeping quiet, because he just gave every one of the fifty-six workers a thousand bit bonus. Whats better, I got three times that amount, and it's not a fraction of what we are really pulling in.

Day 469: Lucky day. A bunch of contracts just pulled through. We are now the proud shippers and handlers of most of the major electronics and industrial companies that I know of, including a few I don't know. Sweet Celestia, I love this country.

Day 520: Something weird is going on. Now, I know somethings up when the guy in charge of the largest Moondust smuggling operation in the north is keeping hush-hush on our newest clients. First off, he is hoofpicking some muscle to do the unloading. At night, at that. Going to go down tonight and see what's going on.

To my displeasure, there was a single entry left on final page that wasn't entirely obliterated with black mold.

Day 526: Well, as it turns out, I have been helping a race-traitor in distributing zebra tech. Crates full of long knives, odd guns, the works. What's worse is that I was offered to help with it by the boss himself. He's been overseeing the whole thing for a while now, and he's clearly in it for the sake of it, not the money. Guess that what we get when somepony had the bright idea to let a stallion named Turncoat get rich. I mean, really? What do these Equestrians think about when they name there children!

Somewhat amusing, in a bleak sort of way, but irrelevant to my currant situation. Mostly.

I looked out from that chair, down into the massive chamber that was once filled with dozens of ponies, trying to think about how it once looked before the decay set in, and almost didn't notice Blueberry waving at me from below, sporting a worried look on her face, standing far away from the crates she fawned over and far closer to the set of offices we passed by. Standing up, I quickly made my way down to the second floor, and followed her when she went into one of the side rooms that seemed mostly filled with junk and other useless stuff.

However, I did notice her worried, almost fearful expression when she pointed to one of the shelves off to the side of one of the larger ones. Looking at it, I could see why.

First off, a bucket nearby served almost as a stepladder of sorts, and the reason I note this was that somepony was living there recently. That was easily seen from the worn woolen blanket strewn over most of the shelf, which was nearly as tall as a pony. Of more immediate concern, however, was the little teddy bear next to a dirty, ragged pillow, and what seemed like a stack of comics. There was also a little red ball as well, joined by others of several colors in a little plastic bucket.

I pried my eyes off the slightly morbid sight to see something even more unwelcome, a pair of dead ponies. Recent one's, at that, but not recent enough. But that wasn't the worst thing.

The worst thing, of course, was the little oval shape under the blanket itself, still and oddly shaped.

Blueberry broke out into dry heaves when she got both into her sight at the same time, and I nearly ran out to the guardrails and puked myself. This was sick.

"Theresnosuchthingasghoststheresnosuchthingasghoststheresnosuchthingasghosts...." I repeated to myself slowly at I looked on at the horrible sight and moved backwards slightly, closer to the large doorway to get a grip on the safety rail, repeating the little mantra in my head until it sounded like I believed it myself.

However, I stopped when Blueberry perked her head up and, mouth trembling, moved further and further back further down the hall, eyes wide open and body quivering slightly.

"Wahawat-chawha Watchful, d-don't move, what e-ever you do, don't..." she half-gibbered, staring fearfully at me as she pointed a hoof to my right.

I almost turned around. But I didn't need to. The reason for Blueberry's fright made itself apparent as it trotted in front of me and looked upward with a puzzled look.

"Hey, my name is Candy Cane, what's your name?" said the little tan filly with red-green striped hair as it cheerfully bounced in place in front me, awaiting a response.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I said, accordingly.

Author's Note

Well, this is related. As is this. But mostly this

Et Tu, Nocte Praesidio?

After taking about fifteen seconds to realize the overenthusiastic filly was not a ghost and was, in fact, a solid creature made of bone and blood, I stopped screaming and did my best to calm both her and Blueberry down, with the former being expressively interested in what I was, what I was doing, what was my favorite color, and so on, while the other was screaming incoherently.

Quickly making sure that the ponies on the ground were, in fact, not her parents, or any pony she knew for that matter, and working out that the lump was just a old teddy bear ( and getting over the fact that the filly was living in a abandoned shipping plant in the same room as two corpses, alone, a few miles from what was formerly a bustling town), I told her my name, what I was, and why the blue pony at the corner of the room was trying to find a another non-existent exit to the room while screaming for mercy to whatever local deity would listen.

The little pony, Candy Cane, was thankfully naive, and believed me when I said that the blue pony didn't like candy, which made the little pony upset, but it quickly recovered when I asked if she was afraid of me at all. Which sparked a long conversation about how she wasn't.

Apparently, I was 'cool looking', which was a new one as far as I was concerned.

Blueberry was slightly more approving of the little pony’s presence when she trotted up to her and said she was pretty, which might have been the first complement she's heard all week. She finally came over to the other side of the room when the little filly offered her what looked like a hanky, a gesture that even I could see was utterly adorable.

Soon, everyone was calmed down, happy, and almost okay with the fact the roof was slightly leaky and the room was cold and smelled lightly like spoiled meats and mildew and less mentionable things. According to the little filly, she couldn't find a home in Watershed for whatever reason, and found her way in here by swimming in the river until she got into the shipping chambers. Which only raised more questions, mostly regarding what happened to her parents, but I was too afraid to ask and Blueberry was too busy cleaning her face up.

Of course, the little filly was wondering why there was a "big brahman thing” and a unicorn in her "room", and she really didn't get it when I told her that we were scavenging. She also didn't know that there was fighting going on a brisk walk away, which was somewhat surprising.

To me and Blueberry's collective surprise, the little filly had no idea we were here and had no idea what we were talking about when we mentioned the red ball, but she did have an imaginary friend called "Miss Batsy" who rarely came and played with her at night, who Blueberry brushed off as a cute little foalish thing and I found profoundly unordinary for a child to have. However, in order to change the subject to something less uncomfortable, I asked her how she got her food, as I did not see any fish around. She then showed us a crate full of what seemed to be dried green-brown cubes, which she eagerly showed adsorbed water to transform into spongy, tasteless, but apparently filling blobs filled with proteins and vitamins. How a little filly that was too young to get there butt-mark knew what a vitamin was left unsaid.

Candy Cane was decent company for what seemed to be a pony who was young enough to have most of her baby teeth, if just a bit ignorant about the world outside. So, when I asked if she wanted to sleep near a fire, she said okay without a second thought, which surprised me a little. And so, the three of us went down to the fire to keep warm and hopefully go to sleep.

However, the little pony did not realize it was either late at night or very early in the morning, and continued to talk. Loudly. And in a little high-pitched voice that hurt my ears.

"-and that's why I like Daring Doo, sir!" Candy Cane said eagerly, chewing on a food bar much like how she talked.

Loudly.

Blueberry groaned, slightly annoyed, and continued to pretend to be asleep near the other side of the room.

I couldn't blame her. We were planning to leave as soon as the little filly fell asleep, but that was not going to be an option at the rate she was bouncing around. I could only hope the little fillies "candy" was just that, and not some colorful pills and such.

"Hey mister minotaur, is your friend okay?" Candy Cane said, pointing to the groaning blue pony at the far side of the room. "She doesn't seem to be sleeping well. Is she alright? Does she need a hug?"

I stared at the light brown earth pony child, eyes half-lidded and limbs heavy. I wondered, only for a moment, how far it would go if I threw it outside, but I quickly deemed that a horrible idea, considering that my wrists hurt and my back hurt slightly from having a roof fall on it.

"She's she just needs to sleep. And my name is Ever Watchful, little one."

"Okay, mister minotaur!" the little pony said, not comprehending my words whatsoever.

"I am tired too, little pony. Big people like me and Blueberry need to sleep. Please, talk softer." I said, calmly and with little in the way of emotion.

"Okay!" she said cheerfully.

I said nothing, and laid on my back. The little pony stared at me for a few moments, then prodded me in the shins, which was still sore.

"Mister minotaur?"

"Shut up." I grumbled, only realizing what I actually said when I heard the words come out of my mouth. Candy Cane flinched, and scooted away from me, and the fire for that matter. I didn't see her face, but she sounded like she was starting to sniffle.

"Okay..." she said softly, and she looked at the staircase.

I leaned up from my spot on the floor, and I tried to sound apologetic. "I didn't mean that, it's okay for you to talk, really, just be softer."

The little filly looked at me, eyes watering, and began to wander ever so slightly to the staircase.

"No, its okay, I think I am going to bed mister minotaur, its late." she said, words carrying an undertone of disappointment.

I didn't know what to say, and I watched at the little filly climbed up the staircase.

It took a few minutes, but Blueberry all but bounded to me and prodded my ribs.

"Watchful, what the hell was that? She's a foal, and you just told her to shut up!" she said lowly, continuing to put pressure on my sore sides.

"Blueberry, I didn't mean to say that, and stop doing that!" I said, lightly pushing her hoof away with a hand. After stepping back a bit, she continued to sound argumentive.

"You can't say things like that to...she doesn't even have parents." she said gruffly. "She's a foal, who lives alone and doesn't get out much. We are probably the first things she's seen in weeks, and you just told her to shut up like you have any right to!"

I said nothing for a while, but eventually nodded. "I didn't mean too, Blueberry, but this is a odd situation. It's not like you expected the little pony to follow us down stairs. And you were the one who pretended to go asleep."

She stopped glaring at me, and after a few moments rolled her eyes and lowered her shoulders. "Oh, okay, fine, you have me there. But still, Watchful, she wanted to talk to you. She likes you, and you...she's really, really young, too young, and now she's probably crying right now!"

I sighed, upset at both myself and at Blueberry, and shrugged. "What am I supposed to do? It's not like you were planning to take her along with us!"

She blinked at me, and bit her upper lip.

"Your kidding, Blueberry. We can't. We can't" I said, dumbfounded.

"She's a foal, and she is sleeping on a shelf in the same room with two dead bodies, Watchful!" she said, pleadingly. "We can't just leave her here!"

I rubbed the back of my head with a free hand, and kneaded the spot where my horn buds connected with my skull. "Blueberry, we can't take Candy Cane. Yes, she's alone here, but she's fine right now. I mean, she has food and stuff, right?"

Blueberry pouted. "But what if somepony comes in here and finds her? She's...not really wasteland survivor material, Watchful. Most ponies would have at least attempted to steal our stuff, but she's just a little filly, and with Watershed all but destroyed, there's going to be scavengers, and the moment this place is noticed, she's going to be the only thing between them and the stuff in here."

I felt mildly ashamed, being the one saying that we shouldn't take in the orphan foal, but I still shaked my head. "Blueberry, what would we do if she did follow us? We can't take care of her, we have enough issues as it is, and-"

"And what, Watchful? What the hell is wrong with you lately? I thought you would be the one who would suggest it first!" she barked.

I leaned my head back and threw my hands in the air in a defensive motion, which Blueberry did not find funny in the least. After a few moments of thought, I realized something that could work.

"Okay, Blueberry, how about this. Tomorrow, you ask her if she wants’ to come with you, but we are going to drop her off at the nearest place that would take in foals that doesn't look like a complete hellhole, okay?"

Putting a hoof under her chin, she slowly nodded in agreement, if hesitantly. "That's okay. Actually, I am sure she could find a home in the Watchers. She's independent enough."

I grunted in response, and stood up slowly. "I am going to take a walk around; you go ahead and go asleep."

She raised an eyebrow, but yawned. "Okay, whatever. Don't talk to Candy again, no offence, and don't go and get hurt."

"Don't worry, Blueberry, I am tired too, I just need to get some blood flowing. And there's always the chance Sea Salt is around."

Blueberry stopped walking away, looked at me, and without warning started to walk just a little faster away from me, making sounds that could have been laughter if it wasn't so sour and bitter. Face flushed, I just watched as she trotted over to the area with the least amount of working overhead lighting and plopped down on what seemed to be the soggy remains of a desk, curling up under some rag-like joke of a blanket and facing away from the fire and, by extent, me.

Now, feeling guilty, I took to the stairs, leaving the fire and a understandably upset Blueberry behind me.

It took a while, but I found something else to catch my interest in the shipping area. I could tell that Candy Cane was asleep without even entering the room she was sleeping in, going by the soft sounds of her snoring, and my continued search for a animal of some sort came up in failure, so I decided to make my way to the second-lowest floor to search the rooms Blueberry and I missed on our first run-through of the place.

It was only then did I realize just how eerie the place was, with its dirty, eternally flickering lights powered by some source or another to the distinct lack of corpses to the constant trickle of water from the rain outside to the subtle splashing of the water below.

I also noticed, for the first time in quite some time, that I was probably not what ponies two hundred years ago had in mind when they built there buildings. This would not have been such a big issue if I could walk on one side of the railing without scraping my horns on the other, which I could not.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." I muttered to myself. What was getting into me? First I make a foal cry, and then I all but did my best to get Blueberry to hate me over the course of a day. This walk was a stupid idea, and I had a better chance of slipping on something and falling to my death in the slimy water below than finding anything worth taking, and every minute that Sea Salt didn't show up was another minute that my faith in her arriving lessened.

Finally, after a few minutes of careful guardrail-hopping and ladder-climbing, I planted my two hooves on the second floor. Mostly devoid of crates and far more exposed to the river than the one's before, I took note at how the support beams and wooden planks were far more decayed than the ones above, if only slightly. The lighting was off, as well, thanks to most of the bulbs above either covered with filth or out entirely, making the entire floor darker than the one's above.

Taking careful steps, I went inside the first room I saw, an office, apparently, going by the remnants of a name on the glass on the door,

Stepping inside, I knew something was off, as the lighting went off as I walked inside, throwing the entire room into weird shadows.

This was compounded when a red ball dropped down, seemingly from the ceiling, and slowly bounced towards me.

I stared at it, and I was so into staring at the object that had no right to be where it was that I almost didn't notice that something large was shifting on the ceiling.

I then realized I made a mistake in doing so, for as I did, something black and leathery launched itself off its perch and knocked me on the ground. In the dark, I could not see what was now pinning me to the wet floor, but it four limbs, all of them hoofed and shod with some purple boots, the front pair ending in two points that drew blood when they scraped my chest.

My attacker’s face, if it had one, was hidden by the shadows, but I could clearly see that it had yellow eyes. And dark wings, given the dark and rough objects that fluttered as it somehow found the power to hold down my arms at the elbow.

I was also certain it had teeth, sharp one's at that, considering that the last thing I saw that night was a cruel sharped-toothed grin and a purple hoof-claw slamming into my head.

And You Probably Thought She Was Important

I woke up when something kicked me in my ribs.

"Watchful, get your sorry butt up off the ground." my abuser growled.

Well, somepony anyway.

Groaning slightly, I used the desk an arms length away to support myself as I got up, I took a few moments to notice that I felt terrible. My limbs were achy and it felt like I had a gallon of slimy floor-water stuck on my back, and the cuts on my chest were painful and itchy. The back of my head felt like it was about to split, and the base of my horns were dully throbbing. My legs were bruised a bit as well, and to complete the package of pain it felt like my stomach was trying to eat itself.

"Blueberry, please." I half-whined,

She looked like she was either going to continue kicking me or break down and tantrum. She looked even worse than yesterday, hair matted into greasy purple strands all over her face and shoulders, and her eyes were wild and all but bloodshot. I was almost expecting to see Self Defense hovering nearby.

"Watchful, I...I don't want to talk to you right now, do you understand me?" she spat. "Do you understand what it was like to wake up and you be missing? Gone! Vanished!"

I remembered the event that caused me to get where I was, but I barely believed it myself and I doubted she would have appreciated me saying anything related to me being ambushed by some creature of the night.

"I understand, Blu-"

She cut me off with a vicious noise from the back of her throat. "Oh, no you don't! How could you...how dare you! How dare you! You have no right to say that, Ever Watchful!"

I felt her jamming a hoof into my right knee, but I was too numb by her outburst to really appreciate the extra effort she made into trying to provoke a physical response from me.

"Why not, Blueberry?"

"Because you don't have to live with the fact that, every day, there's a chance that you wake up and have no idea what got you there or why! You don't have to live with the fact that your a years travel away from the only family you have left and that your only friend probably hates you and is keeping the only thing you really own away from you! Your not the one who wakes up every morning and makes sure that, when you wake up, you know who the other creature in the room is!" she shrieked at me, voice all edges and cracks.

I had little choice in stepping back, as Blueberry's horn was sparking, and I didn't want to get anywhere near it. Looking at my fearful, somewhat pained look, she started to laugh a little false laugh in between deep breaths.

"And if it makes you feel any better, Candy Cane refused to come with us." she said almost smiling at me, which somehow only made it worse. "Mostly because of your giant fish pony friend."

I reared up fully, blood rushing to my head, and after fumbling around a bit I took my first steps forward that day.

"What? She's here?" I said, only somewhat surprised.

Blueberry looked at me for a few moments, face contorted into the exact opposite of a smile. "Oh, yes she is. Don't worry, we talked. She apologized. I didn't gut her, if you are so concerned with her safety. Candy Cane is still alive. Everyone is going to fine, of course, because your going to talk to it and then we can all just fucking skip to Tauronto to see the Reavers and the Pure and the cult and everything else and be just fucking happy the entire time because it's not like my feelings are important at all."

It took a few seconds for me to catch the bitterness in her voice, and I frowned. "Blueberry, stop that. That is not true at all."

She bucked the ground with her back legs, causing the wood to creak.

"Oh, shut up, Watchful! You are more interested in that fish thing down there than about what we are going to do when we get out of there, and do I have to remind you that that thing ate me! I can feel my head ache when I look at it! It's unnatural, Watchful! Do you think I am just going to be okay with you being all cozy with a cannibal?"

I took a deep, calming breath in an attempt to clear my head, and gave my most neutral look at Blueberry, smiling just a little bit but not to overtly. "Blueberry, please, we can talk this out, there is no need to be upset, we-"

She turned around, huffing, and was halfway out the door before looking at me spitefully. "Go ahead, talk to your fishy friend, I don't care, I will be waiting downstairs."

I didn't do anything besides stand there wordlessly as Blueberry stormed out of the room and found her way to the entrance to the rest of the building. After a few moments, I slumped on the desk, unable to stand.

This had to be the rudest awakening I have ever had, and the last one I had involved the building I was sleeping in exploding. And yet, I knew that the only way that it could possibly improve was one of the reasons that I was just called out. Blueberry had every right to be upset, if not a little angry, and I could not blame her.

Well, mostly, anyway.

After stepping out of the room, it actually took me a moment to find the twelve foot long pony fish mutant, mostly due to her being almost entirely out of the water and on the unloading area, which was raised up to the point that a measly half-inch of water covered it. Considering that she was actually propping her elbows on a half-sunken ship and did not seem to notice Blueberry's little spat, I believed she was sleeping.

As I climbed down, I noticed a few things I didn't catch when I was in the Seahorse regarding what Sea Salt looked like, thanks to the room actually being big enough for me to get a horizontal view of her. Foremost, her black-grey serpentine hindquarters actually seemed to replace the general area of pony’s legs, and in fact she resembled a hugely oversized pony from the rump up. I also noticed that she had long light blue-green hair that was mostly matted down her neck, which somewhat explained why I did not notice its color before.

.It also seemed that, for whatever reason, the only place she had actual scales was on her upper torso, with the rest of body either furred or completely hairless and rubbery looking. Her ears, to my slight amusement, were flattened and were almost hidden in her hair, but resembled little ridged fins. I was also surprised at what I didn't see, with no fins or gill slits in sight, and if she had a cutie mark, I couldn't see it.

Eventually, after a few moments of pony-watching, I got to the first floor, which was just a few feet in height above that of the loading area, and brought my left hand to my mouth and whistled.

A flurry of movement and splashing signaled that she was awake, and after a great lazy yawn, she looked at me with something between appreciation and mild annoyance.

"Oh, hi there, Ever Watchful." she said sleepily, making the ship creak slightly and she used it as support to turn around to face me on the other side of the room. "Blueberry and I had a talk, did she tell you?"

I could hear a bit of nervousness in her voice, which was understandable considering that it had yet to be three days since she nearly ate her. "Yeah, she did." I said tiredly myself, "how was she, anyway?"

She winced lightly, and she started to scratch lightly at the ship she was resting on, which caused the air to be filled with the sound of creaking metal. "Well..." she said, drawing out her breath, "she seemed distant, which I guess I can't blame her, really."

For a few moments, the room was utterly silent, and I could only wonder what happened to the little filly that made this place her home.

"I think I scared the little filly who was here when I arrived, considering, um..."

I looked at her face. It was the face of some pony that wanted to change the subject.

"You didn't try to hurt her, did you?" I said, somewhat anxiously.

She shook her head slower than I would have wanted her too.

"Well, no, but, well, I kind of arrived her when she was playing with Blueberry, and I waved at Blueberry, but I guess I shouldn't have smiled." she said, big saucer-eyes glazed over with something. "I guess a mouthful of 'dagger teeth', as Blueberry called them, is not the best sort to make a friendly grin."

She sounded distant, almost disengaged from reality, which made me want to change the subject before we started going down darker roads.

"Sea Salt, how did you get here, anyway?"

She looked somewhat surprised, and the light frown she sported upturned. "Well, that water drain led to the river, and I knew this place because it was the place the fish food for the aquarium arrived in.”

I thought for a moment. "Do they grow in water? In size, I mean."

Her cheerful look began to look earnest. "Yeah, they did. There green, and there kind of like vegetarian food balls or something. I never did get what they were, exactly, but the fish used to eat them. Why, are some here?"

I felt even worse about Candy Cane, knowing that she was surviving on things that were supposed to feed fish, but I did not even want to try to bring that up.

"I saw a few in here, yeah. There are barrels full of them."

She nodded, but after a few moments paused spoke in a lower voice than before, almost conspiracal in tone.

"So, is it always this bad looking and cold outside, or is it winter or something?"

"It's late fall, but the temperature doesn't really change except in early spring and early winter. However, this place is actually pretty decent looking as far as places in the wasteland go."

She winced at that, and pointed a claw to the ceiling. "Well, yeash, and I thought this place was bad when it wasn't entirely wreaked."

I stood there for a moment, mind reaching out for things to say. Finally, I settled on something that was important enough to bring up.

"I have to ask, Sea Salt, are you, well, okay with yourself?"

She leaned back away from me, and her tail began to move back and forth almost threateningly. "Well, yeah. I mean, I feel fine, really. I have done some thinking since I have gotten here, though."

She paused for a moment, and she suddenly shifted a bit to the right, bringing up her tail and, by extension, most of her body out of the water.

"I mean, look at my tail. It's a fish tail, but most of my body is still mammal in nature, but I have these scales," she poked her torso for emphasis, "and I have hands! Not hooves, not fins, but hands. And I think I can feel my legs too, or at least the muscles that would have been my legs along with the rest of the one's in my tail, like they just fused together."

For a moment, she looked at me like all of these were startling realizations. Finally, somewhat sullenly, she continued.

"And I can breathe underwater, but I don't have any gills or anything like them. And I can actually feel my front teeth when I close my mouth. It's really weird; I have no idea what I am, biology-wise."

She paused for a moment, and swished her tail around a bit." There's parts of me that resemble something like a whale, other parts that seem to be fish in nature, other parts that seem to be unchanged, while there are some that I have no idea about." she finished, holding up a claw to show what she was talking about.

I thought for a few moments, and smiled to myself when I figured out a reasonable response.

"Well, if anything, some ponies have called me part bull or part goat. But, really, I am a minotaur, in the end. I guess you are whatever you want to be."

Her eyes widened, and her mouth started quivering.

"Tha..thank you. Thank you very much." she said, shaky and hopeful.

I nodded, feeling my neck creak slightly. "No, it's nothing. Please, if you have any questions at all, please tell me."

The moderately tender moment was interrupted by a deep rumbling sound.

I quickly realized it was coming from Sea Salt's stomach.

"Err...do minotaur’s always eat meat?" she said, mild embarrassment replacing hope in her voice.

I shook my head. "Not always, but I don't like the preserved foodstuffs that you can find in cans now and then. There's not much plant matter in the wasteland that one could eat."

She looked at me, almost painfully, and I realized the real meaning behind her question. I scanned the room for anything that looked decently meaty-ish, and quickly realized that finding meat in a pre-war building was out.

"Can we agree that eating ponies is not a option, now?" I said, trying to keep to the subject while thinking about how to solve the issue at hand.

"Well..." she hummed, "what about not killing ponies?"

I gave her an unamused look. She looked unfazed.

"Hey, it's not cannibalism if it's not the same species." she said, looking around the room herself.

Groaning, I was wondering what exactly I had gotten into.

"Why...oh come on, I know you used to be a pony, you have to remember that." I said, arms outstretched in protest.

"I didn't even like other ponies back then, you know. Where I come from, there were not even that many, and even then that doesn't mean all the ones here were not jerks. Besides, I was never a...I mean, look at this place!" she waved a hand in the general area of the first floor," This and the town are some of the most terrible places I have ever seen." she said with a little edge to her voice.

"You passed by the town?" I said.

She blinked slowly. "Well, yeah. It's hard to miss, being all trashed up and stuff. Really, there were burnt buildings and broken things and corpses everywhere. It looked like something out of a..."

At that, she seemed to have a sudden realization, and gave me a slightly hopeful look.

"Please tell me you’re not expecting me to..." I said, feeling somewhat defeated.

She nodded quickly. I groaned again.

"Just this once. After this, you are going to have to feed yourself." I said sternly.

She, infuriatingly, nodded, and turned her head slightly to the boat entrance. "The river connects with the bay, and I would hope that there's some fish there. But just in case, is there anything out there that I can eat that’s not supposed to send me into a guilt trip?"

"Well, there's brahman."

She stared at me uncomprehendingly.

Oh, wait, two-hundred years old.

"Brahman are cattle, but they have two heads." I said.

"Well, that would work. But why do they have two heads? Do they talk?" she said, tilting her huge head to the side.

"That’s just how they are. The radiation mutated them. And no, not usually."

"Oh."

I knew she wanted to ask how and why, and if it had anything to do with her own mutations, but she said nothing at all.

"So, this is where I go and wait for you outside, right?" she said finally.

"Yeah, it is." I responded. "You said something about a bay, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it's in Tauronto, Well, beside it, anyway. It's in lake Trotario, and I remember it being really nice most of the year."

I shook my head. "If we are going to see each other again, as some sort of meeting point, preferably close. We are heading down the road, not by river, so we won't be able to contact each other for a while. I mean, last time, you didn't tell me that it was this place, specifically."

She frowned as she heard that, and scratched at the slimy film covering the dock lightly. "Well, last time I was there, there was a place called Sugar Beach. Hopefully, it's still there. It's not far away from the river, anyway."

I nodded my head, and looked past Sea Salt and at the boat entrance. "I do need to go, Sea Salt. Meet my by the bridge, I am going to tell Blueberry we are disposing of the dead ponies, and you can...eat, alright?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Alright. I think I am going to spend a few more minutes in here, though, it feels nice. Not as cold as the water." Her ears perked up. "The river doesn't freeze, right?"

"I don't know, but I don't think it would, anyway." I said half-heartedly, feeling bad that I knew almost nothing about the place I was in.

"Well, that's okay, Anyway, I don't think I have to worry about it getting too cold." she said wistfully. "Even after two hundred years," she poked at her side with a claw, "the damage from years of binging on sugary Equestrian food is still there. My goodness, I must be alive from all the preservatives in those cakes." she said, laughing lightly.

I could only help but laugh a little too, but I knew I needed to leave before Blueberry tried to kill me.

"I'm going, see you soon." I said, waving as I stepped off of the pier and onto more solid ground. "At the bridge, alright?"

She nodded, still smiling, and kept watching me even as I left the room, and I knew that because she would have made a noise if she moved at all.

Finally, after I managed to get to the hallway, somehow unsoiled disregarding two hundred years since it was last used, I sat down against the wall, breathing heavily and trying to get the image of her trying to eat me out of my mind.

Blueberry was waiting downstairs, and by that I mean she was sitting dejectedly in front of the smoldering fireplace, staring at nothing at all. Seeing that she did not turn to face me, as noisy as the creak of the staircase was, I quietly took my way down the stairs and, going by the fact she did not acknowledge my presence, and I felt a little worried when she did nothing at all when I walked over to the fire.

"Blueberry, wake up." I said an arms-distance away from her, "we can go now."

Her eyes were open, but they didn't seem to focus on anything. Her mouth was open slightly, and in general she looked like she was in a daze.

And so, I pushed her shoulder lightly. This caused her to fall down.

"Oomph."

Well, at least it woke her up.

"Come on, Blueberry, time to go." I said, a little bit of fear entering my voice.

"Whaaaat?" she said slowly, "what’s...what time is it?"

"It's still morning, Blueberry. Come on, let's go." I said, happy to see that, at the very least, she was talking and moving.

Moving carefully to her hooves, she groggily looked at the fire, and then at our collective pile of stuff.

"Sorry that I yelled at you earlier. I worked myself up." she said in a disengaged tone. "How did you get like that, anyway?"

I looked at the scratch marks on my chest, and thought about what happened last night.

"I think an animal attacked me." I said. I knew it was not an animal, as it was clearly a pony, but she didn't need to know that.

"Ah." she said quietly.

I looked at her as she slowly packed her bags with what little she gained from the unloading area, which seemingly consisted of a few dozen of those incinerating rounds and nothing else. I gathered my things, and remembered something that might cheer her up, and hopefully get her out of her slump.

"Hey, Blueberry, if you want, you could talk to Candy Cane again. We could take her with us, if you really want her too."

She stared at me uncomprehendingly.

"Watchful, who's Candy Cane?"

I stared at Blueberry for a few moments.

"Watchful, answer me!"

I think my hand's were shaking slightly as I turned to the door we entered in and walked over to it.

"Watchful, who is Candy Cane!" Blueberry yelled.

I almost turned around, but by the time she broke into yelling I had opened the door.

In essence, I was too busy being shocked at what I was looking at, and eventually Blueberry stomped over and promptly lost her attitude when she saw what I was looking at. She might have swore.

Apparently,going by the unsettlingly large groups of ponies shooting at each other, there was a war going on outside.

If You Thought This Story Would Have A Happy Ending, You Haven't Been Paying Attention.

Watershed was far enough away for the two of us to not make out what or who were fighting each other, but I did make out a few large shapes moving in the sky and what ponies I did notice seemed, to my mild horror, to be wearing power armor.No matter who or what was fighting, there was at least forty or so total armed individuals, not counting the one's in the sky I couldn't make out, and it made me slightly ashamed that I didn't hear the distant sounds of carnage.

"I didn't think Talon's worked up this far north." Blueberry said mildly as she looked up to get a better view of the former town turned battlefield. "But those ponies in power armor couldn't be Steel Rangers, cause-"

"They got forced out of Tauronto years ago." I finished, causing her to give me a puzzled look.

"I heard it on the radio." I said simply.

Moving her head back in forth, as if I said something crazy, Blueberry walked down the steep staircase outside and turned to me.

"Come on, let's go."

Blinking once, I glanced at the minor war happening a hundred or so feet away from us and then back at her.

"Are you insane?" I said. "You want to go to the town we barely survived last night to go fight for..." I tried to think of what she could possibly gain from joining the carnage before us, and failed, "no reason at all! There's even airborne fighters! I don't want to die!"

Blueberry sighed exaggeratedly. "We have to get to the bridge to leave anyway, right? If one of the groups over there want are help, and they probably will when they look at you-"

I gave a little huff at what she was implying, and she gave me a shameless grin before turning around to get a better glance at the battlefield.

"Anyway, if we need to get on someponies good side, and this might be like, our only chance before we hit Tauronto. There's only one or two settlements before we arrive there, anyway. Actually..."

She motioned to me, and pointed to her left near a fallen building relatively close to us.

"You see that pony standing over there?"

I had to squint to make out the shape she was motioning towards, but I did, eventually. He, and it was probably a he, going by his general posture, was a small pony wearing something black and loose, and he was standing on a small hill between the town and us, seemingly overseeing the fighting at a good length away.

"Yeah. I guess you want to talk to him?" I said, less than sure of her logic.

Blueberry trotted a few feet away from the dock building. “I mean, if you don't want to risk getting shot at, you can stay here."

I wasn't sure what her voice was laced with, but I didn't like it. "Blueberry, do you know why I was attacked in Watershed last night?"

She quickly turned to me at that, and after brushing her hair out of her face looked at me with a thin smile. "It was the guards, right?"

I said nothing, and just gave her an unappreciative look. I didn't remember telling her that.

"Okay, well, that's one mystery solved, even if it's a old one! Come on; let's see what's going on!"

I was going to protest and make her elaborate about the fiend that attacked me, but I realized that it would have been pointless, as she was already trotting towards the hill, bags in tow.

Snorting in disbelief at her utter arrogance, I never less played the part of a nice bull and followed her, if grudgingly.

Luckily for us, or me, anyway, there were no bullets shot our way or ponies trying to kill us, and we crossed the area between us and the hill easily. The pony on the hill was quite visibly surprised as he saw us coming, but rather than greet us or say anything he continued to watch the carnage going on below. I was having a rougher time climbing up then Blueberry was, as the ground was still wet and the hill, while small, was steep, so I took my time. As such, Blueberry took the lead in introducing ourselves.

"Why hello there!" Blueberry said to the stallion after she stopped huffing her way up the hill, sounding rather cheerful considering the circumstances.

The pony turned to us, and Blueberry let out a yelp of surprise. He, or perhaps she going by the snout, was a ghoul. A rather nasty looking one at that, with little on the flesh department, its nose completely missing and one eye socket only filled by a dim yellow light. What little hair was left was grey-green, and her skin was leathery and black.

"Ah, hello friends." the ghoul wheezed, voice creaky and resembling a dry breeze but was unmistakably feminine. "I see that I am not the only on who wishes to have a good view of this place. Please, I insist."

Blueberry was visibly shaken, but didn't move away from the ghoul. "Thank you, mam. And your name is...?"

"Bright Day." the ghouless (?) breathed. " My name is Bright Day. I once fit it, I assure you. Used to be a model."

I moved closer to the top of the hill, if only to hear the creature better. "My name is Ever Watchful, and my companion is Blueberry Cream. If I may ask, do you know what has happened in Watershed?"

The ghoul looked startled as best as it could with its fleshless lips. "W-well, Ever...Watchful, was it? Well, as it turns out, that town down there seems to have attracted bandits. I am just waiting for there little rampage to end."

Blueberry looked somewhere between unconvinced and annoyed. "Bandits? Sorry, but what kind of bandits have power armor?"

The ghoul probably tried to roll its good eye, and if it wasn't a glazed over shrunken ball of leather, it would probably have been an impressively sarcastic gesture. "Purebreds, kiddo, and there lackeys. Bunch of Steel Rangers work for them now that those idiots got blasted to nothing by the good sirs in the Reavers."

Blueberry's ambiguous look of distant annoyance gave out to a flash of pure hatred towards the unwitting ghoul. "They did what?"

"Oh, yeah, it was good times. Mr. Ed himself gave the order to string up a bunch of the bastards off the roof of the Caledonian Tower with a rope around there necks, and the few that were left joined up with the Pure because they were going to end up dead if they didn't." the dried up mare said casually. "Haven't been to the city in a while, but their probably still up there right now. No one screws with the Reavers and gets away with it, heh heh."

I was disgusted by the ghoul's conversational tone about the casual killing of Blueberry's kindred, but Blueberry herself put on a big cheesy fake grin to keep up appearances. "So, this Ed fellow is the leader of the Reaver’s ?"

"Uh huh. Keep's the Tower in running order. Supposedly he was some sort of pre-war big shot or something. Dunno myself, I came up here from Glow a few years ago."

Blueberry smiled lightly, and suddenly I was getting a bad case of déjà-vu.

"Oh, you’re from the NCR? You know who Charnel is?"

The ghoul suddenly looked around; as if there was a chance something was listening in our conversation on the top of an open hill. "Yeah, I know about ol' Colonel Cook-Cook all right. What do you want to know kiddo?"

I was surprised at how easily Blueberry was taking the ghoul's mistaken idea about her age, but then again I was surprised at how she wasn't screaming at me. "Well, why did she quit?"

"What do I look like, a tour guide?" the ghoul deadpanned.

A dozen caps somehow found there way out of Blueberry's saddlebag and onto the ground on a small pile in front of the ghoul. Staring at the pile for a few moments, the ghoul scooped up the pile into a hoof and placed it into a pocket on her robe.

"Well, she only got where she was because she was damn good at killing Minotaurs. No offence err, Ever..."

"Watchful." I grunted.

"Right." the ghoul said quickly."Anyway. From what I heard, she showed up when she was young enough to barely have her cutie mark and passed all the tests to get in to the army. She fought in the worst places on the front and survived long enough that they put her in the special forces, and, well, the only reason she wasn't put up on a tribunal as soon as possible was that she's a vet who's also a war hero, and even after she got a horn in the gut the brass only had a excuse to kick her out of Dise after she beat the living shit out of a dancer."

Blueberry raised an eyebrow. "Really, she beat up a hooker in some casino and she got reassigned?"

The ghoul shook her head. "I don't think you understand. Pretty sure the mare she beat up lost a eye and most of her teeth; she shoved one of her cigars into her eye and forced one of those big wide whisky bottles down it's throat until the sides of the poor thing's mouth ripped open."

I felt a little chill run down my spine, and Blueberry stammered slightly. The ghoul had a sour look as she continued.

"Yeah, real nasty piece of work. Apparently, she sharpened her teeth so she can eat meat better and I heard she once nicked the throat of a colt she had tricked to her bed and came along while he bled out, if you know what I mean. Real sadist, apparently she kept a mini cooler filled with blood packs on a bedside table and had a ring made of a minotaur's molar."

"Yuck." Blueberry said, face slightly green.

The ghoul just nodded, causing her one eye to rattle in its socket.

"Yeah, only reason the brass didn't just have a few of her comrades off her was that she had a bit of a following with the solders and the rumor that the minotaur’s saw her as some sort of evil spirit or something." the ghoul rambled slightly as she spoke, as if wishing to get the topic over with. "Pretty sure she got sent to Braymont to get her as far away from the main camp as possible and she quite because she knew that there was not a snowballs chance in Tartarus that she would ever get to fight on the front again."

After finishing, the ghoul gave me an odd look. "You looking to kill her, sonny? Papa died fighting her or something? Couldn't blame you for that."

I had a feeling this was going to be a recurring topic when it came to the mare.

"No, no. I am from Equestria, I am not from that group of minotaurs."

The ghoul looked somewhat relived, and turned to look at the ruins that was once Watershed.

"Ah, didn't know if I was offending you. It's just that Charnel is one of the worst ponies I know of, and that..." the ghoul's dry eye widened somehow, and gave me a panicked look of fear. "Wait, you said you came from down south? Does the name Bitter Truth mean anything to you?"

I was slightly surprised, but I shrugged. " Actually, yes. He's my father's father. Why?"

Blueberry shared the ghoul's expression of shock, and gave me an almost betrayed look.

However, I was more concerned by the fact that Bright Day had began to scramble down the southern face of the hill, screaming. Eventually, after a few moments, the sound of her screeching was lost to the cacophony of the fighting happening a quarter mile away.

"I didn't expect that." I said slowly, unsure of what set the ghoul off. Blueberry didn't even seem to notice that the caps that she gave the ghoul were lying on the ground, and just poked me in my shin, looking somewhere between being surprised and sadly amused.

"You never told me the old guy with the nice stuff was your grandfather, Watchful." she said, voice a little quieter than normal.

I gave her a smart look, lips turned upwards and eyes slightly wide. "I didn't think it was important, really."

The stare Blueberry gave me was almost undecipherable. "I would have thought that the fact that the huge old minotaur with the laser minigun who was really, really nice to you being your granddad would have been, I don't know, a conversational topic?"

I looked down at her, which was something I really did try to avoid but had little choice at that moment because of her eyes. "No really. It's just a matter of fathers and stuff, Blueberry. Why would it matter if he's my father's father?"

I didn't expect that to make her eyes water. I also didn't expect that to all but force me on my knees with her hooves and give me a hug.

"Uh, Blueberry-"

"You poor, poor thing. You don't even...oh, goodness, you don't even know why that's messed up, do you? You don't even know why. Oh, Celestia help you..."

Blueberry didn't sound sad, or even angry. If anything, she sounded...comforting?

" What's the matter, Blueberry?"

"You really don't...you really have no idea. I am so sorry, Watchful. I am...I promise that the first thing we do when we get to Tauronto is to get permanent housing for the two of us. I.."

"Blueberry, it's okay." I finished. "I thought we agreed to this?"

She stopped sounding so weepy after that, and backed away from me slowly, a sad little excuse for a smile on her face.

Ponies are bewildering sometimes.

"Okay, Watchful, okay. Now, do we want to go down there, or what?" she said, voice not entirely clear of emotions.

"Well, Blueberry, I would say that we stay here and wait for the fighting to die down. At least until..." my words dropped out of my mouth when I noticed a small red-green shape rise up behind Blueberry.

"Excuse me, but can I follow you?" Candy Cane said, somewhat bashfully, looking at the ground as she stood in front of me.

Blueberry was more than a little surprised at the little filly, but put on her best matronly smile as she put her head down to the little filly’s level, which was less than a foot.

"Excuse me, little one, but what's your name?"

Candy Cane gave Blueberry an unamused look. "My name is Candy Cane, Miss Blueberry!"

At that, the blue mare gave me a surprised look, but turned back to Candy Cane with a big smile on her face.

"Who told you to follow us, little Candy Cane?" she asked sweetly.

Candy Cane looked indignant at being called little. "Hey, I'm not little!" she protested, voice cracking a bit. "And miss Batsy told me to."

Blueberry frowned at her not mentioning any parents, but I frowned for a different reason entirely.

"Can I see 'Miss Batsy'?" I said very, very carefully, which caused Blueberry to giggle a little bit.

"Oh, no sir, she's sleeping right now, but she said she might meet you again soon!"

Those few words upgraded Candy Cane from cute to extremely creepy, or at least in my eyes. Blueberry apparently thought that this "Batsy" was some sort of imaginary friend to make up for no parents, going by her soft smile at the fillies words, while I knew that it was very real and was probably going to try and kill me.

"Well, that's nice, Candy Cane." I said, trying to sound amiable.

"Hey mister Watchful, are going to help those ponies down there?" the little filly said a little too excitedly.

I slowly looked at Blueberry, who shook her head in protest.

"Candy Cane, I am going to see if there's any pony down there who I can help. Now, you stand here with Blueberry until I get back."

Blueberry looked somewhere between surprised and annoyed at being shoved to the side, but quickly gave in to Candy Cane's general cuteness before I started making my way down the hill to Watershed.

Stopping for a few moments before I got off the hill entirely, I gave a quick glance up to Blueberry, then at the bridge where Sea Salt was probably waiting under, and stepped into the outskirts of the ruined town itself.

Being Poni Is Suffering

As I moved around in the outskirts of the town, quite a bit away from the area where it was occupied just a few hours ago by a few score ponies, I wondered to myself what I was even doing here. Was it to get away from Blueberry, or even Candy Cane? Was it to be alone to gather my thoughts? That ghoul shook me up a bit more than I let on, far more than I wanted Blueberry to know. I still didn't know why both Blueberry and Bright Day reacted like that, undoubtedly it was just another weird pony thing I would have to deal with, but it still shook me a little.

Watershed, besides the conflict going on near the river, was surprisingly quiet. I spotted no griffons flying west (or was it south? east?) of the river, and I do not believe any noticed me. As it was, I noticed that the town was really quite a bit bigger than my original impression of it a few day's earlier, with only the far end of it closest to the river having any meaningful damage from last night's assault and today's fighting. Seeing that I didn't want to die, I took temporary cover in one of the nearly identical husks that probably used to be a house a very long time ago.

The interior was wooden and smelled of rotten carpet and mold, but that might have just been because of the fact it was still wet from the storm the day before. A single staircase on the far corner of the main room was rotten enough for me to reconsider climbing it and the roof itself was patchy and of dubious use. Luckily, I found a dry spot in the room that had what looked like the aged remains of a couch, and after a few moments of debate I lazed down on it to relax a little bit.

I wasn't sure why I was there, really. I didn't enjoy being in a moldy room that was probably not safe for life, let alone one that smelled stale and ever so slightly of decay. I guess I simply overreacted at the hill.

Was that a good thing, leaving Blueberry alone with Candy Cane? There would certainty be repercussions for it later, either by Blueberry grilling me about what she had forgotten or by a tearful little filly asking why Blueberry acted oddly. I also wondered what to think about the bat creature that attacked me. Was it just protective of Candy Cane? Did it actively want to kill me? That seemed unlikely, as if it did, it would have done that when it had the chance. It certainly could have, with its hoof-claw gauntlets and its teeth. At the very least, it could talk, if Candy Cane's statement was anything to go by.

Speaking of strange things, Sea Salt was certainly waiting for me near the bridge by now, possibly frightened. I truly regretted not telling her more about the wasteland in general when I got the chance, as she presumably had enough questions to fill a book. A pity there wasn't a guide about the wasteland around somewhere. I was less worried that she would get hurt from the ongoing fighting then about what might happen if she get's too hungry for her own good and tries to get herself something to eat. Really, the entire concept that I was enabling a giant pony eating shark pony thing was odd in itself, but I suppose it had a refreshing bluntness to it compared to Blueberry's memory problems and past, Tauronto's three or so factions of unknown hostility, being shot at by ponies, and never being able to go home again.

Home. There was a word I had been trying to avoid thinking about for a while. Home was barred to me forever. I would never see the minotaur's I grew up with, even if I didn't know them that well. I would not see the few friends I had made, and would probably not see another minotaur that wouldn't try and kill me at that. Even if, in hindsight, my vague attraction to Brass was just a mental construct to make me feel even worse, I would still miss her and Copper. I also missed the Elder, the few times I had spoken to him. I didn't even like the man, but I would miss Bulls Strength as well.

Speaking of thing's that confused me and made me want to scream, I noticed that the purple mark on my hand had returned, if it had ever left. At first I had thought I was seeing things, but indeed, there was a thin light line discoloring the dark skin on my palm, and it was in the same general pattern as before. I thought about the dream I had in the hotel room, and it made me wonder. It wasn't possible that there was other Draconequui, was there? I mean, yes, there was others besides Discord, but it was highly improbable that any would simply wander around Equestria, or Caledonia, or whatever else they wished too and mess around.

I mean, yes, of course they would do that, as a general rule, being spirits of chaos and disharmony, if they all were real. I wasn't entirely sure Discord was real, either, and neither did many of the minotaurs I had the unusual talk about religion. It really was never a topic that was brought up in casual conversation, or private conversation. Everyone generally nodded and swore on the name of Discord, and tended to be satisfied at that. No one actively prayed, even the elders, and few actually seemed to care if he was dead in Canterlot or was alive in some form or another.

The only reason I was even thinking about our supposed god was because of the thing I had saw at the Seahorse, and the mark on my hand. I wasn't happy about it, not entirely anyway. It was more like I didn't know what to feel about it.

A manticore talked to me, licked my hand, and left. Then I had a dream about it turning into a Draconequui. It almost sounded like the start of a joke, but it was, to dismay, an accurate summery of the most pressing dilemma in my life at the moment.

"Is this how I am going to live for the rest of my life?" I said to the ceiling after a long bout of silence, lying on my back and trying to block out the ambient noise outside.

Naturally, no one answered.

I wasn't aware that I had dozed off when the griffon fell through the roof.

Yelling in surprise and getting myself upright, I found myself staring at a very odd sight: a griffon lying directly on top of what used to be a large cabinet, clad in now-damaged combat armor and bearing a set of guns attached to its battle saddle, one of which was quite visibly crushed.

A few second's later after the first griffon fell, another flew in through the newly-made hole in the ceiling, landing a bit less than gracefully on the ground. Unlike the first one, this one was groaning, or, perhaps more accurately, screaming bloody murder at the sky, floor, walls, and, when his eyes scanned the room in paranoia and locked with mine, at me.

"Oh fuck me!" he screamed as he noticed me at the far end of the room, slightly hidden behind a bit of shade.

I stared at the griffon, who was attempting trying to get his sidearm to fire. More worryingly, he was trying to get it to fire at me."Er, are you okay?"

The griffon stopped struggling with his gun for a few moments, glared at me, and looked back down and started fumbling with it again with increased fury.

"I don't have any reason to hurt you unless you try to kill me." I said as reasonably as possible, folding my arms up in a defensive position.

The griffon blinked, and after a few moments of deliberation lowered his gun and stashed it on a holster on his side. "...You’re not in with the Purebreds?"

I tapped the wall with a knuckle in the general direction of the fighting. "I'm not in with anyone. Here," I stepped forward away from the couch, and motioned the griffon to it. "-take my spot. You need it more than I do."

The griffon looked like I was out of my mind, but half-limped over to the couch and got up on it easily enough that I could tell that he somehow avoided major injury during his fall.

Leaning on the wall connected to the staircase, I looked at the griffon that I just let take my spot. I was even less certain about the particularities of griffons than I was about ponies, but something about his voice told me he was male. His feathers were white and his fur was brown, but he had a blue crest of slightly fluffy feathers and something told me that the blue teardrop tattoos under his eyes were not natural. He didn't seem too old, but he looked like every other griffon I had met up till this point: born in the Equestrian wasteland and with a slightly predatory gaze no matter his actual expression.

As it was, that last bit was barely noticeable when he started to calm down and take in deep breaths. "So, dude, what's your name?"

My idea that all griffons were soulless predators was quickly being replaced with one that made them be mostly like ponies, except with wings and more annoying slang.

"My name is Ever Watchful. What's yours?"

The griffon took a deep breath. "The name’s Gabriel."

We stared at each other for a few moments.

"What, exactly, is going on outside?" I asked slowly, if only to solve a mystery that has been plaguing me for little more than an hour now.

Gabriel stretched himself out on the couch, digging his talons into the fabric. "Hell. There's a half dozen Purebreds who have defected who think they are revenging this town by shooting at the rest of the Purebreds who were passing through, and they are the 'messiah of the wastes' types that pop up every so often with heavy fire power and optimism. They have a hold of the bridge, and the rest of them are trying to get out of here. Thing is, whatever happened last night attracted crows, and the Blacktalons are in town. But there's a crazy mare on the bridge that’s making them scatter, she’s probably the leader."

Wordlessly, I pointed at the dead griffon in the middle of the room, and the griffon almost smirked. "She tried to kill me when she spotted me when she was fleeing, I think. I got her anyway."

I shook my head. "I would think the table did. And you wouldn't be here if she didn't 'get' you too."

Gabriel's carefree grin shrank into something that could have been a frown if it was not for his beak's natural shape.

"Bah, fine. You know, you are awfully talky for a minotaur."

I shook my head. "And what is that supposed to mean? And if you’re not a Blacktalon, what are you?"

"Talky and full of questions!" he chirped back.

"Please, I literally just gave you my bed. Can't you just tell me?"

Gabriel didn't look pleased, but waved a claw dismissively over to the cooling corpse. "You’re the second minotaur I have ever met, and he barely talks. And I," he suddenly takes his other claw and runs it through his hair, "am I private contractor under a party who would wish to remain anonymous under even the most excruciating circumstances."

I wasn't amused by the griffon's sarcasm. "So, you’re not a Blacktalon or a Talon. Tell me, who's your boss?"

The griffon looked at me and rolled his eyes. "Look, I am not giving up something like that, even if you would kill me over it."

I decided to take a risk and prodded the griffon's beak with a thumb, at which he did nothing but whimper and dig his talons a little bit further into the couch.

"Look, if I was going to kill you, I would have done so anyway. Just tell me who you are working for." I said, voice low and head down so I was just a few inch's from touching the griffon's face. A feather or too brushed my nose, but I did nothing in fear of sneezing.

"Okay, okay! Fine, have it your way..." Gabriel said, trying to sound as brave as possible and failing badly.” His name's Dive Bomb, alright! He has my contract!"

I wasn't sure how that would help me, or what he meant by "contract", but Gabriel was clearly rattled by my ignoring of personal space, to I took my thumb off his beak and took a few steps back.

"Can I trust you to not try and kill me if I turn my back to you?"

The griffon snorted. "Doubt I could if I wanted too."

"Are you sure? Your beak could take my arm off." I said, letting a little bit of my own unease leak into my voice. Even if he was little less than half my size, he was still agitated from the pain, and he was built like the proverbial cornered animal.

Gabriel scoffed. "Really? Hell no. I'm not like...are we really having this conversation!" he said, sounding slightly upset.

I was surprised at just how flustered he looked. "I guess?"

"Pfft, you're a riot. You have any friends around here, anyone I could meet?"

I must have looked surprised, because he said so.

"Look, as far as I can tell, my job here is done and I need to leave. A safe place would be helpful."

Slightly confused at how much trust he was willing to put into me, I never less answered quickly.

"Yes, I do. There's a small blue pony and a little filly on a hill a few minutes away."

He nodded as best as he could with his head laying flat on what might have either been a stuffed animal or a deformed pillow. "Okay, that's good. I can't risk flying out there, even as far away from the battlefield. If I say I know you, will she let me take cover with them?"

I thought for a moment, and realized something foul. "She...might. She's...look, you seem like you trust me."

Gabriel shifted his weight and experimentally flapped his wings. "Yeah. You don't seem like the sort who has a agenda. Even with those scratches on your chest, you don't look like a thug." He gave a quick glance to my face, and recanted.” I mean, no offense, you look scary and stuff, with your horns and your voice, and, just to be clear, I really doubt my beak could fit around your hand, but you look calm."

I wasn't sure if I was offended or not. "Okay, there's a thing about this mare, her name's Blueberry, by the way. She's a Steel Ranger, a former one from Fillydelphia. She's not a fan of griffons."

His beak opened and closed a few times, and his eyes were wide and panicked. "Oh. Oh shit."

"Yeah." I agreed. "It's pretty bad. But if you don't wave your claws in the air, I doubt she'll shoot you. But if she does, run."

"I will keep that in mind." he said sarcastically. "Running away from Steel Ranger's is a art form from where I come from."

I scoffed, and, after getting out of my leaning position, headed for the door. But before I did, I knelled down to the dead griffon in the room.

She wasn't a pretty sight, especially with her beak cracked and a bit of wood in her face, but attached to her was something I didn't especially want but knew that I needed: a gun.

It was rather square in shape, but the barrel was wide and tubular. It could probably pass as a rather overcomplicated club if it wasn't for the fact it smelled like oil. I could comfortably lift it with one hand, but I placed my left on it for leverage, and pointed it to the door and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. Gabriel snickered.

I threw the gun.

The door broke.

Gabriel made a little anguished noise in the back of his throat.

Figuring that a gun would be a bit much, considering I wasn't intending on actually shooting anything and that, more importantly, one would have been dead weight in my grip, I quickly found my way out into the streets and to the battlefield. It seemed to actually have quieted down, with little sign of either griffons or ponies. The streets were not quiet, of course; I saw a few ponies in armor soon after I left the house I was resting in huddling around the entrance of a storefront and there were signs of life father down the road, but otherwise Watershed's greater area seemed abandoned. Eventually, after little more than a half-hour of brisk walking, I got close enough to the bridge to see every pony that was on it.

The bridge itself was wooden but sturdy looking, swaying slightly with the wind. It was clear that it had undergone damage recently, the biggest signs of which were the two tire tracks seemingly imprinted into it. I was marveled by the idiocy of driving a tank over a wooden bridge, but apparently it worked.

Now, on the topic of ponies, there was just a handful around the bridge, as Gabriel said. Two mares were on opposite sides of the railing, seemingly bored out of there minds but still having guns at there side, and there was a lone stallion that was walking around on the other side, gun raised high in the air and looking high and mighty in his combat armor. The mare who seemed to be in charge, if only going by the look of pride she had on her face, seemed to be wearing what looked like a white frilly dress with yellow trim that matched her curly hair and eyes, which would have been amusing if it were not for what looked like large silver-grey rifles attached to a battle saddle on her sides.

The three cooling griffon corpses on the ground, heads splattered messes, also killed the mood.

"You there!"

I suddenly realized that, if I could see those ponies, they could see me. The two female subordinates said nothing, but they seemed to visibly shake a little when they spotted me, while the stallion in the back actually had the nerve to take a few steps back and ready himself to shoot. The lead mare, however, just stared at me, eye's filled with distain.

Quickly discovering that even if you have two oversized guns that shoot bullets the size of thumbs it doesn't make up for the ability to aim properly, I quickly retreated into the ally I was in and started backtracking through the streets. I heard at least one pair of hooves following me, and as such I kept moving. Watershed, bless the ponies who built it, had wide alleyways, so I had little trouble moving quickly through it, and it had enough twists and turns to throw anyone off track. I was sure that I spotted one or two ponies yelling, and even the occasional gunshot. However, I avoided directly meeting any one of them.

Eventually, I found myself exactly where I was a few minutes before, with even clearer view of the bridge. None of the white-clad mare's allies were around, and she herself had a rather calm look on her face. Hesitating only a little bit, I stepped out and started walking down the center of the street, arms folded and head raised high.

The mare gave me one of the most horrified looks I have see in my entire life and began to try and shoot me.

The key word being try.

I wasn't sure how, exactly, she had managed to take down the three griffons laying nearby, if she even did, because she missed every shot she made at me. In fact, I could only wonder if she was shooting at the ground on purpose, or if the last twenty or so attempts at killing me were just warning shots. I would have felt a little bad at just how much the mare in front of me was out of her league, at least until I remembered that she was trying to murder me in cold blood.

"I don't want to hurt you." I said to the mare as she was in the middle of reloading.

"Why won't you die!" she screamed back. Frankly, I had to admit that her voice sounded light and almost sweet. It wasn't made for making death threats, anyway, perhaps polite requests.

"Aim better." I replied. I felt almost too happy seeing the frustration on the mares face as she unloaded a few more rounds into the area around me. I could swear that if there was a wall behind me, a perfect outline of me made out of bullets would be there.

"This isn't happening! I am the best markspony in Tauronto!" she cried out as she saw her probably expensive ammo hit everywhere in the general area but me. Bullet's hit roofs, walls, and dirt. I think I saw one splash into the river, which was impressive in it’s impossibility.

"Well, I must be lucky then, hmm?" I said, somewhat surprised at what I just said. I didn't know I could 'hmm'. ‘Hmm’ wasn’t in my vocabulary.

"Sh-shut up! I am Princess Cheesecake, and I command you to stop where you are so I can put you down like the monster you are!"

That was the moment where I broke.

This was it.

That was when this entire farce made me crack.

I felt my lungs fill with air, cool and refreshing, and I stopped moving entirely after a few moments and had to bend over.

"Bwahahahahahaahaahahahaha!"

I have never laughed so hard. Ever.

"That's the stupidest name I have ever heard of in my entire life!" I wheezed between the spare breaths I was able to take, "I have heard of ponies named Snowflake Special and Appletart and Troubadour and Boffenspark, but that is by far the stupidest name I have ever heard of! What are you princess of, sweetie? Eating? Is there some sort of candy land you rule over? Whatcha doing in a little frilly dress? This isn't the best place to play dress up, little filly."

I didn't really know where that sprang from in my mind, but the little pony princess started alternatively bawling and looking at me in disbelief.

"You...know Sir Boffenspark and Sir Troubadour?" she said, sounding like a little girl who just found out that school started early.

"Know them? I'm on their payroll!"

I wasn't a good liar. I also didn’t come up with that on the spot. It just came out my mouth.

Luckily, Princess Cheesecake didn't know that.

She did start trying to shoot me again, though.

She failed to hit me.

For ten minutes.

When I was standing still.

I actually bothered to count down around the second minute.

For the first five minutes or so, I thought I was dreaming some sort of surreal dream in which a manifestation of everything I found to be obnoxious about ponykind attempted to kill me with her gigantically oversized guns and failing, but I was afraid to move in fear of waking up. I didn't consider myself a sadist, but I did consider that there might have been something wrong with me when I started to crack up when she finally stopped shooting at me and fell forward on her front legs.

Walking towards her, I actually, to my own horror, repress the urge to knock her down. She was a pony, and an incredibly deluded one at that! What was happening to me!

"Look, please leave this town; I won't hurt you if you do." I said, trying to lighten up my voice.

At that, the mare sprung up, skidded a few feet backwards until her hooves touched the bridge, and opened fire.

It didn't hit me, but considering Cheesecake gasped in shock and something screamed behind me, she hit something.

I turned my head around, and quickly regretted it. The stallion with the armor and the helmet had gotten rather close behind me, but now he was sans helmet and armor, and by extent, brain matter and chest cavity.

Wordlessly screaming, she charged at me. Blinking, I did nothing but stand there as the slim, dress-wearing mare with the voice fitting somepony half her probable age head butted me in the chest. It felt like a hard punch, and I counted myself foolish for letting her even get close enough to do that, even if she didn't have a horn.

However, if her head butt felt like a hard punch to me, it seemed like Cheesecake was a hairs width away from a concussion. She fell flat on her back, leg's sprawled inelegantly, and slowly and painfully, presumably to both her body and pride, unhooked whatever contraption that kept the battle saddle attached and started crawling to the bridge.

I took a few steps away, not seeing any need to be closer to the mare than I needed too. I was also a little worked up, as I wasn't sure what went over me. The unnaturally bad aim she had was odd as well, as I plainly remembered Gabriel talking about a mare who drove away the Blacktalons. And there were those three corpses…

Spotting the mare's two companions come rushing in from the side and over to her, I did nothing as they rushed past me to get to there leader, broken in spirit and bruised in form. At the very least, I could feel good that I didn't kill the mare.

I did, however, make a serious miscalculation when it came to letting her go, and I realized this when the mare was being half-dragged across the bridge by her friends.

Said miscalculation was twelve feet long, was probably directly under the bridge the entire time, had a mouthful of sharp teeth, and a hunger for ponyflesh.

As such, I wasn't entirely surprised when Sea Salt simply burst her way through the middle of the bridge and, after a few moments’ of looking at Cheesecake's presumably shocked face, popped her head into her mouth and bit down.

I also wasn't surprised when she jerked her head up, letting the body hang in the air for a few moments before eventually falling down because of its new lack of head.

I was surprised that she managed to eat the rest of the body, dress and all, in a rather messy display of gluttony that consisted of trying to get it all into her mouth at one time and then fumbling with the legs a bit until she just swallowed the whole mess.

Then again, her claws were being used to gain leverage on the bridge, well, the other ponies on the bridge anyway. One just kept screaming, even when her lower body was promptly severed from her upper one when Sea Salt decided to bite the legs off her one at a time like some might do with a roasted bird’s limbs, while the other couldn't scream at all because of a claw finding it's way through her throat and up into the general area of her brain, which was made a mute point when her head was simply crushed like a grape in Sea Salt’s left claw and her torso mutilated and gut’s exposed with her right.

Eventually, seemingly getting bored, she took the still living mare and pulped her head against the wood, and started carving into the corpse with her claws instead of simply gorging on it like she did with the other two.

I didn't want to look, really. I really wanted to scream, or yell, or do something, but Sea Salt was looking at me with those big "the lights are all on but the lampshades are made of something’s skin" eyes and that fucking gore covered smile when she licked at her bloody meat-covered claws like it was perfectly A.O.K to do so and oh Discord I was never as disgusted as I was then.

"Hey, Ever Watchful!" she gargled happily around a mouthful of nearly liquid pastel pony, "That was really cool! How did you do that?"

I was going to say something, but then I heard something laugh at me, found my vision becoming blurry, and quickly discovered that my legs didn't work and the ground was dark.

The last thing I felt before I passed out was the odd sensation of confidence and invulnerability that I felt before, followed by the maddening thought of 'Say, wasn't that nice of her?'

Level Up?

No! This isn't a game anymore!

Author's Note

So. Yeah. That got written.

(Interlude lll) Behold Death, The Ultimate Equalizer!

I woke up in my bed, a rough little thing on a slab of stone, and realized that something was wrong.

Quickly getting off it and near the small desk I kept, I messed around with the papers and objects on it; a snow globe or two, some old newspapers, charcoal drawings, all vendor trash that, as a whole, only totaled up to a few dozen caps. None of it had any real significance besides it being a record of my life.

Turning around to the only other important set of objects in the room showed that I wasn't going insane. The guard gear wasn't there, and replacing it was the little draconequus from before.

"What is going on? What are you doing! You caused that thing with the gun, didn't you!" I yelled at the creature, which was just floating in air, seeming amused at my antics.” You did something to me!"

"Silly, your mine now! I can do whatever I want with you!" she said cheerfully. “I already told you this!"

I almost touched the creature, but I felt something shove me oddly, like I was on top of a hill and I was being pushed by the wind.

Suddenly, for no apparently reason, it seemed as if the wind-like pressure became stronger when the hill I considered reality fell from under me.

"Oh, goodness, is he alright? There was so many bullets around him."

"Of course he's not, dummy! He has a big scratch on his tummy!"

"Candy Cane, do not be rude to our guest!"

"Sorry."

"Apologies accepted, young filly. Now, you there, your name is..."

"Gabriel. Saw everything that happened."

"He did slay Cheesecake?"

“He got her to shoot one of her armed lackeys-

"-Brownsburro, yes."

"Anyway, yeah, he took her and her friends down really quickly after that. That's it. You should have been there."

"Yes, I...saw enough. The water. It was chunky."

"Does it offend your delicate disposition?"

"Know your place, mercenary."

"Know my place? Hah! I'm not the one who couldn't keep one of their top ponies from going nuts!"

"Don't be mean to mister Watchful!"

"Everyone shut up! He's waking up."

I wish I could have faked sleep easier, but apparently Blueberry was intent on seeing how much my eyelids twitched.

The group that greeted my eyes was an odd one. While I was seated on a makeshift bed in the center of a rather bare room, three ponies and a griffon were around me in a semicircle, ranging from displeased to relieve to my awakening. While I expected Blueberry, Candy Cane, and Gabriel there, I needed to get a better look at the other pony in the room to have it fully comprehend that he was Troubadour.

"You." I raised a finger at the stallion, who had the nerve to look surprised, "why did I just fight a mare in a tutu with giant guns?"

Troubadour looked at me for a few moments, and finally spoke in a slow, do-you-understand-me voice that showed just how much faith he put into my intelligence.

"Well, first off, the term 'Princess' within the Purebreds is simple the title for the highest ranking mare within it. There's been an unfortunate series of schisms lately ever since the announcement of our leader's wedding, and Cheesecake was simply a mare who was making a power grab."

"Wait, hold on." Blueberry spoke up. "That's not what I was told. I thought there was a bunch of princesses and princes in it for the sake of power distribution?"

Troubadour's ghost of a smile was thin. "Much has changed. Now, there's only room for two great leaders. Now, I do believe I must be off. Don't worry; you will be given a good work from me at the Ritz. Good day to you all."

At that, he simply walked out of the room. I was glad to see him go. Blueberry, if anything, became more stressed.

"Watchful, what happened back there?"

I looked at Gabriel, who looked like he was holding back a smart-assed comment, and then at Candy Cane, who was looking back and forth between me and the local griffon.

"Sea Salt got to them. She actually saved my life." I said, lying shamelessly. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Blueberry took in a deep breath, while Candy Cane started shaking lightly.

"Wait a moment, are you telling me you knew that freaky ass fish pony thing that wrecked the bridge that gobbled up those mares?"

I nodded. So did Blueberry.

"Well, aren’t you more than what you look like, Ever Watchful." he said, sounding impressed.

Suddenly, I realized what he just said.

"Wait, Gabriel, are you saying you saw that entire thing? With Sea Salt?"

He nodded. "Is that what you call it?"

I scowled. "She's a she."

"Okay, whatever. I’ve seen weirder things. Anyway, yeah. I got over to little miss Blueberry here, found a nice spot to watch you, and found myself surprised and confused. Didn't know minotaur's had magic."

I was confused for a few moments, but suddenly I knew what he was talking about. "Ah, yes, it's rather rare. The only reason I could pull it off was because of some really hard training I did."

Blueberry spared me a confused look after I winked at her.

"So, where is Sea Salt now, anyway?"

Gabriel shrugged." Dunno. She went under when I flew down. She did draw something in the sand outside for you, though. She was crying a bit. I didn't get too close, because, well, she was still covered in blood."

Well, damn it. I didn't need an emotionally disturbed seapony on the loose.

"Look, she was heading east, and I have a plan."

For a moment, Gabriel changed from professional mercenary to a young griffon.

"Go on." Blueberry pressed.

"Well," he said slowly, as if he was breaking some unsaid rule and felt bad about it, "there's this old radio tower a day's travel from here to the east. It's near the river and it has two ponies I kind of know. Well, by extension, they know Dive Bomb, and they would know my name if you pressed. If you showed up and wave that little filly there around a bit, they would let you in if you were wearing raider gear and painted yourselves in black and white stripes. Ask for a Golden Dawn. There's a intercom system."

Blueberry nodded. "She's a sucker for fillies?"

He shook his head. "Kind of. Not my place to talk about it, I would guess."

Suddenly, he was pure mercenary. I felt a little freaked out by the griffon's ability to change personalities like he had a switch.

"So, I am heading for my employer's place to give him what he needed. Thank you Watchful, Blueberry."

Candy Cane pouted, apparently feeling left out. After giving a quick glance at Blueberry, who rolled her eyes at the very implication, he patted her on the head and began walking off. After walking out the open door, he simply took off for wherever he was heading.

A few moments later, Blueberry gave me a stern look, and lowered her voice to the point that the mostly disinterested Candy Cane couldn't hear her.

"Tell me what happened at the bridge. I saw the bullets. Minotaur's don't have magic." she said, more inquisitive than harshly.

"I don't know." I said lamely. "This isn't the right time, Blueberry."

She put a hoof on my chest. Even if I wasn't really hurt, there was a bruise there and I was on my back.

"Like hell it isn't! There's never a right time with you!"

"Look, we need to see what Sea Salt wrote in the sand."

Blueberry took her hoof off me, but didn't see any more relived.

As it turned out, the building was very close to the river, but also extremely close to the bridge, which was still quite gory and messy. Considering that there wasn't much of a town to clean it up, I wondered how much long the stains would stay there. As such, Blueberry walked eastbound without turning with Candy Cane, hoping that she didn't see the bloody mess as I looked around the general area of the river.

The message was easy to find on the grey clay banks, but it took me some time to actually make out what it said. It was hard to miss the general shape of the strange letter's I spotted in her red book, but the small, scratched out words almost hidden on top of it made me feel very, very guilty.

I really are sorry.
نحن بحاجة الى التحدث

I had to catch up with Blueberry near the eastern edge of town, which was a far shorter walk than one might have imagined.

"What did it say?" she said quietly.

"She's sorry." I said.

"That doesn't make it okay, you know. She eats ponies. She tried to kill me. According to you, for a few moments, she did."

"And you've killed plenty of ponies and I have let some die. If we keep doing this we are going to end up killing each other."

Blueberry was quiet for a little longer than was really needed, but it seemed that she was trying to come up with another topic.

"I was thinking about wearing my robes."

"You know that's not safe here, Blueberry. Gabriel nearly had a stroke when he heard you were from Fillydelphia, and he likes us, I would think."

"Well, that's his fault. And that's not what I am even talking about. I just want to wear it, okay?"

I slowed down and looked at her. It wasn't a matter of the cold. I guess she really, deep down, simply wanted to be a Scribe for a little while.

"Okay, perhaps depending on how these friends of Gabriel treat us."

Blueberry didn't answer, and simply continued to walk. "We have about three day's worth of food left, not including that thing of tea we still have, but we have some caps, so we shouldn't be too bad."

"We had three day's with the two of us. Now we have Candy Cane. And what about water?"

Blueberry deflated slightly. "Five bottles of water. One every two days for you and one to split between me and Candy."

"That water in the river is somewhat drinkable, if irradiated. I could drink it." I offered.

Blueberry raised an eyebrow. "Really? Are you sure?"

I nodded. "I have never heard of a minotaur getting sick from irradiation, and the hills where most of the hunting goes on is rather irradiated according to travelers."

Blueberry actually smiled. "Okay, that simplifies things a lot."

Candy Cane said nothing at all, and was being rather brave for a filly that just left the only home she knew.

Then again, I could only think, that's the case for everypony I've connected with on this little journey of mine.

Perhapes They Might Need Another Kind Of Therapist.

"No, really, I swear that there's a place where there's a bunch of hairy ponies running around. I met one, he looked like he was fused to a shag carpet. I think that was his name, actually. Shag Carpet."

"Blueberry, all ponies are hairy. It's just that some are moreso than others."

"So are minotaurs! You look like someone took a few pillows and a couch and made a living creature out of it."

"I will take that as a complement, if only because I'm not the one who's been whining about the wind chill for the last few hours."

"Oh, bah, my point still stands. Remember that guy from Braymont with two bodies?"

"Well, it really was a bit larger than a filly and it was kind of sticking out of his spine, which kind of made it look funny, but it was pretty minor as far as what I have heard about. Or seen. I would think that I have seen stranger things out here."

"Really, you think that's a minor mutation?"

"Well, yeah. You know who's the strangest pony I have seen?"

"Who? Besides Sea Salt, though, because that's not really fair."

"Well, if you must know, she has blue hair with thin purple stripes and she is this tall-"

Blueberry hit my right leg lightly with a playful nudge, laughing a little bit, and Candy Cane echoed her.

The conversations for the last four hours or so have been like that, really. We really didn't want to get into anything that could scare the local six year old filly who we somehow ended up traveling with, and said little filly was more than happy to wander a fair bit away from us as we walked by the river. I discovered that whatever made the water smell like sewage must have been downriver, as after a good amount of traveling I found that the water tasted nearly as clean, surprisingly, as the water from the artificial pool we had. It wasn't, of course, who knows what sort of junk was in it, but I didn't regret my words about what I would drink.

We soon found ourselves going uphill, and because of that Candy Cane started to struggle keeping pace. Really, considering her age, she was acting very mature as far as things went; especially considering that less than two days ago she was hiding out in a old building that might have been the only home she had known.

"Candy Cane, are you tired?" I said finally after watching her stumble around a little after we had gotten to a level area near the top of the hill. She looked out of breath, either that or simply cold. The wind chill was getting worse every day, I supposed, and even I was feeling a little cold. Blueberry had yet to put on her robes, just to rule out any way she might upset Candy Cane, and the little filly herself looked worse for wear.

"No, I can still walk, I can keep up." she said quickly.

Blueberry gave her a concerned look. "Candy Cane, if you don't want to walk anymore, we can rest."

"No!" the little filly yelled, causing Blueberry to actually wince, "I don't want to stop walking!"

I felt odd, watching Blueberry and Candy Cane talk to each other. While Candy Cane seemed to act like any other filly her age, Blueberry was besides herself, as if she had never had to deal with a understandably tired child herself. While I never had to personally deal with rowdy youngsters, I knew enough from personal experience and watching the poor saps who had to deal with them that Candy Cane wasn't being unreasonable, really. Blueberry just didn't seem to know how to handle her, despite her seeming want to gain her trust.

Luckily, I had a idea that could solve everyone's problems.

"Candy Cane, do you know what a piggy back ride is?"

It took her a moment, but she nodded. "Yes I do, Mr. Minotaur."

I looked at Blueberry. From the look she was giving me, I could tell she didn't know what one was. For shame.

"Do you want to keep walking?"

Candy Cane, her apathetic frown upturning, eagerly nodded, especially after I leaned and let her climb on my back. Or, more accurately, my head, considering she might as well have been using my horns as grips to hold on to and was practically standing on my shoulders, mostly settling her weight for the back of my head.

I couldn't really see her, but I could feel her, and going by Blueberry's priceless look of confusion, it must have been a sight worth seeing.

"I can see everything from here, Mr. Minotaur!" Candy Cane loudly exclaimed when she got a good glance at our surroundings from her newly improved vantage point.

"It is great, isn't it?" I said, more to Blueberry rather than the little filly currently clinging to my head. The blue mare just stuck out her tongue.

"Don't make me come up there." she said to Candy Cane, who just giggled slightly.

As it was, the hill was not as big as we believed, and so after a few quiet moments of travel we found ourselves near what I could have only assumed to be the home of the ponies Gabriel was talking about.

First off, there was a radio tower. It was big. It looked like something one should be able to spot from miles away.

Secondly, there was a decent sized building a good distance away from it near the edge of the river that had more than a few lights on.

"Huh. Wonder if there's a generator down there." Blueberry commented. She blew it off when I gave her a unamused look.

"Hey, I haven't said anything about taking it! Yeash, paranoid much?"

I almost said something that might have been rude to say in company, but the slight wiggling feeling of the little pony basically leaning on my neck stopped me.

"Come on, Blueberry, let's just meet these ponies. It's too windy out here anyway."

Saying nothing else, we decended downwards, which made me realize just how steep the cliffs were. I had to take slow, measured steps, reducing me to Blueberry's speed, and she was carrying most of our collective stuff as it was. Candy Cane bounced around a bit, yelping slightly as I almost slid down one rockless part of the hillside, but after a few moments collected myself and continued to walk down it.

Soon, we were at the bottom of hill, and more importantly at ground level. I did not notice a road or anything that lead to the tower from any direction from where I was standing, which made me wonder how it's inhabitants got their food or visited Watershed.

Another thing of note was that the house was protected by a rather sturdy fence that, after Blueberry uprooted a dead shrub and brushed it against it, turned out to be a electric one of the "instant explosion of fire and electricity" type that could have vaporized any of us if we touched it.

After a few moments of walking around to what seemed to be the front of the building, I became even more puzzled. It was a three story house, more of a small mansion really, and it seemed to be in very good condition compared to the rest of it's surroundings. Furthermore, to my mild amusement, there was a rather cheerfully decorated gate built connected to the house by a cobblestone walkway that was dominated with a large red button and single speaker. Blueberry was reluctant to even bother trying to fiddle with the gate after what she saw what it did to the plant.

As such, after a few moments of examining the gate thoroughly, I shrugged my shoulders and pressed the big jolly red button.

The speakers crackled to life, and after making a muffled Ding-Dong noise, there was a moderately long pause before the response came.

"Er, excuse me, who is this I am talking to?"

The old speaker warped the voice a little, but it was still unmistakably small and timid, and oddly, strangely, familiar.

"Hey there! My name is Candy Cane!" the little pony on my head said excitedly.

"Oh, are you alright?" the voice at the other end of the speaker said quickly, perhaps worried at how loudly the little filly was talking.

"Yes, I am alright, but I have two friends with me that are really tired!"

Blueberry decided to cough loudly right then, and I decided that I might was well speak then.

"Mame, we were told to ask for a 'Golden Dawn'. Also, we were given directions here from a servant of Dive Bomb."

The speaker was silent for a few moments, and a little whirring noise I didn't know that was in the air stopped existing for a few moments. I prodded the gate, and it swung open easily.

"Please, come inside. Sorry with the trouble with the gate." the voice spoke apologetically.

I didn't answer back, as it quickly fizzled out with a little harsh popping noise, and I was tired and ready for a welcoming stay with whoever these kind ponies might be.

Quickly, I found myself at the only door I noticed in the front of the house, darkly painted so that the only thing that really distinguished it from the rest of the wall was the big brass handle. The porch itself had a single rocking chair on it, but little else, and even what windows I did see were covered from the inside with dark shades.

Blueberry and I waited for a few moments at the door, occasionally looking at one another as if to confirm that we were completely out of our domains and were eager to get some half decent rest.

A few minutes or so passed before the sound of key's being shuffled around came from inside the house, and soon afterwards the door slowly opened, revealing the pony who was talking to us.

Or it would have, if she were not clad in a long-sleeved black hoodie and a pair of...sweatpants, not showing a bit of her actual body. Even her face was obscured by the hood she had over her head. I had yet to see a pony so completely covered in cloth before, and it was slightly surreal.

"Why, hel....lo?" she squeaked after she looked up to me, which let me see that while her eye's were uncovered, a rather interesting red-purple color, the rest of her face was covered by what might have been a black scarf.

"Hello." I said curtly, not entirely sure what else I could say to the mare.

"Hello." Blueberry said, sounding slightly puzzled at our host's appearance but still happy at the sight of a pony who didn't seem to have it out for us.

"Hi there miss pony, why are you wearing all those cloth's!" Candy Cane said, vocalizing my thoughts perfectly.

"Oh, well..." the mare seemed to not know how to respond to the little filly currently resting on my head. "I have a delicate skin condition."

I really didn't believe her for a moment just by how she said it, but Candy Cane seemed satisfied at the answer and Blueberry, who did not seem to want to press further, simply nodded sympathetically.

"Now, please, come in, come in, there's plenty of room here. Just give me a moment, I was in the middle of something before you came, sorry about the mess." She paused for a moment, "Also, I am Golden Dawn."

After putting down Candy Cane, wiping my hooves on a well placed welcome mat and taking my first steps into the house, I noticed that it was probably was one of the nicer places I have been in my life. The color scheme tended towards dark hues, with the walls all dark wood and the carpet being thick and black. Even if it looked like a heat sink, it was actually quite cool inside; not the chilly breeze of the great outdoors, but very much a comforting sort that made me want to simply take out a blanket and sleep.

The hallway was long and lined with rooms, but she just stopped at one of the ones closest to the door and pushed it open. "Please, have a seat in the parlor, I will be with you in just a few minutes. Please, don't be afraid to eat what's on the table."

"Thank you very much, Miss Dawn. Most ponies would not be so eager to help travelers, especially out in the wasteland." Blueberry said politely.

Saying nothing, the completely covered mare nodded slightly and made her way for the set of staircases at the end of the hall while we walked inside the room, or, in my case, shimmied through the door frame.

The parlor, as Golden Dawn called it, seemed to be freshly dusted, if not seemingly used often, with two large couches and three oversized fluffy looking chairs, all ranging from brown to dark grey. There was what seemed to be a large set of speakers off to the side near the singular fireplace, and there was a large table, true to her word, with a small assortment of glass jars seemingly filled with candy. What surprised me was that there was also a large rectangular dish set on the table with three dozen or so flat circle-shaped light orange objects that smelled really, really good.

Candy Cane did not seem to register that the freshly prepared meal was already there when we entered the room, and as such started munching on the sweet-smelling orange things.

After she put down her bags on the ground, Blueberry popped one of the orange things in her mouth.

"It's carrot. It's actually carrot." she mumbled, sounding amazed. "How could you get a carrot to grow this far north?"

"What's a carrot?" I said, feeling even more out of place than I did before.

Blueberry looked at me like I was insane, but just hovered a handful of the orange things over to my face.

"It's a root vegetable. Really, they're not that uncommon, but these are really fresh and really good. Doesn't taste as good when it's preserved."

Reluctantly, I took the thumb-length carrot slices in my hand, and bit into one. It was sweet, slightly crunchy, and almost savory. I was never one for the tasteless excuses for plants that came out of cans, sticking with cheeses and meats, but I did admit that I liked this newfangled 'carrot'.

"It's good."

"Why, thank you."

Slightly startled, I turned around. Golden Dawn entered the room somewhat quickly, making her way to one of the large easy-chairs the dominated the room. "We don't have a dedicated dining room in the house, so we eat brunch in here."

Candy Cane looked up at the completely covered mare with the biggest smile I have yet to see on her face. "This is really really good! Thank you miss Golden Dawn!"

The mare, just by going by her physical reaction, seemed to be somewhat flustered. "Oh, thank you very much little one." Sparing a look at the other two adults in the room, she looked at the plate of food almost regretfully. "I know it is rude, but I cannot eat with you all without risk."

After a long pause dominated with the sounds of Candy Cane eating, the mare looked at us directly." On that matter, I don't believe I got your names before."

"My name is Ever Watchful, and this is Blueberry Cream." I said between carrot slices, motioning to the blue pony next to me on the couch who was nibbling on a few herself. "And these are quite good. I suppose you grilled them?"

It took her a few moments to respond. "Why, yes. We have a friend who owns a farm a few days from here, and he let's us buy them at a discount."

Blueberry spoke up. "There is another pony here, right?"

Golden Dawn looked at Blueberry for a few moments, and for a moment I thought I saw something under the cloth over her mouth that was certainly not a tongue. "There is. Her name is..." for some reason, she paused. "Hermitic Order. She's sleeping right now, but she should be up soon enough. The carrot was supposed to be a surprise, she's had a long week, you see, but I guess that having visitors will be surprise enough."

I wasn't sure what to say, other than that was a horrible name, but Blueberry kept talking. "That's nice. So, are you some sort of slave or something?"

The quiet in the room could have smothered a elephant.

"N-no, she is my marefriend." she said, stuttering slightly in shock.

I gave a hard look at Blueberry, who, if anything, looked less comfortable than before. "My apologies."

"Quite." Dawn replied quickly.

The silence in the room was quickly broken when Candy Cane discovered a small plastic jar under the table that was, in actuality, an ice-box filled to the brim with Sparkle-Cola and other sugary pony drinks.

"Miss Dawn, can I have a soda?" the little filly said, surprisingly calm.

The garbed ponies expression was unreadable, but her voice lacked that subtle sourness that made the last thing she said sound so displeased. "But of course, if your caretaker's don't mind."

She said 'caretakers' like it was a in-joke.

"We don't." Blueberry spoke for me. "We are not actually her caretakers, really. She's a orphan, and we were hoping to drop her off somewhere safe."

Candy Cane actually nodded at what Blueberry said, leaving me to wonder if they had talked about it when I was out and about getting chased by ponies.

"Ah." Golden Dawn said, sounding surprisingly nonplussed to the whole thing for a pony described as liking children.

A few moments later, I could tell that any further conversation was likely to only make one of us upset.

"Do you mind if you could show us to a room we could stay in, I mean, to get our stuff off the floor?"

It was a bad excuse, but it sounded like Dawn was almost relived to get us out of her sight. "Oh, take any room upstairs. All the doors are unlocked, and they should all clean."

Blueberry got up first, taking her bags with her, followed by Candy Cane. Blueberry gave me a expecting look, but I shook my head and soon she got the message and went into the hall for the staircase. After a few moments, it was just me and Golden Dawn.

"I am sorry for my friends rudeness." I said, bringing my fist to my face to muffle a cough.

The pony nodded, and stood up from her chair and made her way to the plate of carrots, apparently making note on how many were left, which wasn't many. "Thank you, but no need for apologizing. I understand that my appearance might cause some questions. A mare living seemingly alone in a massive house with an electric fence covered completely should make one ask questions, anyway. "

I shrugged. "I suppose. On that note, when could I see this...Hermitic Order?"

Dawn hummed lightly. "Soon. The last few weeks have been hard on us. A cousin of her's is arriving soon, and we are planning a big trip to Tauronto." she paused for a few moments, and she took one of the carrot slices from the plate. "She doesn't like the idea of me coming with her."

I took a soda from the open icebox, and popped the lid of it and took a drink. It was more of a way to continue the conversation than anything related to thirst, but it did let me indulge in a weakness of mine for Sparkle-Cola. "Is it because of your condition?"

The mare turned her head away from me for a few moments, seemingly lifted the bit of cloth covering her mouth, and after a few oddly wet-sounding crunches she turned back to me, flap back over her mouth and the carrot gone. "Yes, actually. We both take frequent visits to the local doctor there, we can afford it, really, but she doesn't like how the restless the city has been getting in the last few weeks. It always gets a little more dangerous to visit when winter comes around, but we are in the middle of fall and it is looking like it is going to be a bad year."

I wasn't sure how to react to her turning away to eat. "Understandable. Where I come from, winter is the hardest time to live through. Right now, I suppose, they would be preparing to preserve food."

The pony suddenly seemed interested in what I was saying. "I wasn't aware that there was any minotaur's left in Tauronto."

I was getting a little sick of not knowing things about that city. "Actually, I am from a town a few days travel from here. Could you explain what you mean by that, exactly? I keep hearing about it."

Dawn seemed surprised. "Well, a long time ago, Taurontos northern half was controlled by a vast herd of minotaurs and buffalo, and they raided places around and in the city a lot. But a few years ago, perhaps thirty or so, really, they suddenly stopped doing raids. It was like they simply went away. Vanished."

Her words were disappointing, really, but at least they held answers. The Elder seemed to have lied to me. Again.

"I see. Thank you."

The mare sighed a little, and looked over to the radio in the back of the room. "It's a pity, about that filly. Where did you find her?"

I was starting to feel comfortable around the mare. It wasn't that I wasn't before, but something told me that, despite nearly every other pony I had met so far in the wastes, she didn't have any secret plans or was involved in something that was probably antagonistic in general.

"She was in a building in Watershed, living alone. Blueberry might know what happened to her parents, but she doesn't...trust me, really. Well, I think that she is okay with me, but she's still unnerved by me. Understandably, of course, but it's a little disappointing."

"Oh, I am sure she's just nervous. I mean, I wear...this for a reason." she said, words trailing off as she spoke, eager to change the topic.

I decided to beat around the bush. "You don't wear that for a skin condition, do you?"

She was quiet for a long time, long enough that I was surprised when she answered. "Yes, yes I do. But it is not a...traditional skin condition."

" I figured that out when you ate that carrot in the other direction. I wouldn't suppose you have, say, tentacles for a mouth or something?" I said, a little weary that I could be right.

To my surprise, Golden Dawn laughed. "No, no, but a good guess. But please, I would rather not talk about it. Perhaps later, but not right now."

I understood that it must me a sensitive topic, and that there had to be more to it than her mouth, considering what she was wearing, so I dropped the topic.

However, going by the sound of someone walking down the hall, I doubted I could have continued talking about it.

The unicorn who entered the room was a bit different than I was used to in the wasteland. First and foremost, she looked more like the ponies you saw on those ruined ads or murals, a little thicker around the edges in general and generally clean looking, with greyish fur and medium length frizzy violet-colored hair that had a few lighter stripes, with eye's the same general color as her hair. Furthermore, she didn't look like she had been outside for more than a few days in her life, with no signs of hardship gracing her hooves or body whatsoever. Not a hair out of place or a discolored patch of fur or even a scar. Nothing.

Also, she was wearing purple knee-high socks and some sort of red lacy undergarment that I felt strangely embarrassed at looking at. That was another thing.

"Oh, Dawn, whatever that is, it smells so-guh!" the mare, supposedly named Hermitic Order, snapped out of her sleepy daze when she noticed me, apparently too surprised to continue speaking. I could only notice that she sounded very familiar.

"Hermitic Order, this is Ever Watchful. He and two other's are going to be spending a few days here, and were suggested to come here by one of Dive Bomb's servants. "

"Gabriel." I said, causing the grey mare's ears to perk up.

"Oh, really? Well, that's okay." she said, not sounding entirely certain about what was going on herself. I could relate.

"Actually, I have been meaning to talk to you. Your name is Hermitic Order, yes?"

She paused. I knew it.

"I don't think that's the case. Your name is Nightcore, right? You'r the mare from the radio."

Both the mares in the room reacted strongly to this. Golden Dawn just breathed in deeply and started to shift away from me, while Hermitic Order, or, rather, Nightcore, broke out into a toothy grin.

"What do you know, somepony knows who I am." she said, but she gave herself a look-over and started to look embarrassed. "Er, wait a moment, I gotta go change out of this, didn't expect, uh, you."

I raised a hand, slightly reluctant to cut her off considering that I was the guest here, but I was feeling slightly impatient. "I require a informed source of information about a few things. I have never been to Tauronto and I need advice from a pony who has been there."

The mare took that in. "Well, that's reasonable, sure. Let me just-"

I moved to my own bag, the only one that Blueberry did not take herself, and took out the most important item in the bag, shifted it until it rested in the center of my palm, and showed it to the mare, sticking my arm out a little to do so.

"Do you happen to know what this thing is?" I said, feeling a little hopeful.

Nightcore stared at it for a few moments, and a brief flicker of interest past though her eyes.

"Huh," she said, voice filled with approximately none of the shock I was expecting, "it's a Alicorn Amulet. Haven't seen one of these things in years."

.

Author's Note

Meet the contractual F:E lesbian pair!

Backstory Time with Blueberry and Watchful

"I don't like this, Watchful." Blueberry said bitterly.

"Blueberry, they seem like nice people. And I really do not think that Dawn is a slave." I said for the umpteenth time that day, stretching my legs as I did, making Blueberry walk around them as she stomped around on the floor.

The room Blueberry picked out upstairs was very large and empty, looking like it could be able to hold far more than two beds, a mantelpiece that she was unsure if it was appropriete for her to open, and a small table. Otherwise, the walls were a bare white and the rest of the room's upstairs in general didn't seem to be furnished in the same way that the lower floor was.

But rather than appreciating the hospitality I was receiving, I was mostly concerned with trying to get Blueberry convinced that our hostess was not some sort of slaver, cannibal, raider, or cannibal slave-taking raider.

"Well, that other mare, Nightcore, she's weird too! Did you see her? She and her living alone in the middle of nowhere-"

"We are a day's length from Tauronto, Blueberry." I reminded her patiently.

"It doesn't matter, Watchful! Dawn acts like a puppy around her, and even lied about what Nightcore's real name is! Ponies don't...they don't lie about there names like that unless they have something to hide!"

I had to admit, she had a point. Blueberry came down the stairs a few moments after I took out the Alicorn Amulet, as Nightcore called it, and so met the mare who seemed to have control of the house while I hid what was probably a cursed object of horrible power behind my back while Dawn just gave me a funny look.

"I mean, really, let's see what they have here, shall we Watchful?" Blueberry rambled slightly. "These two mares are living in the middle of nowhere in a big fancy pre-war house with a electric fence around it, and one is smart enough to have the ability to work the local radio station and the other wears a full-bodied outfit and wears a scarf around her face! Do you know how weird it is to wear pants in the wasteland, Watchful? Pants."

I shrugged a little. "I don't."

Blueberry looked a little upset that I wasn't immediately agreeing with her. "Well, it's weird. Anyway, they have fresh food and electricity and ice, real ice, and the more I think about it the more I am starting to regret bringing Candy Cane here!"

I was a little startled by how loud she was raising her voice, so I just put a finger to my lips and shushed her. "Blueberry, remember that we are not the only people here." After a few moments of thought, I continued. "How is she, anyway? She chose the room furthest down the hall, right?"

I hadn't checked on the little filly yet, but Blueberry's quick nod relived me slightly. "Yes, I was a little upset that she didn't want to stay in the same room as one of us, but I understand why she wanted to. The room she's in looks like a foals room anyway, lot's of toys and stuff, so she might just want to rest." Blueberry started to shift a little on her legs, looking at me with a pained expression. "She knows me, right? You said her name right before we left that building. I met her before and forgotten it, haven't I?"

I felt a lump of lead form in my gut. "You and I found her in that docking area a day and a half ago. I didn't want to say anything. You knew who she was before I talked to Sea Salt, but when I returned you didn't recall the name."

Blueberry was quiet for a little bit, shuffling her legs a little. "I remember going in there, sitting around a fire, exploring a bit, and then finding you on the ground, and then we had a argument. It's all just...a blur, what happened in between all that."

I looked down on Blueberry, but I had little choice in doing so due to her looking up at me. "Were you going to tell me that, Blueberry?"

She sniffled. "No. I noticed it...right before we were going to leave. I think I just kept thinking about how upset I was and after a few minutes I couldn't remember why I was angry at you. I just was."

I took a breath, and sat up fully on the bed, putting my hands on my knees and relaxing my shoulders to look as open as possible.

"Blueberry, you are too stressed out to be thinking like this. You are tired, Candy Cane's tired, and I'm tired. Please, just lay down for a few moments and after that we can talk this over."

Blueberry sniffled. "This isn't fair. Why are you the one who is sounding agreeable?"

I shrugged. "I would guess that I am the one who's the least tired."

At that, the little mare gave me a expressionless look, and after a few pretty funny attempts on jumping onto the bed with her little legs, she managed to get on it and walk to the side with the pillows, sighing as she fell to the side.

"That wasn't funny." she said, too tired to be entirely angry at me.

I didn't respond to her directly, not really wanting to agitate her. "Do want to talk about something, Blueberry?"

She took her time to move in my general direction, little pudgy body flipping over once until her face was resting on a pillow. "Yeah. Watchful, is there anything I need to know about minotaurs?"

I was not entirely surprised at her words, but I still wasn't expecting them now. "What do you mean?"

Blueberry didn't bother to look at me when she talked, and that wasn't a good sign. "I know you have a father and a grandfather, but you said..." she took a moment to form the words in her head, "you didn't know who you mother was."

So, it was that. "Well, yes. Remember when we had that conversation about how males were raised apart from the females?"

Blueberry lifted her head off the pillow and looked at me, but she didn't seem any less tired. " I...guess?"

A mildly alarmed look passed over her face. "No, I do remember it, I really do, it's just been a while."

I took a few moments to let her know that I wasn't worried before speaking again. "It's just another part of that, really."

She gave me a blank, unamused look. "Not knowing your own mother is a part of that?"

"Yes." I bluntly replied.

Blueberry gave me a withering look. "Watchful, that isn't right. That's horrible."

I shrugged a little. "Really, it's not a question one just asks someone else. What would I do, ask my father who he had sex with?"

She blinked, looking startled. "Watchful, you don't know your mother and..." she frowned, a truly concerned frown. "Your dad was the big black minotaur who was in that hunting lodge, right? The one with the scary looking armor?"

I nodded. "Yes, his name is Bulls Strength. He's the Elder's right hand."

Blueberry gave me a intense stare. "Bitter Truth, right? Your grandfather?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

Blueberry closed her eyes, and she started to tremble a little. "Watchful, don't you get it? You are talking about your family. You are talking about them like...like they are strangers. That's not right."

I was confused where she was going with this. "Not really, Blueberry. No one else really know's who there mothers are besides the cows. Really, all that's expected for a father is to claim a newborn as his own when he's born. Normally, that's that, but..."

Blueberry looked at me intently. "What?"

I knew what I was about to admit might not sit well with most ponies, just out of what I had seen from the few who learned of it. "Well, you know how he is the leader of the hunter's, right?"

Blueberry raised a hoof, as if to stop me from talking. "Can you tell me about them, please? They seem to be important."

I took a few moments to gather my thoughts. Really, she was right; they were the reason I wasn't sleeping in my own little home right now. "Well, the hunters are the one's who actually leave the commune and get foodstuff. Geckos and red-hogs and things like that. They also defend the commune on the rare occasions when it's threatened."

Blueberry thought over that. "So it's sort of like a militia, then."

I nodded. "I suppose, but that's not the right word. Every adult has to guard the commune, and we all have at least one handheld weapon or two, but they always deal with the threats before they ever reached the commune."

"You keep using that word, commune. Is it short for community, or something?" she said questioningly.

"Not really." This was actually a topic I remembered asking about when I was younger. "It's not a village, really. A long time ago, the Elder and hundred other minotaur's settled the ruins of what used to be a village. It's a commune because it's able to survive without any outside contact."

Blueberry blinked. "How old's the El-" she stopped herself, "Bitter Truth? Did he tell you this?"

I nodded. "He's the only one who is old enough to remember the settling of the place. My father was born there soon after, however."

She raised a eyebrow. "How old do minotaurs live to be?"

I wasn't entirely sure myself. Dying from old age was unheard of. It was always a hunting accident or a fall down the stairs. "I don't know. I suppose until we get too weak to walk, I guess, I think the average age in the commune is thirty or so. I heard a rumor that the Elder has actually gotten taller as he aged, though."

Blueberry looked a little miffed at that. "Watchful, does anyone else in your commune have grandparents?"

I never thought much of that, really. It never seemed important. "No, I don't think so."

Blueberry rolled her eyes, and waved her hoof in the air as if telling me to get on with it. "You were saying about your father being the leader of the hunters?"

I stretched my arms out into the air, taking note that much of the hair on them were still somewhat matted and was in need to be cleaned. But then again, the same could be said for the rest of me. "He's the leader of the hunters, yeah. He killed a dragon."

Blueberry took a sharp breath. "He killed a what?"

I frowned a little. I wasn't sure if I had told her that or not already. "A dragon, a young one apparently, but a dragon regardless. He had armor made from it's hide. He's really important."

She looked at dubiously. "So, what was the big deal that makes you not know about who your mother is?"

"Well..." I said slowly, trying to put it into the best light possible. "Normally, one of my kind could pick out who their mother is simply by who there father's spent time with. Sometimes, it's even stated by her. But there are certain privileges to being a leader, and one of them is having...choices when it comes to the cows."

Blueberry opened her mouth, as if to say something, but slowly closed it as her eyes widened. "You are saying he...you said that the average minotaur in your community is around thirty, yes?"

I nodded knowing where she was going with this and not liking where it was heading. "Yes, I would think. We do not do much regarding birthday's, but my father turned forty four during this summer, and besides a few aged individuals he's the oldest actively working bull."

Blueberry sat up on her haunches, and gave me a horrible scowl. " Are you saying he has the ability to do whatever he wants to anyone he wants!"

I quickly shook my head. "No, no, it's not like that, it's...it's not a rape licence, Blueberry! There's a...there are records for this sort of thing that are kept to keep the commune in working order. With number's like ours, there is always the chance that anyone you see might be a cousin, so there are deep restrictions about who one could, well, produce a child with." I took a deep breath, watching Blueberry's reaction carefully. "Being the second most important minotaur in the place gives him access-"

Blueberry narrowed her eyes at the use of that word, but there wasn't a better one for what I was trying to get across.

"- to three cows. It's...something they all agree to. It's kept private, but...I know who they are, but none of them spend much time with him anyway. There's only a little bit of prestige in it for them-"

Blueberry's nostrils flared.

"-look, that's it, okay. I don't think talking about it much more would make it any better for you." I said lamely, feeling something in my chest squirm a little, like I just told someone a secret that would only get me in trouble.

"That's...there's not a word for just how...that's not right." she said, sounding not really angry so much as empty. "You know what? I don't want to know anything about minotaurs anymore. Congrats, Watchful."

I layed back down on the bed carefully, making sure my horns did not touch the wall to make sure they didn't scratch the paint. "Blueberry, you have told me about your mother. Tell me about your father."

The little mare buried her face into the pillow, but it didn't muffle her words. "Oh, Goddesses, I thought therapy was a dead art." She sighed. "You really want to know?"

I understood what she meant, but I still pressed. " I do, Blueberry. It would be only fair. I was going to check on Candy Cane soon, so I will stop bothering you."

Blueberry shifted her weight a little and raised her head, making her do that weird thing ponies do with there heads up high but the rest of there body resting on the side. "You are not bothering me Watchful. You have never really bothered me." she said gently.

I couldn't help but smile, but I dropped it a little when she continued. "If I said anything about my father being in Fillydelphia, that was a lie."

"Why would you lie about something like that, Blueberry?" I said, a little hurt.

She sighed. "It's something I learned to do over time, really. My mom and dads...thing wasn't really normal in the Rangers. It's not really a dramatic thing, like him being an exile or something, but it's not really something that's looked at fondly."

I nodded, understanding where she was coming from a little.

"Well, it kind of start's with a story, I guess. The Elder of the Bridle Hills Steel Rangers was newly chosen, and it's generally custom for another Elder to see a new Elder if it's possible. As it is, Bridle Hills was isolated as far as Rangers went, being sort of..." she paused for a moment, giving me a odd look, as if she was wondering if she was going to continue to speak. "It's the central hub for Rangers in the southern region of Equestria. but Steel Rangers in Fillydelphia were the closest to them."

"And your mother was Elder, I guess?" I said.

"No." Blueberry said firmly, but she relaxed her glare when she saw the look on my face. "She was a Paladin at the time, but she was a Senior one, so she was part of the bodyguard for the one Elder at the time, Toasted Oats." Going by how she was talking, she was trying to formalize the rest of story in her head, as if she was telling it for the first time. "Anyway. she met a Scribe named Cherry Charmer."

I didn't show it, but I wasn't entirely sure if I liked the sound of that name. I remembered the name of a pony in the text I found deep in Blueberry's stuff. Cherry Bomb. A name of a pony to go for help. I didn't know what to make of that detail, if only because I wasn't sure if I wanted to think about it.

"I know you must be thinking that this is about him being a unicorn and her a earth pony. That's not true, really. It was about distance." Blueberry looked at me expectantly, possibly wondering if I was going to say anything. "There's nothing that's wrong about a Scribe and a earth pony loving each other very much, but while all foals are raised communally," she said that last word like it was spoiled for her forever,"they live with their parents. Now, it's okay to marry out of your platoon, because there's only so many Rangers around, frankly, but most mares request to move in with the father or vice versa. But my mom...didn't." she said quieter than before, more subdued.

"She didn't even tell the others she was pregnant until she literally couldn't fit in her armor anymore, and by then Red Eye was starting to be a real thorn in our side. We lost the only radio strong able to reach Bridle Hills a long time ago, and, well, they don't let others in without prior warning. It's like a stable down there anyway, sealed off from everyone else, and it has to be. It's sort of a hub for most of the civilians in the Rangers, especially since times have been getting rough for us lately."

She started to frown.

"But my mom never talked to me about meeting my dad. I don't think she really cared about him, really. She always cared more about keeping the Steel Ranger's afloat in Filly, and by the time I got my cutie mark she was Elder, so she was always a little distant."

I had a feeling she was going to start talking about her mother and how she loves her.

And she did.

"She did love me, really. She got me things when she could, toys and dolls and other things most of the other younger foals didn't have. But she told me how she got everything she gave me. It was always from some pre-war household, and she would tell me what she saw in it. She would tell me what was hanging on the walls, what was in it that she didn't see, and even...who was left in it."

I winced.

"One time," she took a shallow breath, and her voice became a little shaky, "there was another filly named Sweet Tart. Her father brought her home a simple game, I think it was a ball game, something square you tilted to get a ball into a basket or something silly like that, and I wanted a turn with it, but she said no. My mom noticed that, so on my eight birthday she had Sweet Tart's father take the game away from her and give it to me. As a present. But she noticed that I wasn't happy that Sweet Tart had it taken away, so she stomped on it with her hoof after the party and broke it." Blueberry sniffed. "Sweet Tart didn't talk to me after that."

I winced again. The more I learned about Blueberry Sabre, the less I thought that the pony saying about having something bad is better than having nothing at all was wrong.

Leaning forward to the point I was halfway off the bed, I turned my head to face Blueberry. "Hey, I am going to talk to those two downstairs soon, okay? We are not in a real hurry, so just sleep. I am going to talk to Candy Cane now."

Blueberry still somehow looked at me from her weird pony position from where I was, neck turning oddly at me. "Okay, Watchful. I did mean what I said, though. About therapists and you being here. I think I needed that off my chest."

I nodded a little. "It's no issue, Blueberry."

She didn't respond to me, and after a few moments I realized that she wasn't going to, given that she was snoring.

Making note of that, I took to the floor and made for the hallway.

The entire upper floor wasn't really unfinished so much as barren. It was a little cold, perhaps lacking the insulation that the lower floor had, but that wasn't a issue. I groaned a little when I noticed how much noise my hooves made on the wooden floorboards, but I kept moving until I got to the end of the hall where the door to Candy Cane was.

When I opened the door to the room without much thought, three things became apparent.

The first thing was that Candy Cane was sleeping on a small brightly colored bed, one apparently made to look like a tiny boat going by the shape of it and the wave patterns on the blanket she was burrowed under.

The second thing was that Golden Dawn was standing off to the side, carefully picking up some overturned stuffed animals and toys.

The third thing was that she wasn't wearing the clothing she had on when she greeted us.

The fourth thing was that the reason she wore said clothing was very, very apparent as soon as I got a good look at her.

We both stared at each other, both of our eyes wide and full of shock.

Golden Dawn did nothing more than look at me, but even as she cried out in surprise I started to feel lightheaded and feeling gravity pull me to the floor, out of shear instinct, perhaps.

To be frank, I thought I had seen the strangest individual I would ever know in a dusty old aquarium.

That wasn't true, as not even Sea Salt made me black out at the first sight of her.

You Know, There's A Real Chance That She's The Main Antagonist

I didn't know when I woke up in the bed, really, but I did know that I didn't want to get up. My back ached badly and my head was throbbing, and as it was I wasn't sure what I would awaken to, considering the last thing I saw.

Moving my head to the right and letting myself open a single bleary eye, I saw that I was back in the same bedroom Blueberry and I hunkered down in, and that, among other things, the pony in the bed to my right was snug in the blankets, face-up and snoozing quietly.

If the light coming from the window in the center of the wall was any indication, it was something close to morning. Letting myself smile a little, I let my head sink back into the pillow it was rightfully resting on and laid there for some time, not really wanting to get up because, to be frank, the bed might have been the softest thing I had ever had the pleasure to sleep on.

I kept doing this until I felt a odd pressure on my left horn, as if something was adding weight to it. Hoping I didn't get it caught on one of the pillows on the bed, I opened my eyes just to see if that was the case.

Two big brown eyes filled my line of vision entirely.

I suddenly became aware of the something small breathing, and the smell of burnt sugar.

"Heya mister Watchful." Candy Cane whispered halfway into my ear, "I didn't want to wake you, so I just waited for you to wake up. There's breakfast downstairs."

I probably would have been excused if I had a heart attack right then and there, because Discord damn that little filly if she wasn't trying to make me have one, but I took a deep breath through my nose and spoke as softly as I could considering how I woke up.

"Candy Cane, why are you standing on my horn, and how long have you been there?"

The little brown filly blinked. "Well, I was trying to stay on the pillow, but you were moving a bit, and I really just wondered if you would notice." She paused. "I'v been waiting for you since the sun came up, I think."

I moved a bit to the side, all but forcing her to get her little legs off my horns and making her plop down on one of the fluffier pillows.

"Candy Cane," I grumbled, shooing her away with a free hand as I started to move of the bed, "don't to that again."

"Okay." she said, not taking her eyes off me as I moved across the room.

"How do you know there's breakfast, Candy Cane?" I said tiredly as I made my way over to my gathered belongings on the floor, confirming that they had not been tampered with overnight.

"Oh, miss Dawn said that she made some for us, but that it would've been rude if I ate without you and Blueberry. So I was just waiting."

I was pleasantly surprised, if in a somewhat subdued manner. While I now perfectly understood that Golden Dawn had a very good reason to wear as much as equinely possible, she did seem the sort who would try to avoid the topic at hand by any means possible, up to including what seemed to be a genuine meal.

"Candy Cane, are either of the nice mare's home?" I said hopefully.

The little filly shook her head. "No, miss Dawn said that she and miss Nightcore would be gone for most of the day, in that big radio building, and that she would be over soon. She didn't want you to have any need to go over there, so she made breakfast"

I frowned. I needed to talk to Nightcore, that wasn't a option. She seemed to have a deep understanding of the area and I needed information about the apparently horrible place I was traveling to.

Furthermore, I had the feeling I needed to apologize to her for something.

"Mister Watchful, are you okay? Your staring into space really funny." Candy Cane quipped before looking at the door. "Can we eat now? I am really hungry."

I suddenly had a thought, and it wasn't one I wanted to have again. "Candy Cane, did you see Golden Dawn without her...coverings?"

The filly shook her head up and down excitedly, eyes wide. "Uh huh! She didn't want me to see her, but I told her not to be scared, and she showed me anyway! Didn't she look cool with those bunch of little clickity-clack-y things on her mouth like a big radr-"

I directed a hand over to the general direction of Blueberry to quiet the little filly down. "Now, Candy Cane, Blueberry doesn't need to know that you saw what she looks like under her clothing. Golden Dawn and Nightcore are all very nice ponies and we don't want to lose them as friends. Now, Golden Dawn is very sensitive and would probably not like it if Blueberry learned about it without her knowing first."

Looking a little dejected, I realized that, out of anyone in this building, Candy Cane probably wanted to stay close to Blueberry, even if she was completely unqualified to watch over her.

"Candy Cane, please understand I am not trying to be mean. I understand that you might like miss Dawn, but you can't talk about what you saw to anyone beside's me or Dawn. Go on downstairs and eat breakfast, I will be down in a minute along with Blueberry."

At that, the little filly brightened up considerably, and in a few moment's scuttled out of the room on her short little legs to the staircase. After she left, I let out a breath I was holding.

The little filly creeped me out. It wasn't just the fact that she woke me up so suddenly, but also she seemed to have no reaction to Dawn's...particular features other than childish glee. Perhaps I should have expected no different from the filly who lived in a room with two corpses and a bat-pony for company, but I could do nothing to make her any less creepy, and I had bigger worries at the moment.

"Blueberry, wake up." I said, poking her in the shoulder. Or at least I hoped it was her shoulder, it could have been her neck for all I knew.

"Ugnf." the lump under the sheets groaned.

"Blueberry, there's food."

Suddenly, the little blue pony out of the covers threw them off the bed, presumably with magical assistance, and took quick fleeting glimpses of the room. After a few moments of confusion, she looked directly at me and scowled.

"Not funny, Watchful, you owe me for that, I really am hungry." she said glumly, giving me a hard stare. It might have been a effective one if her mane wasn't covering half her face.

"Blueberry, I am not being mean. There's breakfast downstairs."

Blueberry mouthed last three words I just said silently and gave me a look like I was crazy. "Your kidding, right? Breakfast? They made breakfast? Let me guess, it's like a giant buffet down there?"

"Omigoddsstisisgood." Blueberry tried to say over a mouthful of syrup-soaked pancakes before giving up and swallowing. "Watchful, remind me to never say a bad thing about these wonderful ponies ever again. Praise these ponies. Praise these wonderful lesbians."

"Okay." I said, spooning up a small amount of red lumpy berries that were almost shaped like little hollow cones and putting it on my own stack of pancakes. "All hail Discord, bringer of bountiful gayness."

Candy Cane said nothing, too busy apparently attempting to double her own body weight in one sitting, which normally I would have objected to but, at the moment, I didn't have the heart to tell her to stop.

Blueberry thought she was making some sort of giant exaggeration when she said that our hostess made a buffet for us. That was actually closer to the truth that she could have thought, really.

The parlor room's central table was covered in all sorts of foods that I would have thought would have been a meal unto themselves. There was several stacks of big fluffy bread-things that Blueberry called pancakes near a large towering bottle of maple syrup, and another plate was topped with several hearty slices of a sort of yellow cheese that was soft and almost buttery. Off to the side, a few dozen sheets of a strange salty-smelling plant that Blueberry identified as seaweed was seemingly prepared in a way that almost perfectly mimicked bacon, complete with soft fatty bits and harder, chewier bits that had good texture. There was also two large bowls stacked with small berries, both somewhat lumpy but while one was filled with dark colored berries, the other was filled with the light red one's I found tasty enough to add to my plate.

That was another thing; there was a stack of plates on a small wooden stool nearby, complete with little forks and knives and little napkins. I didn't know there were any napkins left that were not improvised.

To be honest, this was not my sort of fair. I preferred meat, and I didn't especially like sweet things anyway, and so I stuck with the cheese and fruit. However, my two pony companions seemed to inhale the sugar-dripping fruits and breads like they had never eaten before in their lives.

"Blueberry, don't you think you should slow down? I mean, you have eaten a lot already." I said a few minutes of eating my fill, laying my dirtied plate on the stool.

She gave me a look that was clearly meant to tell me to be quiet. "Watchful, I'm a big mare, I know when I get full."

Feeling a little embarrassed that I even asked her that, I turned my head to Candy Cane, who, to my despair, had a pile of pancakes almost as tall as she was on her plate and that wasn't counting the amount of the cheese she somehow had wedged in at the end of her plate. I wasn't exactly joking when I mentioned her eating habits, considering she was on her first plate when Blueberry and I came downstairs and she was currently on her third. I couldn't tell, as she was seated on one of the big chairs like the two adults in the room, but I was sure that her belly was sticking out at the sides. Perhaps it was natural for ponies to be a little pudgy, but this was a bit much.

"Candy Cane, I wouldn't eat like that, or you might look like Blueberry in a few years." I said lightheartedly, bringing out the big guns to try and make the little filly to stop.

Blueberry gave me a utterly murderous look, one that only faded slightly when she heard Candy Cane giggling girlishly. I still noticed that the filly was still somehow balancing her knife and fork in her hooves and carving another bite of pancakes.

"Hey, I'm just stout." Blueberry complained, giving me a little annoyed look. "You minotaur's have it easy, you are all lean and musclebound like griffons. Ponies have to try and look decent from all angles."

I raised a eyebrow. "Really, this is what we are going to talk about right now?"

She had to stifle a stray bit of laughter at that.

"Okay, well, if you ask me, all ponies tend to be on the chubby side unless shown otherwise. Like Nightcore." I said bluntly.

Blueberry gave that some thought. "Okay, so ponies tend to carry a bit of fat on them. So what? And really, Nightcore's not a good example of the average mare. I mean, she's a little, well, well rounded, but I think would that's a healthier weight than most of the one's out in the wasteland." she took a spare moment to take a bite of cheese. "Also, heck, I understand why, with all this good food her marefriend makes, goodness know's I would eat as much as she can." A few moment's later, Blueberry's face turned a bright purple. "I guess it helps...accent her clothing too."

I was doubtful that that was the case; I was more concerned that I was seemingly was missing out on something about ponies wearing small amount of clothing in their homes. Regardless, Candy Cane pointed at the icebox, which was not actually moved from it's old position from the day before, and Blueberry undid the top on the thing and soon she was eagerly guzzling on a soda.

"Anyway," I decided to continue from where the conversation died on Blueberry's end, " I am not sure that your point is really a issue, Blueberry. Like you said, most ponies don't seem to have much extra weight with them, and where I grew up the only one's with any extra meat on their bones where the cows, and, well, if we are really going to go into cross-species standards of what count's as attractive, it fit's them well. All goes to the hips and...stuff."

Blueberry gave a quick glance at Candy Cane, who was demolishing another stack of pancakes, before shrugging slightly and looking at me once again. "What do you mean 'stuff'? Like udder's?" she said a little teasingly so I knew she wasn't being serious.

"No, not really, like," I started to feel a little embarrassed but such was my life, "breasts."

Blueberry gave me a strange look. "Wait, so all those minotaur's with the weird bullet-shaped chests..." Her words trailed off, and, for whatever reason, she raised a hoof and looked at her belly, and then at me, and then, face bright red, started giggling so hard I was afraid she was going to knock her plate off the chair she was sitting on.

I looked at Candy Cane for a moment, who was just staring at me, wide eyed and slightly shocked like I just said something weird or something, and I just sighed and took up another big spoonful of the red berries and put them in my hand.

"Blueberry, what's so funny?" I asked, not understanding what set both of the little ponies on either side of me off into giggling fits."

"Watchful," Blueberry said, "never change. Never, ever, change."

"Fine." I said gruffly, leaning back into the chair, half annoyed and half wanting to join in with the laughing.

A few minutes later, I gave in.

Noon came and passed by quickly, but there really wasn't any way to tell considering how weak the sunlight was anyway. Blueberry located the kitchen and discovered that it had running water, which made her convinced that we were in some sort of time-displaced house and that we were actually in wartime Equestria or something, which was a little hard to disprove, actually, going by the nigh-perfect conditions of nearly everything inside the house. Candy Cane, true to my fears, seemed to have issues getting her stomach off the ground, giving her the appearance of the world's youngest expecting mother, but Blueberry just giggled at my worries and said it will resolve itself quickly.

I still don't know what that means.

To make a long story short, I had to take the far heavier Candy Cane upstairs after she slipped into a food coma of sorts and put her to bed, which might have been a cute moment if she wasn't so heavy; and afterwords I helped Blueberry explore the house.

Well, exploring wasn't the right word. There was only only door that was unlocked on the main floor, and it was pretty clear what was behind it.

"Blueberry, this has to be some sort of new low." I said, pleading slightly. I didn't even like being in the hallway we were in. It had almost no lighting and it was rather small for me, and every time I moved the wood creaked. I hated it.

Blueberry just gave me a wistful, almost plain look. "Look, Watchful, it's the only way to make sure. If they are hiding anything, it's behind this door."

"Blueberry, this is their house, and right behind that door is their bedroom. I doubt this is standard guest protocol."

"Bah, Watchful, you'r no fun. These ponies probably have all the juicy secret's behind the locked doors. We won't even touch anything, just peak around."

I sighed. "What if there's defenses behind that door, Blueberry? Or even something like a recorder. Remember, this is the mare who operated the local radio station by herself." I let that sink in. "And I refuse to touch anything. This completely violates there privacy, Blueberry."

Blueberry's look turned downcast. "Look, I know this isn't right, but we have to make sure."

I was close to pushing open the door, but I stalled. "Blueberry, what if they learn that we even went in here?"

She shrugged. "I guess we deal with that if it comes around. If they have any weapons, I would bet they would be in here anyway."

To try and get this silly, stupid, pointless thing over with, I gently opened the double doors at the end of the hall.

Oh, it looked like the place that would belong to a mare named 'Nightcore', all right.

It was hard to tell if the light was on or not, because the light bulb's that glowed overhead were, for whatever reason, tinted a pale pink, which made the whole room's dark color's even more extreme. The walls were black and velvety, and the floor was the carpeted with the same base material the walls were covered with. The large bed with dark opaque sheets hanging over it was black and probably extremely soft. The ambient temperature in the room was quite a bit warmer than the rest of the house, perhaps because of everything being darker in color or even because of a lack of air-conditioning. To the right of the room was what seemed to be a walk-in closet, while to the left of the bed was a small desk covered in knick-nacks.

"Blueberry, we should just turn back now. See? Nothing here. Nothing strange. Let's go back to our room, it's at least close to dark, Dawn has to be coming back soon." I said glumly.

She just aimlessly stood there, near the center of the room, taking in every bit of it.

"Okay," she said, a little bit of defeat tinging her voice,"you win. They are just two mares, one of which has access to a mass information relay and the other covers every bit of her body, and just live together in this huge house with a seemingly unlimited amount of bits for a food budget."

At that, however, she moves to the left side of the room, seemingly tempted to enter the closet. "But I have to admit, half the stuff in here could pass for raider gear." she said, sounding rightfully embarrassed. "And the other half, er, Watchful, you probably shouldn't look at."

I snorted dismissively at her antics before I spotted what seemed to be a black (of course) refrigerator set into the wall near the bed, one that I only noticed because of how it reflected the light. Opening it, there was just a single item, a dark bottle with a white label. Taking it out of it very carefully, as to not stir up it's contents, I turned to Blueberry and motioned to the bottle with my free hand.

"Hey Blueberry, what's Horshy Syrup?"

Blueberry gave me one of the most purely startled looks she has ever given me, and started to crack up.

"W-watchful, let's just leave now. I understand it now; we have found the most perfect couple in all of the Wasteland. They are rich, intelligent, personally skilled, and, most importantly...!"

She paused to let out a high-pitched bout of laughter that made me wonder if she had simply gone mad.

"...Okay, you won, they're harmless, let's just go to bed." she finally finished, almost sounding tired from just how much she was laughing.

Putting the syrup in it's rightful place in the wall, I waved Blueberry off. "Give me a moment, there's just one last thing I want to check first."

Blueberry tilted her head in confusion. "What, I thought I just told you, you were right."

I nodded. "I just want to check that dresser. I will be up in a few moment's, don't worry."

Blueberry's smile turned into a forced upturning of the lips that mimicked a smile all but in nature. "Okay, just don't spend to much time obsessing over it. I'm going to check on Candy Cane."

With that, she was out of the room, a little displeased, I made my way to the desk to the left of the bed. Really, it was a mess, a few books here and there, a few scattered news clippings about a pony named "Savage Love", some jewelry that I had no intention on touching, a spare candle here and there, things I would have expected to see on a desk. There was also, to my mild surprise, a record player haphazardly placed on the end of the desk, and, with simple curiosity, I flipped the manual switch and put the needle on it.

I hate a moral coward, one who lacks a marely spark
I just detest a mare afraid to go home in the dark
I always spend my evening where there's stallions, wine, and song
but like a mare, I always bring my little wife along!

Even if the singer was clearly male and the record was old and in poor condition, it was a rather amusing little song that wasn't too loud, so I left it on as I looked over the rest of the things on the desk. It all seemed to be a few things that would very much be noticed if I so much as touched them.

However, my eyes did spot three small things on the desk that attracted my attention; a trio of small pictures, each only a few inch's wide. Humming the tune of the song, I picked up the one closest to me and held it up close to the light.

It was clearly a very old photo, nearly entirely grey, but I did make out what it depicted. It was a foal dressed up in something extremely frilly and probably extremely expensive if the gems on the dress was any indication. I couldn't make out any real details of the pony in the picture itself, only that her light colored hair was curled into thick ringlets.

The next photo was far more clear in what it showed but that just made it that more shocking. Indeed, I was glad Blueberry didn't go near it, for it was a photo of Nightcore and a unclothed Golden Dawn sitting on a beach, doing that odd neck snuggle thing ponies did. Indeed, it seemed to be a picture of them of them kissing, but to a casual observer it would have been hard to tell because of Golden Dawns...mouth parts. I half wondered who the photographer for this picture was, and if he was drunk enough to take the picture without looking away from it.

Quickly putting it down right where I picked it up, I took up the final one and looked at it carefully. Then I blinked, thought I was seeing things, and looked over it again. Nightcore was in the center of it, in some sort of large unadorned room, slightly younger and perhaps a little thinner than she was currently. However, what got my attention was the bored looking mare to her left, who was immortalized on the greyish print as forever rolling her eyes and raising a hoof at the camera in some sort of defiant manner.

The mare was dark of coat, a unicorn, and had a trio of flaming fleshless heads on her rump.

I stared at the photo, quickly understanding that I knew the pony on it, and I didn't like her at all.

Nightcore knew Charnel well enough to have a photo of the two of them next to one of a precious moment with her marefriend and what might have been a relic of her childhood. When I recalled that Dawn did mention Nightcore's cousin coming over earlier, along with something about a trip into Tauronto, I suddenly felt very stupid.

"This is proof that someone down there hates me." I muttered to myself after carefully placing the picture back where they originally rested. At that moment, the cheerful music decided to finish with it's song, ending with a screetch.

Seeing that as a sort of cosmic "get out" sign sent to me by something I wasn't about to question, because I was in a place I wasn't supposed to be, I quickly made out of the room and, as efficiently as possible, headed for the second floor, where true safety awaited me in the form of a blue unicorn and a sleeping foal.

At least, that's what I expected.

Yes, Blueberry was asleep and so was Candy Cane, presumably. but my priorities shifted as soon as I spotted a very unexpected guest waiting for me.

It was hanging down from the ceiling from it's tail, leathery wings curled up around it like a blanket and teeth bared in a smile.

"Hey, wassup man?" the bat pony said in the most casual tone possible when one was hanging upside down in the middle of your room uninvited.

The Title of The Story

I woke up face-first in a pillow, covered with a thin sheet, hungry and cold. Yawning, I kicked my legs as I shifted around, my brain slowly processing that I was on a small mattress, probably on a floor going by the resistance it was giving me, and that the room I was in was cold.

I was tempted to just not move at all and go try and go back to sleep, actually, simply because I didn't feel like getting up and facing the reality of my situation. I didn't really remember what made me pass out, only that my head started to hurt really bad and my thoughts were clouded and hazy by the time I had done so. My neck felt like it was bruised all over, and I almost cried out when I lifted my head because of the pain.

Reflexively, I clenched my teeth in preparation for the initial wave of pain that would be coming from my horn any minute now, which never came. Letting it flicker on and off quickly, I realized that, to my joy, that my head felt clear and clean and utterly free from any pain,

I felt a wave of uncertainty bubble up from deep inside me when I recalled what had to have happened a few hours ago. I remembered walking inside a little building, and then things got weird. Really weird. I had to be seeing things by the time I felt those weird long things on my neck, and I had to be hearing voices. The more I tried to think of what just happened, the more it seemed less of a memory and more of a dream. I really didn't see a mare with eyes on her legs, right? I didn't feel something like a leathery claw stroke my back, right? I didn't see a thin thing stare at me, right?

No, I had to get up, face what happened, and do what needed to be done.

And so I did, throwing back the blanket covering me and looking around.

The walls of the room I was in were still the same boarded wood paneling that, for whatever reason, I remembered the building having and the floor was bare of carpeting, but the only other object in the room besides the mattress I was sleeping on was a small table off in the corner with a hot place with a large red bowl on it that had something in it that smelled fantastic. I noticed a door behind me that was halfway open, but my main concern was the fact that there was food and I was hungry.

Quickly scrambling to my hooves without further thought, I made my way over to the table, small enough that I could see over it without a chair, and glanced at the contents of the bowl. It looked cheesy, bright yellow with red tomato slices half-sunk into it, smelling rich and, well, homemade, but I felt a bit unnerved that Golden Dawn probably made this for me. Giving it thought for a few moments, I figured that, just because the pony who made it had eyes on her legs, it didn't mean that food wasn't food and should be wasted.

I almost lifted the ladle-like spoon next to the bowl of cheesy goodness before I noticed that, on the floor a little way's under the desk, hidden by the table-leg, was a purple bottle and a note attached to it. Lifting the bottle off the floor and setting it next to the bowl, I levitated the piece of paper closely to my head and started to read the neatly printed message that it declared with teal-colored ink.

Extremely sorry about the wine yesterday, I did not know it had gone sour. Please drink as much as the healing potion as you can.

G.D

I turned to look at the bottle in my magic, slightly skeptical. I knew healing potions were supposed to be darker in color the stronger they were, but this one was a dark, rich purple, bordering on black, darker than any other healing potion I had ever seen. Twisting the lid of the bottle off, I thought about drinking it, not exactly ready to just go ahead and drink it. My neck hurt a little, but I didn't feel that bad and I wasn't so sure if I should go ahead and trust her now. She seemed nice, and she probably didn't mean to be rude. Even if she was a freaky mutant pony, she was a nice freaky mutant pony who was letting me stay in her home and eat her food.

Opening the cap to the bottle, I took a sniff just to make sure that it was, in fact, a healing potion. They had a certain smell, one that wasn't really easy to describe but was easily recognizable to anypony who have had one before, and this one was one. I didn't feel that I was being suspicious; after all, given the fact I was in a room I had never been in before in a unfamiliar place, a certain level of caution is healthy.

Pausing for a few moments, I put the spoon down, hunger quickly being replaced by an sickly feeling. I was trying to avoid the issues here! I had no idea where I was or what I was doing! I didn't know what happened that made me end up here! Here I was, about to eat a heavy meal right after waking up, without even checking to see where I even was! I didn't even have a weapon with me or a way to get one! I'm...I'm....

"I'm stupid." I croaked out, turning over to the door, desperately ignoring the generous, tasty, wonderful mental distraction a few feet away from me to make myself feel like I was in control of my life.

Which I wasn't.

The building I was in was cold, but clean, that much I realized after I made my way up the staircase that was directly in front of the room I was in. Said staircase led me to a hallway, half-lit and lined with many more doors, all locked. But I knew the general sounds machinery made, and I could only guess the at the things behind the doors. Presumably, it was equipment that helped run the radio station, but that was just a educated guess.

The hallway led to a single chamber, something between a office and a war room. A large mahogany desk was in a corner, covered in paperwork and other things that were probably useless, and scattered around the room were stuff that I would associate with survival: stacks and stacks of canned goods and bottled water, sealed and unopened. There was even a Pipbuck just laying off to the side, to my shock and indignation, in decent shape and next to other small mechanical objects.

Was it that Nightcore is a Stable-pony? She seemed to fit the bill, really. Clean, apparently very educated, and with the wish to isolate herself from the rest of the world as much as possible. Then again, I thought, if a pony was educated at all, they would want to isolate themselves from the rest of the world.

Letting myself laugh a little, I took my time looking around. Going by the soft light coming through the single window near the front of the building, it was very early in the morning, early enough that I could have been justified if I went back to bed. There were three other doors, all closed and seemingly locked up, so I didn't see a reason to prod around them further. A cooler next to the desk was filled with packets of Rad-Away and Med-X. And if my eye's were not deceiving me, behind the desk, half-hidden behind what had to be thousands of multi-colored pins was a...map of Equestria?

Blinking, I turned and made my way behind the desk, quite surprised at what I was seeing. Now, it wasn't like maps were not uncommon, it was that they tended to be smaller and focused on certain cities and regional areas. Even then, they tended to be damaged or at the very least out of date; hardly helped to know what Manehatten looked like two hundred years ago before the bridges were down and buildings had collapsed, after all. But I knew for a fact that maps like the one that was pinned up on the wall was all but priceless in it's own way.

Even with it's colors faded and covered with little needles and markings, what it showed was clear: the locations of Stables. All of them, apparently, going by the little "Stable-Tech" logo half hidden in the upper right corner, and a few that probably were not officially made by them but were probably made by them anyway if the little markings on a few that didn't have a number listing was anything to go by. The exact locations were given as Global Pegasus Service numbers, and beside each little blue dot on the map was a number and a date, presumably one that signified its assigned number and the date of completion.

I marveled over what I was seeing. This almost had to be one of a kind. Hell, if there was a pony who would know that, I would be it, considering I lived in the Stable-Tech HQ for more than a year and was one of the ponies who first had to move in there and explore it. This must have been smuggled out of it or something before the war, because it was sealed tighter than a drum before we took control of it.

Besides the blue dots, I noticed larger, red ones mixed in with them, harder to see because of the faded colors. No numbers or dates accompanied them, but when I looked up and saw that, in the upper right corner of the map, several small strings were propped up with larger pins, making a web around the general area of Manehatten. Besides the thick bunch of strings centered around the city, there was singular strings that came out of the mass that ended near other major cities; everywhere from Maripony to Fillydelphia to Hoofington and more.

Looking up as far as I could, near the very top of the map, a short string connected Manehatten to a single red dot circled with purple marker, within Caldonia and just next to Tauronto.

"Good morning." A tired, almost pitiable voice said behind me, "Find any of my stuff neat?"

I stopped myself from yelping in surprise and turned around, putting on a brave face. Nightcore was walking out one of the rooms that I assumed to be locked tight, mane messy and generally looking like a wreck. That wasn't to say she wasn't pretty, no, she was one of those lucky ones who looked like one of those mares you could find in the sort of magazines one didn't let foals get to, but she was probably not a morning person, if the sluggish way she was moving was anything to go by.

"Sorry about snooping around, I mean, I really am sorry for-"

I was cut off by a lazy wave of her hoof. "No, it's alright. I understand, your curious and want to know where you are." she paused for a moment, scratching the back of her head as she did. "You drink coffee?"

"Never had it." I said honestly. It was too expensive, and what cans were left seemed to be in the hooves of those that could afford it. "But thank you for offering."

She slowly blinked at me, and started to move towards one of the many piles of stuff around the room and pulled out a small shiny-red bag out from at least five others, shaking it a little to get the dust off, and started walking to me. This made me think. Ponies moved in certain ways, really. Some moved fluidly, like they could break out in song and dance at any time. Some moved ruggedly, in jerking, powerful motions that showed that they had power in there limbs. Some moved fast, jumping from hoof to hoof with every step in a attempt to get somewhere else.

Nightcore didn't move like that. She didn't move like a pony who had a stranger standing a few feet away from her. It was all smooth, uncaring motions, little effort involved at all. Not a single bit of edge to her walk, no guard raised or anything. She didn't move like a pony.

"You want to try it?" she said, yawning slightly as she started to make her way to me, "It's good. Helps you wake up."

She paused, giving a quick look to the the window. "Do you feel okay?"

There was something not quite like apathy underlying her tone, something that made me feel unnerved.

"I would love some, yes. And I do feel okay,actually. My neck hurts a little, though."

"Okay, okay. Hey, I know you have a lot of questions, but so do I. Mind if I just get a pot started?" she yawned as she turned around, giving me a odd toothy smile that somehow didn't look intimidating. "You've eaten already, right?"

I had to look up at her because of how close she was now. "No, I just got up. I just needed to know where I am after something like...that."

Nightcore dropped her smile, but her carefree tone didn't change. "That's understandable. Make yourself comfy while I make a pot." she looked at my puzzled expression for a few seconds and quickly clarified. "A pot of coffee. You make it in a coffee pot."

"Oh." I knew almost nothing about the stuff, but, in hopes of getting a conversation going, tried to scrounge up what I knew about coffee. "Didn't coffee come from zebra lands, before the war?"

At first I thought I said something wrong, because Nightcore stiffened up sightly, like I said something rather shocking. But after a few moments, all the tenseness left her body and she gave me self-indulging smile.

"Yeah, actually it did. Probably does still in some lucky places, anyway. But all the stuff I have came from Saddle Arabia. This places was stocked with the stuff when I came here. I think ponies imported it from there to not have to pay premiums for the stuff. Tastes the same, though."

"What's Saddle Arabia?" I asked as she started to make her way to a table that had a small device that seemed to be made of glass and plastic.

"Oh, it was a country across the sea, near the griffon's homeland I think." Nightcore said as she opened a hinge on the top of the object and started to pour what I could only assume to be coffee into it, "Pretty sure it run by horses."

I hoped I misheard that. "I don't think that's a nice thing to say about ponies that lived a long time ago." I said a nicely as possible.

Nightcore looked up at me, blinked once, and chuckled. "Horses, not whorses. Like, actual horses."

Huh. "Never knew that."

Nightcore was a chatty mare, I was starting to learn, as she kept talking even as she uncapped a bottle of water and started to empty it into what I could only assume was a coffee maker. "It's funny how things like that end up, isn't it? They were interesting, too. They lived in the desert, really far away from Equestria, so they never saw Celestia as a goddess. In fact, they saw Luna as the nicer sister, because all they knew about Celestia was that she controlled the sun." She stopped for a moment, letting the hinge on the coffee maker shut with a small click. "They never were on Equestria's good side, really. They only really warmed up with Equestria when Luna took control of it."

I was slightly lost about what she was getting at, but I nodded. "I could understand why, really. If they were not ponies, then they would probably be scared of them, being goddesses after all."

Nightcore gave me the oddest look, but shrugged her shoulders and started making her way to the desk. "Yeah, I guess they would. Actually, I would be scared of them if they were in Equestria, They would probably do great in the wasteland, and they probably wouldn't be nice."

I shrugged my shoulders, not seeing where she was going with this. "Why's that?"

"Well, they were bigger than ponies, and usually faster too. They also had slaves, even back then, before the war, usually camels and donkey's but also the unlucky earth pony. The stallions kept as many wives as they could, and fillies were often married off when the parents could get away with it. Big families were expected, you see, and as soon as a mare got old enough..."

She shuddered slightly. "They didn't like magic, or cutie marks. Unicorns and pegusi never went over there if they could, but some made it over there anyway because the government offered incentives for them. Usually, anyway. Occasionally there was stories about 'earth ponies' with strange scars, but nopony did anything about it because Saddle Arabia had oil that wasn't connected to the zebras."

This wasn't my typical morning conversation fair, of course, but I didn't feel especially sickened by what I was hearing. After all, they were probably all dead and gone, right? Why talk about something so old and useless? She talked about it like it was a pressing issue, even when they were probably all dead and gone.

But I didn't say that.

"You seem to know a lot about them. How do you know so much about pre-war times?" I said evenly, trying to get some information out of her that could be useful to understanding the mare in front of me.

She hummed slightly as she made her way over to the desk, looking at the map. "I have plenty of spare time to read, actually. The ponies who lived here before me had a lot of books lying around here, probably because a radio station is boring when it's working. Bunch of history buffs."

I moved away from behind the desk, nodding as a response. "It must get boring, up here."

She smiled widely, seemingly amused at me. "No, not really, I just like reading when I can. I see you noticed the map."

I was a little taken aback by how casual she was about it. "It's interesting. Where did you find this?"

She shrugged once, and than again when she saw the look on my face. "I bought it from a scavenger a long time ago. He couldn't read, but I knew what it was, so I only had to pay him two caps for it. Don't know where he got it, but it's interesting, isn't it? A map of all the stables and radio towers in Equestria and it's border nations."

I heard some noises coming from the coffee maker, loud enough to make me pause before answering back, but after a few moments I nodded.

"I heard that radio announcement. What made you so upset?"

Her eyes widened for a moment, and at first I wondered if she was going to yell at me.

But she didn't. She just kept that lazy, natural self-satisfied grin on her face.

"I hate Tauronto." she said simply, with no little amount of genuine loathing, "And I hope it burns down to the ground. Apparently, five members of the Purebreds were holding a meeting with several of there associates about opening up another slaver station down south so they can tap into Red Eye's markets."

"What." I said, angry and ashamed. I was almost one of them, just by a hair. You had to pay a large flat caps fee to get in, just to make sure you had the ability to access every bit of the services they provided. I didn't have the caps, and the last thing I remembered about Tauronto was being in a hotel room on the outskirts of the city. Next thing I remembered, I was in a caravan heading south. All in all, I felt filthy inside, knowing that I could have joined a bunch of slavers.

Nightcore looked at me and nodded, seemingly taking my darkened look for anger at the slavery itself.

"I know, it's horrid. But the thing is, they can't do anything about it. Hell, I should know, I'm a member." she said.

I must have still looked angry, because she suddenly looked panicked. "Hey, hey, don't...do you even know much about the Purebreds?"

"They're Unicorn extremists, right?" I said, a little annoyed at the mare's tone.

She gave me a odd, almost embarrassed look. "It's a bit more complicated than that, actually. You..." she tilted her head to the side,"you want know what they are, really?"

I huffed, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew she had a point. I guess I didn't know as much as I would like to think I did. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew almost nothing about them. All my memories about Tauronto were fleeting and hazy, and sometimes I wondered if they were real.

"I guess I don't. But I don't..."

I stopped talking when I realized I was being bitchy.

"...I'm sorry if I'm being rude. I am being rude, arn't I?" I said, knowing that I probably sounded timid and pathetic.

Nightcore stood there for a few moments, looking at me like I was a live grenade. Finally, after what felt like a hour, she shook her head and lowered her shoulders in a attempt to look reasonable.

"No, no your not. You don't have a reason to be in a good mood." she said slowly, voice softer than I expected. "It's okay, I understand."

"No you don't." I mumbled.

She didn't look at me with fear or even pity. Just concern.

"The coffee's done. Do you want a cup? It will help you feel better." she said, getting up out from behind the desk, most of the papers on it now in neat piles.

"I guess." I said half-heartedly. "You are all really nice ponies, you know that?"

She didn't laugh, actually, but the small smile on her lips as she made her way over to the coffeemaker was telling.

"Really, that's very nice for you to say that. But really, I haven't been a good host, honestly." I watched her as she took out two large cups and started to fill them accordingly. "I'v been cooped up in here for the last two days. Dawn is just worried that you are still weary from traveling."

I almost laughed. "Oh, Goddesses, she doesn't, really? These last few days have been some of the most comfortable in my life. I feel like I'm stealing from you two. This might be one of the nicest places I have ever been in my life, and I would like to think I have traveled a bit."

She raised an eyebrow as she made the two cups land gently on the desk, one set closer to the end than the other, without spilling a drop. "You have? I have to admit, I have to ask; where are you from? Also, cream or sugar?"

I was confused for a moment, but she quickly clarified. "For the coffee."

"However you take it."

I heard somepony say that, once. It sounded dignified and polite, anyway.

Nightcore grinned the same big, wide grin I was starting to associate with her. "Two sugars and a cream it is, then."

Several small packets and a set of spoons appeared from some unseen drawer near her, and in a flurry of movement the two formerly pitch black contents of the cup became light brown.

"Thank you." I said, putting a hoof around the handle earth-pony style for the sake of appearance, "And it's a long story, really."

I thought for a moment, wondering if she would accept the truth without fuss. She seemed to be a accepting individual.

"I used to be a Steel Ranger."

She blinked in response. And again. After a few moments of wide-eyed staring, she sipped her coffee.

"Huh."

Well, that went over better than I expected.

"I was actually a little worried to admit it, because of how you talked about them on the radio." I said, finally giving in and drinking the coffee. It was different, really, I wasn't one for hot drinks but it tasted good, if a little bitter."I also heard another pony talk about how the Reavers hated them."

"Don't listen to anypony who trusts the Reavers, they're just proof that even oppressed minorities can still be assholes." Nightcore said, shrugging lightly. "And as far as I know, there are no more Rangers left here, they all either went to Manehatten or Dise. I don't think there were any in Tauronto since I have been here, honestly."

I was startled. "But I thought you said you considered them a cult?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't have anything against the Rangers. You are the first one I have met, actually. I wasn't in a good mood when I recorded that, anyway, and most of the ponies in Tauronto don't agree with me. The Reavers have a bounty for them, you know."

I nodded my head. She returned it sympathetically.

"Anyway, I just want to say thank you for this." I said, hoping I wasn't sounding like a broken record. "This really is kind of you. Also, please tell Golden Dawn she is the best cook I have ever met, would you?"

Nightcore chuckled. "She actually told me earlier that you told her that. She doesn't get many compliments, and she usually doesn't take them well. It's usually just the two of us, and we have long passed the point where we constantly say how thankful we are for each other, but she is a good cook, but she doesn't like to think that she is. We've had discussions about it, really. She had only a few books when she was younger, and one of her favorites was a cook book written by some pony from before the war named Steward. I think half the recipes involved butter and the other half was butter."

I giggled. "Candy Cane actually asked me if Dawn was fattening her up so she could eat her." I paused, mainly for dramatic effect. "I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I said I didn't know. Is that so wrong?"

At that, Nightcore erupted into a fit of choked laughter, only half-done with finishing a sip of coffee and clearly not expecting the punchline.

"Oh...oh...hee." she said, a little out of breath and red-faced. "That's adorable. The little filly did eat a lot, though..." she paused, as if she was going to say something she wanted to say for a long time, but was conflicted about doing so. "Dawn does make a lot of food, but we tend to freeze leftovers when we can. There's been a nice boom in the amount of crops for sale,so we've been eating well because of it. Well, me anyway." she said plainly, prodding her tummy for the sake of showing what she meant. "Dawn never eats what she makes, though."

I could only wonder what that implied, and shrugged. "It couldn't be because of the taste, right?"

It seemed that I was trudging on a topic that was a little sensitive to her, and the slight crease on her face showed that.

Nightcore looked at me like she was debating to say something incriminating. "Well, you know she's not a...normal pony, right?"

I nodded, but I really just wanted to jump up on the desk and yell the word 'yes!' in her face, which I didn't do, as one of my hooves was occupied holding a cup of coffee.

"She can't taste things, really." she said slowly, "She only ate fish and seaweed for most of her life, and she can taste those easily. But other than that, she can only identify sweet things. Regular coffee is just hot water for her. It's hard to get fish to keep this far inland without spoiling, and besides that, I don't eat any meat, so even when I try, I couldn't get her just to buy fish for herself." She paused, her eye's shutting as if she was in pain. "She is really, really embarrassed about the wine."

I felt a twinge of pity for the mare, if that's the right term for her. "It's not a problem."

She shook her head. "No, it is. She's...she's been a little weary of you since you have arrived, you know?"

I forrowed my brow. "Really, why?"

I took a sip of the coffee, starting to understand why this costed so much.

She shuddered. "Well, first of all, she thought Ever Watchful was going to rob us."

I tilted my head. "Huh?"

Nightcore looked at me like I was crazy. "Well, he is a minotaur. I mean, it sounds bad," she sounded a little disgusted at herself, even, "but it's true. It's like finding a Hellhound on your doorstep. What do you expect?"

I didn't like her tone, but I shook my head. "He's not like that. I mean, he can fight, but he's nice."

Nightcore nodded back. "Oh, yeah, I know. He cleaned this place up since you've been..."

I didn't want to touch on that just yet, and by the mortified look on her face she didn't want to either.

Coughing lightly, I nodded and forced a smile. "He did? Yeah, he's nice like that. Now, weren't we talking about Dawn?"

She looked grateful at me for changing the subject. "Yes. But really, there's not much more to say." After a few moments, however, she gave me a pained look. "She's not really in a good mood. Well, really, she's worried sick about everything."

"Does it have to do with me?" I replied slowly, hoping that it wasn't the case.

I could have sworn that she looked so depressed that her mane was starting to deflate. "Well, kind of. But...do you really want to hear about it? It's...relation-shippy." she said, sounding a little embarrassed. "I don't know if you want to hear it, really."

I took another swig of coffee. "Go ahead, I mean, I am eating your food and drinking your coffee, so I might as well learn what damage I am doing to my hosts."

It seemed to take a moment for Nightcore to get the joke, and after a few sparse chuckles she started talking again.

"Well, she's been worried sick about going into Tauronto, and did not want me to go to it anyway because of the trouble there. Then you arrived, and according to her, for a few moments, she thought she was letting two slavers and their captive come into our home and eat our food, and that the comment you made about her being a slave made her feel really scared."

I couldn't look her in eyes when she said that.

"Basically, she went from thinking that you two were a bunch of slavers who had a filly around as bait to lure me out to thinking that you thought of us as a pair of freaky mares who live alone who walk around wearing 'provocative clothing' in a few minutes." She smirked. "You did, didn't you?"

I took a swift drink. "I did, sorry for that."

"She was also embarrassed that I came downstairs wearing lingerie, if that means anything."

I couldn't help but blush a little.

She waved a hoof dismissively at my flustered look. "Oh, don't bother, it's okay. Now anyway, she wanted to make up to you, so she decided to share a bit of wine with you to relax. And then she thought you were being rude, at least until I tasted the wine and told her it had deteriorated, and then she started to think that she was coming across as being rude and that you were trying to be a good guest. And then you had that...episode, and she thought she triggered it."

I didn't want to talk about what happened yesterday. Going by her own look, she didn't want to, either. We each took our time drinking, the both of us having a good excuse to not carry on the currant topic.

"So, I have to ask, who's this 'Dive Bomb' pony, and why would Dawn still think we were bad ponies even when we mentioned his name." I paused, frowning. "And why would she lie about your name?"

Nightcore shrugged. "Dive Bomb is a fairweather friend of the Purebred, and he's a friend, but plenty of ponies know that and she wasn't sure if you were legit. I try and keep as low as possible, too, so if a pony doesn't know I'm here, that's a good thing. A lot of wastelander's don't like me."

I was confused by that last part, really. "Why?"

Her expression took a downturn past Sullen Street to somewhere near Unhappy Highway.

"I try and take a neutral stance in what happens in Tauronto, but sometimes it's hard, and even then I don't even think I had a regular listener. The ghouls didn't like that I down talked the Reavers, the Pure didn't like that one of their members was taking cracks at them when she could, the Scions don't like radio, period, and everypony else just thought I was a biased mare sitting around in some cushy place all day and doing nothing but doing commentary about what's going on."

She sounded like she was going to say 'and they are right', but she surprised me and just let out a heavy sigh.

"I mean, I thought I was doing something good, right? Until I got wind that somepony figured out that I was paying off ponies in the city to tell me what was going on in it." she sighed. "Then some ponies thought I was being payed to not say anything bad about the Reavers. And then the Pure, and so on and so on."

"Were you?"

She sighed. "It's complicated. I can only do this because I'm technically one of the ponies in the top-tier ranks of the Pure, and it's only because of that I have ponies occasionally radio in reports about what they've heard of. But I don't get in trouble, really, because the Purebred are too busy right now for anypony to be bothered with actually stopping me from making broadcasts."

"Really? What's with them, anyway?" I said, trying to not look too interested. This was a topic I was shifty on, and I needed some confirmation about what I was doing for the six months I was in Tauronto.

Nightcore gave me a exasperated look. "You really want to know? It's a stupidly complex and silly system."

I thought about it for a few moments. I had so many questions. What was the Purebreds deal? What the hell was a Balefire Dragon? What was Dawn? What were these Scions she kept mentioning?

But then I realized I had been trying to avoid the real issue here.

Me.

"No, I don't, really. Do you know what happened to me yesterday?"

Nightcore suddenly looked unnerved.

"Yes." she said, like it was a especially evil curse, "I do. Give me a moment."

Nightcore's horn lit up, and two objects hovered up from under the desk and landed on the table.

The first one was a book that looked like it could be used to brain a pony. It's spine was cracked, it's paper was yellowed, and it's binding looked like it was dry-rotted, but what really got my attention was that it looked like it was written in some weird wiggly language.

The other object was mine. It's gem was bright red.

I hissed in anger. "He gave it to you?!"

How dare he betray my trust! I thought this was a secret! A important secret! This was one of the reasons I trusted him, and now he's handed it off like it was nothing!

"How did you get this, Blueberry?" Nightcore said, tone even.

The fact she was so blase about it was bad enough, but then she started to move it away from me, letting it hover in the air out of my reach.

"My mother gave it to me! Give it back!" I growled, prepared to jump up on the desk and take what was rightfully mine. And it was mine!

I put my coffee cup down on the floor, just in case. It was starting to taste cold, anyway.

"Where did she get this?" she replied calmly.

"A Ministry building in the heart of the city! She said that it was...why do you care, it's mine and give it to me!"

"Blueberry, this is a Alicorn Amulet." she said, a little edge in her voice.

That word. Alicorn. Another word for the Goddesses.

That's where I knew it from.

"You...it has a name?" I said, feeling stupid and foalish.

"It does." she replied curtly. "Here."

The book opened up as it was enveloped in a haze of pink, and after a few moments it stopped at a section where a crude sketch of something that looked like it. There was a dark red spot in the paper where the jewel was, and I half-wondered if it was actually paint.

"Now, I have seen things like this before, but they weren't the genuine Amulets," Nightcore spoke as I started at the picture. "They used to be gag-gifts among academics, enchanted so they did strange stuff with a unicorn's eyes and horns. Great party favors. But this," she pointed a hoof at my Amulet beside her, "this I don't know."

"So what if it's real?" I mumbled as I looked over the image. There was no way it was bad. It wasn't possible, was it?

....

It was, wasn't it?

"Now, the book you have in your hooves claim that all the real Alicorn Amulets were destroyed many years ago, but that's not true. A few popped up in pre-war times, too, but always in private collections and stuff. They were supposed to be destroyed, though."

"What does that even mean?" I said helplessly. "What does that mean?"

Nightcore for the first time, gave me a truly fearful look. "I don't know. Even when this old thing was written," she said, tapping the elderly book gently with a forehoof," unicorns who found them were quickly captured and separated from it. Apparently, the longer they held it, the more powerful and dependent on the Amulet they become. When they became enraged, the Amulet grew more powerful, and one's mind breaks under it's control. It taps into the spot where your horn connects to your skull and..."

A horrible pause came over her.

"If your mom really gave this to you...that long ago, I don't know what to do that could help. I don't. I don't think there's anything written about something like this." she stopped for a moment before letting my Amulet land on the table softly. "Do you wear it often?"

I shook my head. "Only when I feel really bad about myself. I think the last time I wore it was about two weeks ago. Ever Watchful..."

"-also said something about you knowing invisibility spells and spells that can summon chains. Is that true?" Nightcore interrupted me.

I shook my head. "I just know some basic spells, like making mage-lights and stuff."

Nightcore slumped in her chair. "Do you think he would lie about something like this?"

I felt myself wanting to slap that horrid, doubting look off her face, right up until she let out a weary sigh.

"No, he wouldn't. But...I don't know what to think. You seem to know more about it than I do."

She nodded slowly. "I guess. I can only suggest that you...you should keep it on you at all times, but you shouldn't wear it unless you need too. Don't use too much magic and try and control your emotions."

I felt a headache, a normal one this time, build up in my head. I squinted at my cup of coffee. "That would be hard, I think. Like, right now, I want to touch it."

Nightcore gave me a look that wasn't so much as fearful as it was upset, like I had said something objectively bad, like 'Slaving isn't evil!' or something.

"It's yours, I don't know if you should, though. Everything I have about it pretty much says that the longer you touch it, the harder it is to get rid of. It's like a drug."

I was filled with a loathing for the mare in front of me. How dare she compare one of the few things in my life that was important to me to a drug?! A drug!

"No, it's not. I used to have a Mint-al kick. Used to help a lot."

Nightcore's face went whiter then her coat, somehow."Wait, you're an addict?"

I almost laughed in her face. "Used to. Does it surprise you, really? I needed to be on my top shape to work with the other Scribes, and it helped me concentrate and get stuff done. I got detoxed a long time ago, even though it distracted me from...the Amulet."

The word felt like it shouldn't have come out of my mouth, and Nightcore just looked at me, a little surprised.

"You do know that Mint-al withdrawal is pretty much a combination of poor judgement and headaches, right?" she said haughtily.

"Do you think I'm stupid? Of course I know, but I didn't care because ponies didn't complain when I was on it, only when I was wearing the Amulet!"

She looked a little taken aback, and for a moment her eye's turned to the big book laying between us, as if it had all the answers she needed.

"Well, if you think they help, I would suggest you start taking them again." she said, like she was trying to distance herself from what she was saying. "Anything to curb the usage of the Amulet to a minimum."

"You are...you're telling me that I should try drugs." I said flatly.

Nightcore bit her upper lip.

"Anything that could stop you from having a incident like the one that happened yesterday from occurring again is worth a try."

I felt a little cold shiver start in my hooves and worth there way up my spine. "What did you see?"

She closed her eyes and breathed out. "You looked like hell. Your eyes were bloodshot and you were moving like...a zombie or something. You looked out of it. Badly. Your horn was sparking red, but Ever Watchful told me that your magic's blue."

I frowned. "It is. He's told me that before."

As such, for show, I tried and raise the book, stopping immediately when I saw it engulfed in dark purple.

"Its...it's supposed to, anyway." I said, too shocked to say anything else.

"The Amulet does that as well, actually. The corruption goes deep." she replied tonelessly.

I shuddered. She was right. Only a few things were unchanging in the world, but one of those things was a unicorns magic. It was unique to every unicorn, really. You could line up a entire village of unicorns and every single one would have a different color of magic, if only by shades and hues. It was something that never changed.

And here, here was a shining example about how nothing really was sacred in the world.

"I don't know what to do." I said suddenly, feeling like I had to say everything on my mind or I would simply snap, "I never thought...I can't get rid of it. It's all I have to remember my life besides my gun, and I don't want to get rid of it."

"I agree." Nightcore agreed, "It's too ingrained in your body now. There's nothing written about it, and if what you are saying is true, what happened yesterday happened because of you not using it enough. I..." she looked down, "...I don't like saying this, but I don't think I can help you. I don't think anypony can help you."

I was about to say something along the lines of 'but you've helped me more than anypony has before', but then she kept talking. "I really am sorry. I mean, I am. Er, wait!" she blurted suddenly, as if I was about to leave. "I have this book, somewhere..."

She took a moment to shift through the piles of papers on the desk, and after a few moments she pulled a moderate-sized brown book with a blue cover out of it.

"Here," she said, a little hopeful, "this might help."

A little doubtful, I pulled the book closer and read the title. I swore I had seen the author's name before, but I wasn't sure where I had seen it.

Taking Life By The Horns: The Iron Will Story

"It's a self help book." Nightcore conformed my initial thoughts, "But it's different. I'v skimmed through it a bit. It's nice. It might give you some ideas about what to do."

A tense quiet filled the room.

"Is there any place in Tauronto that keeps permanent housing?" I asked, breaking the quiet.

"There's a old roadside hotel that got converted into a Purebred base, and they do that. It's decent if you have the caps." she said absent-mindedly. "It's close, actually, a day on hooves."

"Thanks." I said, getting up from my spot on the floor, coffee cold and not feeling especially hungry. "I'm going to get Ever Watchful and see if we can't be on our way soon."

"You don't have to do that." she said, almost pleadingly. "It's not safe in Tauronto, really."

"I can handle myself, and Ever Watchful can as well." I stopped for a moment, thinking about what I had just said. "You wouldn't be able to take care of Candy Cane, would you?"

She tensed up suddenly. "There's a orphanage in Tauronto."

I felt myself get angry. Not just at the mare who was sitting behind a desk in front of me, trying to pretend the world never ended and surrounded by mechanical wonders of pre-war technology, telling me she couldn't take care of a child.

"Would it be such a burden to you to do it!" I snapped, taking a step forward, "Would it!"

She reared up, putting both hooves on the desk and she propped herself up on it. "How dare you tell me to take on another burden! I have a marefriend who cannot go outside without getting lynched and a small army of ponies who would like to see me dead! I want to help ponies like you, but you know what? None of you are worth a damn! You are all selfish, miserable foals who wallow in their own self pity and can't do anything about it because they can't accomplish anything without scrounging up stuff from a better time, and even then you just misuse it! I don't care if your a Steel Ranger or not, you are doing nothing to help the world!"

Still angry, she looked at the Amulet still on her desk, glared at it, and tossed it off with a hoof. Then one of her hooves went for a long, thin black object nearby, and set it straight up on her desk. It just looked like a black tube with a small hollow end. A few moments later, a lighter and a long cigarette appeared out of a desk drawer, and soon the cigarette was set on top of the object, top lit.

"Get out of my office. You have until the end of the night to leave." Nightcore said coldly as she leaned back on the wall behind her, propping up the slim cigarette holder in the space beside her like it was a weapon.

Snorting with indignation, I picked up Taking Life By The Horns and my Amulet with my magic, setting it on my neck. It was refreshing, to feel the weight on it again. A little cold, but that was a reminder that it was still there.

"Fine." I said. "Have a nice day."

With that, I stomped outside the office, passing all the varied pieces of machinery and finery that, on a better day, I could have took my time and examine. I only took a breath when I heard the door shut behind me.

I unclasped the Amulet from my neck and placed it haphazardly in the book, held fast by the paper. It was cold enough outside.

It was bleak, too. It looked like it was fall, really, from the way the wind was blowing. Grey dead grass was around me, and it crunched under my hooves when I walked across it. I had too many questions in my head that were unanswered, but I didn't know what to do now.

Well, I needed to get Watchful, anyway, and probably apologize to Dawn. I really needed to figure out what I needed to do with Candy Cane, and...

...is that a barbecue?

Close to the house, half-hidden by shade, was what seemed to be a fire pit with a large animal hanging over it. I saw movement, as well. A stray Brahman, to be exact, was wandering around, aimlessly and lost, moving in short bursts of movement. It mooed occasionally.

Wondering what exactly was going on, I stopped walking to the house directly and over to it's side. There was signs that other ponies were around the pit recently as well; there was a small fold-out table with some condiments laying on it, and a white cooler was stacked with sodas.

I looked at the animal on the spit. It was another Brahman, if a rather small one. It was small enough, actually, to check if the one passively standing around was a cow, which it was. I felt a little guilty; I liked veal as much as the next person, but this was a bit much. I would imagine that the two of them kept some cattle around for the sake of cheese, but Nightcore and Dawn were apparently vegetarians after a sense and probably wouldn't like it if there single cow was sad.

Then again, there would have had to be a male Brahman wandering around, and there wasn't, as far as I could tell.

I watched as the large beast went to the river, watching it jiggle slightly all the way. It was a well fed animal, anyway, not a skinny working beast but a expensive looking one that could feed a town for a week, it's black hide shiny and heads identical.

I looked up, seeing the balcony above me. This was a decent spot for a cookout, I supposed. Going by the state of the animal on the spit, there was some time to go before it was ready.

"Hey there, miss cow, do you know whats going on?" I asked it, trying to amuse myself. "I don't know if I'm crazy or not, but you weren't here before, were you?"

Funnily enough, one of the heads looked at me, like it understood what I was saying. Silly creatures, Brahman.

Then, in a flash of blue-green, Sea Salt burst out of the water and dragged it under, it's screams overtaken by the sound of tearing flesh and popping bone.

There Was a Decent Pun-y Title Here, But Sea Salt Ate It.

You are a fool, to believe that the good die young. Fitting that your brother died from a gun his own people built, then.

You...you filthy mangy little varmint, how did you...how dare-

If that kernel of good ol' earth pony wisdom is true, than what does that say about Celestia?

I wish I could say that I was not affected by violence anymore.

Now, that sounds horrible and it really is, but it's true. In Fillydelphia, you never knew if the ponies you just talked to yesterday would come back from a mission, or if you would be assigned to be in a place that is patrolled by slavers or griffons. I wasn't a stranger to gunshot wounds or the charred flesh energy weapons made, and I had seen my fair share of equipment malfunctions and what happened when ponies were close to them.

I once saw a pony in power armor get drenched in flamer fuel, after being hit with a Anti-Machine rifle round. Parts of the armor was salvageable, but the pony wasn't. I don't even remember his name.

I once saw another Scribe's brains blown out by a Initiate who didn't know that the gun she was fiddling with was loaded. She got promoted to her father's old station five hours after she killed him, because that's how I got promoted to a Senior Scribe and we needed a new one to fill my spot.

I once saw a mob of ghouls swarm a slaver caravan that was in line of sight for a pony armed with rifles to be able to save the slaves, but no one dared to fire a single shot because of ammo shortages, even when the slavers fled and left a carriage filled with slaves chained inside to be ghoul-food.

I wish I could say none of those things affected me deeply, because that would be easy.

But nothing's really easy.

I still didn't want to think of what happened to make Braymont the way it was. Half-tribalistic mutant cannibals just wandering around without a single pony doing anything about it just wasn't...right. I knew that ponies eat other ponies, but that was just raiders and the insane. But they were friendly. It didn't sit right with me.

Watershed was much worse, though. The ponies who attacked it reminded me too much of how Red Eye operated; shock and awe, kill the weak and blow up everything that they couldn't use. They had a mechanized armored infantry carrier, something that I only knew from pictures,with at least two big guns mounted on the front of it and surrounded with at dozen or so ponies in combat armor.

Normally, a raider group with military-spec equipment was a horrible thought in itself, but the ponies who attacked the town were not raiders. They had to have connections with one of the major power players in Caledonia, but who, that was the question.

That, combined with the griffons, made me think for a few horrible moments that Red Eye was around this far north. Nightcore's words on the matter were not very comforting, either.

But that's not important just now.

I thought I could say for sure that I wasn't scared of gore anymore, that I had seen the worst of what could happen to a living creature.

I guess I was wrong.

It took me a few moments for my brain to comprehend what was going on in front of me, and when it did, I didn't react how I thought I would have.

"Wow, brahman have a lot of blood in them." I said distantly, looking at the sight before me. I felt blood rushing to my head, making my legs feel like they were going asleep. I placed the book and my Amulet on a patch of grass a little way's away from me, not wanting to worry about keeping them close to me.

The brahman couldn't reply, considering that it's right head had been ripped off along with much of it's shoulder while other was half-crushed and pulpy.The huge creature that had pulled it halfway into the water and was propping itself on the corpse, however, paused it's feast. Raising it's huge head out of the dead beast's chest cavity, muzzle stained red with gore and a thick loop of intestine sticking out of the side of it's mouth, she gulped it down and blinked.

There was no comprehending in those almond-shaped eyes, big and green and innocent. The worst part was that they were pony eyes, but they were pony eyes in the same way a alicorn had pony eyes; they mocked them in their existence, just enough that was familiar with them that it made them that much worse. She had infant eyes, not really looking at things but categorizing them, no malice or hate or anything in them, just constantly looking.

Sea Salt was crouched over the brahman, elbows bent at odd angles as she kept hold of the sides of the poor thing as she went to town on it. When she saw me, standing there off to the side, she didn't say anything at first. She just stared at me, like I was the one who was eating a whole brahman that was half-soaked with water on a silty riverside, neck deep in meat, making bones break and sinews snap with every odd movement or so as she angled herself so that she could have the most food in her face as possible.

After staring at each other for a few moments, I thought that, for a few horrible moments, that she was going to rip off a chunk of meat and throw it in my direction before going back to her feast, like a peace offering.

But she didn't do that.

"Er, hello. Sorry you had to see me like this." she said softly after swallowing the mouthful of meat she had managed to tear off. "I didn't know you were there."

I looked at the creature. The worst part was that, while her head had a undeniably pretty quality and her voice was melodious, they were all feeble trappings to a fishy hybrid beast with claws like a froggy hellhound and a body like a shark.

"It doesn't matter." I said, a little surprised at myself that I used its name, "It's the fact that you did it."

Against all common sense, I walked closer to her, and was hit with the strong stench of blood. But I kept a brave face.

"...I did it because I was hungry." she said, after a while of looking at me, "I saw Ever Watchful near the river, and I said I was hungry. We didn't talk long, because he said he was busy. But then he brought this with him."

She lowered her head a little, and licked a newly exposed rib on the carcass. "It tastes nice. He called it a brahman, I think? A cow? It looks like a cow, but it has two heads. Hmm."

I felt something churn in my stomach when I saw her nip on a exposed bit of meat near the mutilated stump that used to be a head, knowing that if she could just tear off the head of a strong animal just like that....

"What are you?" I said, after walking so that I was all but in front of her. If she wanted to, she could swipe a claw at me and split me in half.

But, for whatever mad reason, I didn't think she would do that.

"I...I am me. That I am sure of by now." she said, sounding uncertain herself. "I was once a different individual, but only in body. In mind, I am still me, even if my body has changed. I don't...I can remember feeling that I was dying...a long time ago. But now, I don't."

She pulled the claws on her right hand out of the brahman's flank and brought them up to her face. "Yes, these are mine now, however, and I cannot do anything about that. What am I to act like, if not myself?"

"That doesn't mean you have to act like a animal." I said sourly, trying not to get angry at the creature before me. "If you were once a pony, you can try and act like one."

"But..." she stopped for a moment, and spared a look at her red-stained claws. "I don't think that is...Ever Watchful said I should try and be myself."

"Ever Watchful says stupid things sometimes." I said with a little more viciousness than I intended, "If being yourself means that you try an eat ponies, than you shouldn't be yourself."

A dark look flashed over the creature's long face, one that made me fear for my life for a few seconds before it's shoulders slumped down and it's head hung low. "But I was hungry, and he led it to the river."

I didn't show it, but I was startled. "He did?"

She nodded. "He did, yes. He told me what a brahman was earlier, in the docking area, and then, when I found him sitting along the shore, he was talking with a few ponies. One of them said they knew where two brahman were, and after a while they came back with them."

At that, she turned her head to the right, frowning. "Why are you cooking the little one?"

I turned around, seeing that she was just noticing the calf on the spit. "Brahman's good eating. Veal's good."

Her expression of confusion transformed into one of mortification. "You eat meat?"

I almost laughed. Almost. The giant monster pony that smelled like dead fish and blood,hunched over a animal carcass that it was gorging itself on, was scared of me.

"Yes." I said, "Of course. Why wouldn't we?"

"I wouldn't have...you just eat them? Is that normal?"

She sounded like I was the aberrant freak, and I chuckled even as she reared up slightly. "Why are you so upset? You keep eatin-"

A harsh gurgling sound rose up from the creature's gullet, turning into a wail of horror in due time.

"That's horrible! It was a little calf! It doesn't even look like it's a year old!" she yelled at me, pointing a accusing claw at my face.

I stared at the monster before me, talking about how cooking a animal was a terrible crime while using a corpse as a perch.

"Well, you are eating it's mother." I said, as calmly as I could. "You did eat ponies too. You tried to eat me too. I still have scars."

Sea Salt's reaction was strange. At first she just looked at the brahman under her, mutilated and missing nearly a quarter of it's flesh, and then at the smaller one on the spit. After she stared at the prepared calf, I saw her grip on the flank of the cow tighten slightly, as if confirming that it was, indeed, real. Then she looked at me the same way she looked at the corpse under her, like I wasn't worth giving thought about. She didn't look at me like I was dinner, but she didn't look like we were having a conversation.

"I don't know what happened to this country, but I am quickly learning that I do not really care." she stated firmly, "It seems to have gone downhill in the past two hundred years. Tell me, who won that spat that caused this?"

"Equestria." I responded immediately.

"How wonderful. Is the government doing well?" she asked, leaning forward a little, expression the paragon of docility. There was a spark of curiosity in those saucer-wide eyes, a curiosity that seemed to overwhelm the fact that her muzzle was stained a light pink and her limbs were buried up to the wrists in brahman flesh.

"Well, no. There isn't a government." I said, trying to do my best not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Sea Salt blinked. "I thought you said the Equestrians won?"

I didn't like how she said 'Equestrians'. Was she really so removed from what she once was?

"Well, we did. You don't hear much from zebra lands anymore because there isn't much of it that wasn't destroyed in the aftermath." I said, going off what little I knew about them. "Equestria got bombed too, but so did Caledonia."

"A pity. So, there is no government anywhere and everyone here eats meat. I think I had a nightmare about something like this once." said the giant nightmarish chimerical seabeast that was once a pony that once bit into my skull, the one currently half-resting on a corpse.

"You just killed a animal and bit one of it's heads off." I mumbled. "And you are wondering about how the government is doing?"

Sea Salt stared at me for a few moments.

"Well, yes." she said. "It is in my best interests to, anyway. I would think I am stuck here, in this country, anyway, considering I have yet to get out of this river entirely."

"Oh, really?" I said, trying to not sound happy, "Why is that?"

She looked uneasy, and raised a forlimb, limp wristed and stiffly. "I do not have the upper body power to drag myself out of here. And my tail gets in the way, and there's almost nothing to," she paused, looking at her claws, "grab on to. I would think that I am waterbound."

I felt a twinge of pity strike me, one that left immediately after she started to lick her claws, cat-like in the worst way possible. "And there's no fish in these waters, or none that I have seen, and while I do like the weather, it's chilly, and so is the water."

She coughed in embarrassment, even bothering to cover her mouth with the claw she was trying to get all the nibbly meat chunks that were caught in the webbed abominations that should have been hooves.

Then I heard a deep gurgling sound, like thick mud with bubbles coming up through it.

Sea Salt looked at her belly, unsure if it came from it or not, while I tried and see if something was behind her.

Then the brahman head that was left started to moo, what was left trying to angle itself so that the side that still had a eye on it could get off the ground.

It was trying to get a better view of the roasting calf that farther along the shore.

"Oh," she said softly, raising herself, hands and all, off the not-really-dead livestock like she was caught with a hoof in a cookie jar, "That's not good."

I expected her to do something, like bite into it's spine, or slice its throat and be done with it. Or even just finish the job and rip it off, like it did with the other head.

But she just leaned back, settling herself on what could have been haunches at one point in time, looking at the gasping brahman like a foal who is trying to figure out a puzzle.

"Are you not, well, going to do something?" I said weakly, feeling like I was going to faint.

She did nothing, and stared at the already-dead cow that just kept mooing, staring at the little one on the spit, crying out in pain.

My stomach turned. This was sick and wrong.

"Put it out of it's misery, Sea Salt!" I yelled, close to screaming, "Just kill it!"

The giant seapony shifted around in the water, and I could see a giant grey fishlike tail stirring up the stilt. Her limbs were shaking feebly, and her mouth was just open enough that I could see her lips trembling. She was afraid.

The animal that didn't know it was supposed to be dead started to bray, in a way that reminded me of a donkey. Or a pony. It was a mother that died before it's child, and here it was, it's last moments being strung out by it's killer.

"Finish the fucking job. you stupid monster! Screaming never stopped you before, kill the-"

Sea Salt slammed a fist into the head, and I heard a sound like a wet treelimb being snapped in half, followed by a spray of blood hitting her in the face because of the head being severed.

The mooing stopped.

I closed my eyes a few seconds too late to be free from seeing Sea Salt kill the brahman as she did, but I was glad I did in the end, because I heard something else crack a few seconds later, and tried not to scream when I felt a small splash of something warm hit my face.

I couldn't close my mouth in time, though, so I knew it was blood.

"Oh...oh." I half-heard Sea Salt mumble, her already quiet voice muffled by the sound of something thick and wet hitting the ground. "I did not...it...that has never happened...it shouldn't have happened."

I did not open my eyes, preferring to lay down on my side, legs huddled close together, head hung low. I couldn't cry, but I just did not want to open my eyes. I smelt blood and guts and dead cow and, worst of all, cooking meat, and for whatever horrible reason, I was starting to regret not eating the cheesy soup that was waiting for me in the room I woke up in, because I was starting to get hungry, and it was cold and I was not in a good mood anyway.

I couldn't risk snapping at her. I couldn't risk getting mad now.

"This isn't....an' jae'...ana mareed."

And the creature that was causing me to try and retreat from the rest of the world sounded so pathetic and distressed that it wasn't even saying real words, and just kept making weird breathy sounds.

"Aasef. Aasefaaseftaaseftaaseft..."

"Shut up." I said. "Just shut up. Stop whining."

I curled into a smaller ball as I felt some wind pick up.

"It's not like I...I didn't want to do that." she said weakly, sounding closer to me than she did before.

I opened my eyes. The cow was gone, or well, half of it was in the water and the rest of it was in chunks, and Sea Salt was resting her upper body fully on the newly wetted ground, huge me-sized head just a few feet away from me, big green eyes wide and pity-inducing. I did not smell blood any more than I did before, but I could tell from a casual glance that she was covered in it, head a pinkish color and red bits all along her gore-covered left arm.

"How can you say that. You...you went for it. You killed it. Like those ponies on the bridge." I said with little emotion in my voice. At this point, I had little emotional strength left to spare, anyway.

At this angle, I could really only see her gigantic head, as big as my actual body and a just slightly thinner at the neck. She looked at me with a face that shouldn't have belonged to something that had a creatures lifeblood smeared all over it because of it's wanton feasting.

"I did, but I didn't do that because I wanted to. I did this, though," she waved a claw vaguely over to the corpse,"-because...I am hungry."

A great pause overcame the stillborn conversation we were having, choking it to the point it seemed like it never existed at all.

"I don't like this." she said, giving me a oddly reserved look, "I hate this weather. I miss a roof over my head. I miss my fish. I miss my home. But not just that one, but the one before, too, like...I miss my dorm room. I miss my friends. I miss my family."

She sighed. It was a knowing sigh. "But I have to accept that this is reality. Denying the truth wouldn't work, really."

"You've thought about this, then."

"Well, yes. I have had a long time to think about this."

There was another pause.

"I am sorry. For biting you on the head."

I almost laughed. She sounded sorry. Like that meant anything.

"I am sorry for yelling at you." I lied. "I really am."

"Don't be." she said, raising her neck just a little off the ground.

"Okay."

I realized I might have said that a little to fast, going by how Sea Salt's eyes narrowed for just a few seconds, but in moments her face returned to what passed for normal for her.

"I don't expect you to like me." she said, sounding like she actually felt bad about it, "But I don't want us to be completely against each other. If you want to say something to me now, please say it."

I stared at the strange mutant before me, and the scene of utter horror around the two of us.

"You have a bit of cow on your face." I said.

Sea Salt's face made several funny contortions, eventually ending with her looking at me with a slightly open mouth and raised eyebrows. Her hair was just now starting to dry out, making her look like she had a large mop of green moss on top of her head, one that trailed onto the ground.

"Thank you." she said politely, if sounding completely lost.

She looked around slowly, as if she was making sure that we were the only living creatures in sight. For now, anyway.

"How well do you know Ever Watchful?" she said questioningly.

I blinked, and rolled over into a true sitting position. The grass was slightly wet and cold, but it was better than it being wet and warm. "Well enough, why?"

She gave me a sad little excuse for a smile. "Well, I know there are plenty of things I should be talking about, like what happened two hundred years ago, or how did I get like this, and stuff like that. But I don't think I care about those things, really."

For a split second, a look of sudden realization passed over her face, and she reared up on her legs, making a wet slorpsh as her belly tried to stick to the bloody mud under it, and slowly, painfully, almost, lowered herself back into the river.

After a few moments, her head poked out of the water, now only slightly pink-tinged, and gave me the most pathetic grin I had ever seen in my life.

"I...I know you don't want to talk to me. But, can you please just...stay here?" she said pleadingly. "I don't want to be alone out here. There is nothing here. Nothing here at all."

I walked around the bloody remains of the cow, trying to ignore the book and Amulet sitting two dozen feet away from me, along with the barbecue and the house. And the wasteland around me.

I did my best to ignore life, I guess.

Talking to creatures that could have been figments of my imagination, presumably, could help me do that.

I was too tired to be angry. I was too tired to be enraged, insulted, or offended. I just wanted to live.

So I settled down on a soft, firm patch of soil near the edge of the river, and sighed.

"I don't have many plans right now, actually."

Her look brightened up considerably.

"So, what do you want to talk about? I have plenty of time."

"Well, it's about Ever Watchful," she said, before pausing sharply.

For whatever reason, she started to blush. I was starting to get a little concerned as her face started to turn red.

"Are you okay?" I said, honestly worried. Well, not too worried, but still worried, and that meant something in this day and age.

At that, she bit her lip. I was a little freaked out at first because of the fact her upper teeth were triangle shaped and sharp looking, but she was still biting her lip.

"Oh, well, in a sense, yes, but, oh, this is odd, I don't know if it's my place, but, ah, well, um, I couldn't help but notice, ooh, this isn't..."

She sounded like she was a innocent little filly, and out of those three she was none. I said nothing, however, interested in what she was saying.

"I mean, I don't know if it's usual among minotaurs, but it would be rather, erm, interesting, but I would think that, for the sake of, well, mares, and I would guess a few stallions..."

I wasn't sure if I heard that right, so I tried to make sense of what she was saying.

"Well, it might not be a big deal, but it's still something that's, well, no, it is rather lar...but the main thing is..."

I did so again.

"It's not like I don't want to, well, it's not a matter of object...oh, this sounds awful, doesn't it?" she stuttered out, voice going up a few octaves.

I did so several times, in fact, and each time I tried to make out what she was talking about gave me a growing sense of mortification.

"Well, given your height differences, it must have surely come up at one point, but forgive me dearly if I am wrong, but I would just think..."

My left eyebrow twitched uncontrollably.

She let out a tense giggle. "Could you tell him to find a loin cloth?"

I groaned into both my hooves when I saw the look on her face.

This day was getting weird.

[The Interfishin] Man, Horses Shore Are Weird!

I dreamt that I was perched atop a throne of pony skulls
On a cliff above the ocean, howling wind and shrieking seagulls
And the dream went on forever, one single static frame
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name

"So, could you tell me a bit about yourself?" I said, long after recovering from Sea Salt's lewd suggestion and at a lost for other topics. I wasn't in a good mood, but I didn't feel especially bad, even when I could see chunks of dead cow in the corner of my eyes every time I looked to my left.

It was either this, or talking about the weather.

"I guess." Sea Salt replied, apparently startled that the bout of silence between us being ended by me.

I wasn't surprised that she seemed reluctant, but I was surprised when she made her way closer to me, if hesitantly. She seemed skittish now, giving a spare glance to the ruin that used to be a brahman nearby when she got the chance to do so, and did not seem especially happy at the moment.

She was about a dozen feet out in the river before, but just six feet closer to me made me feel uneasy. From her upright position in the river, it just looked like she was a oddly large light blue earth pony, if one with a long neck and a finely-shaped head. It was unsettling, really, especially considering that the river was a few feet down from where the outcrop I was sitting on was and Sea Salt and I were still at eye-level.

"Well, my name is Sea Salt." she said after getting close enough to me that she didn't have raise her voice beyond a conversational tone to speak. "I used to be a student at the U of T."

I tilted my head. "Where?"

She gave me a pained look. "The University of Tauronto; you know where that is, right?"

It took me a moment for me to realize just how old she was. She looked young, young enough anyway, but there was no more denying it any more; she was old. Like the old ghouls that sometimes popped up every so often out of there pre-war hide-y holes, feral and rotten. Older than power armor. Older than my great-great-great grandmother and grandsire. Older than the Stables, probably. She was there, before the war.

I had some trouble really getting that, but when I did, I nodded.

"I do." I said.

"Well, that's good." she replied softly, not sounding especially thrilled about how the conversation was going. "It was fun. I was majoring in Pre-Migration Equine Relations. Rather easy, really."

She stopped for a moment, giving me a reserved look. "You don't really care about that, do you?"

I was a little sorry that I shook my head. "Ever Watchful would. But tell me about you. Like, well," I waved a hoof in her direction, "What are you, anyway?"

"Oh, that." she said with a odd sort of loss tinging her voice. "I guess that would be something you care about, even after all this time."

She then did something I would have never expected something her size to do. She was lying before; she could move herself up out of the water, and she could without any extra fuss or effort. In one smooth heaving motion accompanied with the sound of water rushing into a empty space, Sea Salt landed, slid really, sideways to the right of me, barrel-like body settling down in the dry grass and limbs folded under her.

All in all, she looked like a oversized light grey-blue equine with strange ridged ears laying down on her side, but the lack of legs and the big fleshy tail that replaced them broke that image.

"Sorry, I just thought...this would be better." she said, lowering her head low to the ground, her neck making a C-shape as she looked at me, "Resting on the ground, I mean."

She raised her neck up high, high enough that her matted hair was starting to fall down to her shoulders, and groaned when she cracked it noisily.

"A-ah, I have been needing to do that for a very long time." she said, voice a little more breathy than before, "In hindsight, I think I have needed to pop that joint for a decade or so."

"Okay." I said, not sure how to go along with what I wanted to speak about. It seemed a moot point now. She was a giant seapony thing.

"Now, about who I am. I don't think you know of Saddle Arabia, do you?" she said questioningly. "If you do not, it's quite all right."

I only needed to think about that for a few seconds.

"I don't think so, what is it?"

I wanted as much information as possible, and sometimes, to do that, you needed to pretend you didn't know the subject. Something I learned from being in too many situations where I knew only a bit of what I needed to know.

Sea Salt did not react badly to my denial, but rather smiled. It wasn't a necessarily happy smile, but going by the look in her eye, it seemed that she had heard it before.

"It is quite a way's away, unfortunately. It's closer to Germaney and Prance than anything else...hmm. Do want me to tell you about it? I will if you wish."

She sounded pleased as she said that, like she was indulging in some nasty habit and reveling in it.

"Go ahead, I'm boring." I waved a hoof out to her, motioning her to go ahead and speak. "I guess you are from Saddle Arabia?"

She grinned, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Indeed!"

Raising her head slightly, I noticed that her mane was starting to dry, making the big moss-colored mass that covered nearly the entirety of her neck curl at the tips, and as it dried it started to poof out slightly. I suppose that a century or two without cutting her mane might have be a factor, but as it was the slowly drying mop of curly green hair on her head was big enough to the point where you could probably hide a small pony in there without anyone noticing.

"Now, I am not a pony, but do not worry yourself; I am a horse, and still would like to think of myself as one." she continued, pausing to gauge my reaction. "

"What's a horse?" I said, playing dumb. "I don't think I have heard of them."

A look of distinctly heart-breaking sadness passed over her face then, eyes lowered slightly and mouth opened just enough to show that she was trying to take quick, easy breaths. This wasn't fair. I wasn't supposed to feel bad for trying to learn something.

Ug. Nice going, Blueberry. You made the giant seapony with mental issues want to cry. Mom would be proud.

"Ah." she says after a few moments of thought, sounding uneasy, voice tinny. "Well, there is a story behind that. It's a old one, but it's decent. And I guess it's needed to understand Saddle Arabia, too."

She lifted a leg up and sinks a talon into the dirt. "Saddle Arabia had five provinces, for the five..." she gave me a reserved smile, "Ah, the term doesn't translate well, I would think, but my people see themselves as descending from one of five tribes, or herds, or even dames. It's a odd thing to put into words in this language."

"So, they divide themselves based on ancient bloodlines?" I said, piercing together what she was saying."Five areas of rule for every tribal group?"

I had heard of similar stories in Equestria, but this was before the wars, and on a far greater scale then what I was familar with. When she said 'tribe', she wasn't talking about a few dozen individuals. She was probably talking about a few thousand or so.

She smiled broadly, erasing any sign that she was sad a few moments ago. "Yes, you are right! There was a royal family in each tribe, and each one was large and powerful. But a hundred years ago, the Saddles came into power and obtained the seat of power in the capital. Hence," she paused, adding a little flourish to her voice,"Saddle Arabia."

She looked like she was enjoying this, and sounded like it, too. When I nodded for her to go on, it looked like her face was going to split open from the way she was smiling.

"Now," she continued smoothly, with the practiced ease of somepony who was used to talking about something she liked, "I used the word 'tribe', which is not the right word to use when speaking of the social structures of my people, having no resemblance to the pony or zebra usage of the term. The correct world would be something like 'pedigree', but it's actual usage within the context of Saddle Arabia denotes only which of the Al Kamsa, or bloodline, one belongs to. As I have said before, there are five of them, but before you ask, bloodlines outside of the major families matters only for the point of obtaining and controlling land and housing. There are minor families of some importance, but the most common way for a member of such a family to gain power is to marry into one of the greater families."

She took a breath, and somehow had more to say.

"As for the main families, each have historic ties to each of the tribes they have had control of for generations. The Seglawi are controlled by the Shammires, the Hamidani by the Quhiars, the Kehilan by the Zahnarau's, and the Abeyan by the Sahbahi's. Those are the four lesser tribes of the horses, the one's that have little actual power in the kingdom but have control of vast amounts of land and money. My tribe and house, however, is that of the Hadban, who are ruled by the Saddles accordingly."

I felt like I just took a hoof to the face. The way she worded it made me unsure for a moment, but she said it neverless.

"Wait, you are part of the royal family your country is named after?" I suddenly realized what I just said, and what she just said. "Are you like, a princess or something?"

She shrugged lightly, causing some of her curls to untangle from the long strands of hair that covered her shoulders. "Well, yes. It's not that big of a deal, really. The royal families are large."

"Like, how large?" I pressed. "Because I think you are screwing with me here."

She snorted. "Why would I do that? What could I possibly gain from lying about something like this? Do you believe that I find this to something to be joked about?"

She sounded deeply offended, which made me want to tell her that, yes, I do know a little about Saddle Arabia, but what I do know I just learned from a jaded mare who was sitting in the shack near the radio tower nearby, and I didn't want to tell her that my general impression about her country was that it was a slave-taking no-mares land.

"I'm sorry." I said feebly, "I didn't mean to make you upset."

Sea Salt let out a deep breath, and followed it with a long, sad sigh that made the grass in front of me move around like there was a gust of wind blowing.

"It's quite all right, I am sorry if I frightened you. It's just that, I have lost count about how many times I have had this conversation with ponies. It's a little disturbing to me, really. I came to this place to learn, somewhere where bright ponies from both Equestria and Caledonia came to be taught by the brightest minds in the country, But sometimes," she rolled her eyes and sighed with exasperation,"They can be so ignorant about what's outside there little bubble, don't you..."

Her face went bright red as she realized that she happened to be talking to a pony, but before she could cover herself raised a hoof and motioned encouragingly at her. "No, not, it's alright, I have to agree."

She stopped fretting after a few moments, but said nothing as she raised a eyebrow.

"Ponies can be stupid, but so can everything else that has two braincells to rub together.You are talking about different countries, around in Equestria, if you are from the wrong village you might get beaten if you travel to the one a few days away. If you ally with the wrong ponies you might get yourself in trouble, or worse. Most do not know the history of the towns they live in, let alone that of the world before the war. No, I agree; ponies clump together to pointless labels too much for there own good, and are too willing to ignore what's not right in front of them. I don't know many who could really be called 'educated', really. I guess I'm one of the lucky ones."

I didn't want to say the rest of what was on my mind, which was that sometimes, ponies tended to be so hostile to outsiders because it was a survival mechanism that worked really well, especially when one side had power armor and the other side did not, but I thought that would dismantle any approval I gave to her views.

Sea Salt opened her mouth slightly, seemingly in shock, but closed it in due time. "I see that three things are eternal now, I suppose. Death and taxes can be joined with ignorance."

"Well, I don't know many places that collect taxes, honestly, and your living proof that death isn't all that's cracked up to be." I said, letting myself smirk. "So I guess that ignorance is the only stable thing in the world, then."

She let out a high pitched giggle at that, her weight shifting to the right enough to where she looked like she was about to roll on her back and laugh like a madmare. But, she calmed herself down enough to where she could speak after a few moments.

"I suppose, I suppose. Now, you were wondering about my family, yes? The Saddles are actually a very large family. There were around fifteen thousand individuals in it at last count."

She paused after finishing, frowning lightly. When she spoke again, it sounded like she was voicing her own thoughts as apposed to just answering me.

"It's probably far smaller now, though, if Ar-Rideyadh was nuked. Most of my family lived there."

I blinked once when I heard the word 'fifteen', then again when I heard 'thousand', and then let my jaw drop when I heard 'individuals'. That might have been a quarter of the currant population of Equestria. It might have been bigger than the currant population of Caledonia.

"...That's not a family, that's a small country." I muttered.

She nodded at me, smiling broadly. "You are very right! The five dynasties actually constitute five percent of the entire population, and the Saddles are actually two percent of that!"

I started to feel lightheaded, something that tends to happen when I try and comprehend things when large numbers got thrown around in places that usually didn't feature large numbers.

"How does...something that big function? I mean, they can't all be related, right?"

She nodded. "Yes, but very, very distantly. All the families are said to be related from one of five mares that were alive a very long time ago, but I wouldn't put much truth to that. But yes, there are sub-families within the families, especially in the Saddles, where there is only one major branch within it."

She reared up slightly, unfolding her legs so they could stretch out beside her. "In reality, most of the Saddle family has little power outside the positions gifted to them in the government. The truly royal family only has about two hundred members."

I looked at a rather grassy spot next to me out of a wish to not actually look at Sea Salt more than I had to, taking great care to appreciate that the grey mass of plant matter to the right of me was slightly thicker and had a slightly greener tinge to it than the rest of the grass that surrounded it. I almost took a bite of it.

"Oh." I said, trying to force some enthusiasm into my voice, "I guess you are from the really royal family, then?"

Her face suddenly went hard, line's forming at the corners of her eyes and a small scowl appearing.

"Yes I am. I was the very last mare in line for succession. That's why I am here in this country. Is there a issue?" she said, suddenly bitter and apprehensive.

I wanted to start running in the opposite direction then, because I got a good reminder that she had a mouth like a oversized chainsaw.

"No. It's just-"

I was cut off when all the hostility in her stance vanished, and she sighed softly, sounding exhausted. "Oh, oh, that was rude, please forgive me. I didn't mean to do that. I...I got confused for a moment."

I tried to keep my voice from sounding like I wasn't entirely lost on what just happened. "No, it's fine. So, really, your royalty? Are you a princess or something?"

A hazy look of something like amusement flickered on her face. "Only by technicality. My grandmother was removed from the king's own mother by two generations, sharing the same grandmother, but there's little point in grasping for such things." She gave me a sad, wry look. "My father was not especially liked, truth be told, and..."

Her words trailed off as she raised her head, looking past me with widened eyes.

I was about to ask her what she was looking at, but then something tiny and brown rushed up beside me and ran up to Sea Salt, making high-pitched squealing noises.

"OhyouraprincessseaponyohwowyoursoprettycanItouchyourmane?!" Candy Cane half-screamed as she ran up to the happily surprised sea...horse, bouncing in place and looking like she was about to pounce on Sea Salt's neck and never let go.

I was more than a little worried that she noticed the remains of the thing that used to be a cow that was currently painting a good amount of the riverside red, but either Candy Cane didn't notice or didn't care.

Neither did Sea Salt, apparently, as she was looking at the tiny bundle of energy with fondness.

"Of cour-" was all she could make out before Candy Cane ran around her, struggled a little in getting a foothold on her belly, and made her way shakily from there onto Sea Salt's neck, scaling it until she was on her head, looking slightly tired and utterly proud.

I wanted to say something, possibly along the lines of 'Don't use her shoulders as a springboard' or 'Goddesses, Candy Cane, do not walk on her neck!', but Sea Salt was practically sharing Candy Cane's grin, carefree and completely engrossed in what was going on.

"You are adorable!" she exclaimed, seemingly not uncomfortable about the filly standing upright on the top of her head.

"No I'm not!" said little filly squeaked, "I'm adorevil!"

Sea Salt broke into a big, goofy grin.

"Oh, yes, you are probably history's cutest monster."

"Yep!" the filly chirped, now leaning over the right side of Sea Salt's face, looking her in the eye.

"Heh, she is, isn't she?" A dark, almost mocking voice spoke up, causing me to raise my head and look around for the speaker.

I was confused for a moment, wondering if I was hearing things, until I looked up at the balcony.

There was a mare close to the railings, dusky-colored and lithe, a comparatively skinny one that was built like a runner, a little shorter than average but looking like a wire frame wrapped with lean cords of muscle. Sleek and spiny, with dark purple fur and short roughly cut black hair.

She was also on the wrong side of the railings, something that made me profoundly worried until I saw the yellow color of her eyes and the bat wings that adorned her back, flapping every so often to stay afloat.

"Hello miss batsy!" Candy Cane said happily, waving a free hoof at the bat pony happily.

"Oh, hello there, thank you for the cow." Sea Salt said amicably, tilting her head upwards slightly so she could see the floating not-pegusus above her.

"Hey Candie." it said fondly, giving the filly a affectionate wave of hoof, "And no problem, Sea Salt."

The floating creature then looked at me, and it's casual expression wavered slightly. "Blueberry Cream, right? Doin' better now?" it said, frowning. I saw a fang peak out from under it's lip.

I nodded, noticing that my mouth was starting to dry.

"Yes. Much better."

After I said that, I looked at the radio tower, a ways away past Sea Salt, and then I looked at the book that contained my Amulet that was a few length's away from the small roasting brahman.

Then I looked at the giant seahorse with the tiny filly on top of her head.

Then I looked at the floating bat pony that was looking at me like I was the strangest thing in this entire scenario.

Then I realized that my life officially made no sense.

[Interlude llll] The Monster Of The East/The Bull Of The North

I didn't stay outside for too much longer, considering that I wasn't completely insane and I had a feeling that if I waited any longer out near the river, for example, a dragon riding a buffalo carrying a hellhound would ride over.

Or something unpleasant, anyway, but I didn't give myself much time to think about new and fascinating ways for the world to screw with me, preferring to grab my new book with my magic and pulling it close to me. I then made my way to the front of the house, ignoring the confused looks that the local seapony and the filly on top of her were giving me as I walked passed them.

I didn't bother looking up, and I didn't want to, either.

In fact, I didn't think I really saw anything as I made my way to the front of the house, but that wasn't really important, now was it? The scenery wasn't different from before, the house was still the same as it was a few days ago, and the only new addition of note was some cow painting the riverside red.

The front door was unlocked, like it should have been, and the gate that surrounded the house stopped near the river, so I just let myself in with a huff.

But the only important detail I could think of, really, was that Ever Watchful was sitting around in the parlor, leaning forward with arms outstretched and hands clenched, waiting for me.

"Watchful, why are there two mythical creatures outside?" I said perkily, walking over to the sulky big guy.

He raised his head, and because of the lighting I could just barely make out his face. All in all, he was still a little intimidating to me; actually, no, he was still pretty scary. Even if he did have the personality of a whipped dog and was completely nonthreatening, he was still easily twice again bigger then any stallion I have known and had a pair of horns that looked like he could skewer a pony on each one. I pulled a bullet out of him once, though, and that counted for something. He was made of flesh and bone like anypony else.

"Blueberry, neither of them want to hurt us and at least one of them is going with us." he said, sounding strained. Well, from at this angle, he boomed. I was a little fearful of what he would sound like if he screamed, frankly. He was just a breath's away from rattling the glassware on the table.

"Which one, the cannibal seahorse or the bat pony?" I said with false cheer. "I think you need to narrow it down a little, bec-"

"I mean Umbra." he said, sitting up and raising his arms in exasperation. Taking a pause, a remorseful look passed over his face. "The bat pony's name is Umbra, and she has friends in the Reavers."

"Oh, well, that's great." I said flatly. "I mean, is that all? Then tell me, how does Candy Cane know her?"

His expression turned into one of worry, and it seemed like he was trying his best to pay attention to the ceiling.

"I wanted you to talk to her, actually. She's a friend of Nightcore's, and I haven't actually gotten the chance to speak with her about anything."

I was appealed. "Really! Are you scared of her or something, she's like, half your-"

"Yes!" he hissed, raising his voice as he sat up just enough to look over me. "She's the one that attacked me in the docking bay!"

"Wait, what? Hold on, you..." I tried to think back to what I remembered about what was going on two days ago, and I frowned. "She did that? And you didn't tell me?"

"Blueberry, you were still angry about Candy Cane, and when you found me you were in one of your...things. Would you have believed me if I said I was attacked in the middle of the night by a vampire pony?"

I frowned, unsure of what to say. I didn't remember what really happened during the time I was in that docking bay, and I didn't recall anything about Candy Cane before she ran up to me in Watershed. "Well, I guess I wouldn't, but...huh." I stopped, realizing something. "I guess she's that Ms. Batsy?"

Watchful paused for a few moments, eyebrows raised and fingers curling into his palms, but shrugged after a few moments of contemplation. "I guess she is. I suppose she's the one who took care of Candy Cane as well."

We both looked at each other, apparently wondering which one of us was going to take the bait.

"You didn't ask Candy Cane about what she was doing in Donk's Docks, did you?" I said, breaking the silence.

"I did, Blueberry, but she didn't give me a straight answer. But she's, what, six? She might have been there her whole life."

He paused, motioning to me. "I'm really not sure if I should be the one who should talk to Umbra, Blueberry. She's been giving me odd looks since she arrived, actually."

I tilted my head. "Like, how? I mean, is she...has she said anything rude to you, or anything?"

He shook his head slowly, but I would think it had more to do with the huge horns on his head than anything else. "No, it's not that. She just looks at me oddly." he brought a hand up to the back of his neck, almost shyly. "I mean, I think I am used to ponies staring at me, but I caught her staring at me once. Not angry or anything, but...watching."

I raised a eyebrow, giving him a playful look. "Well, you probably could bench-press her if you wanted to."

He suddenly grew agitated, small grey eyes narrowing slightly. "That's not what I mean, Blueberry. I can tell when a pony probably doesn't want me around. She looked at me like I was going to snap at any moment."

That was troubling, very troubling. "I'll ask her about it, then. I hope it isn't anything major, then. If it is, though..."

I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I gave up.

"Blueberry, Dawn told me something that's been gnawing at my mind about Tauronto." he said, voice wavering slightly, "She told me there were minotaurs and buffalo in Tauronto more than thirty years ago, but they vanished. I don't like how she sounded when she was talking about them."

I breathed in deeply. "Well, didn't your grandfather say something about a Stable filled with them?"

He looked unnerved, his big weird mouth in a grimance. "I don't think I can trust what he told me anymore. To much of what he said doesn't make sense, too many conflicting stories. And there was that ghoul who reacted to his name oddly."

I nodded, narrowing my eyes. "True. I'll ask her about that, too."

Feeling like I needed to leave him alone for a good amount of time to think, I gave him another nod and made my way to the open door, leaving my amulet and my new book behind on a table, so he could see it.

He didn't stop me from leaving the room. I wasn't sure if I was glad or not, that he didn't have anything else to say.

I took my time getting out to the balcony, frowning when I realized that I hadn't seen Golden Dawn on the way up. But then, I had time to do what needed to be done about her.

Up close, Umbra looked strange, but startlingly natural. Not to mean that she did not look strange, but she didn't exactly look like a evil creature of bloodsucking horror and death at that very moment. She was sitting near the railings, on solid wood this time, leaning slightly to the right, presumably to see Sea Salt and Candy Cane play around. I didn't know much about pegusi, or bat-winged one's for that matter, but she seemed to be on the small side and a little bony; she couldn't have been more then a head and a half taller then me and her collarbone was visible even from the side. Her ears were tuffed, and when I stepped outside, they twitched, like a cat's. Her cutie mark was some sort of dark purple swirly-symbol I couldn't make out from the angle I was standing at.

"Oh, hey." she said, not sounding surprised at all by my entrance, "Blueberry Cream's your name, right? Mine's Umbra."

She seemed rather relaxed, as far as things were concerned, posture slack and voice low. I wasn't sure how to approach talking to her, so I tried to think about something I would have a excuse for asking about.

"Hello." I said, making my way to the railing, taking note that Sea Salt was apparently giving Candy Cane rides in the river. Which was mildly irradiated.

"I'll get her to drink a Rad-Away, don't worry." Umbra said immediately after I spotted the duo, as if she was reading my mind. "The Donk's water isn't as bad as most ponies think, anyway, she won't be turning into a tumor pile on my watch. Heh."

"About that." I said, trying to keep myself from staring at her strange slitted eyes, "What's Candy Cane's story? I mean, what happened to her parents?"

The bat-pony shifted herself, leaning a slim foreleg placed the railing after turning around to face me, giving me a sober look.

"About two years ago, I was flying on the outskirts of Tauronto when I found a caravan train. Three carts, slavers. One loaded with beds and the other two filled with slaves, heading north from the looks of things."

I gave a look to the little filly currently on top of Sea Salt's head, apparently attempting to stand up on her hind legs while singing some song or another. "What happened?"

The bat mare's voice was scratchy and grim, like some late old-world news messenger. "A wheel on the main cart broke, and the slavers were arguing about what to do. When I sniped off one of them, they started to shoot at me. That didn't last too long. But the mare in charge was a piece of work, real bitchy big-shot. Almost clipped me."

She stretched out her left wing, which made me breath in deeply. The wings themselves looked old and slightly transparent, like a dirty window. They looked worn and used, the edges graying and slightly tattered like old cloth. I spotted the single hole in it quickly enough, placed near the very top ridge and little more then a half-inch wide.

"The slaves were all alive, but she solved that quickly enough. They were all shock collared, she wasn't even decent enough to get explosives. Fried their brains, it took too long for them to die. It's not something I like to remember."

She paused, grimacing. "Two dozen ponies, all mares."

Umbra paused again, nose flaring slightly. "Smelled like a barbecue."

I felt a bit of bile rise up in my throat. She didn't sound happy at the memory, but what it implied...

"How did she survive?" I asked quietly, looking over at the little filly cheerfully playing in the river.

Umbra sighed, but she sounded somewhere between amused and pained. "The mare's last words were to look after her little foal in the passenger seat. Candy Cane's real name is Candy Chain."

I blinked once, mouth opening in shock. "Are you saying-"

"That she's a slaver's kid? Yeah. The mare was a splitting image of her, same hair and everything. She's smart, though, no bad blood in her at all. Knew how to read when I found her."

I tried to suppress the empty feeling growing in my chest, and tried to lock eyes with Umbra. She didn't look especially amused, or upset either.

"Really, now? She told me she was six." I said, smiling weakly. Or eight. I wasn't sure which one was right.

"She was closer to a foal then a filly when I found her, so that's my guess." Umbra shrugged, her skin stretching around her bony shoulders like it was a carpet around a angular machine. "Still, she can read and write, and not just scribbling. She's been begging me to find something better then Flufflepuffs Fluffy Adventures and Daring Doo. I caught her reading a crime novel, and one she shouldn't have been reading in the first place. Thicker then her hoof, hell, my hoof." she finished, letting out a raspy chuckle as she raised a thin leg for emphasis.

I stared at the seapony and the little filly on her head, and sighed. "The more I learn about the ponies around me, the more I realize that I should probably settle somewhere."

"I get it. I'v seen a lot, too much probably." Umbra spoke up, flapping her wings a few times. I caught the sad look she gave to the scene below us, yellowed whites and golden irises narrow as she sighed.

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel about her then; she acted like a mostly normal pony, even if she was strange looking.

"Are you a Reaver?" I said, hoping I didn't offend her. It was bugging me, how her wings were so damaged and her eyes were so odd; they looked like they gave off a slight golden glow.

"Heh, naw. I'm no ghoul." Umbra hooted, "Been like this a while. I'm closer to them then you, though."

"What does that mean?" I said, honestly curious at her strange answer.

"Magic's awesome." she said, waving a hoof in the air. "I'm not a Reaver, but I'm on good terms with Sheol. I didn't die two hundred years ago, just got..." she scrunched up her nose, seemingly trying to find the right word, "Preserved, yeah. Necromancy got to me, but I don't rot, and I heal in balefire radiation. It's a nice deal, but I'm still breathing. Saw a unicorn about it once, said it had to do with magical matrix's interacting with outside forces or some complicated crap like that. It's no big deal, honestly. Seen weirder things happen to ponies then what happened to me."

I stared at Umbra, wondering about what exactly what I was looking at. Another pre-war monster, but one of even more dubious sanity then Sea Salt. "Who's Sheol?"

"A Reaver big guy." she said slowly, straightening out her posture, "Big guy, one of Mr.Ed's main servants. If you see him, you're already dead. He doesn't come out of the Tower unless Ed want's something killed or done away with." she pauses, giving me a canine-toothed smirk and a nasty leer. "I hear he eats Steel Rangers."

I took a step back instinctively, which caused Umbra to blink with confusion and worry.

"Aw, shit, I didn't mean it like that." she said, panicking slightly. "I'm kidding."

"Don't joke like that." I breathed after I managed to calm down enough to speak, "Don't joke about killing Steel Rangers, ever."

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry." Umbra repeated, sounding upset at herself. "It's just...your minotaur friend mentioned it, and I couldn't not mention it, after all. I'm not going to kill you or anything."

"Ever Watchful told you I was a Ranger?" I said slowly, anger building up. How dare he, how dare-

"Hey, chill out, I said I was sorry." Umbra piped up, looking confused.

I felt stupid; I needed to keep calm, and I needed to be smart about this. I was going into what might as well be enemy territory.

"It's fine. But about Watchful-"

"Sorry to interrupt, mind if I ask something 'bout him?" Umbra quickly interjected, grinning sheepishly. "It's just a funny thing, really, nothing important, but it would help relieve some of the tension I have about him. I'm a paranoid old bat, yeah, but mind humoring me for a few seconds?"

I was annoyed by the sudden question, but nodded, hoping that it was the one that was bugging her about him. If it could make her open up, I would tell her anything.

"Sure, ask away, as long as it's not too personal." I said, trying to sound less annoyed then I really was.

"What's his dad's name?"

I grinned. "Bulls Strength. Original, isn't it?"

She let out a little dry giggle, like a drunkard. "Ah, see, that's a big fricken relief. See, he reminded me of another minotaur, and there's only so many of them wandering around, but there's only one named Bitter Truth. Big'n tall black minotaur's arn't exactly common around here, you know."

I blinked, frowning. "That's his grandfather's name."

Her entire demeanor changed, stance alert and face frozen in a unfortunate rictus.

"What the fuck did you just say, little mare?" she said, voice all honey and poison. "Did I hear you properly; Bitter Truth's his grandsire?"

"...Yes." I said, confused and slightly concerned at Umbra's reaction. She looked at me like I just told her a Balefire Bomb was set to explode underneath her. "He is."

The bat pony dropped to all fours, crouching low to the floor as she bared her teeth, ivory knives set on black rotten gums. I gulped; ponies shouldn't have a mouthful of fangs.

"Blueberry Cream, are you shitting with me? The minotaur downstairs is Bitter Truth's grandkid?"

I dearly wished for a method of defense, or just something to separate myself from Umbra. I wanted a gun or a knife or something blunt and heavy; she reminded me of a old manticore I shot once near the Everfree, all skin and bones and skill. She looked like she would pounce at any moment, ears perked up and hooves outstretched like claws.

"Well, yeah, w-what's the problem with that?"

Umbra let out a shuddering, full-body hiss, arching her back as if to accommodate old wounds, eye's bright with hatred and fear.

"Your telling me that Ever Watchful's the heir of the Minotaur Legate, that's the fucking problem!"

Instead Of A Dark Lord, They Have A Queen

"The what?" I asked, confused. "What's a Legate?"

Umbra, to my mild relief, relaxed her stance and moved back slowly, even if the distrust and anger in her animalistic eyes made me a little scared. "You don't know. You have no clue. You are a Steel Ranger, and you don't know what the word Legate means"

"Um, no." I said honestly. "I have no clue."

Pausing, I looked up, mostly to avoid looking at her directly.

"It does sound like a zebra word, though." I said, hoping that I was right. "Is it a zebra word?"

Umbra let out a long, low growl. "Bitter Truth was the war leader of the greatest threat in this part of the north in a hundred years."

She gave a quick glance out to the radio tower, trailed off to the electrical fence that covered the front half of the house that was visible from here, and looked at me.

"You really don't know." she deadpanned. "He doesn't know either, I take it?"

"He barely knows his dad, and Bitter Truth was a bit grandfatherly to him, he didn't say anything about their relationship to him at all."

Umbra looked like she had been shot for a few seconds, eyes wide and mouth open, before getting her emotions in control and frowning.

"Figures that old brute's still around. So, where's he at right now?"

I wasn't sure if it was right to tell her, frankly. I didn't want to be the pony who gave up the location of the only peaceful minotaur settlement that I knew to exist.

"I don't think Ever Watchful would like it if I did that. But I might tell you if you tell me what's the meaning behind calling him a 'heir to the Legate.' Actually, it might help if you told me what that even means first."

Umbra paused, giving me a foul look. Not because of me, no; it was the subject.

"I guess it could."

She flexed her wings out, as if to test the air.

"Fifty years ago or so, there were minotaurs living in Tauronto. Like the one's out west, but not the same. The one's out west pretend to be savages. The one's around Tauronto...were."

She looked up, shuddering.

"The whole city has roots on a old minotaur one, really. Entire place is one giant maze a few miles down; they lived in it, a thousand years or so ago, before ponies came up and found it abandoned. Could have been a plague, could have been a war, but it was empty as a tomb. But they built a city on it, and minotaurs still lived outside it."

I didn't want to question her words, but I couldn't help but doubt that. How would she know what the world was like a thousand and two hundred years ago?

"The minotaur's were really at war with Caledonia, in the end. But their old city got nuked, so they were left without homes. Some followed a leader, and some didn't. They were too few to cause much trouble, as they didn't use guns, but they were around on the outskirts. Sometimes one wandered in and made a name for himself; they died quickly enough that when the next wave of would-be lords and ladies came in they didn't have any competition."

Umbra sighed.

"And then Bitter Truth came down from the north with a herd of buffalo."

I tilted my head, finding a hole in her story. "Why was there buffalo so far north? I thought they lived down south."

Umbra shook her head, giving me a faint smile. "You know, I think I said that a long time ago. But no, your right. Apparently, there was a Stable out in the north where they had buffalo and minotaurs in it. It must have opened or something."

Her smile turned downward, brow furrowing. "But that's not the point. The point is, Bitter Truth got a bunch of minotaur tribals together into a fighting force and up and invaded Tauronto. The Legion of The Red Bull. He tried to make himself look good by trying to mimic the zebras."

She snorted.

"A bunch of savages armed with spears and swords, that's all they were. Brute strength and numbers. They could send ten of their solders to die and lose nothing. Scout with stealthbucks snuck in first, and then the buffalo came around a few days before the actual attack, telling anypony to either move out or die, and then the stealthed minotaurs attacked from inside areas of real resistance while the actual army just killed off stragglers who survived the sabotage. Kicked out a lot of the raiders that used to be around and killed off a lot of the ponies in the worst parts of the city, but they killed everypony they saw, didn't matter if you attacked first or not. They took slaves, yeah, but nopony knows what happened to them."

She paused, giving me a expecting look. "And nothing lives up north past Tauronto. Go west and turn up, yeah, but there's a big empty patch where nothing lives. Just green snow that never melts and big forests. Nothing that far north besides the Crystal Empire, and they couldn't do anything there, so no one really knows what they did with the slaves. Could've sacrificed them to their gods or something or ate them, don't know."

"What's the matter with the Empire?" I asked, raising a eyebrow, "I thought it wasn't that bad?"

Umbra sighed in disgust. "You don't know?"

I shook my head. "I don't."

"Do you know why crystals are needed for machinery?" the bat mare said slowly, words drawn out so I could hear every syllable.

"Magic." I responded immediately, adding a little force into my voice to make sure she knew that I knew that she had no right to talk to me like a inferior, "Crystals naturally store magical power, and magic can be focused through crystal easier than any other substance."

"Yeah. Now, what do you think a city made of crystal does when it get's hit by a giant bomb filled with necromantic, radioactive dragonfire," she drawled. "when there's a big shield of love and joy around it?"

I shrugged, saying nothing.

She gave me something like a smile. "Nothing was touched. The entire city survived without a single casualty. But the balefire ..."

Umbra flapped her wings once, perhaps because of irritation. "The crystal adsorbed the balefire, kind of. Seen it myself, place glows at night. In some places, the fire breaks out."

Something clicked. "So the place is a giant deathtrap."

"Yeah. It's like, the worst deathtrap." Umbra repeated, sitting up and spreading her hooves widely in the air, like she was measuring something far-off, "I mean, in Hoofington or Canterlot you can just walk in and have a chance to live. The Crystal Empire isn't even worth it if your a ghoul, because the Crystal Ponies notice you."

"Crystal Ponies? Like, ghouls?"

Umbra blinked, and let out a dry chuckle.

"Nah, like, Crystal Ponies. Still shiny and everything, They didn't really die, like normal ponies; I mean, they were gone for a thousand years, what's two hundred more on them?"

"...Huh." I said, too stunned to think about the real implications of what she was saying.

"Yeah, it's funny. I met one, before the war; I thought she was a little dead inside, the way she acted. Thought she was just depressed or something, bu-"

"Look." I said firmly, raising a hoof, "I'm going there, but I don't need to be told about the place right now. You are going with Watchful and I, right?"

She suddenly looks passive, seemingly ignoring the world around her for a few seconds. Her irises widened slightly, and for a few seconds I thought she stopped breathing.

It was really creepy.

"I am going with Candy Cane. Candy Cane is going with you." she said pointedly, like it was rehearsed. "If you want, I could get you into the inner city, but you better not tell anyone about Ever Watchful being...you know."

"Okay." I said, "That's okay. As much as I want to talk to you, I need to go talk to him right now. We both need to get some information on Tauronto, and neither of us knows more then the other. Mind telling us what to expect when we are heading up the road?"

The bat pony looked at me oddly. For a few seconds, she looked immeasurably younger. I could almost ignore the yellowed whites of her eyes and the signs of dry rot around her hooves and wings and pretend that she was a perfectly normal pony that happened to have strange wings and slitted eyes.

"Purebred-owned place, about thirty ponies. Small town in a big hotel, two highly trained guards and one powerful Purebred landowner. Sells fruit to keep the bits flowing, there's a small fighting ring set in it as well. No slaves, but they let ponies bring their own."

She licked the side of her mouth in thought, and I was surprised at the dark shade of red her tongue was.

"Only rules they have are against ghouls entering the building, and that pretty much includes me. I think I could sleep on the roof anyway. Watchful should be fine as long as he doesn't do anything to set anypony on edge."

"Do you like the Purebreds?" I asked, trying to sound nonjudgmental. "I mean, Nightcore's a member of them, and you seem to be friends with her."

Umbra looked at me in the strange way she did before, like she was a schoolfilly who wasn't expecting to be asked a question.

"Nightcore's different. She got in as a gift, didn't pay for her rank in it. But the slavers, them? Those are what I can't stand. A lot of Reavers couldn't care about making distinctions between individual members and just kill them. I don't like that. A lot of them are just ponies."

Nodding, I looked behind me, just to make sure that there wasn't anyone listening in on the conversation. A habit that marked me as slightly paranoid, perhaps, but it's saved me a few times.

"Hey, would you mind striking up a conversation with Ever Watchful, just to tell him about Tauronto? While we are on the road, of course."

Umbra blinked, and while she didn't frown, her mouth hung open slightly and lines formed under her eyes.

"Huh? That's a little sneaky, I mean, just to...plan something like that. Something that should just be a normal conversation."

"It is, but I would like it if everyone knew the same basis of information."

She blinked again.

"I guess that's fair." she said, before suddenly breaking out in a rather raspy laugh. "I think I get you better now, Cream. I think I get you a lot better now."

"Call me Blueberry." I asked politely, watching as Umbra nodded in confirmation, "Or Blueberry Cream."

"Blueberry it is-" Umbra said quickly as she half-jumped skyward, turning to me after she had flown a few feet away from the railing, "-and do you want a burger?"

It was my turn to blink, confused at the topic change.

"Huh?"

"The brahman." she said happily, "the one on the spit. Lot's to go around."

"I think I will pass." I said, trying to keep the contents of my stomach down. "I saw Sea Salt eat the other one."

Umbra looked confused before looking at the large bloody patch on the ground, giving me a wince.

"I couldn't blame you for that."

And with that, silently, she decended with a flap of her wings.

I stared at the space that the strange creature had occupied a few moments before.

Suddenly, I realized I hadn't eaten in a day and a half.

I needed to fix that.

I realized that something strange was going on when I saw that Ever Watchful was not in the house, but my things were still where I left them.

When I noticed that the back door was open, I felt some relief.

As I made my way outside, I could only hope that the two monstermares and the filly to the right of me didn't notice the way I slowly, cautiously, made my over to the radio tower.

When I was at the door, I sighed.

When I opened the door, ever so slowly, I didn't know what to make of what I saw at first.

The Mr. Handy in the center of the cluttered room wasn't on at the moment, but for a few seconds I thought I was about to get shot. Then again, it was upside down and powered down, so I shouldn't have thought that I was going to get shot anyway.

The two others in the room, however, seemed to be under the impression that I should have been. Or, at the very least, I should have knocked before entering.

I saw Nightcore first. She didn't seem to have moved from her spot, cigarette holder still held off to the side, but her expression was now one of worry. She didn't seem to enjoy the fact I was back in her little domain.

Ever Watchful, on the other hand, had his back turned to the door, but I noticed the small tubular object clasped in his right hand, pale colored and with rounded edges. I don't think I have seen it before.

Both of them turned to me, and both shared a curious look of surprise at my entrance.

"Blueberry, would you mind looking over that robot and figuring out what's wrong with it?" Watchful asked politely, calmly, even as it was quickly becoming obvious that I was not exactly expected to be here.

I looked at Nightcore. She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes, eyes watery and hair in a slight frizz. The room smelled odd, like wet wood trying to burn.

"What are you two doing, anyway?" I said, moving over to the robot on the floor as slowly as possible, making sure Watchful saw that I saw the tube in his hand.

He spoke up immediately.

"I found this," he raised his left hand, the one he was using to hold the tube,"in Watershed. It had a code on it, and I thought Nightcore would want to see it."

I frowned, upset. "Why didn't you tell me this? I could have looked at it."

He gave me a sad look, and for a few moments I thought he was going to stutter out some silly lie.

"I did, Blueberry. You didn't know."

I kept looking at him until I figured that, well, what would you know, I had nothing to say to that, so I just turned my attention to the prone robot, trying to forget I had even said anything about the stupid thing in his hand.

Looking the machine over, I went over what I noticed about it in my head. It only had three arms, and two of them were simple graspers; a odd feature. While it was a typical Type-1 in most respects, it's blowtorch and saw were removed, and that a small plasma gun was attached on one of the hands. The grey-with-blue-outlines paint job marked it as a simple civilian modal, but the single gun was rather military-spec and very much out of place.

I looked up, noticing that the tube was now in Nightcore's magical grip, Ever Watchful simply standing near her, face unreadable.

"I need a screwdriver." I announced. "It looks like a internal issue."

Nightcore motioned to my right, and it took me a few seconds to notice that there was a small collection of tools set on a mat next to me, including a few screwdrivers of varying size. Shrugging, I took one and made my way on the robot.

After a few moments of struggle, I carefully raised the bottom hinge off, limbs and jet propeller and all. A quick look showed me the issue immediately; the microfusion breeder, the same sort of power device that powered Self Defense, was disconnected from the actual motor. The actual breeder wasn't broken, but it seems that the wires were loose.

That was a good thing, a very good thing, because if it was broken, considering how long I had been around it, I could have died from the radiation it would be giving off before I could run out the door.

With that in mind, I set the lid back in place, screwed it back on tightly, and went over the diagnostic spell in my head as I lifted the robot right side up.

It was actually far simpler then what most ponies thought of when they thought 'diagnostic'. It doesn't actually tell one anything, and it was useless if you didn't know what you were looking for. It just helped you find something with one's magic that you couldn't see.

To put it into laymare's terms, I quickly found the loose wire, and tugged it back into place.

I felt a bit of pride when I noticed the sound the motor starting up, and smiled when I saw one the yellow mechanical eyes look at me. I could almost believe it was looking at me with curiosity, but it was a robot. It couldn't feel anything. AI's weren't like ponies, really, but they were just enough like them for some ponies to get fooled into thinking that they really were sentient.

"It has been one-million seventeen hundred forty three thousand and two hundred and forty hours since I last served you, Ms. Nightcore." the robot whirred in some strange, clipped accent. "How can I assist you today?"

I went over the numbers it spouted in my head, and stopped when I realized what it was saying. I looked at Nightcore, who was looking rather mortified herself.

"Jenkins, go out on patrol." she said clearly. "Do not stop until I say otherwise. Do not harm anypony."

"Of course, mylady." the robot says as it angled it's eyes to get a look at the three living creatures in the room around it. "Shall I arrange a bath?"

"No, it's quite fine. Go along now." Nightcore said, a little firmer now.

The robot couldn't bow, but it's leftmost eye bobbed lightly in the air before it made it's way out the front door.

I could only notice that Ever Watchful didn't realize the significance of the robot's words, and Nightcore just keep looking at me pleadingly.

"I wanted a way to keep this place safe on the off chance I would be leaving, so I got that old thing out." she explained quickly, too quickly.

I nodded very slowly, mostly as a way of showing that I knew she was lying through her teeth.

Looking at Ever Watchful, I saw that he was giving me a odd, concerned look.

My stomach rumbled.

Nightcore, putting her cigarette holder down, smiled weakly at me.

"The rarebit's still downstairs, if you want it." she said feebly, hopefully.

I gave her a small smile.

"Thank you." I said, making my way past Ever Watchful in order to go down the leftmost hallway.

He didn't say anything, simply giving me a strange, thoughtful look. I didn't say anything, but I hoped that, from the look I was giving him, he realized that we were going to have a long, very in depth-conversation soon.

As I took a right, made my way down the stairs, and reached the door that held what was probably going to be my breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I realized two things:

My neck did not hurt anymore.

and, less importantly,

I was the only normal pony in this entire place.

Don't Worry, We Will Get To His Daddy Issues Soon Enough

As Blueberry left, I realized that we were probably going to have a very long, very painful conversation about seaponies and amulets, but going by the profoundly hungry look on her face such talk had to wait.

As the small mare passed me by, I stepped to the side slightly, and then once more, backwards that time. I didn't think I was too close to the desk for Nightcore's comfort, but I figured it was best to play it safe. Even if the room was a little cramped for me to move around in, it wasn't the only reason I was slightly uncomfortable being in it. The smoke was another factor, yes.

But the main reason, really, was the mare sitting on the other side of the desk.

"You lied." she said suddenly as she twirled the strange black cigarette holder around in her left hoof, "Really easily."

I nodded, giving a look at the small tube laying on the desk. "Of course. I doubted she wanted to hear that she killed a pony a second time."

Nightcore gave me a smart look, lips curled upward and her eyes wide, yet lacking anything resembling humor in her expression.

"I doubt that's the best way to handle it; lying to the pony with memory issues. It will harm her more than help her, anyway."

Before I could respond, she batted the message tube with a hoof.

"You found this in the base of a cyberpony's neck, huh? Neat."

I gave her a withering glare, one she returned.

"Hey, you still have the legs around, right? Don't tell me I can't admire good engineering."

"She was a pony." I said slowly, trying to keep the anger I was starting to feel out of my voice, "And Blueberry is the one who has them."

Nightcore didn't look fazed at all. "And she isn't around, and by the way you described her, she was already dead. She had a small fortune of robotic parts strapped onto her, so what would be the point of not taking them?"

She paused, giving me a mildly apologetic look. "We are getting off topic here. Yes, I can get this to the Watchers."

I breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the fact I didn't like any part of this. I didn't like the pony in front of me. I didn't like the building I was in. I didn't like the smell. I didn't like the fact I heard a animal get eaten alive a few moments ago. I didn't like the strange bat pony that looked like it was a day-old corpse that was flying around outside. I didn't like Blueberry right now, either.

"Thank you." I forced out. "For doing that."

Nightcore sucked on the end of the holder for a few moments before turning away to let out a small puff of smoke.

"No, thank you. It's a mare's last words; how could I refuse?"

Turning around to me, she looked at the holder for a few moments before giving me a nervous smile.

"Don't tell Dawn you saw me smoking. It's a bad habit, and she doesn't like me doing it."

I stared at her, unsure of how I was supposed to feel about this. Admittedly, this was my problem, but I wasn't sure what to think of her flippant way of dealing with it.

"Fair enough. I wouldn't think it would be a nice habit to keep. They must be expensive."

She smiled. "Hardly. But she doesn't like me doing it anyway. She says the smell sticks to me, and that it's bad for my lungs. I know it isn't right," she laminated, "but I only do it when I am stressed."

"That reminds me of something I think I need to know a bit more about." I said hesitantly, "Do you know a pony named Charnel?"

Nightcore stiffened. "Chanel? I don't think I know of her." she said, half whispering.

"Charnel. The former colonel. Not Chanel." I said a bit firmer, to make sure she knew that I wasn't playing around. "I think you know who I am talking about."

Nightcore stared at me for quite some time.

"Yeah." she mumbled out, barely audible. "She's family. By adoption."

I crossed my arms, nodding. "Sister?"

Nightcore seemed to notice I wasn't entirely surprised by her admittance, so she simply continued to explain herself. "Cousin. I barely know her, but...she didn't try to like, kill you, did she? I'm sorry if she did."

"She didn't. But thank you anyway."

"Ah." Nightcore said slowly as she put down the black holder in her hooves, "That's nice, I guess. I don't know her really well, but she's bad news in general. The worst commanding officer in the entire NCR."

I leaned back slightly and let my arms drop closer to my sides. "Really? She seemed to have her troops in check."

She gave me a odd, inquisitive look. "Barely. I heard she once tried to outfit fifty ponies with flamethrowers out on the front lines; she lost them all in a week. She's a killer, not a leader. She only got in the position in the leading ranks because she got wounded."

I motioned for her to continue, and she did so.

"She's a nut. She didn't just quit, you know. Somepony found proof that she managed to fail the initial ethics test all the officers need to pass. Nopony really liked her, but they really couldn't get rid of a technical war hero without reason."

"I have heard that before." I said, mostly to reaffirm what she was saying, "Well, not the part of the ethics, but the part about her being fired. How do you know that, anyway?"

Nightcore motioned over to the hallway to my right. "Lot's of reasons. I have a machine back there that writes down transcripts of most of the stuff on the NCR radio. Half of it's in code, but a lot of it is easy to make out."

I shifted my position a little, as I felt my legs starting to fall asleep. There were a few chairs around the room, but none of them looked big enough for me.

"Well, that's interesting." I said, trying to sound as interested as I could be, "I guess that doesn't get you many favors from them."

She gave me a unamused look. "If they knew, they would kill me, probably."

Leaning back on the big poster behind her, she gave a sudden shrug. "They don't know where I am, so I don't care. You made your way through the hills, but most ponies wouldn't bother with it."

I swayed back and forth on my hooves, mostly to keep myself alert. The creaking of the wooden floor under me was worth feeling comfortable. "I understand the appeal, I suppose. Keeping yourself away from other ponies."

"Oh, really? Where are you from?" she said, looking up at me as she started to fiddle with the black cigarette holder once more.

"A small settlement on the side of a road ten days from here." I said reluctantly. "Perhaps you have heard of it?"

She bit her lip and adverted her gaze, apparently deep in thought. I noticed some of the strings on the poster behind her started to shake and quiver from the blunt force the back of her head was applying to it. Black strings, grey strings, even a lone pink string leading all the way to the upper corner of the map, all-

"Route fifty-three?" Nightcore said suddenly, interrupting my thoughts, "Minotaur tribe operating out of a old paleo-pony ruin?"

It was strange to hear someone talk about my home in such broad terms, but I nodded. "Yes, that one."

Nightcore nodded, leaning forward slightly. "Huh, I thought those stories about minotaurs there were just rumors, but I guess they were true. Huh. That's good to know."

Again with the marginalizing of things that were important to me. Sighing, I decided to steer the topic away from myself and to things far more important.

"Would you mind telling me about the Purebreds? It's been bugging me. I have been hearing some conflicting reports about them, and I want to know if they are worth looking into."

Nightcore grinned at me, putting both her hooves behind her head and placing her hind legs on the table. It looked rather uncomfortable for a four-legged creature and vaguely lewd, but I wasn't one to judge.

"Well, that I can do." she said, somehow speaking around the holder in the side of her mouth. "I'm a member myself, you know. The first thing you should know is that the Purebred is not a real organization. It's about a half-dozen smaller one's that operate under one name because it makes everypony feel better."

"I suppose that's better then all of them being unicorn extremist slavers." I said, trying to sound upbeat to disguise my confusion.

Nightcore nickered. "Heh, yeah."

She adjusted her mane with her free hoof, apparently to get her short bangs out of her eyes, and started to respond in earnest.

"Well, the most important group is, well, the Purebred."

Pausing at my confused look, she snorted. "They are the 'unicorns who think's they are the best' sort. They're not speciest, though, they just think they are nobleponies. Think of them as the main body of the group. They have lots of caps and basically run the entire thing and the places it owns. Most of them arn't nice, but their not all stupid. Otherwise, they couldn't run it."

"Oh. I suppose that's nice." I replied.

She raised a eyebrow.

"I guess; actually, there's a old-world name for the system of government the Purebred use."

I took the bait. "What is it?"

"They called them 'protection rackets'." she said bitterly.

I was going to ask what exactly what she meant by that as I heard a set of hooves behind me meet wood.

Turning around, I saw the tiny shape of Candy Cane coming through the doorway and over to the desk, resembling, on most pivotal points, a soggy kitten. Her short mane was down to her shoulders and she looked like she could have been on one of those pre-war posters for charity donations.

"Miss Nightcore, can I have a Rad-Away please?" the little filly sniffled out, voice low and tired-sounding.

Nightcore bit her lip when she saw Candy Cane, probably because she looked utterly adorable and rather sad with her hair matted down. Either that or the wet trail she was leaving on the carpet.

"Of course, of course..." she said a little louder then I expected. It took me a few moments to realize that was her attempt at a motherly voice. It wasn't a very convincing one.

Nightcore pulled out one of the yellow-orange packets at the side of the desk quickly, but took her time to rip off the plastic seal near the top of the container. Gingerly, she levitated it over to the filly, who was starting to give her a tired, slightly pouty look.

"Now, dear, even if it tastes bad, make sure to...oh."

Nightcore's voice faltered when she saw that her admittedly kindly advice fell on knowing ears, with Candy Cane sucking on the Rad-Away like it wasn't anything unusual. I never had to consume one myself, but I have heard that they tasted horrid, which made me surprised at the filly's willingness to drink the nasty brew.

"Thank you miss Nightcore. Can I have a blanket or something warm? I'm a little cold."

As if on command, she let out a small sneeze that sounded more like a squeak. Being ridiculously helpless must be a survival trait for ponies, because it's worked on me. I spotted a fuzzy-looking grey blanket that was draped over a pile on a nearby chair (it might have merely been a fluffy towel, but what's the point of making distinctions?) and took it without a word.

"Thank you mister Watchful." she replied mildly, wrapping the blanket around her like a cocoon as she sat down on the floor, "And thank you miss Nightcore."

At that, the mare looked utterly unnerved, like the filly's words were those of impending doom.

"Hey, Watchful, I have to check on some equipment, we can talk about Tauronto later...yeah." she said, sounding far-off and insincere. Strange.

I turned a bit to let her leave, and as she made her way down the right hall Candy Cane gave me a strangely distant look.

"Are you and miss Nightcore fighting?"

I looked at the filly, completely concealed except for her head, and decided that if I was on foal-watching duty, there wasn't a point in standing up. I mean, I was as tall as a pony sitting down, so there wasn't a real reason to strain my legs, now was there?

Leaning on one of the larger piles of junk, I decided to answer honestly.

"No, Candy Cane. We were just talking about Tauronto."

"Oh. Okay." she replied slowly, like she was expecting that. "What's Tauronto like, mister Watchful?"

I chuckled. How could I have not?

"That's what I have been trying to figure out, Candy Cane."

She gasped. It sounded like a squeak. "You mean you don't know? Miss Batsy knows, you could ask her!"

I repressed a frown.

"I don't think she likes me very much, Candy Cane." I said, this time with forced cheer. "Do you know what she is, by any chance?"

The filly blinked.

"Miss Batsy's a rev-ah-nant," she said slowly, before shaking her head. "I mean, a revenant!"

I couldn't help but tilt my head to the side, the image of a little filly knowing something that I didn't being to much for me. "What is that?"

She coughed lightly. "It's a ghost in a dead thing, I think. That's what she said."

"So she's not a ghoul?" I said questioningly, raising a eyebrow. A ghost in a dead thing. That's a way to put it.

"Nope! Ghouls are icky, but miss Batsy has lots of ghoul friends. Sometimes they come over, they're really funny."

I nodded. "Ah. Did you always live in that shipping dock?"

"No, miss Batsy helps me move some times." she said quietly. "She doesn't like it when other ponies come close to where I am. Sometimes they just...."

She suddenly looked far less comfortable then before, then she really should have. "Miss Batsy doesn't like it when ponies she doesn't know comes near me."

I looked at the filly, and I, with some reluctance, understood where Umbra was coming from.

"Candy Cane, you haven't been outside much, have you?" I said slowly, trying to sound light-hearted and friendly.

"No, but outside is cold and nasty. But there are fun things outside, like miss Sea Salt!"

Ah, that reminded me of something I really shouldn't have forgotten; the local cannibal.

"Do you like miss Sea Salt?"

She nodded with enough energy to make me weary. "Uh-huh! She's really fun! She gave me rides on her head, like you did!"

I sighed in relief. "Candy Cane, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

The little filly gave me a confused look, and blew a red strand of hair off her face before responding.

"No, mister Watchful, go ahead, but if you do, can I ask you one?"

She sounded curious, endearingly so. Could I blame her? I was probably the second biggest thing she had ever seen, besides Sea Salt.

"Of course."

I leaned back a little, hoping the little filly would not see the concerned look on my face.

"Do you know who your parents are, Candy Cane?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I don't remember them really well, but I know them."

"Could you tell me about them?" I said cautiously. "If you want to, anyway."

"Sure."

It was a strange experience, talking to a tiny pony with no one else in the general area, I mused.

"My mommy helped ponies get from place to place. She had a big caravan that held thirteen ponies, and we always went from Tauronto to...some southern place." she said, sounding embarrassed that she stumbled on her words, "Mommy had five helpers with her, and she was the boss! They always did what she told them to do, and they even did what I told them to do! They were really nice. I got, like, a bunch of toys and snacks from them."

I smiled. She was a caravaner's kid. A trader's foal. Fair enough.

"That sounds nice. What about your father?"

Candy Cane lowered her head slightly. "My mom said he was one of the ponies who she helped move around."

It took me a moment to realize the gravity of what she was saying, and when I did I felt awful.

"Hey, it's okay." I said, trying to sound positive even with the filly's ears drooping and her eyes downcast. She looked embarrassed and humiliated, a look that made her look far older then she should look at her age.

She didn't say anything, and even though she was almost completely covered with the blanket, she looked like she was trying to huddle herself into a ball.

I gestured over to her, dearly hoping that she wasn't going to cry, and didn't make a sound when the filly scooted over closer to me.

Feeling a wave of mild nervousness, I thought about what I could possibly do. Picking her up was probably a no-no, and she was too big to treat her as anything but a young adult...

I, extremely slowly as to watch Candy Cane's reaction, stretched my left arm out before settling roughly around the ball of blanket and fluff that managed to worm it's way over to my side. It was a odd feeling, hearing something breath and shift right next to you.

It was a very uncomfortable one, too.

"Thank you, mister Watchful. You are really warm." she said quietly. "Thank you."

She made a soft weepy noise in the back of her throat, one made for a parent that wasn't going to answer. I knew that, because it wasn't the first time I had heard it before. I'v done it myself.

Ponies threw my reflexes off. Even the few kids that were running around in my home were at least up to my waist. It was rather unfortunate that ponies barely grew up to that.

Then again, it made things like this easier. And weirder, but, most importantly, easier.

"No, please don't. You shouldn't have to thank me." I said, trying to keep a brave face at the filly who was starting to look at me like I was a big fluffy puppy that existed for cuddling.

She didn't respond to that, and after a few moments she covered herself with the blanket entirely. I was worried that she was crying, but I didn't hear her make any sounds besides the occasional hiccup. She was trying to keep herself from crying, I realized. She was too young for that.

I wasn't sure how long I sat like that, hand on a knee and arm and body separated by a slowly drying ball of fluff that shifted and squirmed every so often to get a better position on my side. It was long enough, though, for me to decide to rest my eyes a bit and lean back, some time after realizing that Candy Cane probably wasn't awake.

It wasn't a bad feeling, merely a strange one, to comfort a filly. I'v calmed down children in the past, and ponies the size of children. Blueberry was a odd case, though. Sleeping in the same room with her wasn't a issue, not nearly as much as it might have been if she was a minotaur. A double standered? Possibly, but did it matter?

I was in the middle of a old radio control building. There was a strange mare who was probably tinkering on something to the right of me and another who was undeniably broken and insane, and just outside there were two mutants and a bat pony. And they were all the closest things I had to friends at the moment. Or at least allies.

Two weeks ago, I never even thought of what a radio tower would look like, or what the true meaning of utter craziness meant. But here I was, half-asleep and ready to pass out entirely, in a small building under a radio tower, with craziness around me.

....

It's funny, things like that. It could be the reason they call it hindsight; when you look back, you want to kick yourself in the ass and try and do things differently.

...

But, I half-thought, would I have done anything differently?

....

I had no idea why I fell asleep smiling.

Eternal Chaos Has A Bad Sense Of Humor

Once, ponies sought to be kind, filled with laughter, generous, honest, and loyal. They believed that, if they all worked together, in harmony, they could achieve great things that they could not accomplish alone.

But they are much wiser now.

I didn't dream during that little nap. I rarely dreamed anyhow; this little trip in the wastelands seemed to spurned that on.

I had a nightmare, though.

I was standing in the middle of the commune, which was utterly empty of life or inhabitants. The electrical equipment was gone, and it didn't smell like anything had ever lived here. That sounded funny until you realized that the smell of goat was a horrid one.

The sky, on the other hand, was a shockingly dark green, clouds moving almost liquid-like above, swirling and twisting into itself like a pot of oily stew. It hurt my eyes to just look at it, frankly, so I tried to avoid looking at it.

I faced the walls where my own dwelling was, mostly out of instinct, but after a few stunned moments I realized I wasn't going to go up there.

The Draconequus, not the real one but the other that I saw in Watershed, was grinning up at me from the ground, seated on a pile of rubble, one pink eye and one glowing green one showing through the dark. It was curled over a rock like a lizard, and its forelimbs were under it's torso much like a cat or another feline.

I didn't say anything, considering I was too shocked to speak.

"Heeeeeeeellllllllllllloooooo~" she cooed out, voice like a pre-teen who chewed glass and smoked sandpaper, "-Ever Watchful. Like the scenery?"

Deeply unsettled, I replied to it directly. "No. Who and what are you, exactly?"

The little creature huffed and reared up on it's hind legs, balance superb despite the black-speckled white cow leg clearly a few inches longer then the beige pony one she sported. She looked at me with mild annoyance.

"Ooooh, don't give me that crap, you know what I am. But as for who I am-"

The figure suddenly appeared directly in front of me, and it's small grey-coated head, topped with a rough white mane, came up right around my waist.

Next thing I knew, something tugged on my right ankle hard enough for me to fall forward, barely catching myself. Groaning, I felt the creature actually walk up on my back, hooves digging into the flesh. I let out a small whimper when I realized that this wasn't a dream, that I really was feeling pain, and that I had no idea what was going on.

"-I'm your new boss. Name's Strife. No need to thank me from saving your hide from that mare. Good thing Sea Salt was around, eh? Girl needs to eat."

I felt the small body on my back shift around a bit, and I felt two hooves hit the top on my head, one crossed on top of the other.

"You are using me for a stool." I said, still trying to remember if I ate anything recently that could cause vivid hallucinations.

"Yep." the demigod said smugly.

I paused, dearly hoping to wake up any time soon.

"Are you real?"

Strife, if that was her name, let out a nasty chuckle.

"Real as you. Do you think you are real?

"Yes." I replied immediately.

"Well, progress." she drawled out,"Do you think you have free will?"

I didn't say anything, feeling a strange sort of guilt come over me.

Seemingly annoyed at my lack of response, she continued on. I felt my arms and legs become heavy and stiff, like they were made of rock.

"Think about it! Have you done anything recently just for your own sake? What is free will but the perfect expression of chaos? But you are one of the most orderly beings I have had the misfortune of meeting! No real drives or anything. You barely care that you got kicked out of your home by your dad! You comprehend it, but you don't really care. Do you even care about anything? Well, besides the ponies that're following you now. Fun fact, kiddo; the only one's that really believed in the magic of friendship had direct hooves in fucking up the world, and the kindest one of all fucked up the worse."

Suddenly, the lights went out. The skies dimmed to the point I could barely see in front of me, as if the sun itself had gone out.

I felt some weight on my back relieved, and in response I tried to move my limbs to get up, only to feel as if the weight all shifted to my limbs.

All I could do was pay attention to the rant that I could hear from all around me, laying in pitch blackness.

"Also, at last census, two out of three pony princesses are are confirmed corpses and the other one wants to die, and the only pony around in the wastes with enough raw power to take over for just one of them was a lost cause before the war. Trust me, sticking around with the amulet with a meat puppet and the bat brat will get you killed. All stuck in the old ways, can't get it out of their brains, the idea that everything's going to end up just hunky-dory. They all fucked up, and one day, the rotten carcass of the world before will be scrapped clean, and the only thing left for them to eat would be each other. "

Suddenly, I heard her breath in deeply, and when she spoke she sounded like she was speaking to a crowd. I couldn't help but notice that, with seemingly every other word, she was trying not to laugh.

" Ashes to ashes and pastels to paper, all hail the great glorious Celestia, dead but dreaming on her pillar in the sky! All hail great Luna, the bloated old moon-cow who's great and terrible might can't get her leathery corpse scraped off the ground! Let's all give one big round of applause to the great and and obscure Amora De Cadenza, her eternal majesty, she who let her husband die in Canterlot and she who let her cousin-in-law get chewed by tricksy goddesses who couldn't think her way out of a wet paper bag!"

Suddenly, her voice grew louder and had a distinct twang to it, and every word carried with it a sort of mocking glee.

"Ooooh, to make the Slaves Unto Crystals and the Crystals Unto Slaves, so that each were alike each other so that they were all the same for the point of trade! To the Crystals the Slaves went and to a Crystal they fled, led by their hearts until they dropped stone dead!

"All hail the Solipsist-Tyrant, the only unicorn in recent history with a good head on it's shoulders to know that not every bit of bloody dark magic was made by something with stripes! Praise the false lord of a empire who actually knew what it was dealing with and enjoyed every minute of it! Not a bit of guilt! Not a single unwavering thought! Oh, if only if it held it's throne, for I cannot hope but speculate on how well that wretched unicorn could do now with the local climate."

As she finished, she let out a terrible laugh, one that sounded horribly old and horribly aware of something that could ruin someone.

"O Mighty Pony Princess, Patron of Mental Illness and Protector of the Grandly Deluded, we thank you for empowering your children's malevolence!"

She stopped herself to let out a chuckle, but I could barely hear her voice over the sound of the dull roar of other voices repeating her words. All around me I could hear the groans of the tired and the afraid, the sounds of hooves shifting and swaying in musical rhythm, and the occasional wordless cry of exalted joy that was usually followed by a few quieter cries and murmurs of approval.

"What we do every day encounter the chaotic forces that blight our lives, we call on thee, sweet Sun Sultana, to lend us your pitiless strength so that stallions can keep on raping their wives and for mares to beat their boys, so the Great Cycle can continue as you intend from your glorious throne on high, beyond the sky and up with the pegasi!"

The great crowd of voices echoed her cry of "Sweet Sun", and the result of so many enraptured, drunken cries was a din that tore at my ears.

"When, you mighty embodiment of nature, the feeble zebras did wilt at hearing thy dreadful name, and the great emerald glory did sweep on your lands in fantastic spectral show of light and magic, it is with spittle-flecking triumph that your children did swear to follow the best of your chosen children to lead them! From the bright and industrious Red Eye to the righteous tyranny of Lord Ashery before him, to the technocracy of Mr. House to the great paragon of politics that was once Mr. Horse!"

The reverent humming and screaming of the unseen crowd changed into laughter, every bit as mindless and nasty as the worshipful tones it carried before.

"For when we hear that we, yes we, are finally free of the chaotic and the evil, we will rejoice with the glad tidings and offer up our simpering prayers so that thou may be puffed up with pride at a job well done. May the murders and suicide rates go up to levels unseen in recorded history and may Canterlot collapse as a symbol of your power, and may all the ponies and donkeys and zebras and griffons look up to the skies one day and bow there heads in worship in between thrusts of their blades and shafts as they reverentially rape and rampage across the world until all is dust!"

She breathed in. It sounded like something very old taking its last breath.

"Oh, as your will be done, oh merciful overseer of all, your will be done! May others fear to fear your name and learn to love your lovely embrace and your smothering downy feathers, and as you stifle their shrieking breaths of help and air with your caring strokes of sun-sickness and skin cancer you know your love for ponykind is for all to see!"

The crowd echos back with a simple song that I couldn't tell was made in mockery or respect:

Celestia loves me, that I know, for the real god told me so

Luna sees me in the night, to make sure I am not in fright

Twilight watches over me, that is true, for if not we are in rue

Rainbow watches from up ah-bove, and Fluttershy's voice is like a doves

Rarity and Applejack make good things, and let us praise what our faith brings

A pause came over the chorus, and a strangely out of place verse echoed out from it after a few seconds.

But our lord Strife is above them all, for she was the one who watched them fall

The crowd around me stilled, and suddenly, I could hear Strife breath behind my ears.

" Ever Watchful! Why don't yeah think about what I have told you! What can you do with it!"

I couldn't think of a way to respond to that. I had too many questions and I didn't know enough expletives to start each one off with.

"Think about it!"

I did.

"Do it more!"

Then something poked me in the chest-

"Think about it more!" Strife said, her voice raising in pitch as she let out a ear-stabbing guffaw.

-but that was was impossible, as I was laying down and-

-something grabbed my horns-

-no, one thing, small limbs each carrying the powers to shape worlds-

-she brought her legs down around my neck and started to pull herself around my upper back, like a snake-

-"Think about it!"-

-I tried but the pain-

-something cracked and my brain felt like it was on fire-

-"What does it mean!"-

-I almost said I didn't fucking know but I felt my head move up in a way that it shouldn't have moved and never did before-

-my arms couldn't move so when I felt some skin rip on my neck all I could do was sit there and scream-

-"Are you stupid?"-

-I felt skin on my neck tighten but there was nothing worth saying because my neck was open and I couldn't feel-

-"Answer me!" she roared, voice not how it should have been, baleful and full of timeless hate-

-I was going to die and I didn't know why-

-"Stupid bull!"-

-I felt my head being twisted around in a way it was never supposed to be, and for the first time of my life I felt my spine being moved-

-"Tell me!"-

-I think I was screaming for someone to help me when I realized I couldn't feel my body anymore when, for a few horrible moments, I just felt my head being flung in the air-

-"Fine, enjoy your flight!"-

-and then things went black.

I won't tell you how I felt about that dream. It's pretty obvious, and I would think it's clear that I had no clue about what most of it meant. It was pretty trippy and horrifying, though.

So let's skip ahead some, and pretend I didn't think about the dream after waking up.

I did, but there were more pressing matters.

"Hey, wake up. We got a problem."

I opened my eyes, groaning both from the rude awakening and the sudden soreness in my back. Who would've thought that falling asleep on a pile of junk would hurt?

The sight that greeted didn't make me feel better, either.

Blueberry, for one thing, looked like she was completely done , giving me a no-nonsense look that wasn't entirely judgmental but pretty much said that it was time for me to do something that I should have been doing already.

"Blueberry?" I said slowly, too stunned to really bother about asking about anything else.

"Sea Salt," she replied "wants to see you. Now."

I waited a few moments before bothering to stand up, but I soon realized that there was a weight on my right arm. A small, fuzzy one that was almost directly on top of it.

Candy Cane was asleep, and had, at some point, wrapped herself on it. The little blanket that should have been covering her was about a foot away, but apparently one of my limbs was warm enough.

I realized I could feel the little filly breathing. It was a strange feeling.

"Okay, that's adorable, but you need to get up." Blueberry said a little less firmly then before, "She's out cold. Just...move your arm a bit."

Candy Cane snored lightly right after Blueberry finished, as if in self defense.

Blueberry made a soft sighing noise, like she was utterly tired but amused at the same time.

"Okay, that's really adorable, but Watchful, you need to get out there."

I craned my neck so I could see out the semi-opened door, but couldn't see the giant seapony either way.

"What about her?" I said, trying to not disturb the filly's sleep even as I attempted to move the arm in the tyrannical grasp of Candy Cane.

"Can't you just wake her up?." she said, now trying to back peddle on how forcefully she wanted to approach this issue. "I mean, uh, are you sure you can't just poke her or something?"

I raised my arm slightly, mildly surprised at how the filly hugging it still managed to stay asleep even a foot off the ground. Candy Cane had surprisingly good grip for somepony with such tiny little legs.

"I don't want to." I admitted. "Do you?"

Blueberry blinked. "She's a heavy sleeper, huh."

I gave her a smart look.

"Ok, wow, she's a really heavy sleeper. If you stop doing that, I think I could move her off."

Obliging, I lowered my arm, trying not to wince at the dark blue magic that suddenly covered Candy Cane's hooves.

Blueberry made a tugging motion with her head, horn alight.

Candy Cane stirred lightly after she was pulled off my arm, but thankfully didn't wake up. It was a little saddening to watch the filly squirm around in mid-air, probably from the sudden cold, but Blueberry had the curtsy to levitate the discarded blanket nearby and wrap it around the filly before she carefully placed her next to me.

"She's really tiny." she said, before giving me another strange look. "Did you two talk about anything?"

I was still waking up, so I didn't feel bad when I yawned. "She feels sad about her father. Her mother ran a caravan and her father was one of her passengers. I don't think she knew him."

Blueberry reacted strongly to that, legs becoming stiff and and breathing becoming heavy. Was it because of her own situation with her father?

"Oh, Umbra told me something like that, her mother owning a caravan. She found Candy Cane on the side of the road, and her mom's dying words was to tell her to protect her."

She sounded agitated, but I didn't comment on it.

"Hey, Blueberry?"

"What, Watchful?" she said slowly in response, gaze blank.

"I am sorry if these last few days here have been hard on you. I really am."

She gave me a surprised look. "Huh? What? You didn't do anything."

I closed my eyes, hoping that she wouldn't look at them. "I just wish I could help more."

Blueberry frowned. "Watchful, I don't think there's anything you could help me with. Most of your problems exist only because I caused them in the first place."

"Blueberry, I don't think that's the case. I think you have your own issues, but so do I. Besides the differences between our own problems, there is only one real thing separating them; scale. I can find a home, but you have been suffering for a long time."

I was confused for a few seconds as to why she looked so startled, and slightly afraid when I noticed that her eyes were beginning to water.

"You are one of the most caring people I have ever met, Ever Watchful." she said, voice whispery and small, "I don't think I deserve you as a friend. I really don't. I have only made your life worse, I think."

I sighed. "Blueberry, you're not a bad pony. You may do bad things, but it's not your fault, it's the Alicorn Amulet. It's not your fault that I was forced out of my home. It's not your fault you killed a pony. It's not good, not at all, but I would like to think that I could help you."

"But it wasn't yours, don't you get that?" she said, sounding like she was trying to gather some anger in her voice. If we were talking about this at another time, when she wasn't moved to tears, she would probably be yelling at me. "You don't have any reason to help me."

"Blueberry, I don't know what I am doing. Do you get that?"

I let the question hang before continuing, and she didn't answer back.

"I don't know what I am doing. I haven't said anything about it, and I haven't really thought about it or made it clear to anyone else, but I was completely at loss for what I was going to do for a few horrible hours. I hated you when I first met you. I lied to you about thinking about you as a friend."

She looked at me, not so much shocked as horribly complacent. Her mouth was a thin line, more of a crease on her face then anything. She looked like she expected me to say that a long time ago.

"I lied to you about what you did during your blackouts. I did not comment on your flashes of anger or your odd reactions to certain things, and sometimes I guided you into doing what I wanted you to do. I did nothing, and I planned on doing nothing about it."

A flash of real anger, true anger, came over her.

"But I am ashamed of that now."

The anger left, leaving her looking at me like she wanted me to continue.

"Are you?" she said pointedly, "Do you really even want to be around me?"

"Blueberry, if I was a pony and not a minotaur, would you have bothered trying to get my help when we first met?"

She simply blinked, utterly caught off guard.

"I wouldn't have...I..."

After a few moments, she bit her lower lip as she turned to the side slightly.

"No."

"Blueberry, if I didn't meet you, chances are I would have either starved or die. If you didn't meet me, I wouldn't have had a chance in getting to Tauronto and you," I furrowed my brow, "you would not have made it past Braymont, I would think. I think I scared off the tribals."

She breathed in deeply as she turned back to me, looking at me like I wasn't actually there. "What are you getting at, Watchful?"

"Blueberry, you can't do this without me and I sure as hell can't do this without you. You made me kill a pony, but you also died and came back to life. We really need to rely on one another to do what we are here for."

As I caught her stupefied look, I remembered I had forgotten something.

"Getting to Tauronto, I mean. I think we would need each others help to get anything done. You have the face, but you need protection. I need the ability to not get shot when ponies see me."

Blueberry nodded. "I guess you are right. You are right."

With some finality, she looked up at me, a small smile on her face.

"I guess we are stuck together, huh? Friends?"

I was confused for a moment until it struck me. She was asking if I was her friend. A simple question, really. Did I want to see bad things happen to her now? Of course not. I trusted her enough that I wasn't concerned with being myself around her. That was something that I rarely did even what I wasn't a technical outcast from my own society.

I shrugged.

"Yes, Blueberry."

She beamed at me before turning her attention to Candy Cane. "What about Candy Cane? Is she coming along?"

I was startled that she was asking me. "Umbra would probably be the one to ask that. There's a town some ways from here, I would like to talk to her on our way there."

Her smile slackened somewhat. "Oh, yeah. You think we could leave here today? I think I have had enough of the ponies here."

I didn't want to rebuke her good mood. "Yes, I would think so. Umbra is a wildcard though, she seems dangerous and unpredictable."

"Like Sea Salt?" she said swiftly.

"Yes." I replied. She gave me a weak grin.

"Hey, go talk to her. She's really worried, and Dawn is under the impression that she's not leaving."

I made a single step for the door before she interrupted me.

"I'll sit next to Candy Cane until you come back." she said with newfound cheer as she moved to the spot I was sitting a few minutes ago, settling close to the bundle of cloth that covered the filly.

I was going to respond to her, perhaps with protest, but I didn't come up with anything decent. The two small ponies looked reasonable enough together, with Candy Cane's face looking less stressed with a warm body next to her and Blueberry looking much better then she did when she first woke me up.

So, with that in mind, I exited the building, to talk to the other pony I have managed to bring to tears in the ten day's I have been in the Wasteland.

Bahmut and Kujata

Bahmut and Kujata

"My mommy told me that everyone is equal in their own special way, and that donkeys and other species add to the world, even if it's in ways we can't see."

"Your mother was a liar, my dear. It seems I will have to see if we cannot get you into a more traditional classroom setting."

It took me a few moments to get used to the smell of blood that permeated the area now, thick and coldly metallic. It wasn't especially strong, giving the weather, but it was still there.

Sea Salt was a sight, too.

Somehow, against all logic, she managed to make it out of the water and a few good feet away from the river, and she her entire bulk was stretched out on solid ground. Her hide was almost entirely free of blood, of which, if the color of the grass she was laying near was any indication, showed that she must have cleaned herself off after eating the brahman.

Looking past her head, I saw that Umbra and Candy Cane were sitting around the roasting calf on the spit, talking quietly.

"Hmm? Ever Watchful?"

I couldn't help but be slightly startled at the huge head of the sea-pony raising itself off the ground slightly to look at me, voice remarkably quiet giving her size.

"It's me, yes." I answered, giving her a brisk nod. "Are you okay?"

"That-" she said, pausing to let out a wide-mouthed yawn, "-is a loaded question."

Going by her tone, that was supposed to be funny, but I didn't see the humor in it.

"Sea Salt, please. I don't think I can read emotions well. If there is something that you want to talk about, please tell me."

My bluntness seemed to startle her, and she answered me sounding far more subdued, almost afraid.

"Well, that is reasonable. I was wondering if you could do something for me, just one thing before I go off and attempt to swim towards the lakes."

I felt a wave of unease, just from the way she said it.

"Whatever you need."

For a few moments, it almost seemed like she was upset.

"Thank you." she said slowly, "And I am sorry for...most of my actions since I have known you."

"How did you eat that entire cow?" I said suddenly, my brain deciding at that moment to make that connection. "Were you really that hungry?"

A sickly look came over her face, and her head lowered slightly, like a weight was being placed on it.

"I found it prudent to...well, purge that last meal at the bridge a few hours after doing so. After that, well, yes, I was quite hungry."

Ah.

"Do you want to talk about that? The bridge?"

She shook her head, "No, I would rather not. Actually, can we please not talk about me? I think I have a good idea about...well, everything about myself. Including the pony-eating parts."

She was frowning lightly, but it wasn't because of me.

"That's fine. Did Dawn talk to you?" I asked, nodding once to make sure I respected her request.

A large grin broke out on her face. "She did! Quite the interesting creature, isn't she? At first I was a little afraid that I was going to scare in her in some way, just from how she acted, but then she undid that little scarf on her mouth!"

She paused, giving me a oddly amused look. "You didn't tell me that there were others like her. Knowing that a day or two ago would have been nice."

I raised a hand in the air, more of a gesture of admittance to my ignorance then anything else. "I didn't know ponies like Dawn existed until a day ago. She's a special case, and so are you, I would suppose. What did you two talk about, anyhow?"

She shrugged, or did something with her shoulders that resembled a shrug. It could have been something like a nonverbal sigh or something; I wasn't sure if I could be trusted to interpret body language on something as different from the norm as her.

"Nothing much. She had questions, of course; mostly about who I was and if I had any ill will towards her, but after I explained who I was she was calm enough. We did have a fascinating talk about Candy Cane and her batpony friend;" she stopped, and turned her head to the right slightly; the leather-winged mare near the barbecued brahman seemed to be in the middle of carving up the short loin, "and I just can't believe some of the things she told me! Is it really true that there are zombies walking around? I always assumed that they would be made by some sort of virus, but apparently they really are real! And the pegusi all abandoned the rest of the ponies and live in the clouds! It's all quite fascinating, really."

"It is. Do you know what Umbra is? I have never seen her kind before her." I said in return, somewhat happy that she wasn't especially upset at what she heard. I personally would have thought that anyone who lived before the war wouldn't cope well with the currant state of things, but that was just my own half-formed conclusion I came up with a long time ago.

She nickered, turning back to me entirely. "Oh, yes, I studied her kind almost exclusively for a month or so! She even has Lunar Guard armor! I only ever saw pictures of it before, it really is quite pretty!"

"What's a Lunar Guard?" I said, curious.

"Ask her herself!" Sea Salt replied, motioning behind me with a claw.

Blinking, I turned my head to the side, past Sea Salt and to the house.

There was no one at the fire pit.

"For a guy named Ever Watchful, you don't watch your back often."

I didn't spin around; it was more of a stumble in a circular motion.

"Whoa, buddy, watch where you'r stepping, you might tip over if you move like that." Umbra said jokingly.

She wasn't wearing anything a few moments ago, but then again a few moments ago I knew she wasn't behind me. She was wearing the same sort of shiny armor I recognized from the few split seconds I saw her in the docking bay.

The chest piece seemed to be in two parts; one was obviously more heavy, set on her front and colored a dark purple that was nearly black. It was decorated with flame-like designs that were a deep slate blue, framing the edges of the armor and seemingly engraved into it. Set in the middle of it, on top of her collarbone, was a striking oval object; a light blue gem with what resembled a slitted green cat's eye, one that almost seemed as real as Umbra's own eyes.

Her back was protected by a set of grey plates, which overlapped smoothly over her wings and tail. Her hooves were sheathed in light purple metal boots, with the front pair having a simple set of two large claws on it, sticking straight out of each of them. Both gauntlets had two small green gems set in the middle of them, for whatever reason I could not fathom.

She was giving me a grin that didn't look good on a pony face, toothy and leer-like.

"Please do not do that." I said, turning to her after sparing a look at Sea Salt, who seemed content to just look at the two of us. "Really, don't."

Snorting, Umbra waved a hoof in the air, and it didn't seem that the weighted weapon on her hooves bothered her at all.

"Not my fault if you can't see me." she said haughtily.

"Stop that." I said, my patience growing thin. "There's no reason to sneak up on others like that, with weapons and armor."

"I agree, that seems hardly fair."

Suddenly, Umbra looked a lot more nervous as she turned to look at Sea Salt, who was looking at her with mild disapproval.

"It's called a joke, you know, a-"

"It is hardly funny," Sea Salt said firmly, not quite like how would address a child but something close to it. From the angle I was at, I could actually see only one of her eyes, but I could tell she was giving Umbra a withering, piercing look that was akin to a superiors; not parental, but certainly judgmental. "to sneak up on another and then blame them. We were having a conversation."

Umbra blinked once, and after a few seconds pause she, without saying anything else, or did anything else, really, turned around and took off soundlessly towards the radio tower, making her way behind the slightly tilted structure in just a few moments. She didn't make a single sound as she did, even in her armor.

Sea Salt breathed in and let out a huff of indignation after watching the bay pony fly off, while I was just looking at the spot where Umbra was standing, still slightly amazed that she was silent throughout the entire flight.

"What a rude thing to do!" she half-muttered, turning her head over to me, "To leave like that!"

"I do not especially like her either, but she is strong and, as you could see, very fast. She also has been raising Candy Cane."

A look of mild resignation passed over her face. "Yes, she told me that. I wasn't especially happy to hear it, but she told me that she raised Candy Cane. The filly doesn't seem to be worse off from it."

She sighed lightly. "It's a pity she seems so immature herself!"

I had another word for it, but 'immature' fit nicely.

"I have to agree, she is a bit strange. She probably has her reasons, though." I said, mostly for my own benefit.

Sea Salt seemed to believe my words as much as I did, but tried to hide it anyway.

"Well, we all have our reasons for acting the way we do, yes? But that doesn't excuse such behavior." she said, now sounding like she was just trying to carry on a conversation.

"I would think that's the case, yes." I replied, in turn.

"But enough of that, let's talk about something more pleasant; you!"

Slightly startled, I looked at Sea Salts face, which was a just a great big grin.

I guess I didn't have a choice at this point.

"Sea Salt, how about I just ask my questions, and then you can ask away."

Nodding briskly, she laid her neck down, and even her shouldered slackened a little. Her right ear twitched slightly, for whatever reason, and I couldn't help but notice that her tail, as large and as lopsided it was sitting on one side on the ground, even seemed to be making a valiant effort at moving back and forth.

"How are you doing?"

She stopped wagging her tail.

"Didn't you ask me that already?" she said, sounding slightly puzzled.

"I asked you 'Are you okay'. They are different questions."

She pouted slightly. "Do you expect a different answer?"

Shrugging, I nodded. "Well, it's the difference between 'I am fine.' and 'I am not okay.', so, really, it depends on your own mood right now."

"Well, I am doing quite well, honestly." she said slowly, like she was unsure if there was a right answer to the question.

"Are you cold?"

Sea Salt shook her head slowly, almost in disbelief. "We are already talking about the weather?"

"It is the start of fall." I replied indomitably.

She shifted backwards slightly, and the tip of her tail was now touching the water.

"A little, but I would prefer to be a little cold then very warm. One could always warm up, but it is very hard to make one cooler."

Feeling like this was going to be a long conversation, I decided to sit down and cross my legs on a patch of grass closer to Sea Salt's head, so I didn't have to speak much louder then I normally did.

"I have to agree," I replied, not skipping a beat, "my own home wasn't well insulated, but there was plenty of blankets around if one needed them. Blueberry has the opposite idea, but that might just be her."

Sea Salt nodded sympathetically. "She is a little pony, though. I would imagine it would be a matter of scale, wouldn't it? I mean, you are, what, eight feet tall?"

I coughed lightly. "The horns add a bit of size. It's more like...seven feet, plus or minus a inch or two."

Mildly amused, she continued. "See? You are at about twice as tall as the average pony, and probably around three times as tall as Blueberry."

"What about yourself?" I said, to get the conversation off myself, "How tall is the average horse?"

A pleasantly surprised look came over her face, but for what, I couldn't tell. "Well, I was about five feet tall, but..."

After a few moments of preparation, she decided to take that as a cue to unfold her legs, standing up and arching her neck slightly as she did. At this angle, even without standing a few feet away from me, her head was above mine.

"I suppose I have grown some." she said, lowering her head slightly so her head was at level with mine.

It was surreal, seeing something even like a pony as tall as me.

...

Ah, now there's a conversation topic!

"Do you ever get the impression that ponies are strange?"

For a second, she looked delightfully surprised.

"I was going to ask you that!"

After a few moments, however, she answered the question in full.

"Sometimes. When I first arrived her, I had the most fascinating experience with a doorknob. I don't believe there are any other creatures with such mutability like them, either. A unicorn and a unicorn might have only earth pony offspring, or only unicorns, or simply one foal of each species! And they are so colorful, too! Isn't it strange that such creatures as small as they are are so prone to violence?"

"But arn't colorful animals often colorful as a warning to predators, often because they are dangerous themselves?"

I read that, somewhere. It seemed oddly appropriate.

Sea Salt found it profound, apparently, and she seemed to take that as something very interesting.

"That is a interesting thought, ponies as predators. But they didn't eat meat often, before the war, but there might be some truth in that."

"Did you eat meat?" I said carefully.

"Before the war? Only once." she said slowly, lowering her upper body on the ground again, face expressionless. "Ponies ate meat, but only fish and poultry products, like eggs. But I was inducted into a sort of club when I arrived in Tauronto, called a sorority. Apparently, part of becoming part of one involves one being pranked, and the day I was told I could join the leadership of the club took me and a few others to a restaurant that specialized in griffon food, and I had to eat something blindfolded."

I frowned. "What was it?"

"It was lamb, actually. Mutton was the word they used for it, but that just sounds rather impersonal. I never did find out how they obtained sheep for butchering."

"Did you like it, then?" I said, before I could squash the thought in my head.

"Actually...yes. The reaction from the group I was with was rather interesting. I remember it well. It was mostly laughter with a few gasps for air." she said fondly. "Admittedly, I wasn't familiar with Equestrian customs then, but it seemed funny at the time."

I wondered if all the ponies at that table had Sea Salts best interests at heart, but I didn't comment on it.

"What was that favor you wanted?"

She looked at me strangely, like I wasn't supposed to be the one who was asking that. "Well, I did have a few questions, but now that you mention it, I suppose..."

Her face suddenly slackened, and she lowered her head entirely to the ground.

She coughed lightly, and there was a funny aspect to her voice that wasn't there before.

"Well, um, would you mind giving me a hug?"

I blinked. And blinked again.

What kind of favor was that?

"Why do you think that's such a big thing to hold over someone? A hug?"

She looked mildly embarrassed. "Well, it is a little cold, and I haven't really...touched anything warm since I left the aquarium. I just feel a little cold now. Just...something warm."

What could bring something to a point where asking for a hug had to formatted like a request?

Standing up, I barely realized how utterly depressed she looked. She looked dimly hopeful, which just made it worse. She looked like she didn't have anything driving her, with no real goal in mind besides continuing to breath.

It was more of a friendly neck hold, then anything else. In retrospect, she probably didn't want to stand up again, and she didn't seem to be in the mood for me to try and do anything else then, well, hug her.

"Thank you. You'r like a big teddy bear." she mumbled weakly, but only after a few minutes of silence.

There was only so many ways one is able to respond to something like that. Being called anything fluffy by someone of the opposite gender should pretty much always send some good vibes though you, even if said opposite gendered person is on the brink of crying. In fact, even more so.

"Are you going to fall asleep?"

It was a honest question, and it was also one that really didn't need to be said just then.

But I said it anyway.

"...I always found it easier to sleep when I know someone else is nearby." she said slowly, like she was admitting a secret. "This isn't uncomfortable, is it? For you?"

A fascinating question! I seem to be a sponge for emotional tears: with Blueberry and Candy Cane, I would have thought this day couldn't become more charged with bad feelings. But here I was, half-holding a horse's neck and acting as a heat sink for said equine's body, all while in a kneeling position that made my back ache lightly.

"It's not." I lied. "If this is okay with you, it is okay with me."

"Thank you. I haven't gotten any sleep in days." she said slowly, breathing in deeply.

When she exhaled, that funny aspect to her voice appeared again. "If I don't see you again, because I would think you would be gone when I wake up..."

She stopped speaking for a moment, and for a few seconds she shivered. "You truly are a nice person, Ever Watchful. I would think that, if you were born at a different time, we could have been friends."

"Do you want to be friends?" I said lowly, slightly amused at the whole situation at hand.

"That...would be nice."

She said that last part sleepily, because by the time she was finished talking that last hard c was just a wheezy snoring sound.

I knew she was asleep then; I didn't really question it. She was awake for at least two days straight, almost. She was probably going to sleep most of the day away.

But I didn't get up.

I don't think it was a selfless thing to do, holding on to comfort her. I didn't know another word for it, though. I couldn't say I pitied her, but....

.....I only got up when I saw two little ponies walk out of the radio tower, after what seemed like a hour or so just sitting out, besides a river, doing nothing but helping someone sleep better.

I could bore you over a lot of details about other things, but almost none of them are really important, on the grand scale of things.

So let's skip ahead some again, to my last conversation with Nightcore and at the point where the four of us were to leave.

To Think, That They Might Actually Get Out Of That House Soon

" Now, prince, what was all that funny business about a hillside hideout?"

"Forget about it. In all honesty, I cannot believe I actually mentioned it to you."

"Hmm? Why is that, Blueblood?"

"I don't know a single one of us who would like to see you alive after all this is done and over with."

"Do you think I could get some sort of job working for the Purebreds?"

The office didn't smell any better, even hours after Nightcore stopped smoking. Blueberry and Candy Cane were getting ready in the house, Sea Salt had taken off into the river a hour or so ago, and Umbra was off flying around and doing whatever dead bat ponies did when they were alone.

That left me and Nightcore to talk things over.

I didn't like what I was hearing.

"I don't think it would work." she sighed, not even bothering to sugercoat her words, "I mean, I would think you could, they always want muscle, but you don't plan on actually staying in Tauronto, right?"

"Where else would I go?" I said, not appreciating her tone.

"Can you at least fight?"

I frowned. "I can. I used to be a guard in my own village."

"But this is the wasteland." she half-exhaled, "You seem like a nice colt, but you don't look like you can fight."

I was going to correct her word choice, but I decided against it. There were bigger topics to tackle.

"I can fight." I repeated, exasperated.

"You didn't bring any weapons with you." she noted. "That little ripper-cutter you brought with you isn't good for anything besides cutting boxes."

"Blueberry has a sort of energy pistol with her." I said in a explanatory manner. "It is very effective. And Umbra seems to be a very good fighter."

"But you have no weapons with you. Or armor." she said once more, leaning forward slightly, "How do you expect to survive?" She motioned over to my shoulders, "I can see you've been hit with a bullet, but you look clean enough that I can tell you've never been in a real fight before. One good shot could kill you, you know. One pistol in the back could end you."

Putting a hand on my forehead to wipe a bit of dust off it, I breathed in deeply.

"It doesn't matter at this point. Please, if you are a member of a extablished society of ponies, I would deeply appreciate it if you helped me become integrated in it. It seems structured enough that I could deal with it."

I balled my free hand in a fist.

"I just want to get back to a state of living like I had before I was exiled. I just want to be able to know that the place I fall asleep in one day will be the same on I will sleep in the next. Is that too much?"

Nightcore's daze softened. She looked sorry, almost. Like how some would look at a wounded animal that was on it's last legs.

It might have been the most insulting look I have ever been given.

"I can respect that, I do, actually. But you can't...I don't mean to be rude, but you can't just walk around without any means of defending yourself."

Almost violently, I tapped the bottom of my left horn. "I have these."

Without missing a beat, I raised my free arm and flexed. I didn't consider myself very muscular, but never less the muscle that shifted around under the skin on my arm seemed to be more then what Nightcore had on her entire body.

"And I have these. I can defend myself."

Nightcore blew out some air from the side of her mouth.

"I guess you are right. So, you want to join with the Purebreds, huh? You don't have any caps, so you will have to do something to get in. Even the lowest of their servants have to do something to walk into places they own if they don't want to end up in chains."

I smiled. There wasn't any happiness meant by it, but it simply a way to show that I already had a solution.

"Would taking out a traitor to the Purebred be enough?"

"Depends." Nightcore said, tone now purely diplomatic. She smiled slightly.

"Does the name Princess Cheesecake mean anything to you?"

She took a swift breath. It sounded like a gasp.

"You killed her? Cheesecake Crumbles. Blond mare with white coat?"

I nodded. Saying that I killed her by proxy would've been more appropriate, but it really didn't matter at this point.

Nightcore let out a harsh noise, not really a laugh but not really a hiss.

"Ug, I liked her, too. She called herself 'princess'? She was stupid, then."

Nightcore looked at me, looking regretful in a distant sort of way.

"She was the one who made that mess in Watershed, then?"

I rolled my shoulders. "Mostly. From what I saw, there was three groups. One was the Purebred members under a pony named Troubadour, and the others were a few griffons and the ponies that followed Cheesecake."

Nightcore scowled. "Troubadour? You met him?"

I nodded, glad to see her express roughly the same amount of dislike for the stallion as I did.

"Unfortunately. I gave him a letter that Charnel ga-"

"What!" Nightcore barked, hair bobbing as she raised her upper body on top of the desk, so she could look at me in my eyes, "Charnel gave you what?"

I stood tall, knowing what Nightcore was doing. She was trying to intimidate me, there wasn't another word for it. She looked angry, and with her horn and her hair and with that furious expression she almost looked like she demanded respect, but I could see that her belly juggled lightly as she made that sudden movement and it sounded like she was unused to raising her voice.

I didn't like her. I decided that a while ago, as much as I hated to admit it. I didn't hate her, but I didn't especially trust her, as apposed to Dawn.

"She gave me a letter. She said it was a wedding invitation. Something about a pony named Boffenspark."

Nightcore's hard look didn't soften. "You told me you met Charnel; not anything about doing anything for her."

"Well, I did. I was captured by ponies under her, and I was told to take a letter to a member of the Purebred. I did that. It wasn't my real decision, she had guns pointed at me."

Nightcore didn't look especially pleased at my confession. "That note was a threat, probably. Charnel has no friends in the Pure. If she said she was coming, then that letter was probably a threat against his life."

I raised a eyebrow, remembering something I had almost forgotten.

"Charnel said she was a sister to the bride. Pyra, I think."

Nightcore shook her head, sinking back into her seat slightly. "That's a lie, actually. A joke."

"I see." I replied, not really seeing the joke. "But, I must ask again, it is possible for me to get a job working for the Purebreds?"

Nightcore gave me a rather fascinating look. She looked disinterested at me, like this entire conversation was something that needed to be done but wasn't a top priority. She also looked amused.

"Well, you can break into rooms easy enough."

Something froze in me. It might have been my heart, or lungs. Or blood. But there was a heavy weight there that wasn't there a few moments ago.

I think I started to break out in cold sweat.

Nightcore just propped her head up on the table with her elbows, grinning at me like I was a small child who had a hand in her cookie jar and with another in her purse.

"You think I'm as paranoid as I am and wouldn't leave a little string on top of my bedroom door? For shame."

I gulped lightly, and moved away from the desk instinctively.

"But you are not here to kill me." she continued casually, as if we were still talking about a normal, every day topic. "You even admitted you met Charnel. You even claim to have done a favor for her. So unless you'r suicidal or really, really devoted to her, you just stumbled into my home and invaded my personal space by yourselves. And Charnel doesn't have anyone devoted to her, none that are alive anyway."

I made a brief little nod.

Nightcore smiled.

"I'm not going to hurt you. But, considering that you're not denying me, I want you to carry something for me. I mean, I have let you, Blueberry and Candy Cane stay at my home, and because you have helped clean this place up, I'm going to let Blueberry Cream's foul behavior slide. But I still delivered that little message of yours. That leaves you in debt."

Without missing a beat, she leaned back, grinning in that sort of way that signified that there wasn't anything funny going on.

"So, I have a deal. In exchange for me giving my word, that you are, in fact, good for stuff and will not, in any way, start wreaking things as soon as you step into Purebred territory, you will stop Charnel screwing things up in Tauronto and deliver something to Boffenspark for me."

I shrugged my shoulders and raised my arms slightly, as a signal for her to get along with it.

The object she levitated out from under the desk was rather odd. It was rectangular and black, with sharp edges on it's sides that made it look like it was some sort of club. It didn't seem to be either wooden or plastic, but the smooth curved lines etched in it's surface, spirals and knotty twists interlined with more solid lines and geometric shapes, told me it probably wasn't made of metal. It was roughly half the length of my arm and half it's width, but it had a sense that it was more then what it looked like.

Nightcore looked at the object, unease starting to slip into her expression.

"Don't bother trying to break it; it's not even a real box." she said, after looking over the strange object held in her magic, seemingly checking for possible damage on it. "The outer part has so many inlayed spells on it you would probably need a few thousand pounds of explosives to crack it open, and the inner part has spells so esoteric lining it that even if one manages to break it you're not going to survive the magical protections that would activate."

"It's hollow?" I asked, more surprised at it containing something than anything else.

It didn't look like a box, anyway.

"It's sealed up tight, yeah." she muttered reflexively. "There's a reason for it."

"So really, I am giving this 'Boffenspark' pony what is inside it." I said, mostly for my own sake. "So what's in it? You seem to know about it well enough."

Nightcore righted herself, giving me a thoughtful look.

"I don't know." she said sheepishly, "But you should know that this-" she tapped the side of the object, causing it to make a dull ringing sound, "-is deep magic. This has the hallmarks of military-grade magical protection, and whatever inside it isn't supposed to see the light of day ever again."

"Where did you find it?" I asked, curious.

Nightcore raised a eyebrow. "I didn't, it's Boffensparks; I just borrowed it to see if I could crack it. I have a few books on magic and some training myself, but this is out of my league. This probably had a dozen unicorns busy for months just to make the basic enchantments. He said he found it in some bunker or another, but I would guess it's some military project or state secret or something.."

Slowly, I reached out to take the object; box, really, from off the table. It was surprisingly light; it really did seem to be hollow.

"Why do you want me to take it to him?" I asked, trying to sound unbiased.

Nightcore gave me a simply inexpressive look, one that wasn't precisely angry so much as done, like I was bringing up some old argument that had long since been forgotten.

"I was once part of a little group that kept trying to kill him. I switched sides after a while. Charnel didn't. It wouldn't be polite for me to show up when he's about to get married."

Well, that wasn't what I expected.

"He let you live after you tried to kill him?" I said, baffled and wondering if I had heard that correctly.

Impossibly, she continued talking in the same casual tone. "Yeah. He's like that. Well, really, it was because I switched sides that I got away alive. I mean, if you met the guy, you would probably understand why someone would want him dead. Boffenspark's annoying."

"But he let you borrow some of his things. After you tried to kill him." I replied weakly.

Nightcore shrugged lightly. "Yeah. It's a long story. It's over. There's no need bothering you with it. Just deliver it and ask nicely for a job."

"You don't look like a pony who would try to kill another pony. Or anything."

She just shrugged at me, the sides of her mouth flat lines. "You don't know me very well, then."

And that was my cue to stop questioning her. Taking the pillar-like object under my arm, I nodded to her, trying to hide the discomfort I was starting to feel around her.

Before I left the room, I paused. I had forgotten to say something.

"Thank you."

I waited for a few moments before I left the building.

Nightcore didn't answer back.

The inside of the house was quieter then I expected it to be, curiously absent of sound. Even when I placed the pillar-thing down in the parlor, next to that book that Blueberry brought with her, I went upstairs.

When I walked in our little room, I wasn't sure what to expect.

"So, whatch'a think?"

It wasn't Blueberry wearing her Amulet and Steel Ranger robes, anyway.

At first, I was stunned, simply hanging around the doorway of the room that happened to contain a blue pony with creepy red eyes that I was utterly convinced was going to snap at any moment.

I didn't say anything until she laughed off my abject horror, trotting over towards me.

"Blueberry, why are you wearing the Amulet?" I said quietly. "How can you still wear it after what happened?"

She paused, frowned, and with a small click-clack sound the horrid thing on her neck was removed and placed in one of the bags on the floor.

"It's mine." she said, somehow having the strength to look at me in the eyes, even when her own were unnaturally red, "And I can do what I want to do. It's my own choice. I'm not upset right now. I am doing just fine, actually."

The only reason I wasn't immediately reaching for the hovering bejeweled thing at her side was because how honest she sounded.

"Blueberry, I understand that, but if what Nightcore told me is true, you probably shouldn't wear it."

At that, she just raised her head out from her bags, blew some hair from over her eyes, and huffed lightly.

"It's my choice, Watchful. I can make my own choices."

"Blueberry, that Amulet isn't right. It's bad, and Nightc-"

"I don't really trust Nightcore."

I almost said 'I don't either', but I didn't have the chance to do so, as someone else spoke up behind me after prodding me in the back of my right knee.

"Mister Watchful, am I adorable?"

I turned around to see a little tan filly clad in a pair of pink footie pajamas.

Candy Cane stared up at me with big brown eyes, pouting slightly. She was standing on her hind legs, hooves up to her chest like a rabbit.

"Yes, yes you are." I said, trying to keep my dignity intact.

I think Blueberry was the source of the squealing noise behind me.

"Well, I'm glad." Dawn said as she slowly sidestepped Candy Cane and into the room, "At least it's something warm for her, anyway."

I took pause at the pesudomare's entrance, and Blueberry looked a little unnerved herself. But that might have simply been because of her own words earlier. At the moment, she was wearing just a cloak and scarf, around the mouth of course, but it was still the lightest-layered outfit I had yet to see her in.

"Sorry, Dawn, about the trouble." I spoke up, bowing slightly. "I hope we haven't done too much damage here."

To my surprise, the mare blinked, looking astonished. "Oh, no, you have been fine. Really, this has been quite eventful. And you are all wonderful po-people," she said, stumbling slightly when she looked at me once more, "and I am quite glad to have met you."

"Dawn, I don't think I said thank you for the rarebit." Blueberry said, sounding subdued as she walked over to the mare. After a few moments, she blinked, and a somewhat remorseful look passed over her face. "Thank you."

"Oh, no, please don't thank me; I merely didn't want you wake up to-"

Blueberry raised her hoof, and for a few seconds she looked rather upset at herself. "Please, don't. Nothing about what happened to me was your fault. I was b-" she suddenly realized that Candy Cane was still in the room, observing the conversation quietly, "I have been a bad guest here this entire time. I have insulted you multiple times. I didn't deserve a bit of what hospitality you gave me."

I didn't know what to say, and Candy Cane just made her way over to the beds, and as such, Dawn was one to reply to her.

"Well, now we know each other." she said, remarkably chipper, "and now we are on equal footing with one another. Now, there is the issue of what you will be taking with you to Tauronto."

I coughed lightly. "Well, Nightcore already gave me a object she want's to de-"

"No, no, not that old thing! I mean food and cloths." Dawn said, waving a hoof to cut me off, leaving me surprised and slightly uncomfortable. "You brought almost nothing with you, and winter is coming along, and it would be just dreadful of me to leave you three out in the cold without some foodstuffs and warm clothing."

Blueberry spoke up, sounding slightly upset. "I don't think it would be right if we took any more from you two, really, its not right."

"I have to agree. It has not been fair for us to take so much from you already."

Dawn blinked owlishly, and looked directly at Candy Cane after a few moments of deliberation.

"Well;" she said slowly, now truly speaking her mind, "I would think that Candy Cane has no extra clothing, correct?"

Candy Cane nodded her little head before I could agree with Dawn first.

"Well, then." she continued, now a bit subdued. "I have a few sets of clothing around prepared for a filly of her size, and that dresser there, Blueberry, has plenty of clean cloths that you are free to take."

Astonished, Blueberry took a step away from Dawn. "But, really, I am fine-"

"You will be ended if you wear that cloak in Tauronto." she said firmly, but her wording was light enough to make me aware that she still recognized that Candy Cane was in the room. "And it is far too cold for you to be running around without warm clothes, Blueberry Cream."

Blueberry, bewildered, could only nod.

"Thank you, Dawn. Again."

She looked at me, and I guess she could have been smiling. "Oh, no, there's no reason to thank me."

I wasn't sure about what to say next. Neither did Blueberry.

Luckily, Candy Cane existed.

"Miss Dawn, can I get something to drink?" she said sweetly, jumping off the bed softly.

Bring a hoof up to her mouth, the mare nodded quickly. "Oh, of course dear."

Moving to the side so that Candy Cane had a better access to the doorway, the two ponies exited the room and made there way down the hall.

Blueberry waited until she heard them get to the bottom staircase to go over to the window before she started to get visibly upset.

"That wasn't fair." she mumbled, looking sullenly at her own bags as she trotted over to them, "That wasn't fair at all. Now I can't hate her. She's giving us clothing and food."

I shrugged, looking over at my own bag, which seemed to have been straightened up since I last left it.

"Well, if it means anything, I dislike Umbra too." I said, doing my best to sound upbeat, "So there is a pony you can hate with reason."

Blueberry looked up at me, huffing lightly. "See, that's it. In the last few days, I have been getting angry at people I should be able to trust. And I don't want to speak badly of them when I am still full from eating a meal one of them made for me!"

I nodded slightly, motioning over to the vanity mirror. "I will get our things in order, you can go through some of that clothing in that dresser if you want."

I tipped my head forward slightly, more of a bowing motion than anything else, and sat down on the ground to go through our collective worldly possessions.

One recollector, a ripper-knife, a medical kit, a small bag filled with Sea Salts things, and dried food and tea bags. And a black box that contained Blueberry's memory orbs.

That was my bag.

Blueberry had an Alicorn Amulet, a total of fifteen cybernetic parts that had greasy stains around them that made me wince when I saw them, none of which were bigger then my arm, two small handbags that were filled with varying screwdrivers and screws each, an ornate ivory comb, three more bags containing large bullets of the sort that probably did not fit into a normal gun, two unopened packets of gum, fifteen bits, twenty bottlecaps, a sharp tooth of an origin I wasn't sure of, some scattered papers that seemed to be about magical technology, Self Defense, and a photo, wrapped in a thin layer of protective plastic.

The last one was a new one for me.

It wasn't especially old, like the one I saw in the Seahorse. Much like that photo in the Seahorse, however, it was a family photo.

The mare in the photo was giving the camera an amused look, one that clashed with her otherwise somber-looking garb. Her hair was darker then her coat and was worn long, and other then looking a little weary around the edges she looked content at the moment, eyes narrowed in a slight squint and mouth a knowing smirk. She was wearing what seemed to be a sort of sash, of a bright color going by the light shade of grey it was in the photo, and a robe with a light flaxen pattern around the neck. She was standing next to a small pedestal which held a small variety of items laid across it carefully in a pile; tiny shield, a pen, and what looked to be a thin knife; each had the apple-icon that seemed to be on much of the Steel Ranger's attire somewhere on it.

Besides the pedestal, on the other hand, was a filly; not quite a foal but not an adult. She looked almost exactly like the mare, only happier looking and plumper, and if it were not for the little nubby horn on her head and her hair having two different shades in it she could have been a clone. Said filly had a sash akin to the one the mare was wearing, but she also wore a little bow in her hair, to keep the bun it was in together,and was grinning widely at the camera.

"Oh, hey, you found that old photo, huh?"

I looked up. Blueberry was now fiddling around with the stacks of clothes she had made, picking out things that looked decently sized for her. She was looking a bit more cheerful now, and apparently was happy I had picked the photo up.

"It's a nice one. Is that your mother? Blueberry Sabre?"

She nodded lightly. "Yeah. It's the day she ascended to be the Elder. That's why there's all that goofy ceremony stuff around her. The Fillydelphia chapter has this little tradition in which every new Elder gets propped up in that toga thing and poses with some objects that symbolize the purpose Steel Rangers. The shield's to protect the weak, the sword is to keep back invaders, and the quill is to keep records of what happens in Equestria."

Ah. Totems for a tribe. Appropriate, really.

"The two of you look really similar."

It was a little uncanny, really. Sabre, even in a photograph, reminded me of Blueberry in a rather uncomfortable way. It was the smile. I kept expecting to see the Amulet around her neck.

Blueberry narrowed her eyes at me, looking at the photo as closely as she could from where she was.

"Eh."

Feeling that I was't going to get a better answer out of her, I carefully placed the photo back in her little pile.

"So, between one and ten, how does this look?"

I looked up, and blinked.

Blueberry seemed to have a thing for black, I was starting to realize. She was wearing a woolly black shirt with a hood (a hoodie? Is that a real word?), and it looked like the interior was fuzzy, going by how the inner part of the hood looked. She was wearing little blue boot things that seemed put another inch on her height, along with little purple socks.

"Is it warm?"

She rolled her eyes. "I am asking you how it looks."

"Blueberry, minotaur's don't normally wear cloths. I don't think ponies do either." I said slowly. "I don't think I can judge."

"Just tell me how it looks." she replied, now looking a little annoyed.

"It looks warm." I said, not knowing what else to say. "And comfortable."

Blueberry didn't frown at me. It was too mild to be a frown. "Ugg, fine. Really, you can't tell me if this looks good or not?"

"You could ask Dawn."

"Dawn would just say that I-"

A rough feminine voice, one I was starting to become more familiar with in a dreadful sort of way, rang out behind me.

"You look fine."

As Umbra fluttered in on those tattered wings of hers, armor not seeming to be any issue in flight, I was starting to wonder just how much traffic this room was going to have today.

"Where have you been?" I asked first, less perturbed by the bat-pony's arrival then Blueberry was.

"Flying." Umbra replied flatly, staring at me for a few moments before turning her attention to Blueberry. "And you look fine. Might want to lose the socks, but you're fine."

Blueberry looked at her hooves. "But I like the socks."

"It's too much. The robe's fine, but not the socks or shoes." the bat mare said, nonplussed. "So, when do you two think you are all ready to leave?"

Blueberry said "An hour or two." but I said "An hour.", so for a few seconds, we just stared at each other.

"Glad to see you two have worked out a good plan." she said, apparently not amused. "So, we're taking that weird thing Nightcore picked up from the Purebreds, right?"

Blueberry gave me a quick look of befuddlement before I coughed lightly and turned to Umbra entirely.

"I was going to ask you about that. But, if I may ask, what's the reason between the antagonism between the Reavers and the Purebreds?"

Furrowing her brow in a funny way, Umbra lowered her head slightly, like she was looking at something through distorted glass. "Antagonism is a funny word to use there. But, really, you don't know? The Purebred's used to be a bunch of little tribes and factions, but they got united about sixty years back by a stallion named Whitemane. Whitemane got offed ten years ago, and those were good years. But in the last three, Boffenspark's been the leader, and he hates ghouls. Besides, they want the whole city, and a lot of it has ghouls in it. Reavers got to protect what's their own, after all."

"Who's Boffenspark?" I almost said, but Blueberry did it for me.

Umbra snorted. "Friggen weirdo. Came out of nowhere with a bunch of robots, offed about half the incumbents for the title of King, and has been pretty much been a freak. Pretty sure he was a jester or something, there's no way he got that far up in that pit of infighting and betrayals on his own. Pyra's the real power, though. Kinda bitchy, good with magic."

Something clicked in my mind. I wasn't sure what it was.

"Wait, I heard something about a cult once."

Umbra perked up slightly, ears actually standing up straight and mouth forming a shape that wasn't a frown for once.

"The Scions? Their fun. Fun but weird. They run a orphanage."

Blueberry coughed lightly.

"So, if their a cult, I mean, what do they worship? I don't think I ever learned that part."

Umbra let out a throaty chuckle.

It was not a sound that was enjoyable to hear.

It was not a sound that was a sign that all was right with the world. It was sort of the opposite of that.

"Nightmare Moon."

Interlogue: Behold, Tauronto?

Perhaps this might be a good place to stop, and go forward a bit.

But that belays the question; why here? Umbra just said something that was pretty interesting, and there seems like there needs to be a bit more done before there's any sort of flash forward or anything like that!

Well, to put it simply, at the time, there isn't much more to say about my stay at Nightcore's and Glory's household. Not enough to keep one's attention, anyway.

But, I suppose, some things could be cleared up.

For instance, why would I want to become a employee of the Purebreds? I didn't want to be associated with slavers. Who would be so insane to do such a thing if one didn't have any other options?

Now, that isn't to say that I didn't have any other options, but none of them looked good. I suppose I could say that I wanted structure of some kind. There were other possible ideas in my head about what I could do when I actually reached the city; but to narrow down that list, I will say that they all involved either fighting or labor.

Let's be honest here; I didn't have much going for me besides my own body. Most of my skill set involves me standing still and looking menacing.

As far as I can tell, the Pure are the one real power in Tauronto I would have a chance at associating myself with in a positive way. The Reavers seemed to be ghoul-only and the Scions seemed to be some sort of strange cult, and I cannot afford to be independent.

Speaking of bodies, perhaps it is best to talk about my traveling companions.

There was Umbra, the not-ghoul. Dodgy and mean, it's hard for me to trust her, at this point, especially going by just her actions. She's rude. She's creepy. She smells like old leather and looks like it to. But she's an ally. And with her came Candy Cane, a filly. A little filly that doesn't have any parents, one that somehow ended up under the care of said dodgy bat-pony.

Both were high on my list of concerns, behind Sea Salt and Blueberry, of course.

Three little ponies and a horse-fish-thing. That was my social circle, at this point. Gone where the days when I could just talk to Copper Pot about what silly things he said he heard on the radio or to Brass about...things.

But that was just another issue, actually. I was lied to, and that lie was part of my entire motivation for leaving my home in the direction I did. Bitter Truth, the Elder, was a liar. This went against everything I was ever told, growing up. He was a cheerful liar, however. That might have been the worse part.

Well, no, the worst part might have been the fact that Umbra clearly didn't like me, and that, perhaps, she might have a reason for that. That ghoul in Watershed still bothers me, just from how she reacted to the name of the Elder. With every step I take outside the commune, I seem to learn something that makes my old world view just a little more unrealistic.

To sum up my journey so far, I was kicked out of my home without warning because I didn't pass a simplistic test I haven't been prepared for. Then, I discover that my traveling companion is a sociopath, but also has a magical doohickey that caused said sociopathic thoughts and actions. Then, after traveling through a town filled with tribal cannibals, we stopped at an illogically overengineered aquarium filled with mutated fish. Then said companion died because of a giant horse-fish creature thing, who later turns out to be one of the most level heads I have seen on a equine, and then came back to life thanks to the evil amulet I mentioned earlier.

Then, we finally made it to a nice looking town, where I had a insane dream about a draconequus and had ponies try to kill me later at night and a noblepony extort a letter off me that I almost forgotten about. After running to take shelter from a tank that attacked the town for some unknown reason, Blueberry and I stumble on a filly and two corpses, which never got explained to me. Then I run into a bat-pony, which might be a vampire or ghoul or something weird, because if there's anything I can't get from ponies, it's an explanation.

Then Blueberry has a mental episode, which leads to the two of us finding Watershed being fought over by what seemed to be three different groups that weren't there the day before. After chatting with a ghoul that later seemed to react to my grandfathers name with horror, I wandered into the town, found myself sleeping in a rotten house, and later had a chat with a young griffon that has loyalties to a pony I don't know anything about still. Then, I carefully made my way outside, evaded ponies with guns, and later humiliated a pony with guns larger than anyone else in the area, which made her the leader, apparently. After humiliating said pony in a way that seemed to involve divine intervention, or perhaps the opposite of divine intervention, anyway, Sea Salt ate said leader pony and her subordinates, which somehow makes more sense to me then my sudden bout of invincibility.

Later, after waking up in a dark room surrounded by ponies and one griffon, I got directions from said griffon to a house that might be willing to shelter Blueberry and Candy Cane, and also myself. Said house, owned by a horrifically mutated earth pony (?) and a ambiguously moral unicorn, happened to be very comfortable to me but very uncomfortable to my blue traveling companion, who promptly lost her shit after a day in the house and needed to be snapped out of her funk by me, by snapping her neck.

Yes, I did that. Giving that she already made me do that once, it's morbidly appropriate.

But, to continue on with the farce that happens to be my life for the last two weeks, I then attempted to talk to Umbra, who also showed up at the house a hour or so before Blueberry's incident, which failed miserably, so I then made small talk with the mutated horse and the morally ambiguous unicorn, and it says something that the pony eating horse creature continued to be a better conversationalist then the unicorn I chose to trust that day. Said unicorn also continued to be as unhelpful as possible in telling me what, exactly, she worked for, even when I was asking to join said group.

It's been two weeks since I left the commune, and as it is, I am almost exactly how I left it, physically. I expected a lot more fighting in the wasteland then I had gotten, and I have almost nothing physical to show for my continued survival besides Blueberry's bags of bullets.

Apparently, Tauronto is mostly controlled by a group of ponies, supposedly pro-unicorns, that control a wide variety of things, like slaves and trade. There are also a bunch of ghouls that live in a tower, and a cult that worships something that apparently doesn't exist, according to Blueberry.

I could list all my unanswered questions for you.

In fact, I'm going to do so.

What was the reason behind destroying Watershed? What are the Purebreds, really? What happened to the minotaurs in Tauronto? Why would the Elder lie to me? What's a Balefire Dragon? Why is Umbra such a brat, and what's a Reaver, really, besides a ghoul with guns? Who's this 'Ed' fellow, anyway, or that Boffenspark for that matter? What's the deal with Charnel and Nightcore, and who's this strange stallion that raised the two? How am I supposed to survive walking into the city, if it's so dangerous? What's the big deal about the Crystal Empire? How and why is a little draconequus following me?

Well, as funny as it sounds, all those questions get answered when I go to Tauronto.

And more, unfortunately.

A Land of Maple Syrup And Frozen Tears

"All my friends are here!"

....

"And Applejack is here too, I guess."

It took three hours after we left the safety of the radio tower before my little group arrived at the little town Nightcore directed us. Also, within those three hours, being the reasonable individual I am, I became tempted to convince Blueberry to start running in the other direction and see whither or not Red Eye still has job openings.

But, perhaps some context for that last statement might be needed.

It was roughly noon when we left. Nightcore directed us, well, Blueberry and I, to a bridge that wasn't more then twenty minutes away on foot. The road it was connected to apparently wasn't well used and, accordingly, safe enough to let our guard down, as the road itself apparently led down near Tauronto itself.

Blueberry wasn't looking well, with two moderately sized bags strapped to her sides and clad in a thick black robe, one that looked suspiciously like one I saw Dawn wear but in a smaller size. She looked a little tired, but it might have been what little lighting the cloud-covered sky gave to everything else.

Candy Cane, on the other hand, looked like a little mummy, with all but her eyes covered in either a woolen jacket, a small hat, a little pink scarf, or in one of four little purple rubber booties. While it was a little discerning as to why Dawn had foal-sized clothing, it was rather nice that she could walk around without risk of her stepping on something sharp.

Umbra, as apposed to walking, just flew behind us the whole time, high enough in the air to the point where she looked like a hazy dot in the sky. She said it was so she could get a better view of our surroundings, but considering that the area around the road was as dead and grey as anything else, I didn't believe her.

I, on the other hand, was the designated load-carrier, with two bags hanging off each of my arms and another slipped on my left horn. It wasn't hard to heft around, but my pace had to be a little slower and more deliberate then normal, which put me at moving at roughly the same place as Blueberry.

No one had much to say to each other. Candy Cane was quiet but didn't look especially unhappy, Blueberry just didn't look like she wanted to talk, and I didn't want to either, and the only topic that I would have deemed to be good conversation involved things that Umbra would know more about then I did. And Umbra was a few dozen feet in the air, following us like a content carrion bird.

We traveled like this for an hour or so, before we stopped to rest and eat on top of a flat, rocky hill, one that ended at a steep decline. Giving that it was tall, it gave us a good view of the surrounding area, which, seeing as we were getting closer and closer to a hot spot in pony activity, was a very good thing.

But that became just a detail to me when I saw what was a half-days walk away from the very spot we were sitting at.

As it happened, that hill was where I got my first glance at the city of Tauronto.

Call me ignorant, but I once thought an aquarium was one of the larger things in the world.

I wasn't ignorant to the concept of a city, admittedly, but I until that very moment, I wasn't aware at how simply, fascinatingly huge they could be. Often, I had heard from the few ponies that came into my people's domain comments about how large the settlement was. Eighty individuals, give or take a few depending on the year, is apparently on the high end for a settlement's size in the wastes. Watershed was a major settlement, apparently, and I counted about thirty ponies just walking the streets when I was there. I wouldn't speculate about the exact number of tribals in Braymont, but giving all the ponies wandering around I would put it at having at least fifty or so inhabitants.

Tauronto, as a place, was the largest thing I had ever seen.

Even if the sky was overcast as always, the city was impressive to me. It looked almost like a hill, really, with smaller buildings outlying the larger buildings which further hung around the great towers like flies on a carcass. It was a giant grey-blue cluster of old steel and shattered glass; the towers looked like they could fall any moment and the buildings below looked barren, like steel skeletons.

And, off to the side of the largest cluster of towers was a very large, slim building, which made everything else in the city look small and bulky by comparison.

The base was akin to a hexagon, dull grey and probably made from concrete, and it's sides were framed with a dull shiny material, one that only occasionally reflected the spare bit of light directed to it. The real focus of my attention; everyone's attention, really, was the top part of the tower, which had two things that were very, very attention grabbing.

The first was an large, almost flower-like section near the middle of the tower, one that bulged out from the rest of it by at least a few dozen feet or so, rounded at framed with glass. The second thing was the rest of the tower, a thin protrusion that extended from that central bulge that had to be at least a hundred feet tall. It was also giving off a bright green-gold glow that fluctuated every so often, waxing and waning like a schizophrenic green moon. It wasn't bright enough to give the entire section of the city it was located near a green tinge, but it was bright enough that I had to look away after a few seconds of staring at it.

Even then, I had to blink to get the green afterimage out of my vision.

"It's a sight, eh?"

I didn't bother to turn around, because I heard the flapping of wings close behind me.

"Is that the CN Tower, Umbra?" I heard Blueberry ask behind me, sounding more curious than anything else.

"It is. It's one of the tallest buildings in the world, next to the Skytree and Shadowbolt Tower." the bat mare replied, sucking in a breath after finishing.

I didn't know what either of those were, so I didn't say anything. I just kept looking onward, at the city before me, only somewhat listening to the conversation taking place behind me.

"Miss Batsy, why's it named the CN Tower?" Candy Cane asked, excitement audible in her voice even with a piece of cloth covering her mouth.

Smiling at the filly's question, I surprised myself by realizing that the smile Umbra had on her face had absolutely no sarcasm in it at all. Heck, she looked proud. "Terra's Transporters was the largest railroad company in Caldonia a few years before the Great War, Candy Cane. However, it went bankrupt halfway through the war. So, what part of it that was in Caldonia was put under government control, so it was named the Caldonia National. The part that was in Equestria was sold to a company called Four Stars."

"That's the one in Manehatten, right?" Blueberry spoke up lightly, sounding a bit like she was intruding on the conversation despite being just a few feet away. At this rate, I could relate.

"It is, miss Blueberry." Candy Cane replied, to my own amusement and Blueberry's probable bafflement, "Miss Batsy, but why is it still called that?"

"Eh?" I heard the bat mare say quickly, obviously startled, "What do you mean, Candy Cane?"

"It doesn't look like a, um, Caldonia National Tower to me. What about naming it the Glowy Deathy Spiketower? And why does it glow like that? Why's it shaped so funny anyway?"

I heard Blueberry giggle a bit, and Umbra taking a deep, even breath. I repressed the urge to chuckle so that Umbra didn't try and drag me into this.

"That shape in the middle in it the observation tower, and that thing on the top isn't a spike, it's an antenna. It glows because it has a lot of crystal in it, Candy Cane, and it had a lot of magical things in it that got damaged during the war. And that bump in the middle of it is the place where ponies go when they are inside it." Umbra said, the former casual tone in her voice becoming a little more forced.

I didn't have anything to say to that, and apparently, neither did Blueberry.

"So, why isn't called the Glowy Deathy Tower of Eternal Balefire and Reavers, then?"

Candy Cane did, though, and it was adorable.

"Because it's too long of a name." Umbra said, now sounding a little unsure about what else she could say. "Candy, do you want to listen to one of those little tapes Dawn gave you?"

For clarification, Glorious Dawn, besides giving us a few days worth of tasty food in tasteful tupperware containers and letting Blueberry and Candy Cane take old clothes of hers that were just laying around, also gave Umbra, and to an extent Blueberry and I, a moderately sized box filled with cassette tapes and a pair of headphones that were just small enough for Candy Cane's head.

"I guess." I heard the filly reply, voice lukewarm.

As we had placed our belongings on a rocky shelf a few yards away, I heard the two trot away from the rim of the hill, leaving me as the sole observer of that spot for about fifteen seconds, before Blueberry plopped down to my right.

Neither of us said anything for a bit, waiting for the other to speak up first. After a few moments of settling down on the dirt without messing up her new outfit, Blueberry spoke up.

"We need to talk, Watchful."

I looked down at Blueberry, who simply gave me a expecting look in turn, eyebrow's raised slightly.

"About Candy Cane and Umbra? About the Purebred? Mind explaining why you started to laugh like that when Umbra told you what the Scions worship?"

Blueberry laughed lightly, looking forward for a few seconds before catching her breath. "Nightmare Moon is a foal's tale, and a really really old one."

"Umbra looked upset that you laughed at it, though." I said, recalling the bat pony's resigned look she spared Blueberry when she exploded into a fit of giggles. "What is your plan about her, anyway?"

"Wait, my plan?" Blueberry replied swiftly, giving me a amazed look, "I was going to ask for yours."

I looked at the huge expanse of land in front of me, taking in all the little irregularities I could see at this distance in the buildings and the land, all grays of different hues.

"I don't have any plan that I haven't told you already, Blueberry. But, really, what do you think we need to do about Umbra? "

"I don't think she's a threat to either of us as long as Candy Cane is safe." Blueberry said ambivalently, "I think we need to talk about fighting, Watchful."

Feeling that this wasn't going to be a brief conversation, I turned my body around just enough so that I didn't need to move my head to see Blueberry.

"Right now?"

"Watchful, it's not something we can just ignore. Do you know how lucky we have been? We have been captured by a rogue military pony, walked through a cannibalistic hellhole, survived another hellhole and made a ally in the giant mutant that lived in it, and then we walked down to another town, which got blown up the night we arrived. This just has been in the last two weeks, and we actually haven't fought anypony yet. Not a single raider or bandit, even in places that we should have, logically. I have a good gun, but you don't have a weapon or any armor; I don't think you even used that machete you took with you when you left your village, did you? You are a big target, and it takes only one bullet to kill."

I bit the inside of my cheeks, caught without any real pre-formed reply.

"I agree. I suppose we should look in the next place we go to for protective armor and some sort of weapon for me. But, at the moment, you can shoot quite well and Umbra is very fast and has those gauntlets of hers."

At the mentioning of Umbra, Blueberry glanced over to where Candy Cane was now sitting quietly and listening to one of the tapes. Umbra, by contrast, was now perched on a taller rocky outcrop and observing the surrounding area, like a bird of prey. Or a vulture.

"I guess you are right, Watchful. But, really, let's be honest here. You'r a minotaur, and we are going to places where you are probably going to be a bigger target than any of us are going to be. If you can't defend yourself, I don't know what we are going to do."

As she talked, I felt out of place. I didn't feel like I should be where I was, sitting on top of a hill, a place of which I had heard nothing good about looming before me.

But then, I had an idea. A horrific, monstrous idea, but one that might help alleviate her worries and my own. It was a topic that I was trying to keep to myself, but now that seemed impossible.

"Blueberry, remember in Watershed, when I said that minotaur magic protected me from getting shot?"

She immediately frowned. "Yeah, what was that about, anyway? That griffon said you stood in front of that Cheesecake pony and didn't get...."

Blueberry sat there for a few moments before she suddenly looked shocked. "Wait, that was a joke, right? Minotaurs don't have magic, do they? I swear, if you actually have the ability to make bullets not hit you, I am going to-"

I looked to my side, trying to gather just how far Umbra and Candy Cane were, and after gauging that they were far away enough, I leaned forward a bit so that I could lower my voice.

"Blueberry, minotaurs do not have magic, but I have noticed something weird going on ever since I left the Seahorse Aquarium. There was a strange liquid flowing from the water generator, and after I touched it I have noticed strange things happening to me."

"What did the liquid look like?" Blueberry said sharply, not giving me a chance to catch my breath, "What did this generator look like? What have you been seeing?"

I rubbed my temples, thinking back to that hectic day. It felt like it's been forever since it happened, honestly.

"The machine was made out of clear plastic, mostly, but it had some metallic parts. There were six oval orbs arranged in rows of three on each side of it, but it was leaking a clear fluid that glittered from most of it's pipes. It looked damaged."

Blueberry looked away from me for a few moments, at the city, looking like she was deep in thought.

"Watchful, do you know what Flux can do to you?" she said, sounding worried.

"I don't know what Flux is, Blueberry." I replied, hoping that I didn't sound ignorant.

Blueberry turned to me swiftly, and she almost looked like she was going to cry.

"Watchful, Flux and Taint are the same thing; pure, distilled magic in physical form. If that...water generator really was leaking as bad as it was, then that entire water system it's keeping afloat really is irreversibly poisoned. You shouldn't be alive."

I wasn't sure how to react to her words. I didn't remember feeling different after getting near the generator.

"Are you sure, Blueberry?"

She shut her eyes hard, like she didn't want to look at me. Aw, crap, she wasn't taking this well at all.

"Just...what sort of odd things are you seeing?"

I breathed in deeply, brain not working well. I wondered if I should talk about my hand, or about Strife.

I breathed out, and made my decision.

No more lies.

So, I told her everything, starting from when I stumbled out of the aquarium, sans the memory orb, of course. Everything from the manticore to the dream in Watershed to the event on the bridge to the other dream I had inside the radio.

After I was finished, Blueberry looked oddly calm, but before she could say anything, I felt something brush past my horns, which startled me so much I nearly jumped off the cliff.

"Hey, that's a cool story." Umbra said flighty, hovering in the air with periodic flaps of her wings, "That part with the Draconequus is funny, too."

"Wait, am I the only pony here who doesn't know what a dracwhatever is?" Blueberry said quickly, looking both at me and Umbra with equal confusion.

"Draconequus. Spirits of chaos and disharmony, right?" Umbra said mirthfully, prodding my right shoulder like we were in on a funny joke.

"Yes. The original creators of the world, and most of the species within it." I said flatly, giving Umbra an unappreciative look.

My words seemed to snap her out her good mood and after turning fully upright she started to hover upwards slightly, body positioned horizontally so she could look me in the eye.

She didn't look happy with what I just said.

"You don't really believe that crap, do you? You really think minotaurs were created by Discord on a whim?"

I was quite surprised that she even knew that story; most ponies didn't know much about Discord, from what I could tell.

"Of course. You don't really believe that there's a pony watching you from the sky, do you?"

Between the two ponies, there was an interesting discrepancy in the responses to my question; Blueberry said "Yes." but Umbra said "Fuck no, do I look stupid to you?".

Sensing that I was suddenly not the main focus in the conversation, I moved out of the way between Blueberry and Umbra and watched the two bicker about pony things.

"How can you say something like that! You're a ghoul, even! What do you think is going to happen to you if you die?" Blueberry said, looking rather upset as she stood up off the ground and turned to Umbra.

"You know what this armor is, Blueberry Cream?" Umbra said, sounding a little spiteful as she touched the chest piece reflexively.

"It's...Night Guard armor, right?" Blueberry said slowly, sounding unsure herself. "That's the right name, right?"

A brief look of surprise passed over Umbra's face, and she descended to the ground softly, not making a single noise as she did.

"Wait, so you know that I've seen Luna herself? Then what's your issue with me saying-"

"They ascended! They are not dead!" Blueberry snapped back stubbornly.

Umbra waved her off, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Luna and Celestia were ponies. Ponies, even ponies that can move the sun and moon, die. They are as dead as anypony else who died in Canterlot. Both the sun and moon arn't working properly and they are both dead and gone."

"But they ascended!" Blueberry said once more, rearing up and stomping the ground lightly as she did, "Just because you are jaded doesn't mean that other ponies can't have hope!"

I couldn't help but wonder where she was getting this from. I hadn't ever seen her act this...defensive for something that wasn't about her.

"You know what? I'm going to be nice, and not break your little fantasy." Umbra replied sulkily. "How do you even know what the Royal Guards are, anyway? You're a Steel Ranger."

"That's Steel Ranger Senior Scribe." Blueberry replied swiftly, giving Umbra a almost pitying look, "And if you really want to know, I skimmed over a book about bat ponies in Nightcore's collection when I got bored."

"Thestral." Umbra muttered, turning a bit over to where Candy Cane was before looking at Blueberry once more.

"Huh?" Blueberry said, echoing what I was thinking from my stone seat.

"It's Thestral, not bat pony. Or Nocturni, if you want to get fancy with it." Umbra said once more, now looking a bit calmer. "And it's the Night Watch, not Night Guard. There's only a Lunar Guard."

"What's the difference?" Blueberry asked, now sounding calmer herself.

"The Night Watch watched the night, and the Lunar Guard guarded Luna." Umbra said, seemingly without irony, before deciding to elaborate. "The Night Watch was the service branch, the one's that did Luna's work both inside and outside Canterlot. The Lunar Guard stayed in Canterlot, and acted as her bodyguard and her high command."

Umbra paused, and motioned over to Blueberry in a friendly manner. "It's the difference between a Knight or a Paladin, to put it one way."

Blueberry let out a tense laugh. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. So, did you have wings before putting on the armor?"

I was utterly confused by what Blueberry was trying to imply, but Umbra looked humored. "Yeash, that's supposed to be classified. But no, I'm a Thestral born and bred. I got to admit, I'm surprised you know that bit about the armor enchantments."

"I actually didn't read that in that book. One of the founding members of the Fillydelphian Chapter was a displaced Royal Guard, and he wrote a bit about magical enchantments. There's a lot of similarities in the magic that goes into both the Guard and the Steel Rangers armor, you know."

Umbra smiled a bit, fangs poking out over her upper lip. "Hah, that's funny. Oh, and it's Solar Guard, Blueberry. Day Watch too. Same differences."

"Oh, huh." Blueberry said mildly, nodding at Umbra in appreciation. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, can I ask you a few questions?"

Umbra cracked a grin, and for a second I saw her eyes shift in my direction before returning to Blueberry's.

"No, it's fine. Go ahead, I'm not hiding anything."

"You're not a Canterlot Ghoul." she said quickly, "Where were you when the bombs fell?"

Umbra stared at Blueberry for a few seconds, and while she didn't frown, it was pretty clear to me that she didn't expect that.

"I was in Tauronto, on the tower." she said simply. "It was a rainy day already, and I can't fly too good bad weather. One of the bomb's sent at the city already was intercepted, but another one slipped past the defenses and it was destroyed too close to the city."

Blueberry's eye's widened just a tad bit. "Wait, two bombs? I only thought there was one?"

Umbra shrugged. "There were two. One came from the north; from what I heard, it was far enough north that it was probably sent from one of the island silos on the other side of the world. The one that got in city limits, though? That came from the east, and it got fired close enough to Caldonia that no detection systems were set up to catch it before it was too late. It might as well have been fired inside it. Wasn't a traditional Balefire Bomb, either."

Blueberry actually frowned lightly, as did I. But I didn't say anything, because Blueberry obviously knew more on the subject then I did.

"I heard that the bomb that hit the city wasn't normal, but it coming from the east doesn't make sense. The zebra's aquatic bases were all clustered close to Equestria by necessity, right?"

Umbra shrugged. "It wasn't a zebra bomb. I saw the thing before it blew up; it wasn't even a real missile. The payload was just a huge hunk of crystal the size of a house, and when it blew, it just shattered into pieces that just kind of. well, disintegrated as they fell. I think was made of solidified necromantic magic bound to irradiated crystals, which explains why everything just kind of glowed for a decade after it exploded. Lot's of ponies in the city that didn't die of starvation went ghoulish because, other then the fact it kept snowing green snow for a decade, the city never really suffered the damage of an actual balefire bomb."

A bomb made of crystal that was sent from the east? I had an idea-

-and Blueberry seemed to share it.

"The bomb was sent from the Crystal Empire?" Blueberry half-breathed, giving Umbra a dubious look.

The ba-thestral shrugged, not seeming to care about Blueberry's conclusion. "Yeah, probably. And it's 'bombs'. The Coltson Skyport was the northernmost Equestrian aerial base, on an island five days from Manehatten. Entire place is an utter hell now, ask a sailor if you get the chance. There's a ruin there, the Opacus. It's a Thunderhead that was scheduled to be the evacuation vehicle for more than eight thousand ponies, and it was at full capacity when it got blown to bits."

Umbra paused to breathe, and pawed the ground lightly. "It was headed for the Crystal Empire, and the only ponies who knew that were the leadership in both the Equestrian and Imperial high command. The wreck's still there on the island, but it's so irradiated the water around it glows green. The zebras never made a missile with a range like that which wouldn'tve just torn it to shreds."

That was surprising and horrible to think about; what if Pearl Strings, that bigoted pony, was right?

"But the Empire was made of ponies, allies of Equestria! Why would they do something like that? How do you even know this, anyway!" Blueberry said, sounding and looking oddly offended as she took a step closer to Umbra.

"I don't know." Umbra said, like it was the most unimportant thing in the world at the moment,"Doesn't matter; Shining Armor died in Canterlot, Cadance went missing fifteen hours before the bombs dropped, and the head of the Empire's military defenses, Flash Sentry, flew the coop and went into the clouds after Cloudsdale went boom."

Umbra, after she finished speaking, paused, and waved a hoof to the east.

"I don't think anypony actually had any bomb's pointed at the Empire; I don't think the zebra's even knew where it was, but I wouldn't put it off them and make sure they didn't have any issues with refugees." Umbra replied matter-of-factly. "And if you want proof, I can show you it at my place. Recorded logs, pictures, everything. I couldn't make this up. Those weird crystal bombs are probably the reason why the area around the Empire is so awful, too; they probably made a lot more than two, anyway. They probably had a stocked silo or a dozen."

"But that's horrible! Equestria saved the Crystal Ponies; and-"

Umbra waved a hoof, cutting Blueberry off with ease.

"It's not that hard of a concept to grasp, you know. Plenty of ponies betrayed each other on the last day, heck, the Crystal Ponies arn't much different then the pegusi. Both wanted to cut ties with Equestria and both had issues with how Equestria was running during the war. The real difference between the two of them, I would say, was that the Crystal Ponies were always separate from Equestria and never got..."

Umbra stopped talking abruptly, and began to hover off the ground until she was at least a few feet in the air. Turning around to face the city, she made harsh hissing noise and turned to give the both of us fearful looks.

"Go the the fuck down, there's something co-oh sweet Celestia's shitter get down!"

I felt a breeze come from behind me, but then I heard something strange, like air being shifted in large volumes a great distance away. I turned around to see that Candy Cane was hiding under our things, and above us, above the hill, really.

The sound I was hearing was the sound of wingbeats, and the creature making it was a unmistakably, horribly, a fucking dragon.

It was flying far too fast for something that was the size of the house and built like one too, yellow-green scales almost slimy looking in the light. It's big blunt snake-like head was had two thick tusks that jutting out of it's mouth like spears, and it's eyes were small beady things that almost glowed in the afternoon light.

Even if it was hundreds of feet in the air, I could feel the wind shift and twist under the two ragged wings that carried it, and with that wind I quickly realized that dragons smell awful, like an old corpse soaked in propane and set on fire.

As soon as I could, I ducked down on the ground, tried to place my head under my arms as best I could without getting a mouthful of dead, moist grass, and waited, prepared to either die or...well, that seemed about it at the time.

That wasn't the worst part of it, really.

The worst part for me, sitting there face-first on the ground, was when I heard the beast roar.

It wasn't really a roar, because it was wasn't one. It wasn't a proud declaration of dominance, it was almost like a scream. It was a frustrated cry, the sound something makes when it knows there is no hope left for it. Something about it was familiar, because even at it's magnified, level, it was still a cry of despair.

I thought I was going to die for a few moments, but, in time, the beast passed over me. As I raised my head, I saw it continue it's straight course, towards the city. It seemed like every flap of it's wings took forever, but soon enough it made a right turn when it was just about to fly near the city, and soon just seemed to make a half-circle around the entire thing before moving to the west. In time, it vanished from my range of vision, and the only signs around me that it was ever here was that Blueberry was huddled under her robe and Umbra was laying flatly on the ground.

But then, a few moments after standing up, I heard another sound; tiny little pony hooves hitting soft earth.

At first, I thought of the worst case scenario; Candy Cane was scared to death because a giant lizard just flew overhead and could have swooped down on her at any moment, and was in the middle of a sobbing fit. I couldn't get a good look at her, thought, as she ran straight pass me and up to Umbra, who was now only just getting up off the ground.

"Are you alright Candy Cane?" Umbra asks quietly, stretching out a wing over the filly like a protective blanket, "Shh, it's okay, it's not going to hurt you."

"What was that!" Candy Cane squeaked out, voice an octave higher than it was normally.

Umbra looked at the little filly at her side, then at me, and then at the still-quivering form of Blueberry Cream.

"That," she said slowly, "Was a Balefire Dragon, Candy Cane."

There were times when something didn't need to be said. This was one of those times.

Umbra paused, giving Candy Cane a nod and a look of general worry. "How do you feel?"

Candy Cane, by now, was bouncing in place slightly.

"I feel awesome!"

I stared at the filly, and then at Umbra. For a few brief moments, I think we shared a moment of empathy for each other.

Candy Cane, meanwhile, just kept grinning and trotting in circles, like she didn't comprehend that a massive mutated dragon-thing that could fit us all in it's mouth just flew right over us.

Blueberry, now on four legs, was staring at where the dragon flew off too, and looked shaken. She didn't seem to notice or care that there was a little filly doing a happy dance next to an armor clad undead thestral with a far-off look in her eyes.

I just looked at Tauronto, the place where I had spent so many days trying to reach, and realized that the giant pony eating deathlizard that just passed us by actually took pains to avoid flying through the city, and had a feeling that the next few days were going to suck.

She Dies

"You must be new here,
I can speak to anyone any way I want!"

It was only a hour-and-a-half walk from the place we spotted the dragon to the city limits, and to a extent the limits of the town we were directed to by Nightcore.

But, before we entered it, Umbra decided to leave us, citing that, if she stayed around, she could get shot.

I understood why she decided to take that moment to leave, on a basic level, but Candy Cane still had trouble with it.

Apparently, it would be the first time she had seen Umbra leave her in daylight, and even though Umbra trusted Blueberry and I enough to take care of the little filly, it was rather uneasy for everyone involved. Umbra, when asked by Candy Cane why she had to leave, just said she had to go away to talk to her friends and that she couldn't bring them over like she did normally.

And then she kissed the little filly's forehead, smoothed out the hair on the spot she messed up doing so, turned around, and started to fly off, towards the city.

I didn't know how ghouls worked, but considering that Umbra decided to fly straight forward into the suburban area right in front of us as apposed to the cluster of taller buildings that took up the western part of the city, ghouls must not have any issues with flying long distances without rest.

Or, that could be a Umbra thing, or a Thestral thing. Or a military pony thing. Or a undead military bat-pony thing. Or a Reaver thing.

...

I don't really know.

...

But, nothing really happened after we packed up our stuff to go and leave, and besides being utterly shaken by a dragon roaring right above us, neither adult in the party had any major changes in mood.

So, let's flash forward a bit, to save one from having to go through a hour or so of pointless small talk that doesn't really mean anything, in the long run, and straight to where the three of us arrive at the town.

It was rather pleasant, actually. There wasn't many death threats involved, which was probably due to our expert diplomacy.

"Well, arn't you just adorable!"

Giving that we were stopped by a heavily armed individual in the middle of a empty street in what looked like the entrance to a very well-scavenged small business area, we were all slightly surprised. But Blueberry had her gun out and Candy Cane was behind me, so I felt like both of the little ponies that I decided to surround myself with was protected well enough.

That left me unprotected.

But after some talk and the reveal of our secret weapon, which was two feet of adorable, they didn't shoot us and were a bit more friendly to us then they were before.

"No I'm not! I'm adorevil!" Candy Cane retorted, jumping a little as if in protest. The fact she probably only got a inch off the ground in her winter getup didn't help her argument.

The first of the guards we saw was a mare, but not a pony one. Going by simple physical differences, from the lack of an arch on her back to her slimmer legs to the way her ears were standing tall on her head, she was a donkey. She was clad in armor that covered all but her head, seemingly made of hard plates separated by black material that I could best describe as 'stretchy'. On her back was a battle-saddle, one loaded with two long-barreled guns that, while resembling the pair I saw on Cheesecake, seemed to be smaller and far less ornate.

She was the one who seemed to be the most chatty of the pair, as she was the one who first approached us as we walked down the building-lined streets of the city, coming out of what seemed to be a guard post centered out of what was once a shopping outlet. She was also almost immediately fell under the influence of the Candy Cane as soon as she saw her, and the serious look on her face melted as soon as she saw the little filly trailing behind me.

"Arn't you just sweet as sugar!" the donkey cooed, looking surprisingly carefree considering that she had two guns almost as long as she was tall and wearing heavy combat armor.

"My name is Candy Cane! I'm supposed to be sweet!" the little filly replied back at the donkey, trying her best to look up at her but failing because of her heavy clothing.

Another guard followed close behind the donkey a few moments later, but this one didn't look especially happy at our arrival. If anything, he looked rather grumpy when he trotted up to Blueberry. He was a blue earth pony with no armor, only a battle saddle with two boxy-looking objects strapped to it, and he seemed far more concerned about us then his companion was.

"What are you two planning on doing in Dayside, eh?" he mumbled under his breath, giving me a wide berth and standing next to his companion, who was still focused on Candy Cane.

"Resting." Blueberry replied evenly, taking a stand against the stallion's questioning.

The stallion grumbled, giving me a hard look before turning to Blueberry, "Travelers from the south don't come the way you did often. I saw you scale the hills. Most sane folk take the road."

"The road has a higher chance at having bandits." Blueberry retorted , giving the stallion a harsh look. "And if you want to know, Watershed's bridge was destroyed, so we needed to take another route."

The stallion blinked, before shaking his head. "Tch, figures."

I was having enough of this. After observing how the donkey was interacting with Candy Cane, I didn't need to observe the filly any longer, so I turned to the stallion fully.

"This town, it is named Dayside then?"

The donkey didn't seem surprised at my words, but the stallion looked shocked.

"Dear Goddesses, it can talk!" he sputtered, backing up slightly.

The donkey looked at her companion, sighed, and trotted over to me, giving me a apologetic look.

"Sorry, hun, we don't get many of your folk in Tauronto, which is pretty funny, if you think about it, 'cause of the name."

She paused, glaring at her companion for a few moments, only to turn to me. She didn't seem especially intimidated by looking up at me; something I found refreshing.

"Heh, yeah."

I stopped and looked up, noticing a billboard on the roof of one building declaring that Sparkle-Cola Rad was good for your teeth. Surely that couldn't stand for radiation, could it? Ponies couldn't have been that stupid, could they?

"My name is Ever Watchful." I replied, after a few moments. "Me and my companion here were considering staying at the hotel that is apparently on the outskirts of town, as we are unfamiliar with the area."

The donkey nodded lightly. "Ah, that's fair. My name's Karen. And the shameful fool who didn't know that minotaur's could talk," she paused, turning around once more to give the cowardly stallion behind her another glare, "Is named Shooter. And our little town is named Dayside, yeah."

Karen turned around slightly, and motioned over to a larger building nearby, near the end of the street and almost identical to the buildings around it if it were not for what seemed to be wooden boards placed where windows used to be at some point in time. Really, it was quite well hidden, if that really was the town itself.

"How...appropriate." I muttered, giving Blueberry a questioning look, one she returned. So, I wasn't the only one who didn't know that the town and the hotel was the same. "So, in Dayside, how much is it to spend a day at the hotel?"

Karen looked at me, before motioning over to her right. The armor was flexible, if the way the plates on it moved was any indication. "Price varies from time to time, sometime's gets marked up or down depending on the weather. But right now, it's nearing winter, so prices are marked down." She paused again, biting her lower lip as she looked at one of the buildings to the side of us. "Ten caps for every adult, fifteen caps for housing brahman, and six caps for foals without cutie marks. Permanent residence is a hundred caps for each pony, that's a flat rate that's never changed."

Candy Cane started to bounce up and down again.

"Oh, I don't have a cutie mark, and mister Watchful doesn't either, but he's not a brahman! That's, uh, twenty six caps, right?"

How the filly could go from sounding so confidant to so confused in less then a few seconds was baffling, but it seemed to make Karen smile softly before glancing at Blueberry.

"You have a cute kid."

Blueberry's eyes widened until I was sure they couldn't get any bigger, and she started to shake her head quickly.

"She's not mine."

Karen's left eyebrow rose slightly.

"She's not mine, either." I replied in turn, causing Karen to break out into a bunch of little husky chuckles. I waited for her to stop before continuing, before she got the wrong impression. "We are holding her, for another mare."

"Her mother, I'll reckon?" she asked in reply, looking over to her right for a moment, down the other street.

"No. Her parents are not...around, if you understand-"

"My momma's gone, miss Karen." Candy Cane said, head facing the ground but still audible. She sounded far more reserved then she did just moments before.

This was a unexpected turn of events; I didn't know what to say and Blueberry looked at the little filly like she was suddenly the worlds most adorable nuclear payload and just kept staring at her, and Karen's cowardly friend was happy to stay behind the overturned stripped-down wagon that apparently doubled as cover in the middle of the street.

"Well now, isn't that the saddest..." Karen said lowly, mostly to herself, and turned over to Blueberry, now looking rather glum, "Well, you all should be heading there, now. It's too cold for folk's like you to stand around."

"That's military-spec combat armor, right?"

Karen blinked, and smiled at Blueberry. "It is. Caldonian manufactured and made. You have an eye for armor?"

Blueberry shrugged, apparently trying not to push Kim's good humor. "I guess. I like weapons better, though. Are those brush guns on your battle-saddle? I haven't seen those mounted on one in years. Only seen unicorns with them, because of the loading mechanism."

Karen blinked at Blueberry once again, and smiled. Just when I thought I found a good egg, even the nice donkey is interested in guns.

"Oh, thanks for noticing! It took me two week's pay to convince somepony to get the loading system automated. They are both silenced, too."

Blueberry looked at the pair of guns, while I carefully gauged Candy Cane's emotions, and thankfully she didn't seem any worse for wear.

"So, where do you get the rounds for those two? I'v never seen enough .45 Min rounds in my life for just a few rounds with one of those you got there."

"Used to be a hunting club set up nearby, before the war." Karen replied, shrugging. "Plenty of rounds in the place."

She paused, giving Blueberry a pointed look. "Why're you so interested?"

"Wondered if they were standard for guards employed by the Purebreds, that's all." Blueberry replies, shrugging, sounding like she did when she was trying to sound casual when she really wasn't. "I mean, those are good guns. Considering that your friend has heavy ordnance on his back, I'm just wondering."

Karen looked at Blueberry, then at me, then at Candy Cane, before finally locking eyes with Blueberry once more, and narrowed her eyes.

"I think you should all get to town."

Blueberry, getting the hint, started walking forward, past the armored donkey and around the overturned wagon that hid the still-hiding Shooter, and Candy Cane followed her. But I stayed behind, to nod my head as much as I could with stuff hanging off a horn.

"I am sorry about that." I said politely, "She's under stress about the dragon."

She nodded her head slowly, smiling lightly at me. "I understand. Poor little lass is probably scared to death, isn't she?"

I smiled back, rubbing my forehead with the one hand that wasn't encumbered with a carrying bag. "Yes, both of them. Thank you for not shooting at us, by the way. It's rather nice to go to a pony town that doesn't look immediately threatening."

Karen frowned at that, and one of her ears flicked across her head.

"That's just the saddest thing. Hon, when you go in there, ask for Temperance after you settle in. I'm sorry if ponies haven't treated you well, but Temperance is one of the nicest ponies I know. He'll fix you three up, no doubt."

I nodded, smiled, and went on my way, past the two guards and down the suburban streets, towards where Blueberry and Candy Cane were waiting.

When we entered the hotel, I realized that it wasn't actually hidden at all. It was just that it was probably more visible at night.

I didn't have much to work off of when I heard the word 'hotel', but this was far better then an 'inn'. The floors were tile and had a checkered pattern to them, and most of the tiles themselves looked in good condition. The ground floor was clean and nigh-spotless, and the overhead lights were actually on.

In fact, I didn't see any sign that any part of the building was functioning in a bad way. There was even a hovering robot off to the side, sweeping up dirt and grime near a section with clean-looking couches surrounding a small wooden table. Everything that seemed to be made of glass tended to be mostly unbroken and the high ceiling didn't have any water spots, which told good things about the state of the upper floors.

There were only three ponies in the entire floor, seemingly, but all took notice of us on our arrival.

One was a stallion, sitting on the couches to the left of the entrance. He had a odd look to his hair, like someone took the manes of five other pony's and attempted to glue it all on the same head. Blacks and reds and blues and pinks were all there in that big curly lump that dominated the top of the stallions head, and it was a little ridiculous, really. His coat was a odd off-white look to it, not really yellow but not ivory, either. He was reading a magazine, and went back to doing so after smiling at me for a few moments. His teeth were yellow.

The other was another stallion, but this one wasn't nearly as relaxed as the one reading the paper. But then again, that was probably his job, giving that he was also carrying two revolvers holstered at his side. He looked at me with interest, but after a few moments he gave the tiniest of smiles and went back to just staring in space, humming some sort of tune while he leaned on a wooden pillar that seemed to be a support for the building.

The last pony in the room was a mare, sitting at large wooden desk at the back of the room that seemed to have room for far more then just one pony. She seemed rather surprised at us as we came over to where she was, giving that there was a large bold "New Arrivals Come Here" sign lit up right above her. She looked young and groomed to an extent, and was even wearing a little brown and green jacket that shined in the light. As we approached, she started to fumble through a folder on the desk, seemingly in search for something.

While we were waiting for the young mare behind the desk to speak, I realized that this place had air conditioning, too. Also, it smelled nice. It didn't smell like soggy cardboard and dead wet grass, anyway, so it was more of a lack of a bad smell than anything else. But it was a nice not-smell anyway. Crisp.

"Oh, h-hello." the mare behind the desk said swiftly, looking like she was ready to bolt from the chair she was in, "W-would you like one or two rooms to stay in this fine evening?"

Blueberry looked up at me, shrugged, and, after propping herself up on the desk itself, looked at the mare in the eye.

"It's two bed's a room, right?"

The mare, looking at me once, nodded quickly. I couldn't help but frown.

"We'll take one room, then." Blueberry said in turn, a little less confidently this time, I would think, because she got the general gist that the mare was actually starting to sink into her chair as the seconds went by.

The desk-mare's orange-colored hair bun, eventually, was the only thing visible to me as she slowly but surely sank behind the desk.

"Your room number is one-two-nine, enjoy your stay, please don't hurt me." she eventually squeaked out, pointing a hoof over to a odd shiny object set into the far side of the wall to our left.

I had a distinct feeling that she was scared out of her mind.

Blueberry, far from being concerned that I seemed to be a frightful presence, just made a cooing sound when she saw what the mare was pointing at, and before I could ask for anything else she just started trotting over to it, Candy Cane following right behind her.

So, not wishing to be left behind, I followed in turn, making sure all of my steps were careful enough so that they were not too loud. It was a folly, to my dismay; every single shifting movement I made on my feet was enough to drown out the quiet ambient sounds of the entrance hall.

The metallic thing the mare pointed to was a glossy metallic grey, and when Blueberry got close to it, it made a ding sound.

"Ohmigosh, it's a working elevator."

I looked at Blueberry, who was grinning like she was looking at the worlds biggest gun, or whatever little Steel Rangers dream about in their sleep. Candy Cane, deciding to be brave, poked it.

It suddenly began to open sideways, revealing a small taupe-colored chamber that looked barely big enough for us all to get in. I looked at the little blue unicorn in confusion, wondering what her little hoof movements at me meant, until I realized that she wanted me to go in it.

"Blueberry, you cannot be serious."

I groaned when she walked inside it.

"Well, get on in Watchful. You have so much stuff with you, I don't think you would want to take the stairs, right?"

I looked at her big stupid grin, and then at Candy Cane, who was looking at me with a confused expression. Her scarf was lowered enough to the point that I could see that she was pouting.

Gah.

I winced when I felt my horns scraping the roof of the box, even as I was crouched down at my knees, and both my arms touched the sides of the little metal box even when I tried to fold them across my stomach. I think I took up about half the room in that 'elevator', and every square inch of it that touched me was cold and slightly dusty. I probably looked like I was hugging the air, arms bent at an angle and head hung low enough so that I was almost at eye level with the stallion with the revolvers across the room, who I think was trying not to laugh at me.

When Candy Cane walked inside a few seconds after I did, she settled and sat down on the floor and looked up at me. When she looked back down, I think she was trying to suppress a giggle.

Then, when the doors shut, by themselves at that, I heard a crackling sound above my head, and music started to play.

It sounded like the punchline to a very long, very overdone joke.

"Cheer up, Watchful." Blueberry said chirpily, even as she pressed a few buttons on a small black panel that was located on the right side of the wall, "This is only for a few seconds."

"I can feel my back shifting with every second I'm in this box. Blueberry, did we get shot on our way here, and this is my eternal punishment for knowing you? Stuck in a small metal box with annoying music for the rest of my life?"

"Nope, cause that would mean that Candy Cane got shot too, and that's awful. Besides, if I am here with you, then that means that we are both either stuck in this box, or I am a mental construct that you just think is me."

I couldn't turn my head to glare at Blueberry, so I just looked at her disapprovingly. She thought about that far too hard for my liking.

I also felt the box shift slightly, and I felt it move upwards, somehow. I suddenly understood the reason why the music was playing; a long time ago, ponies probably panicked when they first got on these things, and needed to calm themselves with some sort of song, to help them ignore the fact that their center of gravity's were shifting and that they were suddenly being taken up a few dozen feet off the ground they were usually bound too.

But, seeing the two ponies in the tiny metal box that I probably should have never had gone into anyway, my theory was not supported by what I saw. Candy Cane was standing quietly, swaying lightly to the music, while Blueberry still looked pretty happy, considering that we were in a cramped box with annoying music.

"Miss Blueberry, can we eat soon?"

Blueberry turned to the little filly, smiling softly. "Of course, Candy Cane."

"Will miss Batsy be there?"

Blueberry's smile struggled to survive. "No, but we will see her soon enough, like she promised."

Candy Cane didn't respond to her, but giving that the metal box we were in came to a halt, it might have been because the music stopped and she was waiting for the door to open.

When it slowly swung open, I saw that the floor on this level was actually carpeted, baring a neat little gold-green-red swirling pattern on it was mostly stain-free and vibrantly colored, giving it's age.

However, there was something in the middle of the hall that was a rather unexpected sight for all of us, when we saw it Blueberry gasped in shock and I hissed in a breath of air.

It was a pony head. And a headless pony corpse. The head was sat on top of table sitting in front of elevator, and it's wooden frame was ruined by the thick gobs of blood and bits of meat smeared across it's entirety.

It seemed to have belonged to a mare at some point, and it looked like the neck had been sliced cleanly through to where there wasn't much protruding from the stump to make it uneven on the surface of the table. Her eyes were gone, not so much scooped out so much as mashed up in the sockets. The body slumped on the ground, leaning on the table itself, didn't have the substantial damage done to it like the head did, but it looked like something tried to bite off one of the calves and succeeded.

The body's coat was a dark brown color, not matching the greenish color of the head head on the desk. I wasn't sure if that meant anything.

Also, the wall directly in front of us had something written in blood on it.

That was pretty horrific, all things considered.

But, what it said was just about as shocking as what it was painted with.

'REAVERS ONLY, FOOLS'

Post Apocalyptic Pony Canadians Are The Friendliest

"Monsters?! That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

"No, I do not!"

It took twenty seconds for Blueberry to tell me that she was going back down to alert the ponies downstairs about the corpses, seventeen seconds for me to get out of the elevator and sprint down two hallways, and another fifteen seconds for me to find the door that had the same room number on it that the desk-mare said was ours.

Then, after opening the door and rushing inside, I only held it open long enough for Candy Cane to walk inside before shutting it. I quickly dumped the bags that were strung along my horns and shoulders on the floor, moved over to the bed farthest from the door, and sat down, and took a few moments too look around.

The two beds were clean and large, the room was just cold enough to warrant the usage of blankets, and there wasn't any immediate identifiers of it being trapped or containing something that could kill me. There was what looked like a television set on a wooden frame, and a table off to the side seemed set up with a small beverage maker and a few bits of what could have been office supplies. There was a large window set in the far end of the room, cloudy but big enough to give one a good view of the street below if one was standing in front of it.

It didn't smell especially 'fresh', but it didn't smell like mold, blood, or dirt, and there was a shower installed in a small room right next to the door, or what looked like a tile room set up with a shower in it.

I was tired. I was upset. I was scared.

My back was one big sore spot and my head hurt and I just saw two dead bodies and something rather discomforting written in blood and...

Candy Cane was just looking at me oddly from the other bed.

It was a little jarring, actually. She wasn't as dirty as she could have been, as she had the good idea of dumping her boots and baggy clothing near the door, but she didn't look afraid. At all.

Also, I didn't see her get up on the bed, which wasn't helping me feel any better about the currant situation.

So, after a few moments of pause, I looked at her and cleared my throat, to try and sound more confident than I really was.

"Candy Cane, are you alright?"

In response, the filly blinked, as if surprised that I would ask such a thing, and tilted her head.

"Yes, I'm okay."

She paused for a few moments, frowned once, and looked at me again, the same puzzled expression on her face.

"Is Ms. Blueberry okay?"

She sounded sincere in her innocence, which scared me a little, because she was probably telling the truth. There wasn't any fear in her eyes. There might was well have been two live ponies standing in front of the elevator, because-

Wait, no, that's wrong, because if their were two ponies standing in front of the elevator, then she would have tried to say 'Hi' to them, or something. She just acted like there wasn't anything there.

A bit unnerved, I decided to tell the filly the truth. I didn't see a reason to lie to her, at the moment.

"I am not okay, Candy Cane. Neither is Blueberry. We are both a little scared, and I'm thinking of leaving now while we can."

She replied quickly, still looking slightly confused.

"Why? Is it the two dead ponies in the hallway?"

I forced myself to smile. I think my eyes were starting to water.

"Yes, Candy Cane, it is."

"Oh." the filly said lowly, looking at me like I wasn't speaking rationally. "Why are you scared, Mr, Watchful? You'r big and strong, and Miss Blueberry is a big pony too."

For a few moments, I tried to pretend that the filly in front of me wasn't acting abnormal, and she really was ignorant of the real implications of what was going on around her. But no; she knew what death was, at the very least.

But Umbra...

Ah, that was a thought.

"Candy Cane, remember when Blueberry and I first found you, where you were living?"

The filly's head bobbed briskly.

"Why were there two dead ponies in there?" I asked, voice a little strained.

"Um, uh..." she blinked a few times, like she had to remember which dead ponies she has seen in the last few days, "Miss Batsy killed them. They came in the building in the morning, so I hid and waited till dark."

She paused to breath, so I decided to press a question against her. I hardly knew how she lived before she joined our group, so now was as good a time as ever.

"How long was Umbra gone at a time?"

It hardly seemed prudent to leave a pony as small as she was alone.

"She went out every few days when she could. But she always came back with food nicer than green spongy gunk, like soda and candy! Sometimes she brought friends, like Mr. Bonesaw and Mr. Blister!"

Candy Cane, abruptly, frowned.

"Is she coming back soon, Mr. Watchful?"

"Soon." I said reflexively. It wasn't a lie; she can fly fast and she knew where she was, and probably didn't trust us with her charge anyway. Then again, she didn't say anything to either me or Blueberry before she left. I hope she wasn't going to bring 'friends'.

"She's going to come back soon." I repeated weakly.

Or, of course, Umbra could be in the building. That was a option I was considering, at this point.

knock knock

Hearing something beating at the door, I suddenly realized I didn't lock it when I entered it. It wasn't a paranoid thought, just a rational one.

Standing up, I walked over to the aged door after motioning for Candy Cane to be quiet, hoping that it was Blueberry on the other side, as apposed to a dozen or so armed guards.

knock knock knock

Huffing lightly, I didn't bother to look through the little peep hole near the middle of the door and just opened it, hoping that it was Blueberry.

Needless to say, it wasn't. For instance, Blueberry didn't have a beak. Or wings. Blueberry also didn't have little teardrop tattoos on her face, as far as I could tell, and Blueberry didn't walk around with a big wooden handled rifle at her side.

I blinked when I saw that I was staring at the only griffon I could recall having an extended conversation with in my life.

"Gabriel, right?"

The griffon looked shorter than I remembered him, but that might have just been because I was looking at him from a better angle. How tall he appeared hardly mattered, though, considering that he was wearing what resembled black-on-yellow shiny light armor and still would probably brush the sides of the hallway if his wing's were outstretched, not even mentioning the gun on his back.

...

It was probably the beak.

"Yeah, still is. Mind if I get in there and out of this hallway?" the griffon replied, sounding slightly hurried.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I wasn't sure what I could have said. I don't think 'No' would have been a good answer, and he was easily one of the more pleasant individuals I had met so far, even with that category being unfortunately tiny.

After a few moments of deliberation, I shrugged mentally and walked back into the room, giving him room to pass through.

"Ooh, Mister Griffon!" Candy Cane squealed at the sight of him, bouncing slightly as she jumped up once on the bed. I couldn't' tell if the light squeaky sounds were coming from her or the elderly mattress.

"Wha?" the griffon said, not really yelling but presumably raising his voice out of pure reflex. After a few seconds of pause, he noticed Candy Cane staring at him, wide-eyed and grinning. "Oh, hey kid." he mumbled. "Call me Gabe. Mr. Griffon was my father."

Candy Cane just nodded in response, but I didn't know if that was a joke or not, so I just hung close to the door while he undid the battle saddle on his back and stretched a bit on the far side of the room. If he thought that was a good way to make me comfortable, he was wrong, because one of his claws could still wrap around Candy Cane's torso and, if anything, the fact he looked less restrained with twenty or so pounds of metal on him made me slightly more conscious that my knees were very much unprotected by, say, two and a half inches of keratinous claw.

"I guess you saw us coming here?" I said slowly, trying to seem like the one in charge here.

"Kind of." Gabriel said, voice clearer then it was before, more casual and less monotone, "The mare in charge of the sniper nest on the top floor of this place said she spotted a minotaur and two ponies heading over here."

I breathed in shakily, but no so much that Candy Cane would have noticed. Being aware of a pony armed with a large gun waiting for big targets to get close to her would have useful about twenty minutes ago.

"I suppose you stopped her from killing us."

"Sort of." he said, looking at the cloudy window next to him; he sounded like he was making a joke.

"Comet Kicker wasn't about to shoot you guys, but she heard me talk about Watershed, and, heh, I couldn't resist not talking about the big minotaur who offed Cheesecake Crumbles, so she got me in there and showed me you were coming down the street."

I looked at the griffon, thinking about how I could approach this situation. Candy Cane seemed content in just looking at the griffon, but I wasn't about to lower my guard with him, friendly or not. He was still someone I barely knew.

"So, the murdered ponies. I suppose you don't know who did it either."

He blinked and straightened himself out, pawing the carpet slightly. He didn't look like he wanted to talk about the bodies laying two hallways to the right. "Nope. Couldn't be a Reaver who did it, though. You couldn't get a ghoul in this place if you had all the caps in the world. It's not your problem, though."

Indeed, it wasn't.

Gabriel caught my soured look and lifted a wing and used it to motion over to the window, as if he was pointing to a chart. "Bodies are still fresh, and blood's still pooling out of them. Ten minutes dead, tops. There's about thirty ponies here, and they all live on the upper floors and none of them look like the two who got killed."

While his voice was light, I could tell he was unnerved. Two dead ponies in a semi-isolated community who no one recognizes, killed brutally and swiftly by something that could dispose of ponies with unnatural ease.

I looked at Candy Cane pleadingly, hoping that she wouldn't say anything about Umbra. To my relief, she didn't look like she was going to say anything incriminating, content in observing the griffon. A thought came to me; perhaps Gabriel was the first one she had ever seen.

So, after thinking for a few moments, I spoke.

"You're not here to just talk about nothing, though. You don't seem to be the sort who track down everyone you have a talk with, and unless something changed in the last few days, I thought you told me that you don't work for the Purebred."

The griffon stared at me for a few moments, eyes widening just a hair, and nodded briskly. "Heh, don't worry, I don't. I was staying here for the night, just stopping by on the way into the inner city."

I narrowed my eyes slightly, and Gabriel hesitantly continued, filling in the gaps that were obvious in what he was telling me.

"Comet Kicker's a friend of a friend. She's good for stuff; I was just hanging out upstairs. But enough of that, yeah, I think we need to talk."

My mouth formed a thin line, by reflex. I wasn't sure where he was going with this, but by the way he was talking, I wasn't sure if I was going to like what he was going to say.

"About what? Is there more corpses in the area I need to know about?"

Gabriel stood up straight as he could so he could look at me straight in the eyes as well as he could, from where he was in the room. He was doing a pretty good job at it, too. I could swear that he almost looked half my size, the way his feathers puffed up a bit.

"Well, no, there's-"

The griffon was interrupted by the sound of a mare screaming, almost directly outside the room, followed by a knock on the door-

"-ah, crap." he muttered-

-followed by the door opening from the outside.

I turned around to see who it was. It had been about twenty fifteen minutes since Blueberry went downstairs, so it was quite nice to see that she was very much alive.

But, there was also a stallion next to her.

He wasn't especially intimidating, actually. He was a bit on the short side, bluish-white coat with a brown curly mane. While he was a unicorn, I could barely see the stubby horn on his head from underneath his hair, and he didn't look especially stuck up at the moment. Heck, he was levitating a little basket next to him.

Blueberry looked almost shocked when she looked passed me at Gabriel, while the curly haired unicorn just blinked once when he noticed me and the two others in the room.

"Hello!" Candy Cane spoke up excitably, making the stallion look at her attentively.

He let Blueberry pass before he walked right in, basket still held in off-white magical light. With the two of them out of the way, I closed the door. As crowded as this room was getting, I wasn't sure if I wanted my back exposed to the open floors of this hotel.

I looked at Gabriel, who was staring at Blueberry, and I then looked at Blueberry, who just sort of wavered between staring at me and the griffon. Candy Cane just sort of wiggled in place, as if the newcomer was the greatest thing she had ever seen.

The stallion just sort of stood in the far corner, basket placed on the wooden desk set in it. He looked at me and Gabriel with equal concern, but I couldn't blame him for that. There was a rather large gun laying across the radiator, after all, and if I wasn't here, I would have thought that Candy Cane was sorely out of place, between the griffon mercenary and myself. Then again, I didn't know who he was, or why Blueberry didn't seem too worried about his presence.

Heck, I didn't really follow the sequence of events that made half the people in this room come in it!

"Oh, excuse me for barging in like this, but giving recent events;" he paused, wincing lightly, "I wish to warmly welcome you all to our establishment, and hope that you understand that horrific events like what happened today are not the norm for what usually happens here."

The stallion paused momentarily, looking around the room, as if to gauge reactions to what he was saying. Gabriel looked reasonably bored, Blueberry almost looked giddy, while Candy Cane just sort of stood on the bed and stared at the stallion.

After a few moments of quiet, he chuckled nervously and continued speaking.

"As an apology to you, um, two for seeing the crime scene first, I would like to inform you that you do not have to pay the fee for staying here for five days."

I blinked. I didn't actually recall Blueberry shelling out the caps at the front desk, so not having to pay at all is nice.

Blueberry, for her part, sort of avoided looking at the stallion for a few seconds.

"Also," the stallion's horn lit up, and three small, flat, green squares floated out of the basket, landing quietly on the table. "if you are hungry, you can present one of these cards to the pony in the dining hall and get a free meal. It's the least we could do, as I expect you found this place seeking a fine place to stay, a place where the violence outside is left behind when you enter it. I am sorry for what you saw today, but I assure you the perpetrator is being tracked down as we speak."

Free food and board? I was starting to like this stallion.

"I suppose you are the pony in charge here?"

The stallion blinked when he heard me speak, and for a few seconds I didn't think he was going to answer back.

"Why yes, yes I am. My name is Temperance, and I am the mayor of this town. I suppose you are Ever Watchful?"

I looked at Blueberry, who was now not looking at me. Figures.

"That is my name, yes, The donkey guard outside, Karen, said you were a good pony to talk to."

A genuine smile grew on his face. "Well, isn't that nice of her! To be fair, I am in charge of this little community, so I can't say that I am not a good pony to talk to."

He didn't sound very confident talking about himself, which surprised me. This was what the leader of the town looked like? He sounded more like Dawn then, say, the Elder.

Ah, that was something to bring up.

"We just visited Nightcore and Dawn."

Temperance tensed up slightly, and I had a feeling that I was going off-script for him. His smile was struggling to survive, and his eyes were rapidly moving back and forth, scanning the room more intently.

"Ah. Nightcore and...her." he said slowly. "Well, that changes a few things. I suppose you wish to see the armory, then?"

I narrowed my brow, not having a single clue about what he was talking about, but I couldn't question his words, because that was the moment that the window suddenly shattered and Temperance's head exploded in a shower of bone and meaty bits.

Several things happened at once after that happened.

Blueberry ducked next to the television set, as far away from the window as possible, screaming something I didn't make out over the sound of a bullet hitting the roof of the room.

Gabriel let out a panicked squawk before grabbing his gun and setting it next to his side, not bothering to put on the battle saddle and looking like he was getting ready to move towards the window.

Candy Cane stared at the space where Temperance was standing for a few moments, wide-eyed and speckled with red, before getting off the bed and hiding behind it.

But me?

I just stood there for a few moments, still trying to comprehend why I had little bits of wet stuff on my front body and why I suddenly tasted iron, and it was only after a few moments of silence did I crouch down and try to spit out the giblets of pony brain out of my mouth.

When I hit the ground, I realized what just happened, and I became acutely aware that someone just shot at us from the second floor of a building with the intent to kill. It might have been me or Blueberry or even Temperance himself, but at this point, it didn't matter.

Then I heard the pitter-patter of a gun being shot, far away enough that it was probably coming from downstairs.

Then that was tuned out by the dull roar of what had to be five different guns going off at once, and the sounds and screams of panicking ponies.

The hotel was being attacked.

And we were covered in the blood of the guy apparently in charge.

And, if my ears were not deceiving me, if my brain wasn't playing tricks on me, I just heard something outside make a very ominous sound. It sounded like clink-wirr.

Alas, The Dance Number Had To Be Cut For Time

"Com'on now, the war's just a fact of life now, like death and spontaneous musicals!"

"He's right you know! In fact, if you act quickly, as part of a limited time one of a kind deal, we can supply you insurance coverage that takes care of all three!"

I kept my head down as low as I could, because I didn't need to be told that ponies with guns big and accurate enough to snipe at a random stallion a few floors above ground level could shoot me from about the same angle. Candy Cane sat very still behind the bed, and Blueberry somehow managed to get Self Defense out of her bag from the other end of the room with her magic and was baring it beside her.

Gabriel, on the other hand, had picked up his gun and was leaning to the right of the shattered window, and looked like the only one who had a clue about what to do.

The sounds of gunfire below were not letting up, and the tell-tail sound of the tank rolling down the street facing the hotel was only getting louder,so I gestured forcefully over at the griffon, catching his attention.

"Where's the safest place here, Gabriel?"

He took a moment to process what I was saying, but going by the way his head snapped over towards the window, it was clear we weren't his biggest priority.

"The roof, unless there's-"

Blueberry waved her hoof in the air, to cut Gabriel off.

I repressed the urge to curse at her, as there was a filly in the room.

"Unless what." Blueberry said tonelessly.

"The roof is still the best place up here, if the elevators are shut down now. There's three snipers and a big turret." he spoke hastily, as if he was now reconsidering what was the biggest threat to his life at the moment.

"The elevators can be shut down?" Blueberry asked, raising a eyebrow.

"Yeah, at the first sign of trouble, a pony on the top floor can throw a switch so armed invaders can't use them as a way to get around. There are only two staircases on the first floor that go up, and they have chokepoints."

"So the guards here are taking positions near the stairs, then?"

Gabriel shrugged as well as he could cradling a gun. "I guess. Don't know."

"Where is that armory place Temperance was talking about, then?" Blueberry said, voice a little less rushed then I expected her to be, especially with the red bits I could see that were stuck in her coat.

Gabriel looked almost insulted. "That's what you want to talk about! There's a freaking battle going on outside, and you want to know where the loot is!"

Blueberry reared back slightly and looked utterly enraged, but before she managed to say anything she jerked back her head low and a good chunk of the wall exploded directly behind her.

"Shit!" she yelped, her expression of rage quickly became one of horror and surprise as she scooted away from the window and closer to me.

"That's a bad word!" Candy Cane piped up cheerfully from under the bed.

Blueberry put a hoof over her mouth, looking a little embarrassed, and looked at me like I was the one with a plan.

Sighing, I placed a hand over my forehead, feeling a little scared, and looked at Gabriel thoughtfully.

"Gabriel, can you keep Candy Cane safe?"

He was peaking out the shattered window when I said that, but he tensed up when he turned to face me. He looked slightly confused.

"What?" he said, before shaking his head. "I mean, I was planning on heading towards the top of the building, where there isn't three dozen ponies with guns and a big metal box shooting at me."

"Well, that's it." I replied, "Blueberry, do you want to help the ponies here?"

She was looking at me like I had gone utterly insane. "Watchful, you hear that sound?"

Blueberry paused pointedly, so that the sounds of ponies yelling downstairs and in front of the building could be heard, along with the metallic noise of the tank and the sounds of gunfire.

"Oh, wait, that's the sound of a army of ponies armed with military weapons and combat armor with a mechanized anti-infantry vehicle!" she said, voice high-pitched and mocking, " And guess what? We aren't on their side and there's a dead important pony in the room!"

I pointed at the body of Temperance. "At the moment. If we could be blamed for this, I would think we could go over to the side that looks-"

Blueberry swore so quickly I didn't actually make out what she said.

"Are you kidding me! We arn't switching sides! Fuck, Watchful, what..." she paused, bringing a hoof to her forehead like it was suddenly heavier, "You can't be serious! We arn't going to go to whatever side looks the most likely to win like cheap mercs!"

Besides Blueberry looking furious, even Gabriel was starting to give me a look of distrust. But, as far as I could tell, I had a plan that could work.

"We wouldn't be. We would be pretending to switch sides."

I heard something click, but it wasn't from the gunfire coming from below. It came from a gun that was, unfortunately, now pointed directly at my head.

Gabriel didn't look especially frightened by the current turn of events anymore. His beak was curled into a grimace and he was now half-sitting on his hind legs now, as he was using both his talons to hold his rifle.

Blueberry didn't say anything, kept her pistol pointed at him, and held her magic steady. I wasn't sure if he would be fast enough to dodge her shots, but I knew it wouldn't matter if my brains joined Temperance's in making the floor more colorful then it needed to be.

"You know, it's funny." Gabriel spoke up, gun tight in his grip. "I thought you were a good guy. Saw a bunch of bullets curve around you, and said to myself 'Wow, good thing this guy like's me'. Saw the giant fish thing eat those mares, and said to myself 'Good thing I'm on his good side'. Told you to head to Nightcore's for shelter, and said to myself 'Hope those three get there okay'."

He breathed, wincing lightly when a mare down below let out a horrid screech of pain.

"And here you are, suggesting that we use the corpse of one of the few ponies in this entire city that I liked as a bargaining chip."

I saw a talon slowly wrap around the trigger.

"So, who are you working for, anyway? There's only a few ponies who would hire a minotaur, so I'm just going to guess that you've been hired by a guy in the Purebreds. Was it Troubadour? Doughnut Steel? Rimewind?"

Gabriel paused, before shaking his head. His eyes widened slightly.

"Shit, it's Nightcore, isn't it? You'v been hired by Nightcore to screw things up in the city so Boffenspark can't control the factions in the Purebreds. This is all just one big fucking set up, isn't it? One town that was almost in Purebred control get's destroyed by mercenaries, while you end up killing a mare who might have made the other's unite against her. Then you end up in the city, and t-"

I interrupted him by punching the wall next to me. I left a dent in it, but it was drywall so it wasn't nearly as impressive as it could have been.

"Are you stupid? If I don't even know who half the ponies you just mentioned are. I have nothing to do with this, and you know it. Neither does Blueberry, who, if I have to remind you, just saved you'r life. Don't be a idiot, Gabriel. Point the gun away from me and focus on the ponies actually trying to kill us all. Didn't you just say something about not talking about stupid things? You can accuse me of things I haven't done later."

Blueberry was quiet, not seemingly ready to speak up, while Gabriel just stood there, gun pointed at my head.

I let myself relax when he lowered it, sighing lightly.

"We need to talk after this, yeah." he mumbled, before giving a eye at his armor. "What was you're idea, with..."

He didn't seem to have the heart to call Temperance's corpse by his name, but he motioned at it with the tip of his gun anyway.

"Do you think those ponies on the roof could kill some ponies if they are distracted?"

Gabriel shrugged. "I guess."

Blueberry shook her head at me, and looked a little peeved. "If you are thinking about talking with whoever's in charge down there long enough to keep the leaders distracted enough to snipe them, you'r being foalish, Watchful. This isn't a band of raiders; this is some sort of professional strike force."

Gabriel blinked, turning to Blueberry sharply. "You know these guys?"

"No. But we saw infantry carrier move through Braymont a week ago. It was at Watershed too, but it didn't have armed ponies with it then."

Gabriel didn't say anything, but he just rolled his eyes and turned to me. "Great. That's just...great." he said sarcastically. "So they traveled from that far down south to get up to here and no one has any clue why they are here."

He paused sharply, bringing his gun closer to his chest, and it took me a moment to realize why.

The sound of gunfire below was gone, and the sounds of big machine outside along with it.

Then, an unfamiliar male voice rang out in the air, unnaturally loud and coming from outside the building.

"Ponies of Sunnyside Hotel! Surrender your caps and belongings downstairs, and those who do will be allowed to flee unharmed!"

The room was quiet for a few moments.

"Welp, I'm going to the roof." Gabriel said smoothly, placing his gun down and picking up his yellow-on-black armor as he did. "See you guy's in hell."

"Would you mind if Candy Cane goes with you?" I asked, once again, before clarifying. "To the roof, not pony hell."

He looked at the filly half-hiding under the bed, and then at me. Said filly was still looking at him wide-eyed, which might have been cuter if she didn't have bits of Temperance on her face.

"Uh, sure." he said hesitantly, scratching the back of his feathered head with a talon. Candy Cane, in response, made some sort of high-pitched squeeing noise.

After watching the little filly wiggle out from under the bed and over to the quite possibly intimidated griffon, I turned to Blueberry, who was currently trying to get debris out of her mane.

"I'm going up there too, I guess." she said lightly, putting her gun closer to her side. "Gabriel, if things get hairy, could you carry me and Candy Cane out of here?"

"I'm not a taxi." he grumbled, eyeing both her and the filly who was now standing close to the unflappable griffon. "I'm not even here to fight."

Candy Cane suddenly pouted. Gabriel averted his eyes from her for a few seconds before giving Blueberry a exasperated look.

"Fine, I'll carry you out. But I want comp."

Blueberry shrugged. "Fine. So, Watchful, you going through with you're idea?"

Her question startled me slightly, and I eyed the corpse on the floor.

"No." I admitted, "I have no weapons, and bringing Temperance's body with me wouldn't go well here."

"So, you're headed for the roof." Blueberry continued, sounding relieved, "I didn't see anything connecting this building with another one, but the building isn't surrounded any you could probably sneak out if-"

"I'm going downstairs, to see the ponies doing this. I wish to talk to them."

My words made her pause.

"Oh."

She looked up at me, eyes widening just slightly. Her mouth curled up at the sides.

"You are being stupid." she said bluntly.

I looked at her, frowning. I did, in fact, have a plan; considering that the ponies stopped shooting at us when I announced that I was part of the Watchers, I would simply do so again and hope that, seeing that I didn't have anything, they would let me be. But I didn't say that, as I didn't know if she remembered what happened in Watershed and I didn't want to put off Gabriel. So I didn't say what I could have said to make her more relieved and continued to hold information for my benefit.

"Blueberry, even if the roof is the safest place here, what if the ponies downstairs beat back the guards and take over this place? I would be stuck on the roof; I don't think Gabriel could carry me off it."

She looked over at the griffon, who didn't even consider the option. "I'm not a pack mule."

"Miss Batsy said that's speciest!" Candy Cane piped up cheerfully.

The griffon looked down at the little filly close to his feet, baffled.

"Imaginary friend." Blueberry quipped.

"Miss Batsy isn't imaginary!" Candy Cane half-shouted back at Blueberry, who flinched lightly in return.

"Look, I'm going downstairs." I finally, said, feeling like if I stayed in the room long enough I would never leave. "Gabriel, where are the stairs?"

"Two hallway's down, left of the elevator." he said affably.

Blueberry looked up at me, and while she didn't look like she wanted to kill me, her mood was somewhere in that spectrum.

"Don't die."

I sighed.

"I won't."

She moved over to her bag, and levitated out the white comb that was in it. She held it out for me, with magic.

"Here, take t-"

"Everypony who wishes to live is to go downstairs by the main walkway, without weapons or other arms! The cease-fire will stop being in effect in fifteen minutes!"

"-this." Blueberry finished, only slightly startled by the loud voice calling from outside. "If you really need to get through. If you escape, we'll meet up somewhere close by."

I nodded after taking the comb, and I left the room as briskly as I could.

I had a distinctly bad feeling about this.

Once, when I was very young, I asked my father what it felt like to be the biggest person in the room.

His response was brief, but it's stayed with me for quite some time; "You'll know some day."

It seemed a bit of a joke back then, and it was probably intended to be a joke, but standing behind a gathering of what had to be at least forty ponies crammed into a single room, I realized that being the biggest person in the room was a rather nerve-wracking experience.

I didn't have anyone's back to hide behind, for one thing.

From my spot in the rightmost hall, I could see that the ponies in the lobby were mostly gathered in the center, surrounded by a group of five ponies wearing blue-grey armor, with one stallion bearing a megaphone and a simple leather jacket seemingly in charge. None of the prisoners looked especially too bad off; one even had what looked like little crystals hanging off her ear, attached to two metal nubs that were stuck in her ear lobes, but they all looked appropriately scared.

There was also a surprisingly large amount of foals in the group, probably one for every three adults, and I couldn't help but wonder if the security of their positions allowed the ponies here more leeway into the number of children they had. While it took me a few good minutes to get downstairs, the shear amount of ponies in the room startled me. I could only wonder if they were gathered elsewhere on the first floor, as I didn't pass any on my way downstairs.

Withing the gathered townponies, neither Karen nor Shooter was in the crowd, and I dreaded if their corpses were outside. I spotted the stallion with the odd hair and the front desk pony in the gathering, but the guard pony who was standing in the room when I went in was still where he was standing before, slumped down on the wall and missing most of his head.

I adverted my eyes so I didn't have to look at the corpse, shuddered slightly, and took a few steps into the room, hoping I wouldn't be shot to death.

The responses I saw from the ponies at my arrival were curious. The armed ponies circling the helpless individuals in the center of the room took immediate notice of me, as did the pony in the coat. The townsponies, on the other hand, seemed more shocked then surprised, but they quickly quieted down. Presumably, they thought I was working with the invaders, or at least wasn't on their side.

"Brahmin head, outside, now!" the stallion in the coat said forcefully, motioning over to the shattered remains of the entryway. "Claws on the back of your head and horns upward! Any sharp movements and you get you're knees blown off!"

It took me a moment to realize that the stallion was talking about my hands, but I wasn't going to argue the fine details of my physiology with the pony who was also in charge of a bunch of ponies who had large guns pointed at me. As I passed the ponies, the lead stallion and another armed pony followed me, and I was uncomfortably aware that I had a gun pointed at my back.

Outside the hotel, it was cold and grey, but that wasn't new. What was new was the large vehicle parked off to the side of the entrance of the hotel, making a off putting clink-whir every so often. It shook in place slightly, seemingly because of the mess of machinery on it's back, and it had two large guns almost as tall as I was on extended in the air, big wide-barreled thing's that started in a big mess of wiring and tubing. But I didn't get a good look at it, as I had to keep moving until I was at the metal spade-like front end of the tank-thing, because I didn't want to get shot.

What I saw at front of the vehicle confused me for a few seconds, because I saw two almost identical light yellow mares sitting on a bright red couch, one reading a newspaper and another holding a remote controller in her hooves. When I realized that I was, in fact, looking at two almost identical mares sitting on a red couch mounted on top of a tank-wagon thing, I just sighed internally.

After the stallion motioned me to stop moving, he tapped on the chassis of the machine, making a sharp thumping noise that barely overtook the ambient sounds of the mechanical mess on the back end of the vehicle.

In response, the mare with the newspaper, without looking up, prodded the mare with the remote with one of her back legs, which made her look up from the little black box.

She looked rather lanky, as far as pony's went. Her hair, like the mare next to her, was bright red, and the only difference between the two was a thin green strip through her own mane, right down the middle.

She also was looking at me like I was the most interesting thing in the universe, and without taking her eyes off me she blindly waved the newspaper out of the other mare's grasp. The other mare, in response, grunted out a complacent before putting the paper in her lap and giving me an almost baleful look.

"Rollcall, what's the big deal?" the mare with the purely red mane asked sourly. The mare next to her just let out a dirty snigger.

The stallion standing next to me shrugged slightly in response, like he had been asked what time it was. "You said something 'bout keeping an eye out for weird things yesterday."

"I'm not weird." I mumbled.

The mare with the purely bright red hair rolled her eyes, and motioned towards me. "Come on, Rollcall, I was talking about Reavers and crap. If I wanted everything that wasn't a pony brought to me I would get sick of looking at beaks all day. Oi, stand up and get your hands off your head."

It took me a few moments to figure out she was talking to me, but I did what I was told. When I did, she visibly relaxed.

"Rollcall, finish frisking those twits inside. We don't have time to stay here for much longer, you know that."

The stallion shook his head, letting out a low groan, like a parent dealing with an unruly child. "We just got here-"

"And that doesn't matter!" the other mare spoke up, sounding noticeably lighter in voice then her presumable twin.

Rollcall didn't say anything as he turned around, but he looked like he was trying to stomp the ground into submission on his way back to the hotel. I almost felt sorry for the stallion.

"So, I guess you don't know what's going on here?"

I looked at the cheery mare to the left, and frowned.

"I have no idea."

The more serious-looking mare gave her cheery copy a harsh glare before looking at me with a slightly softer look.

"I'm Shiv, and this brat," she pointed at the mare to her right, "is Shank. And we are the-"

"-Shiv Shank sisters, traveling mercenaries without compare!" her sibling blurted out, seemingly taking joy in interrupting her sibling.

I shook my head slightly. Pony parent's needed to take more time to consider what they named their children. I half-wondered if I would meet a 'Bloodthirst Murdershriek' before the day ended.

Shiv, despite her name, seemed somewhat sane, and gave her apparently younger sibling another glare before focusing back on me.

"We're hire-on's for that stallion, Rollcall. This place is a hub of slaver activity, but I don't like it when good ponies who are in the wrong places at the wrong times get shot up because they don't know where they are. I'm going to take a guess and you don't owe anypony in there anything, right?"

I didn't like the way she said that, but I was slightly surprised at their stated mission, so I didn't state my wariness.

"My name is Ever Watchful, and I just arrived in the city today. I am not actually working for these ponies. My..." I paused for a moment, taking note that Shiv looked rather pleased at my words, "companion and a filly we are looking after are currently inside. We just arrived within the hour."

"Aw, that's sweet." Shank said lightly, eye's fluttering as she leaned closer to me,

Feeling that she grossly misinterpreted what I said, I shook my head vigorously. "No, no, it's another pony's foal."

Shank just shrugged. "Well, okay. Adoption isn't anything to sneeze at."

Dismay started to creep into my voice. "No, me and the mare are not romantically involved."

The limber mare made a pouty face. "Aw, there's nothing worse then a crush. Poor thing."

Shiv held her forehead for a few moments, groaned, and moved to slap her sister across the head, missing only by a few hairs.

"Stars and moon, sis, look at him! Fuck'en a pony for him would be like a stallion fuck'en a foal! You wouldn't even need to bend over to suck him off! Shut the fuck up and get with the program!"

I think I had a mild aneurysm just at processing the mental image I was getting.

"Uhm." I said intelligently, before managing to regain control of the muscles on my face so I could speak, "So, when will you're group leave here?"

Shank, who was still giggling at my facial expressions, just waved a hoof in the air. "Depends on if there's any slaves here!"

"Ah." I said, before continuing to what I was really concerned about, "I think I saw you pass through Braymont. And through Watershed."

Both sisters suddenly went still.

"Well, uh, huh." Shank said quickly, adverting her gaze from me.

Her sister, however, spoke far more calmly, which was surprising to me. "We were hired to sweep through Braymont before joining with Rollcall himself. Braymont has known slaver stops and the tribal's let slavers stay in abandoned buildings in exchange for supplies and promises that they won't enter their stocks. Watershed, on the other hoof, let slaving caravans use it's bridge and often kidnapped visitors to sell to the occasional lone buyer. Besides, the Purebred were planning on taking it over and renovating it into a more openly pro-slaver town, which would force a big chunk of ponies in this area to be forced to give money to scum going south."

I took a deep breath, to hide my shock at her words. It seems as if Blueberry and I really were lucky.

"Rollcall must be a good pony, then." I said, even though he had what was probably most of a town of ponies in a small circle, probably to make the executions easier.

Shiv, for some reason, decided to get off the couch and jump on the ground, shaking her head as she did. "I guess. Most of his crew are former slaves. He's a escapee from Stalliongrad. There used to be a stallion called the Tsar down in the place who said he was the lord of the city because he was a unicorn of noble blood. Rollcall led a break out, saved about forty ponies."

Another pony town, this one sounding far off. "He sound's like he would fit in with the Purebreds, then. The Tsar, I mean."

Shiv, by then, was around the back of the vehicle, apparently checking the big mounted guns.

"Yeah, he would've. But there's a lot of nutjob's down in Equestria who think their the decedent's of nobility. It's actually a pretty common thing."

Truly, I was fascinated by these tales of crazy pastel ponies. "Really?"

Shiv let out a little laugh, one that almost fooled me into thinking that she wasn't a mercenary working for the pony who had shot up the town I had planned on staying in for at least a good amount of time and who wasn't checking two guns that could take out large chunks of said building.

"Oh, yeah. It's like there's some sort of mental illness down there that makes unicorn's loopy. There's the Masked Mare's down in New Pegasus, the Honorable Society of Post-Wartime Gentlestallions in Detrot, the Duchy of Hazard in Chicagcolt, heck, there's even a bunch of ponies down south in the Hoof that call themselves the Society. Just Society. Like they're the only ponies around who are civilized, because they live in a big house."

I let myself laugh, finally pushing the idea that they would possibly recognize my voice into the gutter and allowing myself to become a little more relaxed.

"So, what is this thing, anyway?"

Shiv smiled broadly. "We call it the Super Slaughter Shooty Shelly Sniper 6000."

I blinked. Perhaps I had judged her sanity too soon. "Why?"

"That's the name of it!" Shank replied to me, up on the couch, "And it's catchier after you say it a few times."

Shiv smiled hesitantly at her sisters words, before shrugging once and turning back to the two guns. "Yeah. But the name come's from these right here. Two Notus-Class magical anti-aircraft cannons!" she said as she patted the base of one of the huge cylinders fondly, "These two babies only need a bit of magical energy and the runes inside them do the rest. All it takes to keep it running is the occasional pinch of ruby dust and a bit of oil here and there. Me and my sister rigged it up ourselves; we got it off this old zebra robot down near the Hoof."

I suddenly realized that I was looking at yet another pony seemingly obsessed with guns, albeit one who at least seemed pretty mild as far as ponies went.

Looking up at the building, up at the very top of the big steel & glass slab, I understood that I had a plan forming in my head. It was a crazy, utterly mad plan, but if it worked, I could say that I actually managed to convince a group of heavily armed ponies to stand down and stop harassing a group of ponies that I hoped with give me some sort of reward. I gripped the little white comb in my left palm, remembering what I was even doing here anyway.

"Hey, Shiv? Do you think Rollcall would let me borrow his megaphone if I told him there was a griffon on the roof with a innocent filly who needed to get down?"

Thanks, M. A. Larson.

Thanks, M. A. Larson.

"Amor et mors."

When I actually managed to get the pony who was in charge of the band of seemingly anti-slaver fighters to give over his megaphone so I could contact another third party who could feasibly be trusted, I thought I was doing something right.

When a very confused Gabriel flew down from the roof after the third or so time I yelled that it was safe, bringing a confused but happy Candy Cane with him on his back, I thought I had managed to save the town from being destroyed.

When said mercantile griffon talked to said quite possibly good pony and confirmed my own story that the town held no slaves, and, in fact, seemed to be a pretty decent community, said pony in charge of the band of anti-slaver fighters just rolled his shoulders and looked like was going to order Shiv and Shank to aim their guns at the two of us before Candy Cane made a sad face.

When Candy Cane made a sad face, Rollcall seemed to reassess his priorities and his stony slate grey face seemed to contort in strange ways before heading inside the hotel.

When Rollcall exited the hotel, he was accompanied by one of the ponies who was in the captured group, a white-coated mare with a dark pink mane and two green gems hanging from piercings on her ear, who introduced herself hesitantly to Gabriel and I as Charity. She thanked us for courageously stepping forward and for quite possibly saving the community from further destruction, and that we would be rewarded handsomely for stepping in and revealing the mistake that Rollcall's group made in assuming that they harbored slavers.

When we were led back inside the hotel itself, I saw that the townsponies were no longer gathered in a tight group and that the two given groups within the hotel were occupying roughly one half of the lobby, both eyeing each other suspiciously but not pointing guns at each other at the moment.

When I felt something odd rise up in my chest, it took me a few moments to realize that I actually managed to defuse a situation where a bunch of silly ponies where going to shoot at one another. It took me a few moments to realize that I was feeling proud of myself.

But, when the two of us were told very nicely that we were to stay in a small cheerfully painted room off to the side of the main hall, I wasn't especially pleased, nor was I happy that I was told I might have to stay in there for a while so that 'diplomatic negotiations' could go underway without outside involvement.

And so, Gabriel, Candy Cane, and myself were confined to a small room with only pony-sized chairs and a coffee machine to keep ourselves company.

We were trapped like this for about an hour.

None of us really talked to each other for most of that time, because Gabriel was keep giving me incredulous looks, I was busy hoping that the ponies outside wouldn't shoot us, and Candy Cane just kept making the machine fill small foam cups with pitch-black coffee and downed them seconds after they were filled to the brim, only to start making another cup immediately after.

After drinking the sixth or seventh cup, she stopped drinking and started to rock around in place slightly, eyes wide open and smiling brightly. I was worried at first, but Gabriel said that coffee wasn't a realdrug and she wouldn't get brain damage from it or anything, so I just moved the filly away from the door and hoped that she wouldn't crash. At least she was quiet.

But, a silence like that couldn't last, and Gabriel was the one who decided to break it fully.

"Just so you know, this plan is stupid."

I looked at the griffon, who doing his best to drink from one of the little white foam cups without his beak utterly destroying it and give me a unamused look at the same time.

"It was stupid. It isn't my plan at this point." I replied.

"I had to take off my armor and leave my gun up there to bring the kid with me;" he said sourly, pointing at the spaced-out filly sitting in one of the corners, "I mean, I don't know if you're not working for that Rollcall guy or not, or just a Purebred lackey."

I opened my mouth slightly and raised my hands in exasperation, putting my elbows on my knees and placing my head in my outstretched hands. "I'm not working for anyone. That's why I am here. To get some sort of job."

Gabriel stared at me for a few moments, looking a bit tense, but eventually just sighed and shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip of his drink. "Whatever. Doesn't matter at this point. Just would've thought that, if I was going to get shot up, whoever would kill me would leave me with my stuff. If some oversized stallion just knock's down that door in front of us, we wouldn't even nice funerals, even."

I couldn't help but smile; the griffon sounded like Copper Pot, if just a little.

"Would you want to be buried in you're armor?"

My question gave him some pause, and he mulled the question over.

"Never thought of it like that. Wouldn't see the point in it, really, unless I died fighting, which I don't plan on doing."

He paused for a few moments, looking up at the tile ceiling. "Honestly, I just don't want to be killed by some ponies and have my stuff treated like loot."

I nodded. "I suppose that is true. My kind do not bury our dead, to be honest."

He raised a eyebrow. "Huh. So you just leave the body out for everypony to see or something?"

I nodded. "Those who died in battle, or have led, have their bodies burned until they are ash. Those who simply died of accident are taken by the hunters and defenders of the community and left in a isolated location, where they are unlikely to be disturbed. Those who died in shame are carved up and left in exposed areas, to attract radhogs."

Gabriel looked a little queasy. "Yeash, that's pretty nasty."

I shrugged. "I suppose. But my community lies on a hilly plane, and the ground is hard and their are many places to hide, and most do not go out of their was to explore it. Besides, the methods of the body's disposal matters only to the living, right?"

Gabriel waved to nothing in particular with his free hand as he took another sip of coffee. "That's a way to put it."

He paused for a few moments, and attempted to scratch off what looked like a pale bloody bit of meat stuck stubbornly to the left side of his beak. "What do you think happens to us when we kick the bucket?"

It wasn't a question I expected from someone like him; he seemed to be one of those individuals who lived to live.

"It's generally rude to ask something like that without stating you're opinion first." I replied.

He raised his eyebrow at me again, but he let out a little snort of laughter.

"I'v never had a reason to think about death, cause I try to avoid getting killed, like a sane griffon." he said slowly, trying to find the right words, "Some guy's I grew up with worshiped the griffon gods, but I never saw much of a point. As far as I can tell, the only really powerful being that ever existed were the pony princesses, and both of them 'ascended' or whatever they call it, so if those two are dead or not it really doesn't matter in the long run. If I die, and there is something besides nothingness waiting for me, I hope that whatever's the big boss there could appreciate a skeptic."

I processed what he said, and after I was satisfied with it, I replied to him.

"Most of my kind believe that, after we die, we go to Tartarus."

Gabriel blinked. "Huh."

I chuckled at his reaction. "When one of my people dies, it's generally thought that their spirit is funneled into Tartarus, where they join the legions dedicated to keeping the prisoners sealed inside it. Those that died fighting are given powerful forms of brass and fire, as their mortal forms were to be destroyed and require suitable replacements in the afterlife. while those who lived normal lives join the ranks of the dead, either continuing their crafts or assisting in the armies. On the other hand, those who died unhonorable deaths are thought to join the prisoners themselves, and as such their bodies are mutilated to prevent them from being threats to there fellows."

Gabriel stared at me for a few seconds before closing his eyes and breathing in deeply.

"That's pretty awesome." he said, almost reverently, "Okay, I got to admit, any afterlife where you get to spend you're time made of metal and fire is pretty great."

"If you wish to fight. I wouldn't want to. I would rather die peacefully of age then dying because some pony thought I was trying to kill them."

He smirked slightly, but it wasn't a unfriendly smirk. "I don't blame you."

The pause that happened the conversation occurred naturally, but not unwelcomed. I watched Candy Cane for a few moments, but she seemed content to entertain herself with whatever was going on in her head.

"How was Blueberry doing?" I decided to ask, trying to keep the griffon talking now that he was in a good mood.

He didn't answer until he went to the coffee machine again and got another cup of coffee. He downed the entire cup before answering me, and that didn't mare me feel any better about the situation.

"She put on some crazy red and black magical thing and her eyes turned bright red, but otherwise she acted like any other pony in the middle of a fight. " he replied, giving me a look that told me that he demanded an answer.

"That's her Alicorn Amulet. I don't know what it is either." I replied, hoping that I didn't sound like I knew almost exactly what it was. "I wouldn't bother her with it."

"Hey, I'm not judging. She could want to be a brain in a jar for all I care, I just didn't like the way she kept eyeing Maria."

Feeling lost, I was about to question who he was talking about, until he answered me.

"Maria's the name of my gun." he replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, "She's the only thing I have from my home."

I looked at Gabriel, wondering how to assess him. He seemed like a good person to be on the good side of, and even if he was a little abrasive and suspicious of almost everything around him.

"Mind telling me about you're from?" I decided to ask, hoping that he wouldn't be offended.

He shook his head. "Only if you tell me why you're traveling around with a crazy unicorn and a filly, and a explanation about what was up with the fish pony thing wouldn't hurt."

I hesitated for a few moments, I will admit. But, I wouldn't want to be considered a hypocrite.

"I was exiled out of my own community because I failed a test. Blueberry was spending the night there, and we were sent out by my grandfather to this city, as she wished to go to the Crystal Empire and, in exchange for me helping her, I would get a place to live and part of what she obtained from that place, allowing me to live comfortably. We met Sea Salt; that is the name of the sea pony, on the way to Watershed, and let her free from her confinement."

"You let the giant pony eating mutant loose?" he questioned, raising a eyebrow, "Sure that was a good idea?"

"No," I replied, "but that's besides the point. Anyway, we made our way to Watershed, where we found Candy Cane in a nearby building."

Gabriel glanced over at the filly, who was currently content with rolling around on the floor and giggling lightly.

"Is she, uh, all there in the head?"

I watched her move around on the carpet, giggling and wiggling her legs was she did, and I think I waited too long to answer him.

"I would think so, but she sort of alternate's between being cute and creepy." I replied.

"Yeah, she sort of reminds me of a Dashbaby or something. Who are you taking care of her for, anyway?"

I breathed through clenched teeth, and he just shook his head at me, motioning over at the filly with a wave of a talon. "She doesn't act like she's really attached to you. You're taking care of her for a pony. Who?"

Damn it, either I was a bad liar or he was simply good at figuring things out.

"Candy Cane is an orphan. She was being raised by a ghoul who didn't trust other ponies."

Gabriel's eyes went wide for a few moments, but he soon recovered.

"Well, I was thinking that she was some Purebred's foal, she's looks clean enough, but if she got raised by a ghoul that could explain why she's..." he stopped talking for a few moments, and his feathery brow furrowed, "like that."

"I suppose you are right." I said, unsure if he was right or not. It was surely something to consider. "But I believe it's you're turn to tell me you're life story."

The griffon just rolled his eyes, but relented. "I grew up in a Stable that a few dozen griffons found and cleaned up so it was usable. It was in the mountains, so we didn't get many visitors, which was good. But there were some raiders who found out where we were, so we fought them sometimes. One day, my mom took me and my sis out of the Stable and led us to one of the raider camps and shot two stragglers. Then she gave us their guns and told us to not come back until all of them were dead."

When he was finished, I managed to close my mouth and come up with a adequate response.

"You're mother sounds like a horrible person."

He shrugged. "Eh, she's sort of a bitch, but what can I say? Tough love and all that."

I stared at the griffon, unsure how I was supposed to take that story.

"So, is Maria the gun you got from the raider?"

Apparently, I was right, because he nodded, and decided to talk about something else.

"You know, you should probably get away from that Blueberry mare. She's insane if she think's she could get to the Empire."

I was confused where that line of thinking was coming from, but I didn't comment on it. "It's irradiated, right?"

He looked at me with something between boredom and amusement. "Irradiation isn't half of it. It's surrounded by a permanent necromantic winter. Believe me, she wouldn't be the first to die trying to get through it."

I sighed lightly. "I suppose she wouldn't."

"And if she got through, she would probably have to deal with the crystal ponies." he continued, "If there's any left, anyway."

I realized what he was saying, and I decided to jump at the topic. "What make's a crystal pony different then a regular one?"

Gabriel took another sip of coffee, apparently giving it thought.

"Well, they are really weird. I'v only met one, but she was kinda glittery. I found her halfway buried in snow and she didn't have any symptoms of frostbite or anything, but her skin felt cold as ice. She said she was stuck like that for years, but she also didn't know the war ended or knew what her name was, so..."

Gabriel stopped speaking and his wing's flared a bit, as if he had nothing else to say.

"Are they actually made of crystals?" I asked.

"Honestly, I don't know." he replied, sounding baffled himself, "I think they're pretty much like ghouls, but shinier. Like, as long as they are shiny or whatever, they won't die naturally."

"That's really... bizarre." I replied, feeling like I he had as much as an idea about what they really were as I did, "I have heard stories about how the Empire is still inhabited."

Gabriel didn't answer my question, because he was too busy looking utterly scared for his life.

"Creatures, cease you're ignorant prattling." a unfamiliar, powerfully feminine voice echoed from the other end of the room, but it was loud enough to make me feel like it was speaking right in my ear.

When I looked at what was standing in front of the open door, I nearly pissed myself. I have no shame in admitting that.

It was a pony, or something like a pony, as tall as I was and colored a blue so dark I almost mistook it for black at first glance, from mane to coat to tail. It had wings as large as Gabriel's, easily, and it had a horn that was probably taller then Blueberry herself.

It also looked amazingly bored as it stared at us, standing still like a statue, even with Candy Cane laying on her back almost directly in front of it and trying to look as small as possible.

"We will ask you to follow Us only once." it spoke, as apathetic and cruel as anything that has ever lived, "This is that time."

He's Not The Main Antagonist, But He's Close Enough For Where It Counts

"Celestia saves and Luna protects, but neither of them are paying my salary. That's Twilight Sparkle, so if you think praying to her will get you through here, go ahead sweetie, but it won't help you."

The big blue pony thing that was occupying most of the end of the room was giving me the evil eye, leaving Gabriel sitting very still and me trying not to make any sudden movements. The creature, only seconds after it finished speaking, lowered it's head closer to the floor and gave me a withering look, as if it could kill me if it just thought hard enough.

The Alicorn, because that was the name of what it was, if I remembered what I had heard from the radio in my home, looked like it was offended by our existence and wished to rectify it. It looked like it wanted to do horrible things to me on principle.

But, before I could even process what it was saying, or consider the real threat that such a dangerous, nigh mythical creature posed to me, Candy Cane decided to boop it on the nose with a hoof and let out a little giggle afterwards.

A look of shock passed over the creature's face, it's expression of stony arrogance and infinite contempt for everything that wasn't itself being lost as it's eyes widened with disbelief. It's face was strange, with it's eyes on the sides of it's head and muzzle elongated, but even it's alienness didn't stop me from seeing that it was looking straight at the filly which could have been a tenth of it's impressive size.

"You dare touch Us, little one?" it spoke, it's whisper still somehow carrying more weight than the average pony's shout, "Do you know who We are?"

I heard Gabriel mutter something under his breath, and it sounded something like 'Oh why me.'.

"You're pretty!" Candy Cane replied cheerfully.

The Alicorn continued to look at Candy Cane like she was the most fascinating creature in the universe.

"That we are." it spoke after a moment or so, with no hint of irony, "We are the Goddess. You interest me, small one. What is your name?"

I felt a sudden surge of queasiness in my gut when I realized that me and Gabriel's chances on getting out of here revolved around whether or not Candy Cane could appease the giant pony who spoke in third person.

"My name is Candy Cane, miss Goddess!" the filly replied brightly, without any bit of hesitation.

The Alicorn didn't acknowledge her response physically, but I was starting to notice that the creature didn't move much at all. Even it's wings, half extended and built wider than Gabriel's, were still enough to look like one solid dark blue mass.

"Young filly, you amuse me." it quipped, "We do believe that you would be a fine candidate for Unity, if you had been born a unicorn."

"What's that?" Candy Cane asked politely.

"We are Unity." the Alicorn said, as if that answered the filly's question and left no room to doubt it's authority, "But We are simply a part of it. One piece of a whole."

It paused, but I couldn't tell why just from sight. "You're fearlessness is endearing. Who whelped you into existence, small one?"

"My mama." she replied, which surprised me, because I didn't expect her to know what the word 'whelped' meant.

The Alicorn smirked the meanest little smirk I had ever seen at Candy Cane's reply. I think it might have been amused or insulted by the filly's reply, but I wasn't sure which.

"What is the name of your mother?" it said.

"My mama's name is..."

Candy Cane rubbed the right side of her head with a hoof.

"My mama's name is Iron Chain, miss Unity!"

When I heard what Candy Cane said, I couldn't help but evaluate what she told me what her mother did.

I felt a little sick when I realized that I was probably being optimistic when I thought her mother ferried around ponies in a wagon.

"Oh, is that so?" the Alicorn replied, a tinge of interest in her tone betraying that it was considering the filly in a different light, "Do you know who Red Eye is, little one?"

Candy Cane nodded quickly, "Uh huh! My mama worked for him! She brought ponies to a place she said he owned, and when she brought them there, other ponies gave her caps!"

The Alicorn, at that, raised her head up a little and began to laugh. It sounded like cruelty in audio form.

Feeling like this was not going to be one of my better days, I turned slightly to the right, as I didn't want to look at Candy Cane directly. Seeing that most of Gabriel's extremities were twitching slightly and that he looked at me like he was considering putting that beak of his to use on me, I shook my head and hoped that I got across that I was just as unpleasantly surprised by what she said as he did.

Needless to say, it didn't work.

"Ah, such a precious child!" the Alicorn spoke loudly, as if it was speaking to an audience, as opposed to a filly and two weary adults, "Yes, you shall be spared today, but as for your friends..."

Gabriel got off the chair he was sitting on and, leaving his coffee behind, started walking slowly towards the Alicorn. I decided to do the same, because I wanted to live.

"Oh, you seemed to have them well trained! Truly, little one, you are more than what you seem!" it said to Candy Cane, sounding like it was enjoying itself, "Little one, if you wish, We shall lead you and you're slaves to where you are to be at now."

"Okay miss Unity. But they arn't my slaves, they are my friends!" Candy Cane said chipperly as the Alicorn started to turn into the hall.

The big blue mare gave Gabriel and I a disinterested glare before returning it's gaze to Candy Cane. "If you believe."

I didn't know what that meant, and I couldn't see the look on Candy Cane's face, but I forced myself to keep looking forward when the Alicorn walked out of the room, Candy Cane following too closely behind it for my taste. Also, I kept looking forward because Gabriel started cursing wildly as soon as the Alicorn left the room and I didn't wish to attract his direct attention by looking at him for too long.

When we left the room, we didn't say anything to each other, but I noticed Gabriel kept looking too closely at my jugular for my taste. I couldn't blame him, I suppose, but I kept myself on guard until we arrived to where the Alicorn was leading us.

Which wasn't for long, because the the room where the alleged peace talk was one door down from where we were.

I found darkly funny for some reason.

The scene where we entered in was almost a miniature of what the hotel's lobby looked like, if far more heavily armed.

There was a large wooden table separating the room into two sides. The one closest to the door was Rollcall's group. He himself had discarded his jacket at some point in the last hour as well as his hat, which showed that his slate blue body was largely defined and was peppered with small scars, to the point where his back was an off-white color because of the lack of fur. Without his hat, I could see that he didn't even have much of a scalp, with much of the right side of his head a mass of scar tissue and having a hole where a ear should have been. He didn't even have a cutie mark, with the patch of flesh where it should have been displayed a shiny red mess.

He was flanked by two other ponies, one of both genders, bearing battle saddles and greenish-grey combat armor but unarmed nevertheless. I could see that on the far side of the room, there was a small collection of large guns; presumably it wasn't practical to take off those saddles in a place like this. The two of them had stern looks on their faces, but they were unnerved when the group I was in came through the door, which was understandable. I could only imagine that a pony, in a fight between a minotaur, a griffon, and a Alicorn, it wasn't a question of if they would die so much as which one of them would kill them first.

The first thing I noticed about Charity's side of the table was that she also had two guards, and both attracted my attention immediately.

I smiled slightly when I saw Karen, unharmed and perfectly alive. Her guns were gone and she didn't seem injured, but she didn't look like she especially happy at the moment and she didn't seem to be especially relieved that I was alive, so my smile faded quickly.

The other mare next to Charity was one I did not recognize. She had a light yellow coat with a orange mane, and she looked like she wasn't used to smiling often. She wore a bluish-grey jumpsuit of a sorts, one which had more then a few pockets lining it's sides, and I couldn't help but notice that it had the number 73 emblazoned on the back of it in big bold letters. She also had two large, bulky objects around her hooves; each a blueish-green in color and consisting of two pistons, a large metal plate, and a moderate amount of metal acting as a sort of glove for the hoof. I had no idea what they were, but they both looked heavy and, presumably, both were weapons.

Seeing that I didn't know where to start when it came to asking questions of extreme relevance to my interests, such as why I was stuck in a room for an hour with a griffon who probably wanted to kill me at this point and why, for example, a Alicorn was walking around so far up north, I said nothing at first, preferring to simply stand still and smile blankly at the ponies centered at the table.

The room was silent for a few moments.

Then, Rollcall spoke up, sounding quite unamused, hard eyes staring at out general direction.

"This is a farce." he said roughly, turning back to Charity, who was giving him a big grin that I didn't feel was genuine, "You cannot possibly expect me to believe that you are telling the truth."

The mare let out a little snort and shook her head at him, as if she was scolding someone half her age, when it looked like the opposite might have been true. "Oh, but I am! Griffon, you work for Dive Bomb, right?"

Gabriel let himself relax slightly; I saw that he wasn't clenching his claws as tightly as he did before. "I do."

Charity giggled. "So, you can say that you are not contract-bound to protect the interests of the Purebred and it's encompassing groups? Just Dive Bomb's interests, which happen to be part of the Purebred's."

Gabriel spoke immediately after Charity finished speaking. "That would be correct, miss."

"So you don't have a reason to lie about what you think about the Purebred, but you are contractually obligated to state the truth if it would help the Purebred?" she said pointedly, making me realize where she was going with this.

"That would be correct." Gabriel replied, sounding a little sour.

"So, are you currently obligated to help protect or serve any pony in this room?"

Gabriel took a deep breath. "No."

Charity turned to Rollcall, motioning at the door we just came through. "That'll be all, honey. You're stuff is up on the roof with you're friends. The filly can go with you too."

Gabriel suddenly looked very uneasy, and it took me a few moments to realize that either he never told her his name, or she had gotten it from other ponies.

Candy Cane, on the other hand, didn't look so upset, and she followed Gabriel happily as he walked out the door. I was slightly thankful that she didn't say anything to Charity, because at this point I didn't think I could stand near her for a few days.

But, after they left, that left me in a room with five unfamiliar ponies, one donkey with which I had slight acquaintance with, and a Alicorn, who was standing far too still for my tastes.

"So, do you say it as 'Goddess' or 'The Goddess'?" Charity quipped, motioning at the Alicorn, "Or do you want to be addressed as 'Unity'?"

The Alicorn turned it's head to look at Charity, almost on cue. "We are to be addressed as The Goddess."

I stepped to the right slightly, so I didn't feel like the creature's wings could touch me if they extended to their full length.

"Well, that's fine with me." Charity said casually, before motioning to Rollcall, who looked like he wasn't happy with anything that was going on around him, "Great one, would you mind telling the stallion other there why you are here today?"

The Alicorn raised a eyebrow at Charity, but shrugged a very stiff little shrug and looked over at Rollcall, who flinched lightly when it turned it's gaze at him. When it saw that he was slightly uncomfortable at the sight of itself, the creature smirked slightly.

"We were invited to the wedding of the pony known as Boffenspark. We were contacted by the usage of a terminal where We dwell, and We were both amused and flattered."

Rollcall, looking slightly unnerved, eyed Charity, who just kept the same smile on her face.

"Thank you, Goddess." Charity replied to the Alicorn's words, sounding far too bored to even pretend to put any meaning in her words, "As an apology for taking you're time, I have had the waters within the baths changed for you're leisure."

The Alicorn did not seem to especially care, but as it left the room, I thought I saw another smirk pass over it's face.

When it left, I had the attention of the room, the room full of dangerous ponies who I didn't have a reason to trust. I saw the orange mare shift slightly in place, and the two large gauntlets she wore echoed through the room. I saw one of Rollcall's guards look me over once, as if trying to see if I had any means of defending myself.

"So, we know you are working for Nightcore." Charity said lightly, as if she was trying to break news lightly to me, "And according to the chunky blue mare you and the filly came with, you've done stuff with Charnel and Troubadour. And all three of them hate each other, and I know for sure that you had something to do with Cheesecake Crumbles and her friends being off'ed in that farce down near the river. So, I have two options to consider."

She paused, and gave me a gentle smile. "Either you are working with all three, and all of them are in cahoots and you're a new minion who they've kept out of sight, or you just happen to be the unluckiest son of a bitch in the wasteland."

To put it bluntly, I was boned.

"It's the latter."

At that, Charity let out a whooping laugh and hit the table a few times, and I think I saw Karen smile slightly. Even Rollcall's two guardponies looked slightly relaxed.

The yellow mare didn't laugh, though. She just kept the same expression she had on her face as she did before, bright blue eyes unblinking and small mouth unmoving. I, quite suddenly, was missing the company of the Alicorn.

"Well, now that that's settled," Charity managed to get out after her last bout of laughter, "Mind telling me how you plan on explaining my brother in law's death to my sister and her three foals?"

I felt like my mind was growing fuzzy and my heart pumping in my chest, and I realized who she must be talking about. I looked at Karen, who had adverted her gaze from me some time ago.

"Temperance." I replied weakly, "I didn't kill him. Please, I didn't-"

Charity shook her head, and her fake smile turned into a fake frown. "Of course you didn't, sweetheart. The glass in room he was killed in was buckled inwards, so the bullet came in from outside."

Rollcall gave Charity a spiteful glare, but the mare didn't seem to notice, or care. I tried to see if Karen reacted to what the mare was saying, and to my mild confusion and despair she wasn't.

"But that doesn't matter, actually. With Temperance dead and my sister away for a week or so, she doesn't have to know he was killed with you and you're friends in the room." Charity said, jade-colored eyes as green as the jewels hanging off her ears big and wide and filled with nothing but greed, "But the thing is, Prudence doesn't like to think that things happen 'by accident'. She see's conspiracies everywhere."

Charity paused, waving a hoof around exaggeratedly, "But, for you're safety, I think we can make a deal right here. I appreciate the fact that you managed to stop the good gentlestallion," she motioned over to Rollcall, "from utterly destroying Dayside. So, I have a offer for you."

After Charity finished speaking, Rollcall leaned slightly away from the table and whispered something to the stallion at his left, but I wasn't sure what he said, only that it made his eye's widen slightly.

Deciding to wait for Rollcall to finish speaking, I waited for him to turn back to Charity, and made the point to nod slightly after I saw that he was finished. I didn't see a reaction from him, but the guard he spoke to nodded briskly in my direction.

"What would happen to me if I declined your offer, Charity?"

Charity blinked, and I saw a fleeting amount of surprise on her face.

"Well, I could have Charger here," she paused motioning over to the orange mare next to her,"break your arms and legs with her big metal hooves and have you moved into a supply closet until my little sister comes back. Then Charger would probably just have to crush your skull a few days later."

The orange mare, Charger, apparently, didn't react to being called by name. She just kept looking at me intently, like I was a especially interesting piece of furniture. A piece of furniture that she could break with her big metal hooves.

"Or, I could tell the our special guest, the Goddess, that you aren't under our protection." Charity said, somehow keeping a smile on her face, "Or the filly, or Blubbery Cream or whatever her name was. You wouldn't last long. She likes to kill things, you see. Or, I could just tell all the townsponies outside that you killed Temperance and those two poor ponies you stumbled on when you arrived her."

The way she said that, without any real malice, just fake sugary sweetness, made my stomach churn. Karen did give me a apologetic look, one that did make me feel slightly better.

"I take you're point. What would this deal be, then?"

Charity smiled. "Oh, well, the fact of the matter is, you're friend said you wanted a job in the Purebred. Is that correct?"

Suddenly, I had the feeling that this day was only going to get worse and worse.

"That is true." I said, deciding to not say anything especially rash, like adding that I didn't expect my life to be on the line.

"Well, I could have you set up as part of Boffenspark's security at his wedding. There's going to be so many ponies there, you understand. But, Boffenspark has a bit of a problem."

I took a breath. "What sort of problem?"

Charity's grin grew a little bigger. "He has a very powerful pony after his head. His name is Silent Night, and he is a ghoul from before the war who just hates him for whatever reason. Naturally, this is his mortal enemy's wedding, so he's going to try and crash it. Boffenspark, because he isn't stupid, has surrounded himself with some of the most powerful ponies who trust him. He even pulled some strings so he could have that alicorn around to protect himself." Charity rolled her eyes, as if that was simply too much. "There was already going to be guards everywhere, but supposedly Silent Night is a powerful magic user, so security is going to be extremely tight. That's where you and you're friends come in."

I suddenly had the feeling that my life was getting far too complicated for my tastes.

"And I'm going to help keep this 'Silent Night' from killing Boffenspark?" I asked.

Charity, for a few moments, looked over at Rollcall, who looked almost disgusted that he was in the same room as her. She looked over at Karen, who was doing the exact same thing but was hiding it pretty well. She looked over at Charger, who looked as blank as ever.

After looking over the room, she looked at me, fluttered her eyes, and spoke.

"No, sweetie, you and you're friends are going to help kill Boffenspark."

She Isn't Either, But She's Pushing It At This Point

"Arn't you sure you don't want to sing something more lighthearted?"

Needless to say, I was slightly confused.

When I looked at all the little equines in the room, and saw that none of them were remotely surprised at Charity's words, I felt lost and annoyed. Mostly annoyed.

"If I am going to help kill a pony," I said finally, surprising myself that I managed to get the words out of my mouth, "I would want to know why he should be killed.."

Charity's big smile didn't falter at my question. "He's a nutter who nopony likes, and besides, Pyra's overdue to be killed anyway. Boffenspark doesn't want to be leader of the Pure, and he wants to make as many ponies in it as weak as possible before he eventually skip's town. He want's to see the Purebred weak."

I was getting a headache from trying to understand what the mare was saying. "So he is the leader, but he doesn't want to be the leader? Why?"

"No, Pyra is the leader of the Purebred." she corrected swiftly, "Boffenspark is just a insane stallion who somehow attracted Pyra's affections. He also has a small army of robots we've been paying him not to use for about six years, but now he's about to become king. Or grand duke or something." Charity paused, shrugging her shoulders and looking at me like I had a better idea what she was talking about then she did. "It's all pay grade stuff. But that doesn't matter, now does it?"

I looked at Rollcall, who, despite looking thoroughly stony and uninviting, looked like he knew just as much as what Charity was talking about as I did.

"So, instead of Boffenspark or Pyria, who would be in charge?" I asked, not really caring.

Charity shrugged. "Pyra does have two siblings, but one's a coward and one's too, ah, special to be a contestant. So, it would probably be Rimewind or Frostbite or another higher ranking pony."

"Not you?" I asked, wondering.

Charity giggled lightly. "Oh, no. I'm no fool; I'm happy right here, in this little domain of mine. I got mine, and all I want is to keep it."

To my surprise, the vicious little pony sounded honest. Another little pony seemed to be peeved that said little pony seemed perfectly happy.

"This 'little domain' will have my ponies in it for another day and a half." Rollcall spoke up, voice firm. "If my ponies are going to help some new regime get set up in this cursed city, I want it to be a good one."

Charity raised a eyebrow, but after a few moment's her eyes widened slightly and she let out another giggle. "Oh, right, that. Don't worry, I like brutal slavers as much as the next pony, but if a bunch of freedom fighters suddenly showed up in the middle of a firefight and shot up some ponies who are on the wrong side of a conflict, I wouldn't weep for them."

"Boffenspark has slavers for allies?" I questioned, moving closer to the table so I could feel like I was part of the conversation.

"No, Pyra does." Charity clarified. "Of course, most of Pyra's bodyguards are slavers, so there's not going to be some pesky moral issues when it comes to shooting at her, will there?"

It took a sorry look from Karen to realize that Charity wasn't speaking to me.

"My ponies will not have much issue in doing so, I would think." Rollcall answered tonelessly. "But before we get on with the specifics, I do not want any more third party's knowing about how my ponies will be placed."

Charity let out an exaggerated sigh. "So paranoid. I thought ponies like you were supposed to be trusting. But, if you insist..."

She then gave me a quick, dismissive sort of look. "Well, time for you to skedaddle. You're friends should still all be up on the roof, and you'll get briefed on what you'll be expected to do later."

I wanted answers from the little pony sitting in front of me, no, needed answers, but I knew that I was unarmed and outnumbered, so I turned to the door and left the room, upset at both myself and everything else around me.

The upper floors of the hotel were, for a lack of a better word, moldering.

I could only assume that the ponies only lived on the first six floors or so, because the seventh floor was slightly water damaged and the eight floor had a bleached femur in the middle of the hallway. The ninth floor seemed to have had a former Radroach infestation and the tenth floor had more of the same as the ninth with the added addition of more water damage and fungus.

The eleventh floor, thankfully, was bare of any carpeting and seemed to be a utility floor, and it was there that I found the spotter's nest that Gabriel kept talking about, the door of which was distinguished from all the other slightly rusty metal doors only due to the addition of the words "SECRET SNIPER NEST' written on it with bold green marker. After a few moments of thinking about what was the point of putting a sign on what was supposed to be a secret and simply deciding that it was some sort of pony joke, I knocked on the door twice and, waiting another few moments and not getting an answer, pushed it open and walked in.

The room, I immediately noticed, was missing the entire section of the wall that was the border between it and open air.

The second thing I noticed was that Candy Cane was sleeping on the right side of the room next to a pile of bags I was familiar with, using a leg as a rest for her head, curled into a ball under what looked like Blueberry's black robe. I couldn't help but feel a little sad, but my immediate thoughts on what could be sad or not were shot when I noticed that there was a large gun on a bipod sitting near the edge of the room, pointed downward at the street.

As I walked into the room, I couldn't help but wonder if Blueberry was on the roof or not, but I stopped wondering where she was when I heard a most unfortunate noise.

The sound of a laser pistol being turned on.

As I turned around, I saw why.

Blueberry was wearing her Steel Ranger robes, which were splattered with blood from her left front hoof all the way to her opposite shoulder, staining the dark blue fabric a dark, blackish red. The Alicorn Amulet was on her neck as well, and her eyes were glowing as deep a red as the ruby thing on her neck. She had Self Defence beside her, hovering in a aura of red magic, but also had another thing next to her I didn't recognize; a silvery half-circle with a clasp on one side, made of leather and metal.

I realized, quite abruptly, that I had a very good chance of dying that day.

"Blueberry, why are you bloody?" I tried to ask without sounding like I was panicking, which I was.

My question seemed to make her upset, and the scowl on her face turned into a sneer. "Do you know what you have made me do? Do you know how much you have fucked up today, Watchful?" she said hatefully before pausing, to roll her eyes.

"Get on your knees."

I took a step back, worried about the sudden change of topic. "Blueberry, please, take off the Amu-"

"No!" she yelled, and her magic grew a faintly darker shade of red. "I'm not going to listen to your shitty advice! You got us roped into some sort of...some sort of assassination attempt, and I'm going to have to fix this whole stupid thing! Get on your knees before I blow them off!"

I took a step forward towards Blueberry, stupidly. "What do think you are going to do, Blueberry?"

She raised the silvery thing beside her and waved it around, giving me a mocking look of false cheer. "Well, first off, this explosive collar is going around your neck. Then, we are leaving this place and I'm going to kill everything that tries to stop me. Then we are going to the Crystal Empire."

"Why?" I asked, trying to figure out a way to grab the Amulet without her getting a shot off.

A pained look passed over her face, but she pointed the gun at my head and moved it around a bit in the air. "Just put on the damn collar!"

I looked at the collar, wondering if it could even fit around my neck, and then down at Blueberry, who was looking rather petulant about the whole thing. "I'm not an animal, Blueberry. I don't think I need a collar."

A fascinating array of emotions passed over the crazy pony's little face, and after a few moments she shook her head and lowered her gun slightly. "Put it on right now, or I'll treat you like an animal for the rest of the trip until we are done in the Crystal Empire. Do you want that to happen, Watchful? Do you want to be treated like a dog?"

I eyed the collar, trying to make it seem like I was considering it. "I will put it on if you tell me where the blood came from, Blueberry."

I suddenly realized that my idea of antagonizing of the crazy pony enough to get her guard down was a folly when she pointed her gun at Candy Cane.

She didn't need to say what she was doing, and she grinned when she saw the look on my face.

"This entire trip has been stupid and pointless and we should have never have come here." she continued, sounding confident as she grinned triumphantly up at me, "But I don't blame you for it. Really, it was my fault for listening to you."

"Blueberry." I croaked out, "Don't do what you are going to do. Don't shoot her."

At that, she laughed. It was a spiteful, false laugh, probably because it was being made by a spiteful, false pony.

"What, Watchful, do you care? Umbra's a no show who probably dumped the brat on us anyway. She's a slaver's spawn too, so she's probably just going to get some sort of nasty special talent. Besides, really," she paused, and for a few moments she looked like she felt pity, "It would be best for her to go when sleeping, while she's still innocent."

When I kicked Blueberry Cream in the jaw as hard as I could and watched as she hit the wall, the back of her head connecting with it first, I felt the strangest sort of catharsis, like a weight I had carried for years had finally lifted off my shoulders.

Without taking a moment to pause, I picked up her dropped gun and her slave collar, tossed the two objects off to the side of the room, and walked out to the hall to get the damned Amulet off her. Blueberry grunted slightly when I leaned a knee into her chest, but didn't seem to have the strength to do anything but kick her legs hopes of getting up.

While she didn't hold back on trying to pummel me, I had dealt with baby lambs that could kick harder than what she was accomplishing and didn't feel the need to budge. When I saw that she was trying to use her magic, I just flicked her horn, which made her wiggle and spout curses at me that I didn't really take the time to hear. She bore a torn lower lip and a bloody nose so poorly that even her red eyes weren't having the same effect on me as they normally did, and another punch to the forehead after an attempt to bite off one of my fingers off ended her attempts of resistance.

The Amulet came off with a few strained minutes of fighting with the small pony, and when I undid the clasp on the back of her neck and stood up, she laid there on the floor, unmoving, blue-eyed and looking dead to the world.

Then she she took a breath of air, struggling out a few gasps for it in between spitting out little flakes of blood. I felt a passing bit of worry over the state of her jaw.

"Fuck." she said raggedly after a few moments of consciousness, "I'm sorry."

I didn't feel the need to question her if she remembered what she just did after she said that, so as I stood there, I just shook my head. "Who's blood is that, Blueberry?"

"The dead ponies." she rasped out, pawing at her dirtied cloths as she did, "From the hallway. I helped moved them. Gaugh, did you have to flick my horn, too?"

I was an unsympathetic listener to her plight, but an understanding one. "I could have picked you up by your horn, probably."

That made her shudder slightly, and bunched up in her bloodstained robes that were a size too big for her it was almost hard to forget that she was ready to kill me a few minutes ago. "That's not fair. Goddesses, that's not fair."

"What made you put on the Amulet, Blueberry?" I asked.

"What is this, an interrogation? Why aren't you telling me what was that farce downstairs!" she quipped, sounding like she was trying to not cry.

"It was that or getting killed." I said, but it sounded like I was trying to reaffirm my own choices, and Blueberry looked at me with distaste before her eyes softened on the sight of the Amulet.

"Gabriel told me that you got us in a murder plot before he left." she said quite suddenly. "And I found an old case of memory orbs that belonged to me. I watched one to pass the time, and it wasn't..."

When she looked at me and turned away from me, I felt slightly worse than I did before.

"You...you know exactly what I am talking about." she muttered, giving me a scathing look when I didn't say anything.

"Yes." I replied, not leaving any doubt for her, "I know."

Since the day I found that collection, I wondered when I would have to talk about them with Blueberry. This wasn't how I was imagining it would be like, anyway.

"How is it that Candy Cane's asleep?" I said, suddenly realizing that the filly really should have been awake, from the coffee.

Blueberry let out a tense bit of laughter. "I got her to drink a sleeping potion; Gabriel gave me it before he left. She's going to be out for the rest of the day, probably."

I frowned slightly at Blueberry, who just seemed shameless about knocking out a little filly.

"Do you me to help to get up, Blueberry?"

"Yes." she replied quickly, so I took one of her forehooves and pulled her forward, letting go quickly when all four hooves touched the ground.

When she looked at me next, she was wincing. "I think I have a tooth loose." she said, before suddenly looking embarrassed.

Neither of us spoke for a few moments, and it was Blueberry who decided to keep talking.

"I'm going downstairs to get a healing potion and to see if I can't get my robe cleaned," she said after a while, "Hide my Amulet somewhere while I'm down."

"What are you going to say, Blueberry?" I asked, " 'The minotaur I was with kicked me in the face, but I was trying to kill a sleeping filly, so it's no big deal?' "

She shrugged. "I don't care. Where's that explosive collar? I found that up here, but it's worth a few caps. It'll pay for the potion."

I motioned over towards the room, and she entered it without speaking. When she came back into the hall, she looked slightly less unstable on her hooves, like she didn't just have the crap beaten out of her.

"I grabbed those food cards, too." she said, holding one of the pieces of plastic Temperance brought with him in the hotel room, "I'll see if they are still good. Are you hungry?"

"I am." I replied, suddenly realizing that I hadn't eaten that entire day.

"K'ay, I'll bring you up something. We can talk about how doomed we are over food."

Blueberry left for the stairwell only a few minutes later, leaving me alone with a thankfully sleeping Candy Cane as my only companion.

I looked down at the Amulet in my hands, wondering what I should do with it. It was a horrible, evil thing, but I couldn't help but think about what I do with it. Hiding it wouldn't really work in the long run to keep Blueberry away from it, but that was the real problem, because I didn't know what would happen if Blueberry lost it permanently.

And so, after a few moments of thought, I went back into the room and laid down on the floor, next to the edge of the room. After a few bored moments of complicating the cursed object of doom and evil, I put the Amulet under my back, which, at the very least, Blueberry would be unable to immediately grab from me.

And so, I waited for blissful sleep to overtake me, where I escape from the insanity around me and have a few hours of peace.

It took a few minutes, but I managed to doze off.

The breeze helped, anyway.

And Now, For Something Completely Different

"I-I'm so sorry!"

"You will be."

I wasn't a stranger to dangerous places; Goddesses knew that you couldn't cross the border down south before finding some abandoned Equestrian military complex filled with robots and monsters ready to blow bits off you and/or eat you, and some of the Stables could get weird.

I should know. Heck, me and my squad mates had raided not one, not two, but three Stables, and only one of them still had ponies in it, which still kinda sucked considering the hellhole that Stable was.

It was filled with a bunch of drug addicts and raiders and damn did they take their sweet time dying when they had more drugs than blood in their veins. One crazy mare tried to bite my neck open, but the good thing about wearing heavy-ass stripped down power armor all day is that it's really fucking useful when you can move around quickly when you are surrounded by crazy drugged up ponies who think they can open you up like a can of cram with their teeth. My guys spent three days clearing it out, and when we got out we got a commendation from the top guys and a pat on the back from the President herself, for all it mattered.

But I did all that for the NCR, and the NCR is in the middle of 'reconstructing' right now, so it pretty much means that it's as dead and defunct as anything else that doesn't have a functioning leadership, which is kinda sucky because I wanted to get payed for the last year and a half of doing shit for ponies who sat in their chairs and played war with eight foot tall brahman heads and tribals and Steel Rangers and all that jazz. I was seriously looking forward to getting a medal for taking a minotaur arrow in my lower left leg, but nooo, the Desert Rangers needed more money then the poor ol' boys on the front!

So, right now I'm sitting with three other of ponies and the boss in a cave in the middle of nowhere, and we have no clue what's going to happen to us, especially because we kinda-not-really-technically deserted the NCR a day and a half before everything started to collapse. So on the off chance that it did reform we would be on the hit list, because two members of the Heavy Infantry corps wearing very expensive equipment led under a rogue CO would be one of their biggest targets.

But that's a tangent, because the mad dog they are afraid of is really good at killing things, and I knew better to get in her way. And I ditched the armor back in Braymont, because it's was really fucking heavy anyway, and because the boss said so. I liked the boss though, from a certain point of view, and she made sense. I couldn't run in armor that heavy, and running's a pretty good thing to be able to do when you're deserting the military.

Besides, contrary to popular belief, Charnel is a pretty great gal to hang out with during wartime, because if you stayed behind her you could get a glimpse of her killing everything in front of her. Ponies, minotaurs, griffons, pegusi, monsters; she's killed them all, and her free time where she wasn't killing things was usually spent either talking about killing things or preparing to kill things. I mean, I was one of her bodyguards and all, but she's probably saved me and my partner's skin more than I have her.

Also, she has a pretty nice ass.

I mean, I'm not stupid enough to try anything, but as the great pre-war philosopher Savage Love once said, 'Crazy is fun, from a distance'.

Sure, she once tied up a Steel Ranger who tried to defect to the NCR and blasted him with a flamethrower while he was in his power armor after it got disabled from a shock grenade, and then cracked open his suit and fed his remains to some dogs, but that barely qualifies as a war crime anyway.

...

I mean, sure, she does have a alcohol problem, and a anger problem, and but in the old days if you were crazy and worth keeping alive you got called 'eccentric', so that's what everypony in the NCR's brass called her in when there was a chance that one of her ponies was listening. As it happens, I was and still am one of her ponies, so I'v probably heard that word more than most ponies should have to.

Those are, after all, stories, and I don't believe she, for instance, supposedly stuffed a tribal's foal in a pressure cooker, or that the rumor about Three Foot Dick having to change his name to Two Foot and Five Inch Dick after he tried to flirt with her while the two of them were drunk and she had a knife has any weight to it. I don't think the supposed time when she stuck a funnel in one mare's privates and poured liquid nitrogen down it happened either, because knowing Charnel, she probably would have let her choose a hole she wouldn't pour the stuff into. The version where the mare got swapped out for a minotaur female, though, I could believe that.

Again, Charnel's a fun gal to be around, from a distance.

If I ever need to stop myself from thinking about asking her out, I just have to think about the incident with whisky bottle and the hooker.

...

Regardless of the fact that Charnel's a great gal to be around, I couldn't say I liked her sense of direction.

When I asked to where we were going after she shot up the inspection team in Braymont and skipped town, Charnel only said 'North', which is possibly the most useless answer to anypony alive in Caledonia besides, quite possibly, 'South'. Of course, I didn't say anything, because Charnel doesn't take questions well and her team of four hoof-picked soldiers got reduced to three when Hayseed wanted to know what the hell was wrong with her and got roasted for it.

I lost track of where we were after we went underground in some bunker to the west of Braymont that Charnel knew about, and that bunker led to some crazy long tunnels that kept going on and on and on. Sometimes we went up, sometimes we went down, and while Charnel just kept saying we were heading to a safe place I wondered if we were going to exit out of a mountaintop or something, because after a week down underground I couldn't tell how high or low I was, and neither could anypony else.

Even Path Finder, the one guy in the whole of the NCR who's cutie mark was about finding directions had no clue where we were. Path Finder, the stallion whose job description was to figure out where he was, had no clue where he was, but I couldn't blame him for that. He ended up as the other casualty in the trip in the tunnels, due to Charnel apparently not liking how he kept talking about where she should be going.

Charnel had the three of us that were left walking for what felt like a month, but was probably closer to three days, and eventually we came out in the middle of some hills, like, literally in the middle of some hills. From there, we just followed Charnel some more until we came to this cave, a old crumbly thing that was hidden behind a pile of rocks..

Now, the outside of the cave looked pretty normal, but Charnel just told us to wait outside it as she went in it herself. She said there was something she needed to check on, and when Ivory questioned her she just narrowed her eyes and didn't say anything else when she walked into the darkness.

The hills were greyish, all rock and no grass, and as cold as it was I wished I brought some warmer clothing. Even in the mouth of the cave, the air was cold and harsh, and I had to try and pretend that I wasn't as cold as I was as I rubbed my hooves together.

We didn't bring much with us, on Charnel's orders. Ivory carried what was probably half the kitchens with her, and Path Finder and Grease each had a battle saddle armed with two shotguns and two jury-rigged flamethrowers respectively, which meant that I had a new battle saddle.

Ivory was a different sort of pony, though. First of all, she was the only other unicorn besides Charnel in our little squad of misfits. Secondly, she wasn't military.

Not that that really meant anything, with the NCR the clusterfuck that it is, but she knew absolutely nothing about shooting a gun and was only around in camp because she knew how to heal things. She was only there because Charnel let her live after Grease spotted her trailing behind us as we fled camp. She was a scavenger who lived in Braymont, she said, but with her clean hair and coat and just from the way she acted all prim and proper I wasn't so sure if I believed her. Charnel, though? She just shrugged her shoulders and told her that she could come with us if she could keep up.

She's a understanding gal, that Charnel.

Grease had the smart idea to start a fire near the mouth of the cave for warmth, and the four of us were gathered around it, waiting. It felt like Charnel had been down in the cave for a hour now, and I was tempted to try and head back through the tunnels.

"This is stupid." I mumbled, looking away from the fire and out into the bare rocky wilds outside the cave, trying to spot something interesting, for probably the twentieth time by then. "I didn't sign up for this."

"Buttermilk, be quiet." Grease mumbled back, huddled up in what looked like a jacket made out of stitched together kitchen rags, "If you keep whining I'll tell Charnel the reason I had to burn yah was because you started talking 'bout killing her."

Grease kept the big easy grin on his face before breaking out in a little easy laugh, one I couldn't help but share. He was a black coated stallion who had the hair and voice to live up to his name, all except the white stripe down the center of his otherwise mussy mane. Rumor had it that he had a zebra in his family, with how small his muzzle was and how his hair was colored, but I never asked about it, and I didn't especially care. He was actually the only guy I knew personally from camp; he was one of Charnel's favored guys, and we kinda had to become friends with the whole issue of turnover rate in Colonial Cook-Cook's service.

At least he was a fun guy.

"You know, Grease?" I said, low and slow-like, "I wouldn't be the one talking about-"

Somepony let out a snort, and it took me a few moments to figure out who.

"About what? Being stupid?" Grease growled, shaking his head at me like I was a foal.

"Stop fighting!" Ivory half-wheezed without raising her head off the ground, still tired from carrying her things and was content until this moment to just lay near the fire and pretend that she was asleep. "Seriously, stooooop it."

Ivory, apparently not caring a bit about her flawless white-gold hair, laid her head back down on the cavern floor and groaned like an impatient child. "I mean, all I have heard you guys do is argue about who has the bigger dick and tell horror stories about how many ghouls could've been down in that tunnel! Don't you have lives?"

Grease shrugged his chiseled shoulders, and gave the mare a unsympathetic look. "You got anything better to talk about?"

Ivory, in return, met his gaze with a similarly uncaring look and a roll of her big blue eyes. "Well, let's see... I don't really know either of you two, only that you work for the crazy pony who dragged us to this cave and you both worked for the NCR."

She prodded her head up on the ground with a hoof and kicked her legs in the air, an act more appropriate for a pony half her age. "Also, Charnel's some sort of crazy pony, he," she stopped talking, to point at me with a polished hoof, "has onion breath and has a stupid little scruffy beard, and you," she stopped again, to point at Grease with another, similarly pristine little hoof, "look and smell like you bath in cooking oil and are one of the foulest mouthed ponies I have ever met."

The mare crossed her front legs together so she could rest her head on them, as if raising either of them was some sort of terrible trial.

"I take offence to that." Grease spoke up, smiling at Ivory all friendly-like, "I bath in vegetable oil, thank you very much."

Ivory sniffed indignantly, and scooted over to the fire using only her front hooves, so she looked a bit like a worm with a nice ass.

"Buah, you guys are jerks." she mumbled.

I was bored, and slightly annoyed, and while the stark landscape around us was sort of pretty to an extent, we were still in the middle of fucking nowhere and not a single radio signal seemed to penetrate the great white-brown cliffs around us, so I decided to humor the pretty, petulant mare who I wasn't sure if I was attracted to or repulsed by.

"How about this," I decided to say, trying to sound as casual as possible, "We could play a game."

Grease looked up from the fire and blinked at me.

"Are you a fucking foal or something, Buttermilk?" he said bluntly, waving a hoof over the fire, "We don't have no cards, no cash-"

"Oh, I know a thing we could do!" Ivory spoke up, eyes glittering, "I ask one question, and you have to answer it! And then you get to ask me a question, and so on and on!"

Grease's smile grew thin. "How old are you?"

"Old enough to know what counts in this big ol' world of ours!" Ivory said chipperly, fluttering her big eyelashes for effect.

Closing my eyes and shaking my head, I was ready to say something along the lines of an insult when a sound came deep from within the cave. It was so twisted and loud and desperate I thought it was a animal cry at first, the cry of a wounded animal that knew it wouldn't live for more than a few more minutes. But then it kept getting louder and louder until finally dropping into silence, and no animal I knew could scream.

None of us made any sudden movements at the noise, but Grease looked plain spooked and Ivory was sitting very still and wide-eyed.

Me?

I was just happy I hadn't had anything to drink in a while.

"I think we should see what that was." Ivory suggested helpfully, sounding only a little frantic, "Because we are waiting for Charnel, so somepony might as well see if she's alive."

Grease shook his head. "I'd sooner head for the tunnels then go down in that cave. Charnel's crazier than a rat in a nuthouse."

The zony had a point, but as much as I didn't want to be around Charnel, we were alone and we were still in a pretty bad place. Better to have more allies then none at all, anyway.

"Well, yeah, but she's the closest thing to protection we have." I said, "And I think we should see what was up with that scream."

Grease frowned at my words, and pointed a hoof over to the darkness behind us. "Who knows! Who cares! All I need to know is that Charnel would kill me and probably do something horrible with my corpse if I go down there!"

"I think we need to see what's down there." Ivory added, which made me feel slightly better about even bringing up the topic of seeing what the crazy pony was doing in the cave, "I mean, if that scream was Charnel's, she would be dead and we should leave."

"Charnel isn't the sort of pony who dies in a cave." Grease replied, "It's probably some sort of monster or something."

The topic of monsters brought some strange images to mind. There was only so many things that could live in a cave. Bears, wolves, giant rats; the sorts of things that ponies really needed to stay away from. But nothing Charnel and her flamethrower couldn't deal with. The only monster down there was probably, well, Charnel.

"That's true, I guess." I said, putting on my most reasonable face, "But we don't know what's down there, even. Charnel could be dead right now."

"Charnel could be dead right now." Grease repeated in a high-pitched mocking tone, gesticulating wildly with his hooves, "Yeah, and I'm the prince of Prance! Buttermilk, don't be stupid. Charnel has a better chance of walking out of that cave with a fancy pair of wings then to be dead."

"Huh?" Ivory said intelligently.

"I mean, shit, do you remember Equimalt?" Grease continued, seemingly not caring that Ivory had spoken.

I winced. I did. There was a tribalistic raider army, sixty ponies strong, held up in a old airport in a town called Equimalt. The high command said that it was too risky to head in there to investigate the rumors that there was a few chariot-style aircraft inside it giving the high risk factor and the distance from supply lines. Charnel went out by herself, on her own free time and will, apparently killed almost every member of the tribe, and reported that there was a half-dozen Equestrian-styled sky wagons in it but nothing else of note.

She got a promotion from that, I think.

"Okay, fine. But still, I think we should see what's going on down there."

Grease rolled his eyes. "Come on, Buttermilk, you have to be smarter than that."

He had a point, but I was really bored and seeing what the crazy mare down in the cave was doing was a good idea at the time.

"I guess not, Grease." I said amicably, nodding my head, "I think it would be best to see what is going on down there, anyway."

At that, he rolled his eyes once again and started making his way outside the cave, looking dejected.

"Okay, I'll be waiting back over to the entrance."

Ivory spoke up before I did, looking slightly frantic. "Where are you going?"

"Well," he said, "If you don't come out of the cave in a hour, I'm heading back through the tunnel so I don't get killed by Charnel when she comes up after killing you all."

I really couldn't argue with that sort of logic, so I just shrugged and gave him a smart look.

As he left the cave, I felt a little bad about the whole thing, but I wasn't going to let one stallion's soured mood make me turn against a decision I had already made.

Ivory, after Grease was a decent distance from the cave mouth, turned towards me and shook her head.

"Was he your friend?" she asked, almost sounding innocent enough to make me believe that she wasn't a immature brat.

"He still is." I clarified, "And I guess you're coming with me in the cave?"

She shrugged, and her horn flickered on, a bright grey-white light coming off from it.

"I guess. I'm bored and stuff, and caves are fun even if we don't meet you're crazy boss." she said, like what she was saying was a perfectly normal thing to say, "And I think you might need some light, anyway."

I blinked when I realized that she might have just said the first intelligent thing I have heard out of her mouth since I had met her, and shrugged. "You're right."

She shrugged back at me. "I know."

We stared at one another, and as I went for my battle saddle she grabbed the little pistol she picked up her own little pistol, and soon enough we were heading into the darkness.

"Caves are stupid."

Ivory, I was figuring out, wasn't a smart pony.

The cave started out wide enough, but it quickly became clear at a certain point that we had to move single-file. Overall, it was pretty boring; the rocks were rocks and the floor was cold and hard, but otherwise nothing really popped out to me as being interesting. The odd, ghostly light of Ivory's horn did give the uneven cavern walls some definition, but otherwise there was nothing more for me to focus on than Ivory herself, who decided to walk ahead of me because 'ladies first'.

Not that I was complaining, of course.

"Hey, Ivory."

"Huwha?" the unicorn mare replied.

"Are you nervous?" I asked, hoping to get a conversation brewing.

"Nope."

"Ah." I said, feeling slightly stupid. "So, mind telling me where you're from?"

Ivory made a sudden right turn into what I thought was nothingness, and I walked a little faster so I could catch up behind her. The rock was a darker sort of brown there, and the floor was colder and harder than before. It felt like we were slowly, but surely, going deeper underground, and my only hope was that whatever made that noise wasn't pony-sized.

"Why should I?" Ivory quipped, surprising me slightly, "If you want to ask something like that, you gotta say something about yourself, silly."

I had never been called 'silly' since I was eight, probably, so my cheeks flushed slightly and it took me a few moments to come up with something worth saying.

"I grew up in a small town."

"Yeah, so has half the ponies in the country!" Ivory exclaimed cheerfully, pausing slightly as she moved down a steep incline that I slowly followed.

"Okay, fine. I grew up in Oak Creek." I relented, feeling a little annoyed at the mare. "It's a farming town."

Ivory was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again I was surprised that she sounded honestly interested. "That must have been nice, growing up around all that food."

I felt a tinge of anger at her reply, but I reminded myself that she didn't know what she was talking about.

"No, not really. It used to grow high grasses, but then some cattle ranchers from the south decided that they wanted the land for their brahman. Oak Creek was a small town and the ranchers fed the NCR, so the ponies there kinda had to give up their land."

"Oh, that sucks." Ivory said amicably, "So, did you get drafted into fighting for them or something?"

I felt a wave of anger at her, but I shook my head tried not to sound like I was upset. "No, I joined the military as soon as I could. My special talent is caring for brahman, so when I got the milk bottle on my ass I wasn't exactly everypony's favorite guy. The military doesn't care where you're from, so I joined when I could."

That shut Ivory up, and for what was probably a minute we just walked in silence. Even with her horn, the darkness around us was a presence of it's own, and the rock walls, although smoother then I expected, kept getting caught on my saddle.

When she spoke, it startled me, but what was truly surprising was how quiet she was.

"How did you meet Grease, then?"

I didn't expect that sort of question, so I took my time to consider it.

"We got paired up as a firing team on our first real battle together. We got stuck in a abandoned building for half a day because of rain, so we just sort of broke down and got to know each other."

"He seems like a funny pony." she replied.

"Yeah, he is. We kept getting paired up together, and eventually we just ended up being Charnel's bodyguards."

"What's her story?" Ivory asked quizzically, before ducking to walk under a hanging slagtight.

"She's a crazy bitch." I said without irony, "I'm surprised you really don't know her."

"I don't know much about the NCR." she admitted, "Only that the top general's name is Olive Leaf and the ambassador to Paradise is named Susanna."

That was an interesting thing to hear from the mare who I assumed had roughly as much sense as a bunch of rocks.

"You from Dise?" I asked, raising a eyebrow.

"Heh, you could say that." she mumbled under her breath, "You know, it's hard to keep a casino running right."

I stopped walking involuntarily. Son of a mule.

"You are here to kill Charnel." I said. It wasn't a question.

"Nope!" she said cheerfully, in a way that made me realize that it was almost certainly wasn't forced, "I'm not here to hurt her at all! All I'm saying is that The Moon doesn't take well to one of their own getting half their face ripped off by a pony and getting away with it."

I winced. The dancer some of the guy's hired for Charnel was a cute little thing, but when she leaned in to kiss Charnel, the mare bit off most of the flesh on the dancer's lower jaw and spat it out. And then she stuck the whisky bottle down her throat after she kicked the mare down to the floor, because she could. Most of the guy's there were spooked enough and got the message to not fuck with their CO.

Unfortunately, it also seemed to attract attention.

"Okay." I relented, "I won't stop you from killing her, but-"

"Oh, come on!" Ivory snapped at me, turning around so she could look me in the eye. Her horn's ghostly glow gave her face a oddly menacing look, even with her pretty face. "If I was going to kill her, I would've done it when I first saw her!"

I bit my lip. She was right; Charnel needed to sleep like every other pony in the world, which might be proof that even the Goddesses had mercy.

"Okay." I relented. "So let's say I believe you. Why shouldn't I kill you?"

Ivory's light suddenly flickered out. The only reason I knew she was still there was because I heard her breathing.

"I get it." I said after a few panicked seconds, "Farm colt moment there."

When her horn lit up again, Ivory was smiling, but it was a honest smile. "You sound adorable when you are scared, you know that Buttermilk?"

It took me a few moments to realize that she just called me by name for the first time, and I couldn't help but blush a little.

She patted me on the head like I was her quirky little brother, even though she was built like she was half my age, but when she turned around and started walking there was a swing in her step, and I knew she had to be doing it on purpose.

In my silly, confused mind, I began to be under the impression that I had a chance with the cute mare with a pair of crossed fangs for a cutie mark.

We walked in mostly silence for quite some time. The cave, we were quickly discovering, was long; for all I knew we were going to exit out of it in the middle of zebra-land and be greeted by Grease's second cousin twice removed.

The cave, we were discovering, wasn't entirely a cave; I first noticed the grooves on the sides of the wall and what looked like stone safety bars, of all things, while Ivory's horn-light revealed that the ceiling and floors were getting smoothed out as we continued.

The clincher, though, was when we came to a genuine room, shaped like a half-circle.

It had to have been sculpted by something, pony or not; there was even a old moldering mattress sitting off to the left side of it, one that was obviously from before the war if only because of all the debris around it. There was a small stack of books and a lantern off to the side of the bed as well, and the latter was burnt out and looked like it had a filmy coating on the outside. No signs of food or drink, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to eat anything that came from down here anyway.

But, most importantly and damning that this was some sort of manufactured area, there was a door set in the wall directly in front of us, made from some sort of black, dull material that was certainly not metal. Metal doesn't look like like that.

Ivory immediately went for the books, while I stared at the door. It didn't have a handle or door knob, but it was certainly a door. It had a frame of the same material it itself was made of, all twisty and strange to look at.

"Hey, Ivo-"

"This one book is neat." the mare half-shouted before I could finish, "The title is in some weird twisty language, but the word's are in equish."

She shoved a open book in front of me with her magic, and I glanced at a single passage. I didn't understand half of what I was reading. I wasn't sure if I could understand what I was reading, either.

'They flitter wickedly and swiftly in the cold places where the Prince has been and the Queen has blessed in her eternal hate and eternal despair. While the wind howls with Their voices, the frost cries out with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city with Their ice and snow, yet may not forest or city behold the hooves that brings their doom. The Kind King in his cold waste hath known and fought Them, but what mare can say to have seen The Kind King brought low, in his wisdom and might? The Qatgani of the fiery deserts of the East and the sunken isles of the Kin of Oceanus have been given gifts from The Kind King, but the Southern tyranny of She Of The Burning Sun and The Dark One remain indolent and insolent, refusing to bring the savage might of the Coward Tribes to face their true foes. In their unwillingness to assist Him in bringing Those who have brought ruin to ponies once, they will undoubtedly prove to do so again.'

I stared at the book and knocked it away from me, making Ivory groan.

"That's really fucking creepy." I said, giving her a unnerved look.

"I think you mean interesting!" Ivory said without missing a beat, putting the book back where it belonged. "I mean, sure, half of it's probably the rantings of a madmare, but still, it's pretty interesting. Maybe when we find out what made th-"

The sound of a piercing scream assaulted my ears for a few seconds, and it came from behind the door. It was a mare's scream, a sure cry for help. It was the scream of somepony who wanted to die.

"-e scream." Ivory finished after a few moments, eyes the size of dinnerplates.

"You know, if we head back up, we could get out of here and meet Grease." I half-rambled, already heading for the way out.

"Hey!" Ivory yelled at me, stomping a hoof to get my attention, "There's a mare in there that needs our help!"

In a fit of shame and rage at my cowardly first act, I trotted towards the smooth featureless door and tapped it lightly with a hoof. It felt like I was touching a solid chunk of the cave wall itself, so I turned to Ivory and shrugged.

"See, it won't budge, let's get out of here and-"

Ivory huffed and pushed me out of the way. "Hey, let me try!"

I relented and watched the unicorn try and open the door, which was clearly sealed shut.

I felt my mouth open when the door simply vanished when her hoof touched it.

"Ooh, a magic door!" Ivory squealed out, before rushing into the pitch darkness in front of her.

Stunned by her sudden action, I quickly followed her, and I was so focused in trying to keep up with her I almost didn't notice that she had stopped moving until I was right beside her.

She was looking down, and when I saw what she was looking at, I couldn't help but stare too.

The surface we were standing on was made of the same hard, dull black material as the door was, but the floor was covered in small grooves and markings, all interconnected. Spirals folded into squares and rectangles and lines cris-crossed with other thin, almost unnoticeable lines, making it all look like it was part of one big picture. Even with Ivory's light revealing a good three feet of ground under us, it didn't look like the markings were just around us. I couldn't help but think of that we were looking at what could be sort of like the world's biggest scrimshaw piece, a massive engraving on a hard surface.

"Whoa."

I had to agree. This place was giving me the creeps. "What do you think this place is, Ivory? You're the unicorn."

She turned to me, looking puzzled. "I think...I don't know. The scratches on the ground sort of look like what you can find in a robot, though."

I blinked. "What?"

"I mean, in the arcane ones. Magic runes and glyph-marks and stuff."

She prodded one patch on the ground that sort of looked like two lines twisting around each other. "This place could be just magical, like a really secret magic place..."

"Honey, the door to this place vanished when it touched you. If it's not magic, I don't know what else it could be."

Ivory huffed loudly and looked down once more to look at the markings. "This is probably like, a megaspell chamber or something."

I stared at her, feeling a sudden wave of nausea. "Don't say something like that."

She let out a tense giggle. "Why? I mean, it fits. It's a big empty place in the middle of some place in the middle of nowhere, and the crazy pony we are trying to find is around here trying to make it work."

The mentioning of Charnel made me remember the scream, so I just shook my head and sighed. "We need to either find a way out of here or find out where that scream is coming from."

"Okay, okay, fine." Ivory said, sounding only a little dejected, "I guess we coul...oh!"

Her sudden tremble in her voice terrified me to my core, and when I saw her face, a caricature of pain, I felt my heart speed up.

"Ivory, what's the matter!" I heard myself say, not really thinking about what I was doing as I rushed over to her, hooves feeling heavier than they ever have been.

She didn't answer me, but she didn't need to when I saw what was happening to her.

The light of her horn changed swiftly from a pale gossamer light to a strange, uneven unholy gold-green flecked with unnatural purple blisters that seemed to almost bubble up from her horn like blood from a wound, marrow from a cracked bone. The unnatural spire of magic grew larger and more exaggerated every second, and as I took a step back I could feel the air grow sicker and hotter, a cloying smell like a overripe fruit drafting down from above. Black lightning crackled around her horn like nothing I had ever seen before, like little ebony fingers clutching around her head, and even with her eyes closed and her mouth only making sounds like a whimpering foal I knew she was in complete and utter agony.

When she threw back her head and screamed, what happened next wasn't like any spell I had ever seen; it just looked like her throwing all her might and will into making a big tall blast of green-purple magic straight towards whatever ceiling this hellish place had, but whatever she did I felt it.

It isn't a easy thing to describe, because it wasn't physical, or the sort of electrical not-sensation when get when you touch magic. It felt like every single good quality I could imagine about what I was doing and who I was suddenly inverted, and all I could comprehend was how much of a horrid, stupid fool I was, the country boy who went down in the pitch-black hell cavern that was probably going to be my death.

I touched her magical aura for less than a few seconds, and I was starting to cry. Even when she finished casting her not-spell, Ivory's horn was still covered in the hideous purple pustules of magic.

Before I could say anything, like scream or yell or shake Ivory so she would get out of her trance, the room exploded in a burst of nightmare-colors.

Green and gold and purple flames flew up and danced around the rim of the cavern, which I suddenly realized was easily the size of a small town and taller than anything I could think of, besides, perhaps, a skyscraper. The markings under me and all around me started to glow a dark green-purple, constantly switching and churning like spots of oil in a stew pot, and while I didn't feel anything when I touched them Ivory started to whimper and scream with her eyes wide open, sounding like she was trying to say something when all she could get out was horrible not-noises, and when she fell on the ground she did it without even trying to keep herself on all fours, holding her front hooves on her head even as flashes of pitch darkness started to dance on her horn.

I tried to grab a hold on her to pick her up and get us out of here, away from this horrible place, but I was a stupid farm pony who couldn't get a hold on the thrashing mare who needed my help, and so after a few seconds I just

stopped

and looked up, because that's what my mamma used to say to do, before you try and pray to the Goddesses

but I didn't see nothing like the sky, where the Goddesses were supposed to be

those two mares I didn't really think were real

but I did see something looking down on me, framed with some flickering purple magic a color lighter than the shadows that framed the walls

set between outcrops of the jagged darkness around me, all sharp angles and twisting triangles that didn't look right

was something that was judging me

and I looked at it, that big unholy piercing red eye, until it vanished, closing upon itself like a real eye would

along with the flames on the wall, which sputtered out until purple embers and green sparks finally flickered and died

until the only thing lighting the room was the shimmering lights coming off from the ground.

After a few moments, stunned and hurt and upset and afraid, I looked down at the mare I wanted to keep alive, who I wanted to help, only to realize that she wasn't breathing.

I didn't say anything when I realized that, so I just looked up and turned around, hoping to see a exit or something, only to find that I was looking at the pony of death.

He was standing only a few feet away from me, clad in a black, ragged cloak that clung tight enough to his emaciated frame to where it almost resembled a hide. His face was a rotten mass of greenish, putrid flesh and oily black hair, and his maneless head was topped with a almost exaggerated pitch-black horn, sharper than any unicorn horn I could think of and framed with little motes of black light that wasn't unlike but different than the magic that tormented Ivory. His ears looked like they had long since rotted off, and his teeth, yellow-brown with visible roots, looked sharp and jagged, poking out from under his lips like little knives in grey hilts. He was a tad shorter than me and almost fleshless, and his shoulder blades, all yellow-white bone and greyish green meat, jutted from out of the rotten cloak and framed his head in a odd way.

The pony of death looked at me with two piss-yellow eyes like jelly in their sockets, eyes without warmth or kindness, eyes that glowed like a cats set in the dim light of the cavern.

When he spoke, it sounded like everything I would imagine the caretaker of Pony Hell would sound like. It was a voice that was ragged from rot and deep with disgust for the universe at large.

"Pathetic." so said the pony of death, pointing at me with a rotten hoof so decayed I could see the joint where it was attached to the foreleg.

"Oh sweet Celestia." I gasped, putting myself between the stallion and Ivory, which caused the pony of death to snort in disgust.

"The Princesses have no power here, worm." replied the pony of death, taking a step forward on it's rotten limbs, "They have never had power here and now they never shall."

"Oh Goddess." I said reflexively, thinking only of Luna. Luna Protects, after all.

The pony of death looked almost offended. "Nor does the result of Twilight Sparkle's final folly. I command you to step away from the mare."

I was afraid, scared, and wondering if I was going to die then, all because I was too foolish to not obey the command given to me by the living concept of death itself, or to ask it who the heck was this Sparkle pony.

"No." I said stupidly.

The pony of death stared at me, it's pestilent eyes widening ever so slightly. I saw the shadows on his horn gathering strength, and it soon resembled a great miniature maelstrom of darkness, dark and cold and strange.

I closed my eyes, and awaited death.

"Hey, dad, don't kill him. He's one of my guys."

When I opened my eyes, I saw that the pony of death had turned slightly to the right.

I had never seen Charnel with her hair down before, or without some object she could use to kill something with nearby, before that moment, so let me talk about what she looked like then.

She was an athletic sort of mare, coal-colored and muscled in a that faint way, and she really did have striking eyes, grey and bright. But with her maroon mane down, she looked less like the hardass I knew and more like, well, a young thirtysomething who looked like she wanted to go to sleep, or do other things ponies who weren't crazy sociopaths did in their free time. In the light of the cavern, her sharp smile looked more unnerving than usual, especially when I saw what looked like, impossibly, purple smoke framing her eyes like the most literal form of eyeshadow I could imagine. It waved around in the air in a solid mass, like it was a physical extension of her head.

"He's an incompetent one." said the pony of death, sounding almost sour about the whole thing. "I thought you did better than this."

Charnel rolled her eyes and beckoned me over towards her, which I did wordlessly, because I was confused and I didn't want to die.

"Eh, but he does do what he's told. Isn't that right, Buttermilk?"

She said that sweetly, sweeter then any words that come from the mouth of a shark-toothed crazy mare had any right to be, but I looked at Ivory.

The pony of death was focusing his magic's on her, little black motes solidifying into solid shapes and forms unlike any other magic I had ever seen before, and he held his long horn over Ivory's form without saying a word.

"Who...he's your dad?" I asked quietly, almost believing it myself, "The pony of death is your dad?"

Charnel gave me a dumbfounded look of confusion that was almost funny on her face, and when she broke into laughter I almost wanted to join in. Her laughter was a new thing for me to hear too; It almost wasn't as evil I would have thought it would sound like. Less of a cackle and more of a throaty chuckle.

"I am flattered." the pony who was apparently not the pony of death said tonelessly, continuing to hold his horn over Ivory. "But I must deny that I am a sort of psychopomp."

"Sort of the opposite of that, right dad?" Charnel drawled.

"Insolent child." muttered the pony who said that he wasn't a ps-something, right before his stark horn flickered in a burst of shadow-light, and Ivory took a breath.

I stared at the breathing form of the mare who I thought was dead, and I pointed a shaky hoof at the stallion before Charnel shook her head at me, frowning slightly.

"She's okay." Charnel said to me, "She's going to take a while to get up, though. Dying's rough."

Her words almost went past me, but when I comprehended them I let out a shuddering breath. "She died?"

"Yes. But she's alive right now." Charnel replied, as if that was supposed to make up for it. The look on her face told me enough; she was looking at me like I was asking about, like, how a air conditioner worked or something.

I was silent for some time, because I wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"What is this place? Why are you calling him your dad? Why are you're..." I paused, looking at her eyes "Why are your eyes doing that thing?"

Charnel shrugged, and her eyes continued to do the shadowy wavy thing, taunting me.

"This place... well, that needs some explanation, but think of it as a megaspell chamber before there were megaspell chambers."

"Oh." I said, feeling stupid, "That's sort of what Ivory said."

Charnel raised a beshadowed eyebrow, but I heard the stallion let out a rasping cough of a laugh.

"Then she shall be useful, then."

I wanted to question directly what he meant by that, but Charnel decided to continue talking.

"As for my eyes, " she said, before shaking her head and looking far more like she usually does, slightly smug and sure of herself, "It's because I've used powerful magic in the past. This is why my teeth are sharp, too. I can explain about it in more detail later, if you want, but it's sort of pointless. Unicorn stuff."

She made a little dismissive motion with her hoof and shook her head. I was still expecting to see a pair of wings, at this point.

"That sounds painful." I commented, "About your teeth."

She smiled and shrugged slightly, a very un-Charnel like action. "Not really." Her teeth were almost the same color as her eyes; five years of standing around and doing my best impression of a statue in heavy armor, and it took today for me to figure that out.

I stopped talking again, and considered asking about the screaming, but I decided to find out what was the name of the stallion that wasn't the pony of death.

"So, is he really your dad?" I asked.

"By adoption." Charnel said amicably, but gave me that 'are you kidding me?' look again. "I mean, do I look dead to you?"

"Ah." I said, noticing that the stallion who was dead and not the pony of death was now looking at me oddly. "Uh, sir, what's your name?"

The dead pony who wasn't the pony of death continued to look at me oddly. Ivory breathed gently a few feet away from him.

"My name is Silent Night." the dead pony rasped, after a while.

And Now Here's Something I Hope You'll Really Like

"This is Smarty Pants. She was mine when I was your age.

And now I want to give her to you! "

Miss Batsy has lived a really long time, so she has a bunch of stories. Sometimes she tells me them.

When I once asked her about where she came from, she laughed and said she came from a big cave deep underground, under all the buildings and roads and rocks that I knew about and far away from any city I had heard of before, and that it was sometimes dangerous and sometimes boring but usually not really different from other places she has taken me to. She said that it wasn't too different then a tunnel we once went through, but it was made of real rock and it went deeper and further underground than the tunnels.

She also said that they weren't all made by ponies but by other things, like ground-worms and dragons and bigger things that ponies normally didn't see, and when you got deeper in the lower tunnels and caves you might have a chance that you could see something that ponies weren't supposed to see. She told me that she lived really far away, where it never snowed and it's all hills and sand and rocks, but someday she might take me there, if I wanted too.

I would want to see those caves and tunnels, because they sound cool, but sometimes her stories scare me a little. She once told me that she only spent a few years in her home, but she didn't have a mom or a dad and she had to fend for herself, so ponies didn't like her much. She said that it was because ponies like her have a system where a filly is probably only to get what their parents have, so she had almost nothing because her parents went away into one of the deep caverns. She sometimes tried to go down there, but there were things that would eat ponies if they could down there, and sometimes other ponies like her who didn't like other ponies like her.

When I asked Miss Batsy what she thought happened to her parents, she shook her head and said she didn't know. She didn't frown or smile or anything, so I don't know if she was still sad about it or not. But I don't think she was, because her story finished with the Princess of The Moon returning and her going to the city called Canterlot to be a Royal Guard, and when she said that she smiled bigger than she normally did and looked at me like something good just happened.

She hasn't gotten to the rest of that story though, because sometimes she leaves for so long sometimes she doesn't remember where she left off, so I let her tell parts of the story she already told me so she doesn't feel too bad about it.

When I asked her where my momma went after she got hurt, she just smiled and told me that ponies all eventually end up in this big cave when they die, but it was big enough that it had it's own clouds and trees and light, where everything shined without a sun and everypony was happy, because no one could get hurt or get sick in that cave. She even said you could touch the stars if you wanted too, stars held up on the roof of the cave, coming out from the top like crystals.

I'm not sure if I would want to touch a star, though. Miss Batsy said that stars outside that cave, in the real world, are really far away from where we are, and I wouldn't want to touch one if I wasn't in that big cave. When I asked her why, she just smiled and sighed and patted my head and said that I would know when I'm older.

She usually doesn't say that, 'when I'm older', but when she does it makes me feel really upset. She said that when I tried reading a book I found on a high shelf about fish that was written by somepony who grew up in the place where Griffons came from, and it had pictures of how to remove all the bones from the fish so it's safe to eat. She didn't like the fact I was reading something like that, but I don't know why. It isn't like I hadn't ever seen a dead fish before. Or a dead pony.

Sometimes that got to me, too. She would act upset if I tried to poke one of her friends when she sometimes visited them. Usually she doesn't act like how mama acted, all serious and stuff, but sometimes she got really serious all-of-a-sudden, which scares me sometimes because I don't know when she might stop being happy. Usually it's when I say or do something she doesn't think I should be saying or doing, like poking one of her friends.

All her friends were dead ponies anyway; she was a dead pony too, but she said she was a different kind of dead pony then the other dead ponies. I thought she meant that like how she explained to me the differences between a earth pony and a unicorn was, but when I told her that she just laughed and laughed and told me that it was more of a difference between a earth pony and a donkey, which I still don't get, because donkey's aren't really like earth ponies at all.

Once, I found a big book about monsters, and I found something called a vampire. It was a pony that could grow bat wings and turn invisible and drink blood and do all sorts of neat things, and it sounded a lot like Miss Batsy, so I asked her about it. She just frowned at me and said that she would tell me when I was older.

I once asked one of her nicer dead friends, a big once-a-pony named Goreshod, who always wore heavy clothing with bits of metal in it and had a big hole where his nose should be, if Miss Batsy was a vampony. He just laughed and laughed, at that, like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, but Miss Batsy just shook her head at him and made him leave where we were staying. I didn't get why she did that, but she shook her head and told me to not say stuff like that ever again.

Miss Batsy told me a strange story once, when she had drank a little of that horrible beer stuff that comes in cans in sets of twelve that I'm not supposed to drink, after I asked her to tell me why the ponies outside of the place with the boats all look so busy when ponies who came from outside the town, and why I couldn't go there when everypony helped a few other ponies into a big wagon with big safety bars on the sides.

She said that there's a big city in the south, where it's all sand and dust and steel and rust, where a bunch of ponies try and make a place from more than a hundred years ago work by making other ponies try and fix the machines. She said that that cart was being pulled by the ponies who work for the ponies who would want that city to work, and that I was too little to be put in that wagon. I asked why the ponies wouldn't want to work for the ponies who pulled the cart, and she said that the ponies who worked for the ponies who pulled the cart get hurt if they don't work.

When I asked why the ponies wouldn't want to help make the place work, she got really quiet and flew off to a place where I couldn't reach her, like she only did when she was either really tired or really upset at me.

I don't know what made her leave.

I was thinking about stories before I drank the blue-colored potion Miss Blueberry gave me, which she said would make me feel better after my head started to hurt, but when I started to get tired she gave me the fuzzy robe she got from Miss Glory and let me go to sleep. It was easy, because it was nice outside and the missing wall in the room made it so that it wasn't too warm, so I layed down near one of the side-walls so if I rolled when I was asleep I wouldn't fall outside. I learned that from trying to sleep on shelving. Hard.

When I woke up, though, I figured that I must have been asleep for a long time, because it was really dark outside and both Miss Blueberry and Mr. Watchful were asleep. Miss Blueberry had brought in a mattress to sleep on, and looked kind of sad because her hair was almost everywhere except on the back of her head, so she kind of looked like she had a lumpy head that made her horn look really tiny. It just sort of stuck out of her hair, like it wasn't supposed to be there.

I almost didn't see Mr. Watchful at first, but I soon realized that the big shape in the middle of the room that kept breathing was him. I felt kind of sad for him too, because it was cold and he was sleeping on the floor, but he already had a big grey blanket covering half of him, so I just tried the throw the one blanket I did have over him. But, I wasn't tall enough to toss it over him, and for a few seconds I thought he was going to wake up because he had a blanket over his head, his horns making it look like he had a tent over his face, but after I waited a few moments he didn't do anything, which I was happy about.

But, because I was awake, I was bored and not ready to go asleep yet, so I found some of the clothes I got from Miss Glory, just the white furry hat with the tuft on top of it and the scarf, and walked outside the room, because I wanted to explore this place because it looked cool.

I had never been in a place so tall before, anyway. The docking place was the tallest place I had been in my life, and that was all empty and it was just usually me and Miss Batsy, but this place was filled with ponies, but also it wasn't all wet like the docking place, so there wasn't any chance that I could trip and break my neck, like one pony did after Miss Batsy pushed him down a set of stairs.

That was another reason, too, because apparently the ponies who lived here were nice, unlike the ponies who lived in Watershed. Sometimes ponies from Watershed came over to the docking bay sometimes, and Miss Batsy usually scared them away or killed them so they wouldn't see me. But this was a place where she said that was good, and even though it got attacked by a bunch of ponies, and one really nice pony got shot in front of me and I got bits of him in my face.

I liked him, that Temperance pony. I thought I was going to enjoy knowing him, like Miss Blueberry and Mr. Watchful, but then somepony killed him.

It took me a while to walk down the staircase when I found it, because it was dark and cold and I didn't want to trip and the stairs were made for bigger ponies anyway.

I remembered the way downstairs from earlier, but in the dark it was a little weird. I thought I was pretty good in moving in the dark, because Miss Batsy said I was good at it and she could see in the dark, so that's something. But, it was dark enough that I couldn't see anything a few feet away from me and sometimes I heard a weird noise that I wasn't sure where it came from or what it could have come from, but I didn't scream or yell or anything because I knew there wasn't anything here that could hurt me besides another pony, with a gun.

Miss Batsy didn't want me near guns, and I understood why. They were noisy and loud and they hurt ponies. Miss Blueberry had a weird gun that wasn't really a gun and Mr. Gabriel had a big gun, but Miss Blueberry was nice and Mr. Gabriel was nice too. Miss Batsy said that I would probably need to learn how to learn how to use a gun, but what I would really want is one of her hoof-claw-gauntlet thingies that made sparks when she wanted them too. She doesn't let me play with them, but she told me that she wouldn't let me play with a gun either. I wouldn't want to play with a gun, because guns kill ponies, like Temperance.

My legs were a little sore after walking down all the way to the first floor, so I sat down for a few moments so I didn't get too tired and would have to go back upstairs so I would rest. I could've stopped for a few moments one or two floors ago, where there was a few lightbulbs hanging on the ceiling, but I had heard ponies walking around in a few rooms and I didn't want to run into a pony I didn't want to see.

Also, the carpet on the first floor wasn't as dirty as the ones on the upper floors. That doesn't make sense to me, but I wasn't going to complain, because that wasn't a big deal.

With the scattered light bulbs set between the bundles of wire on the ceiling, I saw well enough that I wasn't afraid to walk at a normal pace. I did like here. It wasn't too hot or cold, and even the walls were sort of fuzzy, and the weird smells and mildew were all up where ponies didn't live. It was nice.

But I could also say that about Miss Glory's house, and Miss Glory had a funny mouth too, so maybe this place was just reminding me that there was a place a bit like this one but also had lots of food that wasn't from two hundred years ago.

Also, in Miss Glory's house, ponies didn't get shot or dismembered and left to die. I think.

The first floor, I first thought, was empty. Even with all the lights on and stuff, there wasn't any pony around, even at the desk where there was a pony before. It was all empty and really quiet, even though there was probably dozens of ponies here and a few had to not be upstairs. There were those ponies who attacked this place, and the ponies who were in the lobby before they attacked it.

All the glass from the smashed windows seemed to have been cleaned up, though, which was nice.

The lobby didn't even look like there was a big fight earlier, because there was just a few bullet holes in the walls and there wasn't any blood or stuff like that. It looked kinda nice, even, because there were a few soft lights scattered around the room that gave the whole place a shady look. It was a little cold, because the windows were gone and there wasn't any heating, but I always would want to be a little cold then a little hot, because you can't bundle up in clothing to keep away the heat.

I thought against going over to where the couches were, and I couldn't get past the gate near the desk that would let me go behind it, so I sat around the middle of the room for a few moments and wondered if I should just go back upstairs and pretend to be asleep until I really was asleep, like I normally did. But, I eventually just decided that I was already downstairs and there wasn't much to do there besides waiting for Mr. Watchful and Miss Blueberry to wake up.

I guess I could listen to one of those tapes Miss Glory gave me, but I didn't want to go through them too fast. I liked them a lot. The one I got to listen to was about something called a Celestia, who was apparently a pony that wasn't like other ponies. The tape said that she had lived for a very long time and had a wing and a horn, and was also a princess, but was also called a Alicorn. Which was kind of silly, because I had seen a chart in a book once that said that the horn a unicorn has is called a alicorn too.

But anyway, this Celestia pony ruled for a really long time, but after a while she decided to stop being the ruler after a while and let her sister try to do it. I guess the sister didn't do a really good job, because the tape said that ten years had passed since the zebra war started, and I knew that the war lasted twenty years from another book I had read. I guess the sister wasn't a really good ruler then, because ten years after her sister let her rule over everything the zebras launched their bombs and the ponies launched theirs.

Miss Batsy once told me that there was once two sisters, and they controlled the sun and moon, which were apparently two big balls in the sky that you used to be able to see a long time ago. One was named Celestia and the other was named Luna, and Miss Batsy said that she used to be one of the Luna pony's guards. My momma used to talk about them, but only when she was angry at another pony and usually said a few bad words along with their names.

I guess the story about the sisters was nice, anyway, but sometimes I didn't know when the real stories started and the fake ones did. It all sounded a little weird, honestly.

After a while of sitting around on the floor, I decided to go outside.

While the ponies in the hotel cleaned up really good inside it, they didn't do a good job outside it. The road was covered in glass and bullet casings and I think I stepped in something sticky and cold that I didn't want to think about too hard about. There was new marks on the road now that wasn't there when I was walking on it, and I could see the big boxy shape of the wagon thing that the ponies brought with them, which was so big I thought that there was a new building just sitting off to the side of the road that wasn't there before.

I decided to be a brave filly and climbed on top of the bigger piles of rubble, one of the one's that was already there when I was outside the hotel last time. It was a big pile on the far end of the street, framing one end of it so ponies couldn't go past it unless they went through the gap of the middle. I knew it had pieces of rusty metal in it from when I first saw it, so I took careful steps and made sure I was only climbing on big solid pieces of concrete, which wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be.

It took a minute or two, and my hooves hurt and I would need to wash a scratch I got on my right hoof really good, so it didn't get infected and need to get chopped off, but I managed to get on top of the rubble-wall. There wasn't much on the other side of the wall other then more rubble and more of the street.

But, I didn't climb on top of a really big wall made of rock and spiky bits to see what's on the other side.

I wanted a better look at the sky.

I always liked stars. Miss Batsy said that they all had names, and she could tell me all of them. Sometimes she did that when we were going places, to pass the time. Some of them had stories about them.

Miss Batsy once told me that some zebras thought the stars were evil. The zebras also helped blow up the world, so maybe they are just a little silly. Miss Batsy told me not to judge, though, because it's not good to judge things you don't know about. She also said that she grew up being told that the stars were little gems and that the world was all one big cavern anyway, and it wasn't like she believed that now, so she told me that even smart ponies can be ignorant about some things.

I really didn't care about the stories, though. I just liked them because they were pretty.

They were all glittery and some twinkled every so often, and they were all different sizes and some were a slightly different color than the rest. And they would always be like they are. Ponies couldn't blow up the stars, or zebras, or even dragons. The stars aren't like buildings, or books, or ponies. Some buildings I have seen in old photos had to have been pretty when ponies built them, but all the one's I'v seen are old and rusty. Books get all yellowed even if you keep really good care of them, and when you don't they can get wet and moldy. And ponies...

A lot of the posters and pictures I have seen usually had really happy ponies on them. Even the ones that were really old and crinkly had nice, happy ponies on them. Usually there was a family, with a mom and dad and two foals, and they weren't dirty or had cuts and bruises on them. I didn't think ponies looked like that anymore, before I met Miss Nightcore.

But the stars would always look pretty, anyway. I thought that was kind of nice, that even when I was grown and had my cutie mark, or when I was old and probably dead, the stars would always look the same.

That was a nice thing, I thought. Something that everypony could see and enjoy no matter who they were; the night sky. My momma said that, once.

I miss my momma a lot, but she once told me that when ponies die, they become stars. I don't think that's true, but I think I want it to be, so that I could pretend that she's watching me.

I'm not very good about pretending things, though.

Even if she can't see me, I don't have to pretend that the stars aren't pretty. You can't deny they don't exist.

Thats nice, I think. Stars are honest. They are just pretty lights in the night that twinkle and make the sky more than a big dark space. They don't have something else, because they are already good.

...

I miss my momma. I think, when Miss Batsy comes back, I'll call her Umbra from now on. My momma called me a strong filly, and she wanted me to do my best in the world.

I love Miss Batsy too, but I think, one day, when I'm all grown up, I'm going to have to kill her.

If Murky Met Her, He'd Probably Cry

"Remember that talk we had about humility?"

"I remember how boring it was."

When I woke up to the feeling of hooves prodding me in the head, I sighed and leaned forward, only to find that I had a blanket tangled up on my horns, obscuring my sight. Sighing, I carefully took the thin little cloth off my horns so it didn't tear, and only then did I look down at the little pony who was trying to get me up.

Which was hard, because all I saw around me was a pitch black wall of darkness, all around me. I wondered for a moment if I was just going crazy and now I was feeling things, but that thought was dismissed from my brain when Blueberry lit her horn up and gave the three-sided room some light.

She didn't look too good. She was breathing heavily and had a face that could have been a scowl, if she wasn't so tired. Before I could ask what was the matter with her, she told me.

"Watchful, Candy Cane's gone."

I breathed, and hoped that this had nothing to do with the Amulet, which, I could only pray, was still hidden in the hole in the drywall I had found in a out-of-the-way room on the fourth floor.

As I began to stand up, Blueberry made her way towards the door, throwing the room into a faint blue light. Indeed, Candy Cane was missing, and nothing else was. While it did seem bad for her to be missing at this hour, I considered what was in front of me and tried to calm the frantic blue unicorn who was waiting impatiently at the door.

"Blueberry, is all of her clothing there?"

She shook her head, frowning. "No. Her hat is missing."

I sighed. "The little white one with the little tuft on top of it?"

"Does she have any other hats that I don't know about?" she snapped.

I rubbed my temples, trying to understand why I could wake up to such a headache.

"Blueberry, if she was kidnapped, I don't think she would get the chance to grab something warm. If she was taken and whoever wanted to take her wanted to keep her warm, then all of her things would be gone, right? She's probably exploring this place. She's probably used to wandering by herself."

She took that in well enough, but when she began to shake her head, I realized that this was going to be a long night.

"It doesn't matter, Watchful. This place isn't safe. Candy Cane could be left by herself because Umbra was a pre-war bat pony ghoul who's from a extinct elite military order who moves stupidly fast and has lightning claw gauntlets and can see in the dark. And right now, Umbra isn't here to protect her, and this is a building filled with ponies that we don't know and have more reasons to kill us then help us."

I had to admit, her logic was sound.

"Have you checked this floor, then?" I decided to ask, feeling slightly more worried about the filly than before. Although I trusted her, to an extent, because I knew she had to have spent extended times alone while Umbra was away, Candy Cane was still a tiny pony that was barely two feet tall, and she could probably lose a fight with a determined rad-rabbit.

Blueberry let out a little huff, but it didn't sound like she was angry, just slightly disappointed. "Of course I did, Watchful. She's not up here."

I clenched at my temples again, but before I could get into a properly sullen mood, something spoke.

"The filly is safe."

The voice sounded like it was coming from down the hall. It was clear, feminine voice, but not one I had heard before. Blueberry turned away from me and over towards the door, clearly startled, while I just hoped that whoever was speaking wasn't about to say anything along the lines of 'For now'.

"Who's there?" I decided to ask, as Blueberry didn't seem to want to talk and the muffled sounds of hoofsteps was only growing stronger.

The mare who came into sight near the door was one I recognized, to my surprise and unease. While she wasn't wearing the odd jump-suit she had earlier nor the strange bulky powered hoof-weapons, she was wearing a set of what looked like rubber boots and still had that odd look on her face; she simply didn't look like she had ever laughed in her life. It wasn't that she didn't look like she had ever smiled so much as her facial muscles simply couldn't contort into anything that was like a smile.

Otherwise, though, I was slightly pleased that wasn't wearing anything that could hide a weapon, but I kept that to myself.

"My name is Charger." the mare said, looking down slightly at Blueberry, before looking back up, as if looking straight forward into empty space was the best social solution to talking to two differently-sized people at the same time. Her eyes were just a shade darker than Blueberry's magic, which gave them a odd glowy effect in the half-light that I did not find remotely comforting.

Blueberry didn't take a step back away from the mare, but just trotted in place for a few moments, as if doing so was going to solidify her position in the room. Pony body language was really weird.

"Mine's Blueberry Cream." she said, trying to sound friendly. I didn't know if she had spotted Charger alongside Charity or was simply unnerved by how she acted, but it was clear that she wasn't comfortable with the yellow mare's presence.

Charger shrugged, seemingly in dismissal. "I know your names. I also know that the filly is safe."

Blueberry looked her over once, starting from her rubber boots and up to her burnt orange hair, and eventually her slightly frightened expression turned into a light scowl.

"Why are you dressed like that?" she asked, sounding suspicious.

The yellow mare's face was expressionless, and she talked the same way. "I helped pick up the glass and debris after the attack. These boots are helpful in not getting cut by shards of glass and getting an infection and dying."

I almost thought I heard a bit of snark in the mare's voice, but I must have been imagining things, because Blueberry didn't seem to see it.

"Where's Candy Cane now?" she asked; well, demanded really.

"The filly..." the mare paused, seemingly taking her time to think, "is in a safe part of the building. One of the guards found her sleeping outside, on top of one of the exterior walls. It is cold enough to snow, so naturally she was brought inside immediately."

Her words both relieved and concerned me. It would seem that Candy Cane and I would need to talk.

Blueberry, on the other hand, seemed to be relieved at Charger's words, and nodded at her gratefully.

"Thank you." she said, trying not to sound as tired as she was.

"For what?" Charger replied, not in the sarcastic way some ask the question but in as a actual statement, "I had nothing to do with getting the filly inside."

Blueberry didn't respond to that, which was enough for me to tell that she didn't have anything she could possibly say to the odd mare, so I decided to speak up once more.

"I'll go down so you can get some rest, Blueberry."

She turned around and gave me a look that was somewhere between anger and surprise, but after a few moments she closed her eyes and shook her head, a smile forming as she did.

"Thanks, Watchful. You better be back with Candy Cane with you when I wake up."

I forced a smile. "I will."

She gave me a tired, lazy grin, and went over to where her makeshift bed was. I think I actually saw her fall asleep, because after a few moments after shoving her face into the pillow her horn flickered out and she stopped moving.

It was dark for only a few moments, though, because Charger turned on a flashlight soon enough and motioned for me to follow her. I wasn't sure where she was hiding it before, or how she was holding it with her tail, but I wasn't about to question weird pony things, even now.

While the hallways were still dark, they were not as oppressive as they could have been. Charger seemed content not to talk to much, and I didn't expect more from her. This was all quite awkward, really, and she seemed to be a quiet sort of pony.

"I have a question for you, minotaur."

Charger's voice was low enough that I almost missed it, and on the fourth floor of the hotel and after ten minutes of walking silently, I stopped and decided to humor the mare.

"What is it?" I replied, hoping that I didn't sound as tired as I felt.

"What is your exact relationship with Blueberry Cream?"

I looked down at the yellow pony, who, while not walking anymore, was still facing forward, as if turning around wasn't worth it. I think I was getting too used to ponies wanting to know about me.

"We are friends, I guess." I said, trying to make myself sound like I was absolutely sure about what I was saying, "I mean, we've only met recently. But this city is new for the both of us, and better the devil you know, right?"

"Ah." she said, before shaking her head lightly. "My apologies."

I had a feeling with where this was going, but I didn't like it.

"Why?"

"The room you were sent to wait in was bugged." she said plainly, "The Alicorn insinuated that the filly's parents worked for Red Eye, and the Goddess of Maripony is not known to be taken aback by harmless fillies. Gabriel the Griffon, a day before you even arrived, also told of how Blueberry Cream was apparently a former Steel Ranger of the Manehatten Congregate, and while Charity herself only knows of this from another hidden recorder it is evidence enough."

She paused, to gauge my reaction. "You were also involved in some manner with the death of Cheesecake Crumbles, who was often believed to be the best fighter the Purebred had. Under this thinking, it's not to much of a stretch to assume that you might have ties to the local slavers, if you are not actual emissaries from Red Eye himself."

I was slightly stunned. It sort of made sense, but I felt a bit lightheaded at the concept that a guy I barely know had suspicions that I was some sort of horrible person.

"I have never associated with slavers." I said, hoping that the mare would not take offense, "Blueberry would probably be horrified to be mistaken for being one of Red Eye's workers, and Candy Cane does not know what the significance of what her mother did. The Alicorn was as hostile to me as it was to Gabriel, but I..."

I had to pause, because I couldn't come up with a lie on the spot that could possibly cover everything that was wrong with the picture of the evil pony princess monster not acting like a evil pony princess monster because of a almost perfectly normal filly.

"I have no idea why the Alicorn likes Candy Cane so much." I eventually said, not knowing what else what I could say.

"I see." Charger replied in a way that told that she probably didn't, "I was told by Charity I was to explain to you about how the sabotage of Boffenspark's wedding was to occur, and your role in it. However, Charity is a fool to believe that I am in any sort of debt to her."

"I understand." I didn't, really, but it sounded like a good to say.

Charger seemed to know that I didn't mean what I said, though, and continued to speak in a slightly disapproving tone that made me feel like our heights were reversed, and she was the one looming over me.

"This town is a good place in the wasteland. It has been attacked by raiders several times in the past, but there are several capable fighters here, of which I will include myself, and with the others who have taken residence here this town has always prevailed. Charity, after this wedding, intends on selling half the population to slavers and allow drug manufacturers and slavers can sell their wares on the floors that are currently abandoned. She has no intent to attempt to control Sunnyside."

"She said that she doesn't like slavers." I said, feeling like I had utterly no idea what was going on.

Charger's look turned hard. "Charity is, besides being a fool, a liar. Rollcall is now one of the ponies scheduled to be killed during the wedding, as it is, along with most of his ponies. As things are going, Charity is assuming that you and Blueberry are agents of Red Eye, and she wishes to look impressive to you, regardless if you actually are. If she is mistaken, she is also under the belief that you would have no moral issues in working for her, as she adamant in assuming that you are at least someway connected to Fillydelphia."

Charger was looking at me intently, seemingly watching for any sort of tells on my face that would prove Charity's suspicions.

Eventually, though, she closed her eyes, and when she opened them their was a faint look of satisfaction on her face.

"We must speak about this later, in the morning. But if it is true, and you told the truth to Charity, than I believe you find this situation as abhorrent at I myself do."

I think I waited too long to reply to her, because her satisfied look faded from her face after a few moments of waiting.

"Of course I do!" I blurted out, "I didn't ask to be a part of some sort of murder plot!"

Charger shrugged lightly. "Most do not. However, Temperance is now dead, and this town is in need of leadership. If Boffenspark lives and this plot is foiled, the Purebred will not will not survive as a unified force, and that would be a good thing. This town was originally not owned by the Purebred, and it can survive without their influence. I will see to it."

I raised a eyebrow, wondering what she meant by that. "Do you want to be in charge?"

Charger shook her head immediately after I finished speaking. "No, but this is not the place to speak about this. There are others with similar obligations as yours and mine where the filly is."

She then turned around, as if she wasn't planning on turning back towards me until we reached wherever it was we were going, and I decided to follow her.

I mean, it wasn't like I was going to try and fumble my way back upstairs, in the dark.

The place we were going, apparently, was some sort of break room, but I only knew this because I recognized the signs.

The trappings were different, but the rest was all the same, mostly. The carpet here was thick and soft, possibly from a lack of traffic even after two hundred years, and the walls were not of the same green felt as the walls upstairs were, and were simply drywall and yellowed wallpaper.

A dozen guns, large and small sat in a large case off to the side of the room, next looked like two score boxes of bullets stacked upon one another, and next to this collection of arms was a small bench with large gun, in pieces. There was a large table in the center of the room, one flanked by two sturdy chairs laying against the wall on one side and a large couch on the other. Next to the couch was a small open cooler, which held what looked like half the city's supply of soda crammed into it's small frame.

There were also two ponies in the room, and I only knew one of them.

Candy Cane was asleep, wrapped up in a big bundle of blankets on one of the couches and in front of at a big bowl of some sort of red thick soup that was halfway gone now, still hot enough that steam was coming off it, and she didn't look a single bit sorry. She was content in smiling like she was completely innocent of sneaking off in the middle of the night and getting ponies I didn't personally know involved in things they shouldn't.

But, then again, there were two little ponies in the room.

Seated on the couch opposite of her was a single pony wearing a dull purple robe, fringed around the edges with black silk. She was a pony mare, but, most importantly, her appearance was purely, utterly unnatural. If the creator of ponykind was a artist, and every pony was a living, breathing work of art, this mare was a piece of line art that never got finished. Her blemish-free coat and short, bowl-cut mane was pure white, not really the color white but more of the absence of any color at all, like fresh snow. Her ears were prominent on her head, reminding me of a cat's for whatever reason, and they had fuzzy tips on them. That was odd, but it wasn't anything that was worth noting compared to the rest of her.

Finally, her eyes were the only splash of color on her entire face, giving them a striking appearance. Pony eyes were big and expressive, and without any extra color framing them it made them look even moreso. Unfortunatly, this mare's eyes were colored red, no exactly the color of blood but a dark wine color that was close enough to it to be a bit more than unsettling.

The tiny little smile she had wasn't helping, either.

Albinism is a rare thing, that I knew, but I had seen it once before, on a baby goat that was born when I was younger. The goats themselves put it down because they said it was a cursed thing that would only bring death. I couldn't help but wonder if the same was true with ponies, looking at her.

When I turned to look at Charger, wanting to see her reaction, she was already on her way back down the hallway, heading for some place I probably didn't know about and probably never will.

Somehow, I figured that I probably did not want to follow her.

"Hello." said the albino mare in the robe, who actually had a perfectly normal high-pitched pony voice, "Please, sit."

I decided to go over to the couch where Candy Cane was sitting, which wasn't a issue because it was a large one and Candy Cane was all but knocked out cold.

"Hello." I belatedly answered when I finally got comfortable. "Are you a friend of Charger?"

It was the best question I could think of that wasn't immediately demanding and didn't relate to her appearance. Forgive me if other's would have said something more relevant in the position I was in.

"No." the mare said, sounding rather agreeable regardless. "Does Charger strike you as the sort of pony who makes friends?"

That was a very good question, but it didn't seem like the mare wanted me to answer it.

"She isn't, but it's no fault of hers. She is a very serious pony, in truth." she continued, sounding like she was trying to be as delicate about talking about someone who wasn't in the room as possible, "She is the sort to make allies."

I wanted her to say something else, so she would elaborate, but it seemed like she wanted for me to reply to what she has said.

"Are you an ally of hers, then?"

She shook her head, and gave me a little half-smile. "No. However, we have goals and similar wishes for what is to happen within the Purebred in the immediate future, and we both have the power to do what we wish, so, functionally? Yes, we are allies, even if we do not collaborate."

The mare said that with a grin, but a small one. It was a grin that I had only seen on ponies like Charity; it was a grin made to hide as much about one's feelings as much as possible.

"You are not a member of the Purebred?" I asked, wondering where she was going with this. "Did you not bring in Candy Cane?"

She blinked. "No. That was the donkey's doing. She found the poor little filly and brought her inside, made her a bowl of beet soup and lent her a blanket."

I wished I knew where Karen was, because I was quite certain I needed to thank her.

"But as for being a member of the Purebred, no. I am not actually supposed to be here, to be honest."

"Why are you here, then?" I asked, trying not to sound startled by her words.

The mare sighed lightly. "I was alerted of a unfortunate incident that happened here today. This place was attacked, and you saved it, yes?"

For a brief moment, I wanted to say no, but the mare had a intent look to her that made me wonder what she would do if I lied.

"I did."

"Ah." she replied, before continuing, "Thank you."

I didn't expect to be thanked for what I had done, mostly because all the people I knew seemed to think that I did the wrong thing in not letting Rollcall's ponies blow up everything.

"I appreciate it." I croaked out.

"No, the pleasure's all mine."

She paused, and looked at the Candy Cane, who was sleeping noiselessly.

"I suppose you have no idea who I am, do you?" she asked, a tinge of humor in her voice. "Good. That means that I have done my job well."

I blinked, because I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Who are you, then?"

The mare smiled without showing her teeth, like she had done every other time. But this time, it seemed like it was a honest smile. Something in her eyes told me that she found this all terribly amusing, and she wasn't about to tell me why.

"My name is Shade, and I am the high priestess of the Scions of Nightmare Moon."

If The Pace Of This Story Keeps Going Like This, This Night Really Will Last Forever

" I understand what you're going through, young filly. I too had a sister who often shone brighter than I. I once struggled with this, and in that way I understand your pain."

"As such, I will help you destroy her once and for all."

Sitting across from the leader of a group I knew absolutely nothing concrete about was a surprisingly refreshing experience. The only times I had heard these Scion's mentioned was because they had some sort of orphanage, which sounded nice as anything. Perhaps I was getting too used to talking to middle-people who each had radically different thoughts on how the vaguely defined factions of Tauronto worked, because the idea of actually getting some straight answers made me feel warm inside.

"That's nice to know." I replied, "Would you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Shade shrugged lightly. For all her friendliness, she didn't seem too intent on explaining what that really meant.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. I have a few questions for you too." she replied.

I didn't like being called a 'sweetheart' by someone I didn't really know; actually, I couldn't think of a situation where I could be called a sweetheart without it being sarcastic. But Shade didn't sound like she was mocking me. so perhaps that is how she really talked.

"Well, who is this Nightmare Moon pony?"

Shade blinked. Her mouth hung open for a few moments, before she closed it and gave me a slightly startled smile.

"Now, that's a question." she said lightly, in the same tone I think was most often used by people who just saw something horribly traumatising and were still trying to deny it's existence, "But first, to understand what Nightmare Moon, one must know who Celestia and Luna were. Do you know those names?"

"Those are the pony princesses, right? The one who controlled the sun stepped down and let six normal ponies rule instead, and then a few years later they ended up launching bombs at the zebras?"

I thought my answer was crude, but Shade accepted it without much comment.

"Celesta controlled the sun, yes. Her sister, Luna, controlled the moon. However, Celestia was the older sister, and Luna grew jealous of the love ponies showed her, as ponies fell asleep during the night and woke to live their lives in the day."

She quite suddenly looked sad, and shook her head a few times, like she was disapproving of something she couldn't fix. "Luna, though some mechanism, transformed into the entity known as Nightmare Moon, and was exiled to the moon for a thousand years by her sister when she threatened to cast the world into eternal night. When Nightmare Moon returned, it took the power of the Elements of Harmony to remove the taint of it from Luna, who was then welcomed back in Equestrian society."

Shade, after she finished speaking, frowned lightly. "Of course, about twenty five years later, Luna's archaic mentality and off-hooved approach to ruling ended up being one of the major causes of the necromantic apocalypse. Both of the eternal princesses of ponykind died at roughly the same time, without any successors to which could claim true authority."

I found myself more interested in that last sentance then I had been since she had started talking. My general knowledge of how pony princesses was slim, and a lot of what I was taught about them was how one gave up their power and tried to let six perfectly normal ponies rule, which didn't end well, obviously.

"You don't sound as if you like them, then." I remarked, leaning in slightly.

Shade raised a almost unnoticeable eyebrow. "They were ponies who had the ability to rule almost uncontested. Celestia grew soft of heart because she could not handle the war, while Luna was paranoid and, quite frankly, rightly so. The ministries created wonders, yes, but the ministries also created monstrosities and committed crimes that, if done two decades before, would have caused the perpetrators to be exiled, if not simply stricken from the records for having even existed. They were two ponies with almost unlimited power, and one chose to throw that away and the other secluded herself while six ponies who had never lead a committee in their lives took the reins on controlling the brightest nation in the world. And the world burned for it."

The mare reminded me of the Elder, just from how she talked. I was beginning to find that I could like this priestess, despite her appearance.

"I have heard some ponies talk about how they 'ascended'. Could you explain that?"

Shade chuckled a mean little chuckle.

"Nope. They died. Probably screaming, too, along with Shining Armor and Rarity and all the rest who were up there. The Pink Cloud is nasty stuff."

The said that with a little snideness and a mean little smirk, but she shook her head after saying that and when she spoke again, she sounded normal once more. I wonder what could make her sound so dismissive to a bunch of two hundred year old ponies that she couldn't even have known.

"To be fair, it's a perfectly fine belief for those ponies who believe it to have. Celestia ruled most of ponykind for a thousand years, and her sister's legend is a part of that. Of course, she was active among ponies long before she became the legitimate ruler of the three pony tribes. Given that most ponies in the wasteland are descended from ponies who fled into the Stables before the war, the belief that Celestia is active in some form even despite evidence to the contrary isn't too far fetched. Notice that, however, most ponies could only vaguely describe what the two celestial sisters do in their current state. There are a few isolated groups that have organized worship of the two of them, and even of the Ministry Mares, but they come and go like the wind. They often miss the point of such worship as well."

I understood where she was getting at, really. I also wondered what she meant by that last bit, but I didn't say that, directly anyway.

"Would you be interested in explaining what reasons you worship Nightmare Moon?" I asked politely.

Shade smiled at that, and moved back into the couch she sat in, wiggling about to make herself comfortable. "Well, first things first; Nightmare Moon is simply a symbol. There is as much evidence that it was a force separate from Luna's own psyche as Luna and her sister does for surviving the war. If there was ever a entity known as Nightmare Moon that survived the war in any state, I have yet to hear about it."

"So, you are the high priest of a cult who does not believe in the goddess you worship." I replied, somewhat reluctantly, believing that I had missed something in that explanation.

The albino mare studied me for a moment, and seemed to focus on my horns for a few moments, but for whatever reason I had no idea.

"Minotaurs traditionally revere Discord, correct?"

Her question caught me off guard, understandably.

"Yes." I replied, but before I could continue about the reason, she stated it for me.

"Because he created you all, along with most other creatures, including chimeras, griffons, and others. He also created the three kinds of ponies from a single stock, because no other kind of creature has as much variety as they do. Am I getting this right?"

She didn't sound too overbearing about it, but she smiled lightly when she saw that I couldn't deny anything she said.

"Ah, good. I try and keep informed about these sorts of things, you understand." she continued, "It makes my job easier, to understand what other species believed or did believe. Ponies never had much use for making up gods when two among them moved cosmic bodies, you understand."

While she did pause, and I did consider mentioning that other Draconequui existed and I knew this for a very certain fact, I wasn't sure if I wanted too. So, I just motioned for her to continue on with her explanation.

Shade shrugged her shoulders, not looking very surprised that I didn't wish to talk about it.

"Consider the symbolism of the sun and the moon. The sun can be considered a negative entity in most respects; it dries the harvest, it burns the skin, and one cannot bear looking at it directly before one goes blind. It's heat stifles all under it, and it is associated in some places with slavery, as most labor must occur during the day. The sun is most present today in the lifeless deserts in the far south, near zebra lands, where bones lay across the sands and nothing of worth exists. It cracks the skin and splits the earth."

She paused her speech only to cough into one of the sleeves on her robe.

"Now, Nightmare Moon, in this case, embodies the comforting aspects of the moon; besides the absence of all the pains that the sun itself brings, it also brings," she paused, and smiled a tight-lipped little smile, "comforting shade."

I couldn't help but groan. The priestess looked pleased at my reaction.

"In essence, it is better to live in the soothing dark than the burning sun. Most ponies are content to live in the ashen wastes, and even those that often claim to prefer the darkness tend to have the mentality of those who live in the sun. All emotions and callus disrespect for their other ponies, all wanting something that they can't have. Those who choose to see the folly in that self centered behavior, of course, can join the huddled masses and help each other survive."

I was starting to lose where she was talking about, and by the way she was starting to talk I couldn't help but think that she was mentally preparing for another night of whatever the heck the high priestess of the Nightmare Moon cult that didn't believe in Nightmare Moon did, which, in fact, was a perfectly good question in itself.

"Can you tell me more about the Scions?" I asked, right after she paused to breathe.

"Oh, of course." Shade said, sounding slightly surprised. "What's your biggest concern?"

"Do the ponies you control believe in Nightmare Moon?"

Shade didn't smile at that. The sides of her mouth curled upwards and she wasn't frowning, but she didn't even bother with the pretense that she was pretending to smile.

"Do you believe in Discord?" the mare asked, high pitched little pony voice sounding surprisingly spiteful.

She had a point. It wasn't a matter of if Discord existed if their was a point in honoring him at all, if he was dead or incapacitated.

"I do. But I don't believe that I'll be meeting him any time soon."

She nodded, and the nastiness that she held in her voice was gone. "But, there are some minotaurs who do, because they find that his existence would make them feel better."

I had to give her credit; she knew what she was talking about. At it's basics, randomness was the domain of the Draconequui. If a minotaur wanted to take things by chance, he or she could, but it just wasn't practical in a place like the commune. I knew only a few minotaurs who would even invoke Discord on a regular basis.

"That is true. Is it the same for the Scions?"

"It is, mostly. The entire purpose of the Scions, you must understand, is to help others." she said, sounding cheerful, "The majority of those who find themselves taking up the robes of the Scions do not come well of mind or body. I'v gotten drug addicts, prostitutes, slaves, cripples, all wanting a better chance in life. But along with them, there are others who are simply not cut out for life in the wastes, the sorts that should have been born before the war, where they can thrive. Gentle souls who deserve to live, but would get torn apart in the savagery of the world if they are not protected."

She sounded fierce, but in a proud sort of way, as she talked.

"So, that's what the Scions of Nightmare Moon do, in essence. Some might truly believe that there is a place after death in the domain of the Queen of Night, but most come to me or my subordinates seeking a better life, a life without the strife of the world that ponies left for their descendants. They get a room to themselves, good food and clean water, and they may either help others learn of what the Scions offer or help assist in keeping the quality of what we offer consistent. They may help tend to the sick or simply wander the world and spread the word of what we do."

She stopped to tug on her robe. "Also, we make these. One hundred percent cotton, made from recycled clothing. A pegasus who used to live in the Enclave base near the Hoof once told me a few years ago that the only thing softer than one of our robes was the clouds she grew up on."

Shade continued to sound proud, but as she said that her voice had a tinge of humor I couldn't help but like.

"I think I will remember that."

The strange mare nodded once and let out a terse giggle. "But, do you want to know what the greatest achievement the Scions have brought to this wasted land?"

She didn't wait for me to answer.

"They brought an infallible leader into the wasteland. Nightmare Moon is an idea, and what has never lived cannot die. The ponies who rule in her name," she paused, winking at me, "know what they are doing. But even if they are killed, there will be devoted followers to take their place. Most of the threats that could debunk what the Scions teach are not ponies, but rather texts and old stories. The original Nightmare Moon tale is, if what I have gathered is true, told in a completely unaltered state only within the Pegasus Enclave and a few dozen tribal groups scattered around in the south. Otherwise, it is confined to the occasional database and storybook. A war on information is quite easy to win when you control a center of intelligence in a world of ignorant scavengers."

I didn't know much about the Enclave, truth be told, but I wouldn't think that telling her that would be appropriate. However, I did have my own concerns about this apparent plan of hers.

"How did this start? Did you create the Scions?"

Shade stiffened, but relaxed after a few moments, giving me a soft, slightly intrigued look. "If I did?"

"You seem to focus on rulers, but what about the people he rules? Are they not part of the issues that you talk about?"

Shade regarded me with something odd in her eyes. "Tell me; do I look like a ruler to you?"

I was slightly confused by her question, but I answered her all the same.

"Where I am from, the oldest member of the community rules not because he is the eldest, but because he is the wisest."

I paused, looking over the small albino priestess in the robe.

"I suppose I would have expected the high priestess to be taller, I must admit."

Shade let out a whooping high-pitched laughed that was loud enough that I was afraid that Candy Cane might wake up, or, barring that, a pony on the floor above us. But, the little filly didn't awaken nor did a pony come downstairs to see an albino cultist and a minotaur in deep conversation.

"You wouldn't be the first one who has said that to me." she replied, eventually, sounding at once tired and amused.

"Once, earth ponies tilled the soil and did the work of the laborer, and were governed by a learned individual from among their own. The pegusi had their armies and maneuvered the sky, and were lead by a powerful warlord who was chosen from his peers by his accomplishments. The unicorns had their magic and serfs, constructed great and powerful weapons to make up for their smaller numbers, and placed a kingly ruler over their varied internal factions so that the internal competition inherent within the noble system would continue to make great works without it all falling apart."

She paused, to breathe.

"Then the two sisters came, and they organized the tribes for a time after they stopped the incursion from Discord, fighting monsters and killing despots and tyrants who were able to take advantage of the weakness of the ponies. After more than three hundred years, however, one of the sisters went mad and the other was forced to cast her out."

I wasn't upset by the mention of Discord, so she only paused slightly to see if I had any reaction to what she had said. I didn't, and so she continued.

"For a thousand years, ponies were ruled by an immortal sun deity that tried her best to stomp out the more extreme aspects of each of the pony cultures and create a government that satisfied all three major parties. This worked, mostly, except in the places where it didn't. Most ponies still stood beside leaders of their own kind, and for some the only thing that changes was that there was now a supreme leader that was always around, like the wind or rain. Celestia defeated her sister, and she ruled from Canterlot.

"However, in this world without a Celestia, ponies continue to turn to each other for guidance, but with that taste of an absolute ruler, their chances of ever becoming what they once were have been lost.

"Without a strong hoof, they all turn to the old patterns. Fillydelphia is the heart of a southern earth pony state that relies on labor and the use of machines to expand, and are led by a learned individual who took his power by force and shear will. The Enclave is a pegasus state in the clouds that relies on their armies and control of the weather to continue their existence, and place their most accomplished war heros in charge. And in the north, the Purebred is a fractured and weak unicorn state that relies on it's varied internal factions to create a better world for those who are in charge, barely held together by the slave trade, all allegedly overseen by a king."

She had a very good point, if what she all said was true. She had yet to lie to me, and what she said made sense. Ponies couldn't rule themselves because they were used to somepony who could rule forever being their leader. Fair enough.

"So, Nightmare Moon is supposed to be a sort of replacement Celestia?" I guessed.

She shrugged. "One who can't die, pretty much. It's hard to kill an idea."

The albino sounded like she was almost done talking, but I still had a few questions.

"How did the Scions get founded, then?"

Shade smiled, like I was bringing up old memories. "Really, I found it. There was a small, nigh-tribal group that used to live in the underground metro system in the far north of the city. They worshiped Nightmare Moon, but it was the hardcore 'doomsday, death, the night will last forever' sort of worship. So, I introduced myself to them, convinced them that I was a messenger of Nightmare Moon, and basically took over. Eventually, other tribes in the area got converted, and I spent a lot of time getting them to a state to where only a few would even think about hurting another pony about what sort of goddess they pray to."

I processed her story well enough, until I noticed that she was speaking in past tense. And she didn't look a day over whatever age ponies stopped looking young.

"How old are you, exactly?"

Shade smiled brightly, and something unnatural started to happen.

Slowly, but surely, her flat set of little pony teeth shifted slightly, to make room for two pairs of canines, each as white as her coat and each as sharp as knives. Her pupils began to narrow, becoming as thin as needles, and I saw her robe shift around a bit near the back.

When she closed her mouth and licked her lips once, I did my best to not look frightened. I had seen sea monsters eat ponies alive; I could handle one monster that was pony-sized.

"One hundred and twenty seven." Shade responded to my question after getting off the couch, revealing a pair of wing-slits in her robe were currently being occupied by a pair of pale, veiny bat wings, colorless except from the slight difference in the shade of white of the leathery skin and the fur around it. "I was minding my own business in a abandoned Stable when I woke up the next day hanging from the ceiling and covered in blood. "

"That's unfortunate." I offered, stunned slightly.

Shade looked at me oddly, as if I had taken an especially good joke she had just told completely seriously.

"It wasn't my blood." she huffed. "You know, you have nerves. The only other person I know who didn't turn tail and run from me when I go full bloodsucking fiend is Charger, but I'm not sure if she's not just dead inside or something. What about you?"

"I have met three immortals and have had trouble with a draconequuis." I admitted. "One of them is a twelve foot long mutant seapony that eats ponies and another of them is my companion, Blueberry Cream. The draconequuis haunts my dreams and Blueberry Cream came back to life after being killed by the seapony. I have also snapped her neck, which she healed from as well."

Shade stared at me like I was the one who could sprout fangs at will.

"Holy shit." the vampiric atheistic albino high priest of Nightmare Moon replied, sounding utterly enthralled.

"I know." I agreed, without irony.

Shade seemed to not know what to say, but when she looked at Candy Cane briefly, longing in her eyes, I glared at her.

"Hey, hey, what do you think I am?!" the vampire replied defensively, "Sheesh, I'v never killed a foal before! Give me a break! Besides, she's Umbra's kid, right?"

I should have expected her to know the other bat pony thing in Caldonia, in hindsight, but before I could reply she just replied to her own question.

"You don't need to answer that; she smells like old and angst." Shade continued, chuckling at her own words, "She's a smart little cookie, though."

I knew that, and while I wanted to talk to the mare some more, I could talk to Candy Cane when she woke up. For now, I had a vampony to talk to.

"How do you know Umbra?"

Shade snorted, and I couldn't help but notice that her nose might have been a little more pointed then it used to. "How does the mouse know the snake? She doesn't care for what the Scions worship, but she likes what they do. We arn't exactly friends, of course. When I first met her, I really hoped I could get her to arrive every so often and pretend to be another messanger of Nightmare Moon for kicks, but she called me an abomination and tried to strangle me, so it didn't exactly pan out."

"What's the difference between what you are and what she is?" I asked, hoping to settle that once and for all.

Shade smiled at me, which was far less comforting now that she had freaky teeth and serpent eyes.

"Umbra told me that the original vampires were a sect of the bat ponies that worshiped primal forces of darkness that got transformed for their efforts, and that the last ones she knew about were wiped out when her Princess arrived to their home cavern and culled them all. Of course, there were probably a few converted vampires on the surface that somehow survived the war. I wish I could tell you more, but I never did ask the stallion who got me in the jugular about his life story and Umbra think's that I'm a monster that will be burning in the sun for all eternity when I die for real."

"Whatever she want's to think." I replied, sounding a little out of it.

Shade gave me an appreciative look. "Yeah."

She started to move for the door out, but turned around to face me before she even made it past the couch.

"Yeah, I got to leave, before the Alicorn in the pools notices I'm here. But before I go, I just want to say that I want to continue this talk later, when I'm not in the middle of enemy territory. But it's been nice the meet you, I just want to say, and if you ever need help the Scions will always be there for you."

I still had a few questions, but I decided not to make any mention of them.

"I suppose you will not be at the wedding?"

Shade shook her head. "No. But I would suggest you be there. Marriage is a beautiful thing."

She sounded sly, there, like she was trying to hint at something but she wasn't sure if she could say it out loud. Whatever it was, I was starting to become tired and I was thinking about how I was going to get Candy Cane upstairs.

"You are aware that there is apparently five or so different murder plots happening at that time, correct?"

Shade laughed. "Oh, yeah. The Scions are involved in half of them."

Charmed, I decided to pick up Candy Cane outright, using the blanket as a slight and putting her across my shoulder, like a swaddled baby.

"Anything else you want to tell me before you go, then?"

The priestess bit her lip for a few moments, and then the metaphorical lightbulb lit up.

"Oh, yes. If you want any assistance from any member of the Scions, there's a secret phrase you would need to tell them to let you know that you are unconditionally a friend."

Interested, I stood up, tiny filly on one shoulder and the metaphorical burdens I carried on the other, and waited for the ghoul to spill it out.

"'Sunset Shimmer reigns from a throne in hell'." Shade said lightly, as if that was all the explanation I needed, before turning around and trotting out of the room.

I decided to head upstairs a few minutes after thinking about what that secret phrase even meant and not coming up with anything. I figured it probably didn't mean anything at all.

Alas, Born Amongst Smoke And Salt She Was Not. There Was Probably Some Sand, Though.

"What is he waiting for, anyway? The games are about to start, and we don't even have our seats yet! "

"Your Highness, you must awaken." a gravely old hill of a voice called out mercilessly, waking me up from a very nice nap.

I knew the voice, and had woken up to the unfortunate sound of it before, but I didn't want to listen to it. I kept still, pretending to be asleep in hope that he would leave and let me sleep a little later than usual.

"Aasifa, get up." the old brute trying to make me lose my beauty sleep grumbled out, sounding close this time. "Your Royal Sire's orders."

I groaned, knowing now that I had no choice in getting up, and stuck a foreleg out from under the silken sheets that covered me like a protective cocoon. Ug, I was so comfy. This was a crime against the state, somewhere, in some book or another.

I slowly untangled myself from the sheets on the bed that was supposed to be made, stopping a few times when I managed to get on my back at some point and had to force myself back sideways, and it was only after a few moments did I managed to get all four hooves on solid ground. I would have felt embarrassed, but I was too tired to be, especially when I had no idea why I was even awake at the infernal hour I found myself at. My room was mostly reds and greens, with the floor dark wood and the ceiling sandy white.

The guard who had awoken me was one I knew, which was only slightly comforting. Baden was a old but sturdy-looking mule, thickly built and having a squarish head that made the light facial scarring on his right temple look even more noticeable. With his green jacket and the gold medals pinned on his breast, it was only his ragged, floppy ears that betrayed him; that he was not some dignified general who hailed from one of the desert tribes, but rather a mule in the service of the crown, one of those who were to guard those who which stallions who could be tempted into treating with less respect then they deserved.

I had known him since fillyhood, and even then he was as distant and rugged as he did standing before me now, if a little more grey around the edges. Baden's father, I knew, was one of the older princes of the family who was not low enough on the royal line to be able to afford to legitimize the offspring he had created with a lowly court servant. Hence, he was trained to be an officer within the royal guard when he came of age, advancing quickly because of a combination of the blessings of genetics and the blessing of not being made a eunuch, being already sterile by design.

And now he was, looking like some old stone sculpture someone decided to wrap in a little suit and looking at me like I was some sort of unfortunate infection.

I was used to his silliness, however, and when I took a delicate step forward, he did not move. He did his best to look like he did not care, but I knew that he, as a member of the guard assigned to watch the mares of the royal family, wasn't even allowed to touch me; bleating at me like a goat with an intestinal problem from across the room was the best he could do in his efforts to wake me up. If he truly needed to awaken me, he would have needed to get one of the younger members of my family to shake me awake.

"And what does my dear father need?" I groaned, heading for my dressing table, which was really more of a reading table at this point. I struggled to find where I left my hairbrush in between stacks of tutor-given reading material and the stacks of half-illegal reading material I had obtained from the rather disapproving royal librarian, who, for the record, was also my third cousin two times removed.

Baden grumbled, his hairless jowls quivering with something like anxiety. "You're father wished to see you immediately, my-"

Seeing that my mane needed to be straightened, I sighed and flipped my hair over to a shoulder, and took up the fine sapphire-adorned hairbrush I had for occasions like this.

"Wauht evuh." I mumbled around the handle of the slim little comb. It was probably about taxes or something.

"My lady, he is entertaining the dignitaries and wishes you to be present." Baden said patiently, like a law enforcement officer would say to a individual who was standing on a tall building and was threatening to jump.

I spat out the hairbrush and quickly rushed to the only other feature of my room of note besides my bed and my dressing table; my closet. If my hair was unfixable, I would need to find something nice to wear that would hopefully distract whoever would be seeing me from my hair.

"From where?" I half-shouted as I scanned the generous clothing rack where I kept all my stuff, scarves and hats and necklaces given their own little neatly organized rows. Each of the major little countries that sent dignitaries to the Saddles tended to have different tastes in what they wanted to see from a scion of a royal house, because each of them had their own unique, terrible experiences with royalty.

The Germane ambassador would want to see me mostly dressed, as he was fully buisness and more interested in money than mares; the one from Prance would want to see me as dressed as little as possible, because that's just how they did that sort of thing; the one from Bactehran would probably be offended if I didn't arrive fully covered in twenty pounds of jewelry and silks; the Aldornian one would want to see me in something casual and comfortable, but that was because that griffon was gayer than a pile of lesbians and probably wouldn't touch a quivering piece of flank if it would bring world peace.

All of the above would be probably better than having to deal with the ambassador from the Zebra Empire, who talked too much and kept talking about how much they appreciated the hospitality were were giving him.

"Equestria!" yelled the mule, making my plans basicly crumble. The Equestrian delegation must had just arrived, then, because the arrival of the ponies from across the sea tended to begin with the zebra's having a fit and ended with the Equestrian diplomat being flown back over to Equestria and the Saddles feeling embarrassed about trying to court both sides of a war.

I had little idea what to wear, really, because I was never around when the Equestrian ponies came around. There were higher royals than myself, and they usually handled it. My father was also not usually one called to talk about the Equestrians, unless it happened to involve about the ledgers regarding the oil money we were getting from them.

Taking a sheer turquoise shawl that matched my eyes and quickly wrapping it around my neck, I stepped out of my closet and glared at the jack, who wasn't looking especially happy either.

"Where are they?" I asked, expecting, of course, to be told that they were meeting in one of the dining rooms.

"Your Highness, they are within your father's study." Baden grumbled out, surprisingly me lightly. My father's study had known more pens than people, let alone Equestrians.

"Is there a reason for that?" I questioned. The mule shaking his head, grunted out a rather simple reply.

"Not that I know of." he wheezed, before adding on "Your Highness."

I sighed, shook my head, and motioned a hoof outside my room.

Baden did what he was told, like a good servant. I stood inside my room until the sound of his wide clunky mule-hooves against the marble floor faded away, and, after waiting a few good minutes, stepped outside my room and into the hall, to see my father for some reason I couldn't discern.

The palace looked beautiful at night.

Of course, it looked beautiful in the day, too, but when it was probably about two in the morning and the overhead lighting was just dim enough so that they couldn't be called turned off, one tried to try and find things one doesn't notice in the hustle and bustle of the day, when one couldn't pause to stop and take in what was around them.

The palace was mostly constructed of white marble, from floor to ceiling, and in the day it took constant overlooking and cleaning to make sure it was free of markings and scuffing, as to not ruin the image it gave. What decor that hung from the walls tended to be green or golden cloth, and the patterns in the tile floors tended towards blues and darker greens. One visitor told me that the royal palace was like an oasis in still life. especially when one was in the main hall, from which sapphires were inlaid in the floor and a small garden was placed in the center. He might have had a point, but in the darkness of night, all the delicate colors and expensive decorations all sort of faded into blacks and greys and browns.

Walking alone in the palace, though, was still a pleasing experience. It was cool and, thanks to several opened windows, pleasantly breezy. I occasionally heard the far-off sound of hooves or the occasional snippet of talk, but in a building that had more than ten floors and was as sprawling as the palace was, one could never be truly alone. I knew a few people who were probably visiting friends, or going to see one relative or another, or were simply using one of the lesser-used chambers for some purpose or another. There were probably some children playing about, or servants working on whatever they had yet to finished in the waking hours of the day. The guards were on patrol outside as well, but they rarely ventured this deep into the palace, where it would take a good half-hour to end up outside even if one took the nearest route to one of the interior gardens.

But one could pretend to be alone in the palace if they wanted to, like I did. I didn't go through any of the main chambers of the palace, where there would probably be some stragglers from the court, on my way to my father's chambers, partly because of that very reason.

The other reason, though, was that my father was no where near any of the main parts of the palace, and was sequestered in a far-off corner of it himself, within a section of the old palace that was left standing when it underwent revisions just a few years before I was born,

I couldn't help but think about what sort of Equestrian would want to see my father. He wasn't a very important person in the court; he was the last person in place for the direct male line of succession. His father was the youngest son of the old king of Saddle Arabia, and because of that he never bothered with trying to admass any power himself. Sure, he was still higher in rank than the sons and daughters born to the cadet branches of the family, but he was still low enough on the political and familial totem pole to where he would never get a managing position in the kingdom of any real importance. He was content to read his books and isolate himself from the rest of the family.

I was happy that I was more like my mother, if not because my father also had a horrible sense of direction and I almost missed a turn down one hall that would have led me to walking down into the servants quarters. I thought it was a little funny that the servants might have had a better idea of why there were ponies meeting my father, but only because I had absolutely no idea why they were meeting him and I wasn't normally told to get up in the middle of the night to see him anyway.

I probably should have talked to Baden more. He probably did know what the Equestrians were doing here and just didn't want to tell me.

The door to my father's study was open, which surprised me slightly. He was usually adamant in keeping his study at about twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the palace for the sake of keeping his precious books from being damaged from the heat, and part of that, besides keeping three or so miniature fans running at all times, was keeping the old wooden door to his study closed, so it wouldn't let in hot air. When I was younger, I once joked to friends that he was afraid to let out all the hot air he carried around, but that joke wasn't nearly as funny as I thought it was.

On topic, though, because of the fact that the lights were on and I did not hear signs of conversation, I carefully opened the door and stepped inside. Because of how the room was set up, I had to turn to the side to see the interior of it.

Behind a big, old wooden desk, one imported from some western nation or another and covered with volumes of legal documents, was my father.

My father was not what most thought of when they thought of the Saddle royal family, which was fine with everyone involved, as he wasn't part of the family by blood. He was from the Seglawi tribe, who were primarily noted for looking, for a lack of a better word, pretty. Long legs, unblemished skin, good cheekbones, and with a taste for the finer things in life, like expensive foreign wines and expensive foreign clothing and expensive foreign mistresses.

Unfortunately, that legendary prettiness wasn't obvious on my father. He was little too thinly built to possibly be completely healthy; not quite sickly, but too weakly built to be due to his bookishness. His beard was scraggly and didn't sit well on his thin face; he kept his eyes narrowed in a slight leer and his mouth in a hard grimace, making his default expression rather intimidating to any who didn't know any better. Most who knew him better often said that he had a heart of gold, though, to use a western phrase.

That's a lie, though. His interior was exactly like his exterior.

He had a plain look on his face, as usual, when he motioned for me to sit down on the cushion in front of his desk. When I settled down, it was only then did he speak.

"It is time that we should talk about your future."

I looked at him. His facial expression had yet to change. I had no idea what to say; where were these ponies? What was the point of waking up at this horrid hour? Did Baden lie to me, or was he ignorant of the real reason I was sent down to see my father. Was I supposed to respond?

Apparently, I wasn't, because my father continued to speak.

"Aasifa, what is the reason that Equestria has been at war with the Zebra Empire for more than twelve years?"

I wasn't expecting a pop quiz at three in the morning, and I wasn't exactly amused, but I answered him right away because I knew the answer.

"Energy." I replied, tiredly, "The Equestrians wished for coal and the zebras wished for gems. The trade was useful to them both until their relations went sour."

"And what do we, the rulers of Saddle Arabia, have to do within this war?"

I was being walked through something nearly every child in the family understood by the time they could walk unassisted. I was too tired to be mad, but I was feeling something like spite towards my father around this time.

"Absolutely nothing. We sell our oil to both the Equestrians and the Zebricans, and in return not a single horse has died in the war. Both countries need what we have direly, and as such neither of them are willing to slight us."

My father sighed lightly. "Do you believe that is true, Aasifa?"

I frowned. It made sense. "I would like to think so."

"I believed that, too." my father replied, sounding slightly sad. "Until today."

I had the slightest feeling of impending dread.

"Father, what is this about?" I asked, trying to not sound the slightest bit judgemental.

"Aasifa, have you considered where you are to go for you're higher education?"

His words confused me slightly. To most members of the Saddles, getting a certification of higher education involved sending a letter to the heads of one of the many prestigious houses of learning in the country and then getting their doctorate of whatever they choose in the mail a few days later. But, I did wish to actually go to college. It sounded fun, anyhow.

"I was thinking a local university, father."

He shook his head. "Have you ever wished to go out of the country for college?"

The thought had never crossed my mind.

"Why would I?"

A strange look overcame my father's face. It took me a few moments to register that he looked like looked pained.

"I believe you need to have support from individuals outside the family, Aasifa. You speak the pony language well enough."

There was more to this, I knew, but I was really quite tired. "What does that mean, father?"

He looked old then, as opposed to merely worn. "It means that, starting tonight, you are going to stay in Caledonia for the remainder of the war."

I didn't reply immediately, because I was hoping he was going to correct himself. My hopes faltered the longer I realized that this wasn't some horrible nightmare, and that I really was awake.

But my father had his reasons. He was not stupid, and neither was he cruel. To be frank, I did see myself living outside the capital for a few years, like I had seen several of my cousins do. Usually it was due to diplomacy, but there were a few who cut ties with the family for misguided political reasons, like those who wanted to make the country democratic in some way or another.

I wasn't one of those, though. If I was going to go stay a few years in another country, I saw myself living in, say, Prance, perhaps set up in a nice big apartment staffed by little ponies in little maid outfits. Not in some obscure northern pony place that was frozen half the year and was mostly grass and dirt.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, hoping that the answer had nothing to do with myself, or my mother.

My father grimaced.

"The King has been assassinated; killed by a zebra poison planted in his drink. Ar-Rideyadh is not a safe place to be for the daughter of a outspoken communist anymore."

Musings Of A Somewhat Dead Bat Pony

"We can save the Crystal Ponies with their history."

I hate this stupid country.

No, really, I do. When I was first dragged into going here I was told how nice it was. How everypony got along and had funny accents and were sweet and friendly and practically oozed maple syrup from their pores.

Even from above, it's disappointing. In other cities, there's things that made them unique. Canterlot was all marble and gold paint where it wasn't gold plated, Manehatten was all steel and glass and sharp-edged but at least had a certain charm to it, and even flying around Hoofington was a experience, because even if it was all overengineered towers and heaps of scrap it was still pretty interesting to look down on as long as you didn't head into the Core.

But Tauronto wasn't even slightly dangerous in it's bleakness; bland. It was all mostly grey concrete and dull towers, with a few gems here and there. The tallest building was the Caledonian National Tower, and I had seen enough of it over the last century or so that I would be happy just to see the whole thing tip over and fall apart already, like it should have.

But no.

Everything in this city is just ready to tumble apart because all the ponies in it are just trying to cling on to the past, undead and otherwise. The Reavers are a bunch of half-crazy ghouls who have gotten it into their heads that they are better than living ponies, but when the only really big groups of living ponies around the place are a bunch of reformed unicorn supremacist and a Nightmare Moon cult, they might have a point.

But there's the whole problem! There's no 'fresh blood' heading into Tauronto. There's no one around to shake up the political scene, and now it's all starting to decay. Red Eye tried to do it a decade ago, and no one has seen a pony with his banner in just as long since one of his diplomats ended up face down in a pile of his own organ meat. The Steel Rangers got kicked out and haven't returned since, and the Reavers just stripped their old place of junk and blew the rest up with explosives.

Even the rest of Caledonia doesn't really bother with going to Tauronto; apparently, it was too close to the Equestrian border to be worth the trip. The ponies of Dise rarely came around to caring what happened around Tauronto, which pretty much meant that no big group of Caledonian ponies really cared about the place. Most just heard about the Reavers and didn't even bother to talk about the crazy ponies who thought they were special or the cultists.

At least my home was, uh, homey.

Also, pretty swanky.

About thirty years ago I just decided that it wasn't worth it just staying around in the Tower, so I tried to pick out a nice place to settle down.

Because I had a terrible sense of humor and/or luck, the apartment I managed to track down was apparently last owned by a pony who had some sort of moon fetish or something. Everything was either black or silver, from the shiny granite tabletops to the black carpeting that was even on the walls and ceiling. I didn't really need a bed, but the sheets on it was made of silk and the frame was made of some dark wood which was pretty untouched by the elements, and I think the bedding was actual griffon down or something.

Besides the basics, though, the place had probably suffered more from me living in it than it did for a hundred years of nopony caring for it. When I came here, most of the decorations- most having some sort of cheesy star or moon theme or something- were pristine and only a little dusty. But living tends to break things, and I stripped all the paintings and hanging ornaments off the walls and put them into one of the closets, so my own stuff could get some breathing room.

Of course, that just made the room look worse. It went from being the home of some pony or another who liked the sky a little too much to being one of those homes with newspapers pinned to the walls, with headlines highlighted and connected with strings; I had three computer terminals set on one table and I had a filing cabinet worth of papers on another. It was all old military and wartime stuff; I didn't come here often enough to get bothered that my house looked like a conspiracy nut's. I had my old clearance card that gave me authorization to look over pretty much anything that wasn't locked down by one of the Ministry heads or the Princesses, and I had a bunch of files printed off a army database and took my time getting them all up here, where I could obsess over ten thousand and fifty-nine sheets of outdated information for the sake of things.

But I didn't live this long because I didn't look over everything I could.

Take my armor; before the war ended, both Royal Guards were changing up their old traditions in the face of modernization. The original branch of the Royal Guard, the one better known as the one that traditionally guarded Canterlot, managed to get along just fine for centuries with hoof-forged steel armor with some decent enchantments. Really, it sufficed pretty great right up until the Changeling attack that happened during the wedding between Cadance and Shining Armor, and plans for more military-minded armor popped up a quarter-way through the war. It sort of resembled a combination a more upscale suit of combat armor with all the trappings of the old uniforms, including a old-style chamfron that just looked obsolete. But, even then, by the time the war was ending there were memos flying around to replace the guards wearing the old-style armor with ones trained to work with some of the newer models of Power Armor that were being discussed; models, that were inspired by the very royal guard armor they were set to replace.

The entire idea of the T-47 armor was to give ponies a sort of advanced blend of metal and magic between them in the battlefield, which is what the armor of the royal guard once was, when 'advanced' weaponry included new ways of making spear tips and wing blades and all that jazz. While it would be fun to just think that both the Ministries of Arcane Science and Wartime Technology just collaborated on their own, Twilight Sparkle's brother was once the head of the royal guard and Applejack's brother was once a solder before he became a martyr. I didn't think it was much of a coincidence that the Empire had their own plans for advanced magical protective armor in the works a year before Equestria did, even if the former relied more on enchanted gems rather than the latter's advanced spellwork.

Now, 'Advanced' Power Armor? Enclave Power Armor? Mostly inspired by the traditional armor of the Night Watch.

Really, it's not that big of a stretch; the armor of the Day Watch is heavy and built for bigger builds while the armor for the all-airborn Night Watch is slimmer but generally more suited for flight. Say what one wanted to about baseline power armor, but it wouldn't matter if you somehow strapped rockets on each hoof and prayed; it wouldn't be feasible.

Advance Power Armor is a entirely different beast than regular power armor, though, mostly because, while it has fewer magical enchantments running the whole show what enchantments it does have tend to be pretty useful. The weaponized scorpion-tail was based off a old archaic thestral weapon that consisted of a cave scorpion tail and a pony who was stupid enough to tie a freshly harvested tail to his own and use it as a flail, and the idea that the wearer of the suit should have more control over their actions when the question of choice vs. safety came up was a relative innovation to most ponies that the zebras had always operated on, among others.

It took me the better part of a year to get all that information cataloged, and what I got from it was this; absolutely nothing. I knew half of it already, and I know pretty much everything my armor does and does not. But history, alas, is all that ponies like me have, and if anything it's not like there's never not going to be a use for it.

Like, for instance, my own people's culture. Thestral history is mostly a mixture of all the worse parts of the other three pony tribes, mostly because the system of caves that weave under Equestria is pretty harsh and breeds isolationism like a plague. The traditional thestral settlement consisted of fifty or so ponies who were all probably related to each other in some way who had lived in the same general cavern for little more than two generations. It is likely that each family would lose at least one foal for every three that were born, from reasons ranging to jealous stallions being unsure that the child is their own to simple starvation or lack of nutrients.

Starvation was the biggest factor in keeping the population low, and unwanted babies were often simply left to die for predators if the parents did not feel that they could care for it. Communication between groups tended to be hard, as different groups often develop their own degenerated form of the baseline verbal language and differences like that could make what would be a perfectly simple statement for one thestral a bunch of gibberish to another who grew up in a different cavern.

Because of this, cooperation between clans tended to be low.

The high point of thestral culture and society was a city in the southeastern part of Equestria, located in a small mountain range that was never named by surface ponies, about five hundred years before the great war. This city was known simply as Nocturne, but the reason behind the name was lost as well; there was some speculation about it being the name of some great ruler or another, but talk is cheap down in the caverns and no one really cared about the previous generations unless a member of it happens to be nearby. Regardless of that, five thousand thestrals - half the entire population - lived within it's rough walls, and half that number lived in settlements that were reachable in a weeks flight from the city.

I grew up in one of the little villages near the city, and I remember when Princess Luna went to it see see what became of her servants, not long after she returned herself.

I was ten then.

A day after she arrived to Nocturne, half the thestral species was gone. Those who survived were told only to bring weapons and food, and to leave all else behind. I had neither and didn't have any parents or guardians, so I went with a group of similar-minded to be trained to serve the princess more directly, in a special facility located near Canterlot.

Luna committing mass murder of five thousand ponies might come to some as being unbelievable, or perhaps even unwarranted, but perhaps a general run down of what I suspect her arrival to Nocturne must have been like would help.

For instance, I don't think the rows of surfacer ponies bound in chains and kept in pens outside homes and public buildings were a good first impression of the city, or the blood-stained temple to Nightmare Moon where the surface ponies were led into to be butchered and eaten by the high priests.

Those who did not live in the city were not sad to see it go. It was ruled by murderers and monsters and things that had no right walking in a place once blessed by Luna. I did not know what she did, or how she did it, but after a day she arrived to the dark heart of our people she sent the entire city deep into Tartarus. Later, she once said that those who were innocents were shuffled elsewhere, but where she never said.

Regardless, out of those who had remained truly loyal to her, she took us into a cavern which had a entrance at the base of Canterlot, where we had assistance in creating a new settlement for our people.

It was as true a city as the one up above on the mount, and it was entirely unlike the rough rock and clay of Nocturne. Few hungered and few felt the need to murder one another and gnaw on the bodies of the recently deceased for nutrition. The bronze spears and bone helms that had served us for generations gave way to true metal armor and arms, much like but entirely superior to the ancient antiques that were prized in the caves for being the best things available. Luna, most importantly, magically implanted knowledge of the modern language of Equestria within us, saving us the need to learn it in it's entirely. No longer was the thestral species bound to clinging to the past.

It went pretty well until the bombs fell, because I was completely out of the country and couldn't go with the rest of my people when they fled. I have a general hunch about where they ended up, but I have no way of getting there. I know I am not the only thestral out in the world that's left, but I seem to be the only one within Caledonia, which is fine by me, really. I can't bring myself to go to Canterlot, either, because I know I would have to face the truth about my own mistakes, and what I could have done to not be in the position I am in, two hundred years too late.

And so, I sit in my apartment, in shame, because I had just left a filly I loved with all my heart to nigh-strangers who were almost certainty were going to get in trouble, and I wasn't sure if I was going to go get her back. A Steel Ranger traitor and the descendent of one of the most brutal individuals I have known to exist in the frozen north were now looking over my little girl, at my behalf.

I cannot help but think that I made a terrible mistake, doing that. I must believe it's a better choice for her than it is for me, though. I cannot be around as much as a little filly like her needs and she's damaged enough, already, and I can't help with that at all.

She's not a monster, despite what her mother was, but I have been doing my best to surround her with them. Reavers and Dragons and Sea Salt and Minotaurs and Me.

At least my lair has air conditioning.

Alternative Unlifestyles

“The Enclave exists because of the cloud curtain. That’s the source of their control, through a stranglehold on crops and information. Without it, the Enclave will cease to exist.”

I don't like unexpected visitors, or ponies who have tried to kill me at some point.

So, really, I was actually being excessively reasonable when I discovered that there was a pony in my house that fit both categories and I didn't try to kill her right then and there.

The abomination that was sitting on my couch and reading a magazine, at first, could almost pass as a normal pony, but that fact that she was reading in the dark made that claim questionable. Because I can naturally see in the dark, though, I could see that her ears were far too long and that she had a pair of little fangs, and that her long black robes concealed wings that were not part of normal pegusi physiology. Talking about her albinism was besides the point, too. She didn't look a day older than thirty, but I knew that she was almost as old as me, give or take a generation or so. I also knew that, while arrogant and powerful, she was not a fool and would not bother with visiting me for no reason, which gave me pause.

It was five-thirty in the morning, anyway, and I had just had a long day, so I really wasn't in the mood to try and kick her face in.

The fact that she waved at me cheerfully when I walked in the room was unrelated.

"Hello, Shade." I grumbled, glaring at the vampire priestess from the other side of the room.

"Oh hi Umbra." Shade replied non-nonchalantly, giving me a almost honest-looking smile, "I'm glad to see you are all in one piece still, it's been too long. Is that a new haircut? It's better than those abominable dreadlocks you had last time I saw you."

My left eyebrow twitched uncontrollably, and I repressed the urge to try and rearrange her face. My hair was cut so short because the last time we met she threw a match in my hair.

"What gives you the right to be here." I said flatly, not bothering to humor her insult. The last thing I needed right now was humor.

She closed the magazine and looked at me with wide, bright eyes, without a speck of anything that would tip me off that she had thoughts untoward to me in her posture or face.

By Luna, I wanted to break her. I wanted to see her get strung up, wings bound and legs broken, and get her dues from Celestia; you couldn't see the sun anymore, but if the light that trickled down was weak that just meant she would burn slower. I wanted to see her kicking and screaming until her freakish colorless hide turned to ash and her horrible eyes boiled in their sockets. Whatever nasty ichor sat in her veins would come boiling out like steam and her bones would burn like logs in a fire.

"I thought we could talk about something that interests us both." she said, her tone even, "At least, I assume it would."

I walked over to a spare chair that was close enough to my couch, carefully picked up the folder that sat on it and placed it on the ground, and sat down. I had a feeling that this was going to be a long talk.

"What is it?" I asked, without really thinking about it. For all I knew, she wanted to have another talk about Luna and Nightmare Moon. But if she was going to start preaching at me I think I would pick up the chair I was sitting on and find a way to make a new hole on her or something.

"The grandchild of Bitter Truth walks in Tauronto, and will be attending the wedding of Irving Boffenspark and Princess Pyra."

I stared at Shade, caught completely off guard. Luna-damn her, she knew what to say to get attention

"How do you know this?" I asked, rightly suspicious and rightly annoyed.

Shade pursed her lips slightly, like she was considering to say something she didn't wish to say but had to anyway.

"I have a pony who saw him arrive in Sunnyside Hotel, accompanied by a plump unicorn mare and a small filly. Within fifteen minutes of his arrival, the leader of the town was struck dead by an assassin's bullet, two ponies were murdered, and the town itself was attacked by a group of armed militants who were later talked down by the minotaur himself. He is assumed to be a servant of Red Eye, as the unicorn mare identified as being from Fillydelphia quite openly, but I do believe we both know better. He is a black coated minotaur with a skill for diplomacy, and was apparently present during the destruction of Watershed and the death of Cheesecake Crumbles. If he's not related to the black-coated minotaur who was renowned for his diplomacy and fighting skills that came into this city than fifty years ago, than I am a fool."

She stopped talking, and took her time to appraise my reaction; I had a lot of practice in keeping my face straight over my life, so I stumped her.

"Given that you are close to the Reavers, I wished to ask you of what you would think they would do to him if they learned of his existence."

That wasn't a real question, really. Shade rarely asked questions when she didn't already know the answers.

"They will kill him." I replied tonelessly, "Slowly."

Shade shrugged. "His grandfather's war with them cost them a third of their number, and the ranks of the Reavers are hard to replace. I think that's a understatement on your part; they will probably give him over to Rawhead and give out squares of his flayed flesh for the fun of it. His death will only come after every single pony in that tower has had their way with him. You know this, and planned on doing nothing about it."

Shade paused. "Now, believe it or not, I have talked to him. His name is Ever Watchful, and he said he knows you. I assume that this is true?"

I blinked at Shade. It was almost worth simply flying outside, tracking down the minotaur, and killing him. I didn't believe he was a bad person, but there was a half-dozen things he could have said to Shade that could jeopardize me or Candy Cane.

Oh, Luna, Candy Cane. Did Shade knew about her? Is this what this whole meeting was about, pure blackmail?

I looked at Shade. Her eyes were guileless and she had a vaguely concerned look on her face, but I had seen that face on her plenty of times before. I once saw that same look on her face while she was smeared with blood from chin to chest and standing over a stallion, his throat so shredded it looked feathery. She was a monster who lied to ponies about hope for the sake of keeping a close food supply and didn't see anything wrong with it. She would absolutely lie for the sake of the moment and couldn't care less about how other's felt about what she did.

I looked at Shade, and nodded.

"Well, then." she replied, "That's convenient."

She clicked her tongue, giving me a small smile. "I am hardly interested in manipulating him. It looks like there's already around three parties doing that already, so I don't wish to get involved with that. But what I am interested in is something he told me, about a draconequis."

Feeling slightly confused, I wondered, briefly, if Shade had gone absolutely insane.

"You cannot possibly believe that stuff about the draconequui. Discord was a freak of nature, a one of a kind."

Shade smiled at me. It was a genuine smile. If I was a lesser mare, I would have shuddered.

"I would be a fool to deny what someone has stated to be true and has no reason to lie. I am not interested in disputing what he claimed, merely what it implied. From what I have read, most minotaurs believe that Discord the Demiurge is the cause of their creation, and that he was merely one of the Spirits of Chaos."

"The minotaurs also once thought that clouds were living creatures and that rain was what happened when they went to war and bled on everything." I said flatly. "They aren't exactly the greatest sources of information. If you want to talk about shamanistic mumbo jumbo, go find a zebra and tell him that you talk to Nightmare Moon and see what happens. I don't have time for this, Shade."

"Fair enough," Shade agreed without hesitation, "But, it still is a interesting note that the Army of the Red Bull thought differently on the topic of their cosmic patron than those who live farther west."

She was confusing me, and that pissed me off.

"What the hell are you trying to get at, Shade?"

Shade smiled lightly at me. "The Bull of the North fought to take Tauronto, as they believed it belonged to them. Really, their reasoning behind attacking the city is sound, especially given that the tunnels bellow the city give weight to their claims. "

I winced.

Shade frowned.

"Umbra, I must admit I am not here to talk about sacred minotaur cities, even if the topic spurned me into visiting you." Shade said quietly, surprising me slightly, "In all honesty, I came here for some information which falls directly into your domain of interest."

I stared at her, the mare sitting on my couch and looking twenty but talking like she's sixty, and shrugged, curious.

"Like what?" I asked, trying to figure if I shouldn't just try and kick her out of my house right then and there.

"Well, the topic of the Army of the Red Bull's mysterious vanishing act reminded me of another mystery, that of the Crystal Empire." Shade replied smoothly, "Given that you are formerly a member of one of Equestria's more clandestine groups, I wished to know of it's currant status."

I sat still for a few, long moments. I had nothing to lose in giving her a bit of information, really.

"What do you already know about the Empire?"

Shade sighed.

"Well, I simply have my guesses and suspicions. But, given that time is of the essence, I simply want to know if it is safe for inhabitation."

It took me too long for me to understand what she was getting at, and when I figured it out I almost wanted to laugh.

"You want to send your ponies up there to convert the Crystal Ponies to Nightmare-worship, is that it?"

Shade's mouth opened up a tiny bit, just enough for me to see her little fangs, and when she closed her mouth she looked slightly embarrassed, like a filly caught snapping the legs of small rodents and watching them try to walk.

"Well, yes. It's a matter of numbers, Umbra. There are about a thousand ponies living in the general area of Tauronto, but of that population a fifth are members of the Purebred, a third have direct ties to them, and the rest are unorganized scavengers or other minor parties."

She paused, apparently for my sake, as if she wanted me to consider what she had just said. "There are some villages north of here, but most of them have been hostile to the ministers I have sent up to them. I would look towards Dise, but there's a religious group that worship's Celestia there and I would rather not interfere with them, as they are doomed to wipe themselves out in due time. Hence, if the Crystal Empire is somehow sustaining a population of ponies, I would expect them to be at least somewhat willing to follow a higher power. If it's even at a quarter of it's pre-war population, the inner city would contain about two thousand ponies ripe for conversion."

Shade frowned again, and she looked almost pitiable. I knew better, though.

"However, if what I have heard is true, it's assumed that the Crystal Empire is a radioactive hellhole, and the population is apparently immortal."

She paused again, and suddenly smirked.

"Then again, those so-called 'Balefire Dragons' are assumed to be the mutated spawn of the captured dragons kept within the Crystal Empire by many, but that's not true, is it?"

I shifted around on my chair, and briefly wondered how the hell Shade managed to come to that nasty little conclusion. I had my own doubts about that common belief, honestly, but I wouldn't let a pony like Shade in my inner thoughts on the subject on any day of the week.

"Some don't think so." I allotted, "I don't know for sure."

Shade's smile got a little bigger, and she raised a hoof as tilted her head, her robe hanging off her like loose skin.

"The Crystal Empire, during the War, served as Equestria's magical artifact disposal site. Because it was so isolated and was already containing the remnants of Sombra's rule in special facilities, it isn't a especially large stretch to assume that certain relics of the past that once belonged to other species would be within it."

I felt the slightest sense of mortification after processing what she said.

"Shade, the Empire is a hideous hell of necromantic, radioactive flame and crystals. The Crystal Ponies will try and kill you the moment they see you. If you try to fly in, there's automated artillery stationed within the walls that will bring you down. The Empire is a deathtrap. Sending ponies up there will just kill them."

Shade, to my displeasure, didn't seem to especially care about all that.

"Regardless, I do believe the behavior of the minotaurs, with their slave-taking and closeness to the Empire, could be explained by them attempting to get one of those artifacts. With that in mind, it would seem as if their methods worked, given how there seems to be at least one of those artifacts in the hooves of someone who knows how to use it. If the Empire's defenses can be breached by throwing in ponies to get what one wants, I would think that, with more knowledge and preparation, going in peacefully would reap even more rewards."

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and shook my head. I had realized the real reason she was here too late, and now I was going to suffer for it.

"What are you getting at, Shade? There's no safe way in getting in the Empire, and even if you could get in you couldn't get what you would be looking for."

Shade didn't so much as blink at my words. She didn't seem to care that what she was saying was insane, actually.

"Oh, well, I thought I could get your assistance in getting into the Empire." Shade said, sounding more innocent than a basket of puppies. "Given that you are one of those few who have been within it's borders and lived."

I snorted. I went to the Empire once; I wasn't going to go do it again.

"I don't owe you any favors, Shade. I have no reason to help you, and I never will. The only reason I haven't killed you yet is that I haven't gotten around to it."

Shade, inexplicably, grinned lightly, and I realized I might have made a terrible mistake.

"The only reason I didn't snap your little filly's neck when I smelled your stink on her, Thestral, was because I knew it was not her fault for associating with you. Forgive me for showing restraint, but I tend to take what I can get. I wish to obtain some magical artifacts of great power, and if I must threaten you to do so I will."

Moving as fast as I could, I kicked the chair under me for a extra boost and locked my left leg around Shade's head, and all she did when I threw her to the floor and kicked her in the chest was lie there and take it. Her wings were crumpled at her sides and I felt something shift under her skin when I kicked her chest.

I think it was a rib, but I wasn't thinking about her safety too much right then.

"Say that again! Say it again!" I yelled right in her face, close enough to where I could smell her coppery breath. I kicked her back legs down with my own, and I

Shade took a few moments to answer, because I guess she was still stunned from being shoved down on the ground and getting a hoof in her chest, but she didn't have any fear in her eyes and she sounded almost arrogant when she spoke again.

"I said, the only reason I didn't kill your little Candy Cane when I smelled the stench of your rotten cunt on her is because I knew it wasn't her fault for-"

Shade didn't get to say anything else, because I used my free hoof to punch her in the nose. She let out a scream and struggled like a fiend, but I was on top of her and all she did in wiggling around was to make my hooves dig into her. I heard a popping noise come from her nose, and when I lifted my right hoof off her face it looked like she got hit in face with a hammer.

She was lucky, because if I had my gauntlets on she wouldn't have had much of a face left.

Choking on and spitting dark blood at me, Shade lost all pretenses at being polite and tried to get her head angled to where she could try and bite me with her unnatural fangs, eyes flashing a bright red and mouth slavering like some horrible beasts. Although she was fast and had a sort of lithe strength in her body, she had no muscle or meat on her and she wasn't used to fighting, so when I made a quick jab with my hoof at her face she wasn't able to block it.

I heard a crunch, and a dozen teeth landed on the floor next to me. Shade made a sound that sounded like a scream.

I raised my hoof, and thought about killing her once and for all.

I didn't know if I could kill her with force - even now, I saw her teeth regenerating out of the bloody remains of her gums - but I knew the sun was about to rise, so if I broke her wings and smashed her head in she would still be hurt enough that she couldn't escape from the sun. I was one stomp of a hoof away from ending her horrible life.

At least, I thought I was, before she spoke in a gurgly, wet voice that belayed how much blood was in her throat right then.

"II haf ordels toth killth tha filleh ith I donth givth my ponth a reporth." Shade said, poorly. She tried to smirk at me, but she couldn't really pull it off, especially with most of her bottom lip being a shredded, busted mess.

I got the message, though. I stepped off the brutalized vampire and watched as she struggled to right herself with her shaking legs. The front of her robe was now soggy with blood, so it stuck to her on odd ways as she stood up and took a few experimental beats with her wings.

Then I flew a few feet above her and bucked her right in the small of her back, because flying is awesome and I was angry.

Shade let out a loud cry at the same time as a loud crack rang out in my ears, and her left back leg buckled into itself and forced her back down on the ground. A fractured cannon bone is a injury that is crippling for even the strongest earth ponies, and it left Shade pulling both her wings and limbs close to her body and shaking like a leaf.

I considered flying a bit higher and kicking her again, but I thought that would have been overkill. I decided to simply land beside her and waited for her to speak. She knew better, because if she didn't she was probably going to die. If I wanted too I could simply drag her over to the very same hole in the wall she came in through and drop her down through it.

But I didn't, because I wasn't going to risk Candy Cane's life. I was better than that.

I waited, and watched Shade make a mess of my carpet. She spat up a hideously large amount of blood that had some meat and the occasional tooth mixed in with it, and her face was dribbling nasty fluids everywhere like a smashed fruit. She whined a bit as her nose took shape again and her bones repaired themselves, but even when she looked like she could stand up she didn't, laying down on the floor like a wounded animal and shaking like one too.

There was now fear in her unnatural eyes, fear which gave me the slightest bit of satisfaction. I had never had the chance to beat down the smarmy mare before, and I had no regrets doing it whatsoever.

But, I wasn't going to kill her. Today, anyway.

"Shade, I'm not going to help you. But if you or any of your ponies do a single thing to Candy Cane, or if you come back here, I'll break your legs and turn you over to some ghoul's who would find that a bonus, considering what they would do to you. Less work for them, yah know?"

Shade's eye's went wide with fear. I shouldn't have said that, because I wasn't about to do something that foul and I usually don't say things that I wouldn't be capable of doing, but Shade didn't know that.

"You.....you're horrible." the albino said, sounding terribly young and scared, "How can you live with yourself?"

I kicked at the floor and took a step forward, hissing at her. "You just threatened to kill a little filly and you drink the blood of ponies! You lie daily to a hundred ponies who don't have anything else except for the false words you tell them! How do you live with yourself!"

Some bit of defiance was left in Shade, and she met my aggression with some amount of her own. Her eye's let off a small crimson glow in the dark and she bared her teeth, like a animal.

"I was bluffing, you...I run a Luna-damned orphanage, Umbra!" she said, sounding exhausted. "I don't kill little fillies! I needed your help and that was the next best idea I had in mind!"

I shook my head at Shade, not so much agreeing with her as acknowledging that she had a point.

"And? I told you what you wanted to know. Tauronto is built on the ruins of Midnight Castle and there's no real way to get into the Empire. Happy?"

Shade stared at me for a few, long moments.

"No, Umbra, I'm not. Do you want to know what is going to happen during that wedding?"

I wondered for a moment about what she meant to do about that change of topic, but then I looked into her eyes.

She was starting to tear up, and I didn't think it was from the broken nose.

"What's going to happen, Shade?" I asked, suddenly feeling light-headed and dizzy.

Shade told me.

I stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the albino mare who had more blood outside her than in her and was giving me the most pathetic look of hopelessness I had ever seen.

"Oh," I said, sounding a little weak, "Fuck."

Figuring that my priorities had changed drastically, I left the room to put on my armor and fly to the Tower, leaving Shade to sleep the day off in my house.

Then, I supposed, I was going to flee the country with Candy Cane, to somewhere safer. Like Hoofington.

Family Matters

"I hope every step we have taken up to this very moment has been worth it to you, because I don't think we can turn back now."

"Well, it never mattered if it was worth it to you."

Within a few minutes of taking Candy Cane back up to the room, I did not hesitate to tell Blueberry everything about what Charger and Shade told me. Her general reaction was a lot less extreme then I expected, because she just started to curse and mumble to herself and question why there were two kinds of bat ponies running around in the city.

We both went to sleep, eventually, although when I finally did there was a bit of daylight shining down on me.

When all three of us woke up, we all agreed we were hungry. So, naturally, we went downstairs, to discover that there was a buffet-style thing happening where there was large amounts of food being rationed out to both the ponies who lived in the hotel and the ones that invaded the place a day ago. There had to be more than three dozen little ponies in the room, all ill at ease at each other and now, with me.

I considered waiting outside the room, with all the big pony-eyes directed at me the moment I was noticed, but I figured that my hunger was more important than what a bunch of little equines thought.

So, without another moment, I took a few careful steps into the ruckus that made up the dining room, and joined it.

Breakfast is a wonderful way to start the day, especially when there's no semimythical creatures around to make it more awkward than what it needs to be.

My apologies to Dawn, but I do prefer to eat around other people who have actual mouths. It helps.

While I stood patiently in line and waited for the pony behind the counter to scoop up globs of what I assumed was a vegetable at one point on the three plates I had gotten, Blueberry and Candy Cane paired up together to find a spot for the three of us at one of the dozen or so long tables around in the next room over.

All said and done, it took me a while to find where the two finally settled down, because ponies were short but Blueberry was shorter than most, and I wasn't especially thrilled to find that it appeared that she decided to sit where Charity and her associated ponies were seated.

The pink-maned white mare who threatened me not a few days before actually waved me over to the table, as if we were as thick as thieves and had no bad blood between us. Charger sat to her right and Karen sat to her left, and both gave me questioning looks.

Seeing that I didn't have much of a choice, I scooted in between Blueberry and Candy Cane, put the food on the table, and tried not to hit either of them with my elbows as I sat down.

I took a bite of the pale green-yellow semiliquid sludge that sat in front of me, thought on it, and immediately decided to never look at it again. Candy Cane just sort of stared at it for a few moments, perhaps to figure out where the food was in the gelatinous mass that sat in front of her, while Blueberry took one look at it and promptly said nothing at all.

Charity, who had a salad in front of her that contained actual lettuce and apple slices in it, grinned at me.

"Do you want something else, dear?" she said, voice all poison and honey, "I can get you something else, if you want it."

For a pony who seemed to assume that I was part of some big, evil slaver ring, she seemed really keen on doing everything she could to insult me.

"No." I said firmly.

"Oh, well, that's fine." Charity replied, sounding incredibly not-charitable as she speared a cherry tomato and chewed on it. "I mean, you could have the pick of the greenhouse if you wish. There's plenty in there, so don't worry about eating everything, big guy."

I could have flipped the table on top of her if I wanted too, I think. Both Karen and Charger already looked prepared to get away from Charity, and I wouldn't think that Charity could move fast enough to get out from under it. I wouldn't think she would have many ponies in the room that would help her, either, so really, I had a opening to

But, I was smarter than that.

"I think Candy Cane could get something better to eat." I replied, figuring that it was a reasonable thing to request, "Given that this would probably stunt her growth."

Charity looked at the filly, who was then hugging my arm and giving her a pouty look, before shrugging slightly and pursing her lips.

"Fine by me. Hey, Karen? Take the filly back, and-"

"Sure thing." the jenny said quietly, her façade of uncaring breaking only when Candy Cane broke out into a smile and hopped off the seat.

The two of them exited the room, and I scooted over to where their was once a little filly so Blueberry would have more room. She gave me a appreciative nod, and went back to not eating her food and looking slightly perturbed by Charger.

The four of us said nothing for a while, the orange mare taking robotic bites of the organic goop in front of her with a plastic spork and Charity nibbling at her salad with actual silverware. while Blueberry and I did nothing but watch them.

Blueberry was the one to speak up first, but that was probably because she was bored out of her wits end.

"So, uh, Charger, you're wearing a Stable jumpsuit. Are you from one of the Stables up here?" she asked, putting on her best conversational voice. She sounded somewhat like she was talking to Candy Cane; I don't know what that means.

"No." Charger replied, after another bite of the pungent slime. "I bought the suit from a merchant. They were cleaning out a Stable, and I helped. I got it as part of the payment. It is comfy."

She paused, and said absolutely nothing else as she went back to eating her food.

Blueberry's fake smile wavered lightly. Charity smirked at her, but I don't think she noticed.

"What about those power hooves you had on earlier? I'v never seen that model before, or any in that color. Are they custom?"

Charger nodded her head lightly. "They were gifts from Boffenspark. It is unpainted; the green color comes from the aurichalcum used in their construction. The exact alloy, if I am correct, is named 'Sparklite'."

Charger paused, again. "I am unsure if it is named after himself or Twilight Sparkle. He is rather uncreative, and has a ego."

"Well, real aurichalcum is really rare." Blueberry replied, again using that same word I didn't know, "Does he sell those, or are those unique?"

"He does not sell them, but he manufactures other things with that same alloy." Charger replied, "So, no."

"Oh." Blueberry said, before going silent, like the mare she was talking to.

There was another pause.

"Hey, you two, I do got good news." Charity spoke up suddenly, sounding cheerful, "We know who killed those two ponies near the elevator."

I didn't think that was a good breakfast conversational topic, but it was good news regardless. "Who did it?"

"The Goddess told me she did it this morning. She forgot to mention it earlier." Charity said in that same sing-song tone, "She said that they snuck in through a window. She killed them and wrote those words because she thought it was funny."

Blueberry looked a bit unnerved, while I felt the slightest bit of relief that it wasn't Umbra who did it.

Charger didn't react to the news, and was back to her food.

"Why would it do that?" I asked, confused.

"Why do those Balefire Dragons fly around the city and don't do anything? I dunno." Charity replied, sounding as if she was talking about the weather, "She said she wrote that stuff because it was funny. I'm not going to question the big blue alicorn that can turn invisible and knows a spell that causes heart attacks."

This Alicorn sounds worse the more I hear about it. I didn't actually need to know that it could turn invisible, or make things have heart attacks with it's thoughts.

Blueberry shuddered.

"Do we have to talk about that thing? Isn't there anything else we could talk about, like the wedding?"

I wondered what made Blueberry consider the casual murder of a pony a better topic than the comparatively nonthreatening alicorn, but I wasn't going to judge.

Charity looked at Charger for a few moments, who didn't seem too concerned with the topic, and after a few moments she leaned in and spoke in a comparatively serious tone.

"We can talk about the specifics later, but after this I'll let you go through the armory. We'll need to get the two of you fitted for clothes, too."

My mind blanked out for a moment, but Blueberry spoke for me. "Fittings? We wouldn't be wearing protective clothing or anything?"

"No, not at first." Charity said, sounding as if the answer to Blueberry's question was obvious, "I mean, you might, but Boffenspark has robots patrolling the place so there's no real excuse for having armored guards around. There's a dress code involved, but if everything goes according to plan then there won't be a reason for anypony besides Rollcall's group to be armored. I'm thinking about weapons right now, though."

She looked at me, expectantly. I figured that she wanted to know if I had any weapons on me, and I replied accordingly.

"I am not comfortable with guns." I admitted.

Charity stared at me for a few, long seconds.

"Well hell." she replied sourly, "Give me something to work with here!"

"There is, in fact, a small collection of melee weapons in our armory, Charity." Charger spoke up quietly, giving the white-coated mare pause, "There are several utility axes and picks, as well as a few varieties of magical energy spears and polearms. I do think one of them lights itself on fire when it is turned on."

"Huh." Charity said, apparently enamored by the idea of a flaming spear, "Well, that settles it for me. Minotaur, you got yourself the pick of the armory if you want."

"I will try and pick out something for myself." I replied, before having a sudden urge to mess with her. "Your kindness will be remembered."

Charity went stiff as a board, while Charger's brow raised the slightest bit. Luckily, Blueberry was in on the joke and smiled slightly at Charity, which just caused the bossy mare to look even more uncomfortable. Hail Red Eye, if that got the mare to shut up.

"Uh, yeah, sure, whatever."

A few moments later, it seemed as if she was going to speak up, but whatever it was that she was going to say died in the back of her throat, along with most of the noise in the room.

The silence came suddenly, which is a little unnatural in a big room filled with ponies, which made clippy-clop noises when they walked. It wasn't a complete silence; there was still mutterings and hushed words, but nothing close to what was going on a few moments ago.

I turned around in the seat, and I saw what was the cause of the silence.

It was looking at me.

He was a tall white-coated unicorn, not muscular like some of the stallions in the room but relatively tall for a pony. His coat was white and he was wearing a white suit with a yellow tie, both spotless. His eyes were a dark brown and his shoulder-length hair was a custardy yellow-color, done in tight ringlets.

The pony struck me as somewhat, distantly familiar. I felt a instinctual urge to flee when I realized why I thought I knew him, though I didn't act on it.

His horn lit up, and in a flash of light, something like a sword appeared, made of a bright golden light.

I didn't know what I was supposed to do, but Blueberry jumped out of her seat, as did Charity.

Charger just lowered her head slightly, until her chin touched the table. She didn't seem to be especially concerned at the situation.

I sat there, confused and mortified. Half a hundred big, wide pony eyes were looking at me, and there was a angry unicorn pointing a blade made of magic and light at my face.

"You." said the stallion, voice surprisingly strong-sounding for a pony, filled with righteous loathing. "My name is Cheesecake Claymore. You killed Cheesecake Crumbles. You killed my sister and her friends. Prepare to die."

I raised a arm to defend my neck, but I realized too late that he was going in for a stab.

I had inadvertently covered my eyes, but I felt a sharp stinging sensation, followed by the oddest feeling of something trickling down both my chest and my back at the same time. I wanted to do something, but soon I couldn't feel anything at all and all I heard was the sound of someone screaming.

The last thing I felt though, was falling on the floor, face down, and getting kicked in the chest.

The last thing I thought was 'Oh damn it that hurt', but that's really unimportant, all things considered.

Eternal Empire

"I think he got banished and then thrown into a dungeon in the place he was banished to."

Shining Armor is dead. Long live Shining Armor.

The captain of the Royal Guard and the Prince of the Crystal Empire died wearing his purple-and-gold armor, while standing. He was still standing, even now, one hundred and twenty seven years after the farce with the zebras, in the middle of Ministry Walk.

I was not impressed with the sight.

While one could say something about his stubbornness and determination to save Canterlot, the truth was that his very armor had fused to his bones and, to a extent, the marble platform he stood on. For all the stallion's bravery, he still burnt out entirely at some point and the Princesses began to take his place holding the shield, and for that, neither of them could escape.

He should have known better. He was the High General of Equestria, after all, and possessed one of the greatest horns in the nation at the time. He could have literally been anywhere else and survived. No place was attacked with the same ferocity as Canterlot, and anywhere else his shield-spell could have very likely have held through the worst of any megaspell volley. He could have developed the ability to filter out magical radiation through his shield as well. It was entirely within his power, and I did not doubt that he was able to do so, if he could stop the corrosion of the Pink Cloud.

But he stayed and died on a raised platform, in the middle of a public garden, alone. There was only a few bodies in this general area, a rare thing in Canterlot. Surely, ponies had long fled this place during the first hours of Pink Cloud attack; even the corpses of his fellow Guards tended to be further down on the mount, closer to the base of it, as they were involved in the pointless evacuation of civilians.

I did not come so far, to dread and dead Canterlot, however, just to stare at a dead unicorn. If I wanted to do that, I could have simply stopped at any one point and looked in a mirror.

This was, truly, pure catharsis. Finding him was a grand task, but one I decided I had the time for. It was not the ponies here that was the greatest threat to me, but rather the temptations of this city. I could go back to the school I once taught at, or attempt to bind a Canterlot Drake to my will. But I had not needed to do so, because I had a single task in mind.

With that thought in mind, I took a step forward. The grey, crumbly ground gave slightly under my weight, and wisps of dark pink vapor tickled at my hooves.

I ignored the sensation of the Cloud nipping at my heels, and got on the platform, and walked towards the corpse. In the pink-tinted lighting, I had to focus my sight to get a good look at the stallion, to tell metal apart from flesh.

Shining Armor was a large stallion, and I was never the tallest of ponies, and so I found myself looking slightly upwards, to look the stallion in the eyes.

Well, sockets, now. His face was quiet skeletal, with just a few bits of dried flesh clinging to the jaws. This irked me; even now, he had a expression of thoughtless determination on his face, as if he simply believed he could survive the Cloud with his own will by gritting his teeth and baring it.

"Your sister was a idiotic mare." I said calmly to the corpse.

Shining Armor did not respond to my accusation, as I expected.

I considered why I thought this was worth it. I did not consider myself to be a petty pony, but tracking down the corpse of a singular pony who didn't even know me especially well did strike me as slightly petty.

"Her consciousness is now merged with that of a magic school dropout and two of her cronies, along with an uncountable number of other unicorns. She is not in control. Far from it. She is a puppet to the whimsy's of a abomination, and there is nothing she can do. Her so-called Element of Harmony has failed her."

The Captain of the Royal Guard's horn was slightly frayed at the edges, perhaps a sign of immediate damage from prior overuse. It resembled a tangle of fibers along the base of the skull, binding the base of the horn to the forehead. The Pink Cloud had long since fused them to the very bone, giving his horn the appearance that it was sprouting out of the middle of a meaty bone-white flower.

"Your father was in Braylin when you died, and your mother sits in a wheelchair not a mile away from here, alone. She does not know you are here, and can never reach you because of her inability to walk and her lack of companions. She only has pictures of your dear sister, your little idiotic twit of a sibling who died screaming in a vat of her own creation."

I paused.

"I talked to her for a hour. She never mentioned your name. I would think she has forgotten you."

Shining Armor stood ramrod straight, like I was his very own commander. This amused me, and I continued to speak.

"Your wife abandoned you, you and your people. The Empire vanished a hour after Cloudsdale was destroyed, and the Princess of Love absconded along with the Empire. She is immortal, along with her traitor ponies, and she left you to die alone. Did you really believe the Crystal tribe would accept another foreign unicorn king?"

Shining Armor resembled a statue, in a manner of speaking. How fitting that he was now bonded eternally with his namesake, a monument of the old world.

I felt a brief amount of anger when I realized that Shining Armor was most likely the first pony to know that the Empire was gone, and yet he still followed his first two princesses.

"That pegasus guard you left in charge of the Empire's defenses flew into the sky the moment his tribe's capital was obliterated. He became the first general of the Pegasus Enclave's forces, and that position was already held for him before he arrived. He named his first child Skylight Sparkle. What madness convinced you to put a pegasus in charge of the defenses? They are loyal only to their own, like your precious crystal ponies."

Shining Armor, I believed, already knew that Flash Sentry had lusted after his sibling, but kept him on for his own amusement. The alternative was far too strange to even consider.

"Your last act was a folly, Shining Armor. Nopony alive knows your name except for the few remnants of civilization that care for your sibling. You have no great monuments to your name. You have no great historical footprint to your proud family lineage. Your children died screaming in a necromantic inferno, and you chose the wrong place to defend in your last moments. Canterlot is known only for it's horrors and it's connection to the past, and even then you are barely known even to the ghouls who lurk here. You are a joke, a minor anecdote. A piece of trivia."

I paused, and slowly, without any force touched the dead stallion's horn.

"It is thought by even those learned ponies that remain that it was solely the Princesses that held the shield." I said, slowly applying pressure to the dead appendage, "Your last act, your most triumphant spell, was wasted on two dead deities. Harmony is a lie, a lie you died for. Everything you died for was a lie. Loyalty to your crown, the love of your wife and children, and the trust of your friends; all lies. You died for a war that was never going to end in peace."

I paused, putting more pressure on the horn with my hoof. I did not have much power in my old limbs, as my body was failing me long before my ghouldom, but Shining Armor's horn was weakened from exposure to the Cloud.

After a few moments, Shining Armor's horn popped off, leaving a moderate sized crevice in his skull. The faint smell of rot reached my nose suddenly, and vanished soon after.

Without his horn, Shining Armor could have passed for just another low-blooded earth pony, possibly from one of the hill tribes. How comforting; in the end, even the greatest among us all rot into the same sad shape.

I picked up the horn with my own magic, and turned to the side so I could examine it without seeing the corpse. It was a proud horn, certainty; I had previously made my way though the old Blueblood estate, to obtain certain items that laid there, and they were all the old blood of Unicornia. Shining Armor could have laid amongst any of those proud stallions and mares without looking out of place.

And now I had his horn, a key to many treasures.

It took me the better part of a month to find him, in this place. It was just a horn, albeit a very powerful one. The idea that this was all a petty way for me to talk to a dead pony wasn't too far out of my mind.

I looked around me. Canterlot was a crumbling pink-tinted ruin, pale marble tinted sickly dark hues like rotten teeth. What remained of the great unicorn-built capital was a rotting mess, a abomination. Only those rare places that were magicly warded has truly survived, and even then the Cloud is a insidious thing that eats away at the very roots of the mount. From the crystal caverns below to the tip of the castle, this place was dead.

I looked back at Shining Armor, who was already starting to crumple down onto the ground. His head was starting to deflate and sink inwards, like a melting plastic toy, and his limbs were only now beginning to buckle. My disturbance of his cranium was apparently enough to cause him to collapse, just like anything else in Canterlot.

"General, you mishandled this war." I said lowly, prodding the right knee slightly, so that the cloud-ravaged corpse appeared to kneel before me. I paused, as I smiled in the first time in many years. I felt muscles on my face that had long gone slack tighten at my command. The exposure to the pure radioactive power of the Cloud did me well, even if it pained even me to be here.

"You believed it would be not be any different than the sagas you read of, those of dragons and heros and villains. In this war, however, individuals did not matter. Hero's who stood outside the lines died just like every other pony. Those who slay dragons can die from bullets all the same, and one's own personal experience or cunning made no different to the zebra who ended their lives. The individual is only worth what blood he can spill, how many seconds he can contribute to battle before his death. Ponies are a kind where every individual is seen as special, and where you failed, general, was in trying to rectify that. The myth of a single hero and his merry band of followers permeated your military, and many foolish deaths by caused by this delusion. You were mistaken, in believing that individual ponies mattered when a hundred died every hour."

I placed the horn down on the ground near my left hoof, and began to channel my magic as I focused on the corpse of the stallion.

With a thought and slight pulling sensation from deep within, I ignited the corpse with a moderate amount of flame. The Prince's form melted like wax, and metal and bone became akin to a slurry, and I observed that the flame slowly became green-tinted, from the ambient magical energies of the place. I took a slight step back, tugging the horn with me, and observed that the smoke slowly coming off the stallion was tainted the slightest shade of pink.

Green and purple and pink and grey, that was what the body of Shining Armor became as it slowly melted into a puddle of necromantic goo. Green and purple like the dragon brat his sister had with her before it went into a dragon-sleep, pink and grey for his wife and the dead cold Empire he once ruled.

"The fact is, Shining Armor, war is not like your stories. War is what led the world to this state and war is all that remains. The remnants of the war you were in charge of keeps me and the brutal beasts that ponies have become alive. War never changes."

I stopped, and stared at the remains of Shining Armor. His remains were now a smooth, glassy black puddle, carbon and liquid death.

When I turned around, I took his horn with me.

I began to walk out of Ministry Square, to go to the very Eternal Empire I despised.

A unicorn's job is never done.

Constant Vigilance

That's Cerberus! He's supposed to be guarding the gates of Tartarus! But if he's here, then all the ancient evil creatures that have been imprisoned there can escape and destroy Equestria!

Destroy....Equestria?

Yeah! Isn't it great?!

The wasteland is a terrible place. Filled with monsters, robots, and even ponies, it offered nothing to me or my people. The brave few who would stand guard against it themselves are to be valued, and are often held up high as bright lights in a vast dark sea.

Well, if there was anything to guard against, anyway, I might feel accomplished. A dead, cracked highway leading to nowhereville surrounded by dead, ashy cracked ground under a dead, ash-colored sky means that almost no living thing actually wants to end up this far away from their apparently cozier huts, holes, and hovels south. Well,the minor radiation saturation in the south might be the issue, but we have a bit of tolerance to radiation, or at least, that was the story I have been told over and over again. We can handle it better than ponies, anyway, and it could be that ponies are just weak to it. Makes one wonder if other creatures are harmed by it as bad as they are. I mean, Hellhounds are probably highly resistant to it, and donkeys seem to be affected by it less.

It's fitting, I suppose, that the ones who caused this mess suffer from it the worst.

I spent much of my free time then wondering if the next thing that passes through our little neck of the woods would be a traveler, as it's always nice to get some stories out of them about the world and what it is like beyond my home. Could be that, a few days travel from here, the ground is a different color than the sky and there's actual grass instead of weeds.

But that's it, really. Nothing happened here. But wasn't that a good thing? I had heard stories about raiders, ponies that had gone mad and traveled in bands that killed everything they saw, and of things like packs of feral ghouls and hellhound's living in the wastes. No, it was better this way.

Bah, who was I kidding. I was bored. Horribly so. Such was life in a out-of-the-way town with little to trade and little need for it, but even this was more boring than usual. This was not the typical “Waiting for the hunters to come back” sort of boring or the “When was the last time a caravan went by?” sort of boring, nor the “Hey, is that a bloatsprite?” sort of boring. No, this was the “Oh gods, please, send the Steel Rangers or something to make me feel alive! Pan, Prancing Pink Pony Princesses, anyone! Come on Discord, you owe us!“ sort that was dreaded by those whose only job was standing very still and watching something.

I mean, yes, the Elder always told us to keep ourselves watchful of the world, because a strong mind kept the body strong. I, for one, thought that was utter trash, and is no excuse for making the younger members of the commune watch cracked roads for half a day, but the Elder also had a minigun that shot lasers. That, and he was twice the age of anyone at camp and could still outfight the entire pankration team at once, so his word is law by default.

Makes one wonder why ponies didn't do that. Let the biggest guy around with the most power rule, and let others fight for the title to rule. Worked for us. And, according to the elder, others like Dragons and Griffons and even Hellhounds live the same way.

Wait, shit. They did. Then one of them split up power between a few other ponies, and suddenly the world blew up in their faces. Heh. Stupid ponies.

Minotaurs:1 Ponykind:0

While I was pondering the meaning of life in a dead world, the secrets of the universe, and the true purpose of existence itself, I was startled by a high-pitched squeak, followed by a poke to the shins with something soft. I raised my head up from the moldy road sign depicting some coffee drink or another from 200 years ago and noticed the originator of the noise and the invader of my personal space.

It was a pony, a small one at that, considering she barely came up to my knees and I was only six feet or so.

“Err, good...err, bull?” it said, high pitched and sounding a little unnerved.

And female, if her voice was anything to go by, as well as far too innocent-sounding for there to not be a gang of raiders right behind her. Then again, considering the entire area is scrubland with the slightest hint of grey, said raiders would have to have been invisible or incredibly sneaky.

Giving another look at the pony, I guessed that she might be a stable-dweller. It was simply too clean for it to be a regular wastelander, and more than one had traveled up here only to be turned back around. Sorry kiddo, the Hoof is the other way.

“Are you here to trade or to pass through, little pony? There's a toll you need to pay.” I said boredly. It was a pointless gesture, really, considering that no one ever passed through this road more than once and the amount we charged was low anyway.

The small blue chub-blob recoiled at the sound of my voice (what? I thought I sounded nice. Like smooth sand. Or gravel. In a thunderstorm), but quickly answered me.

“Trade.”

I was slightly confused. No one came to a place like this with any real intent to trade, but few actually took the offer to come into my people's domain willingly. I looked at the pair of two leather saddlebags near her, blinked, and then at her expecting light blue eyes.

I moved myself from my lax position and got in front of the mare. I waved a hand over for her to follow where I did, and while it took three more tries to get her to understand what the gesture meant, she eventually got the message.

The fact is, in order to get to the compound where my people live, you have to find the hidden stairs. Now, this might sound silly to some, but the craggy hills where the stairs are have enough old bones at the bottom to prove that ponies are not suited to climb things. Apparently, they can launch doom-missiles to obliterate civilization, but cannot climb stairs without tripping.

But, less talking about the past and more about helping the mare get to where she needed to be.

But perhaps some exposition is in order those who don't know of the setting; the whole complex was built inside a large depression on the north side of hills closest to the single road that came through our territory a mile or so away from it proper. Apparently, most ponies just think it's just like any other semi-abandoned town in the hills we lived in, so we get the occasional shocked looter who thought they were clever in scaling the hillside and finding that it was very much inhabited.

I had been more than a day's travel away from it for most of my life, but I was always surprised at how the few visitors we had talked about its supposed sophistication, considering that it was pretty bare-bones with what it had. But the important thing, I suppose, was that it was home.

Now, the reason I mention this was that the small blue pony, looking positively clean and very un-wastelanderish,managed to walk more than thirty minutes uphill without even looking tired.

“Is this it?” she inquired, looking at the set of stairs that wrapped around the hill that the commune was behind, doubt dripping her voice.

No reason to beat around it, I supposed. “Yes. Can you climb?”

She gave me a questioning glance, one that made me shudder a little. Pony eyes were simply too big for their heads.

I wondered slightly about if I should climb it first and get the rope or just see if she could make her way up, but looking at her squashed both ideas. She could not hold a rope with her little pony hooves. I groaned, which caused her to back a few feet away.

I had an idea, but I think I would need to know her name first, considering what it implied.

“Err, so what is your name, little pony.” I said with my best attempt at eloquence.

Her ear's twitched a little, as if to show that she was surprised at me speaking.

“It's Blueberry Cream." she said quickly. "But it's not really nice to ask for somepony else's name before one gives their own.”

I looked at the mare again, wondering if I should give her my actual name. Eventually, I decided it would do no harm if I did.

“It is Ever Watchful.” I said.

She looked at me for a few seconds, and then at the supposed steps, and then back at me again, frowning.

“You’re going to have to carry me up there, arn't you? You’re just asking for permission before you pick me up.” Her lips curled in distaste.

“Yes.” I said, nearly snorting at the glare she was giving me.

“If you try anything, I will kill you.” She could only be joking. The both of us knew it was hardly a threat. A better name for her would be Sponge Cake. Or Cream Pie. Or Jiggle-Wiggle.

I wiggled my fingers exaggeratedly in a way that, through trial and error, I knew would make her laugh. I wasn't sure why, but it alway's made female ponies either blush or break out laughing. Apparently, Blueberry Cream was in the later group, and after a few moments of laughing she relented in letting me pick her up, bags and all.

After an amusing conversation, a very hasty climb, and a quick dusting off, I continued to walk up the compound with the supposed trader right behind. It was far easier to see when your on the high part of the hill-scape, considering that you can see the telltale signs of life in it. I also saw two familiar faces; Copper Pot and Brass Knuckle, both of whom apparently back from hunting and were standing around near the old, rusting gate to the compound.

I was not truly looking for a meal right now, despite the burning day-star’s attempt to cook me for four hours, but looking at the slightly...jiggly pony behind me, she would probably would not turn down bacon. Or the whole radhog. Brass, a leaner nice-looking cow who somehow got her hands on a super-sledge from a trader one time or another, gave a questioning glance at the still-blushing pony and then at me. Copper, who was another, far younger bull who knew exactly what I had to do just from the look on my face, gave me a grin and a thumbs-up. I glared at him for his weird behavior, which just made him laugh. Brass, however, just looked at me like I grew two heads and began mooing.

“She's a trader?” she said, waving her free arm in the direction of the mare to my side.

“Yes” said Blueberry, to everyone else’s surprise, sans myself. And Blueberry. To be frank, the only one surprised was Brass, as Copper Pot was just twiddling his thumbs and grinning at Blueberry in the odd way he did to everyone else he sees. I swear that bull drank some bad milk when he was a calf.

Brass looked at the little mares big bags with visible doubt, and leaned a little to her side using the handle of the mechanical hammer next to her. “So what’s in there, scrap metal, foodstuffs...?”

Blueberry grinned at Brass, showing far too many teeth for it be a real smile. “Electronics.”

Copper suddenly cared about the presence of the little trader-mare, staring at her intently. “What kind?”

She thought for a moment. “It’s the best quality of stuff you can find nowadays without shooting a turkey.”

Copper laughed at the mare's words. What a “turkey” was I had no clue, but apparently he did. Brass gave me a look too, so I was not the only one without a idea what was going on, which made me feel a little better.

The semi-crazy bull gave the mare a look. “So, what’s in there, really?”

Her formerly amused expression turned into one of annoyance. “Electronics, batteries, robot parts, a few power cores...stuff.”

Brass was slightly through with amusing Copper, and pushed open the gate with a single thrust. Honestly, I expected the mare to look impressed, like it was intended to be, but she just trotted through. Then she stopped to take in the view.

To be fair, I have never traveled too far away from home. The hunters can be gone for weeks, but then they come back with food. I don’t see why I would want to go traveling, anyway, considering the whole world is brown, grey and irradiated. But ponies always go nuts when they get inside our little nook in the world.

Blueberry was staring at the whole complex in mild amazement. Honestly, I don't know why. Sure, there were about fifty or so minotaurs wandering around, and perhaps twice that amount in goats and sheep, but the buildings were clay and stacked on top of one another like boxes. They were windowless, ugly brown heat-sinks with doors you could hardly fit through, and the whole thing was carved into the cliff face, so there was electricity unless you lived on the lowest level where there was a generator. Yet, the little blue pony was looking at it in awe. Really, I will never understand it.

Blueberry was still looking at the houses (the small, cramped, stacked houses that smelled like goat) until she noticed the “trade station”, which was in fact just a few benches and shiny objects near the town square. As she trotted near it, more members of the clan took notice. A few looked upset, and even more looked away from her. I saw Mud Molder, the head builder, look disgusted at the little blue ball’s presence, but I never liked the old fart. Luckily, I did not need to get the Elder, because he was walking right out of his home, the only real building in the place, and spotted her.

The Elder was a huge old bastard, still huge even as he stooped a little from what I half-suspected from the shear weight of the rack of horns he sported. Most minotaurs were built at least thickly, but he was thin and wiry, a set of sinew and muscle set on a minotaur-shaped wire mesh, horns curled slightly at the tips and the keratin so old beyond the base that it was a dark yellow color,

His fur was grey, almost white, with only the darker hair on his head any indication that, at one time, he was completely black-coated, and it was so thin and translucent that you could see the big blue veins on his arms. His fingers were knobbly and gnarled but they were deft and long and I was sure he could wrap his fingers around Blueberries midsection with one hand, or, perhaps a more apt metaphor, my neck.

“I suppose you are here to trade?” The Elder spoke in a hushed tone, like how he would get all fatherly with a child, but the little pony who was a quarter of his size

Blueberry looked like she was echoing the second part of her name. “Err..well...yes?”

The great grey bull grinned, gold teeth shiny in the light. Blueberry gulped.

A few hours later, it was apparent that whatever Blueberry Cream had interested the Elder very much, and so he offered her one of the spare huts to spend the night. And after a few more hours of guarding the road, I got to hit the metaphorical hay without a care in the world. I was hardly hungry, and most of the guys I would talk too were already asleep by the time I arrived back to the gates. In essence, I was in slumberland, dreaming away the hours of the night. At least, until I was woken by a knocking sound on my huts floor. Groggily, I turned my head to who would interrupt my sweet slumber.

Brass was half-drunk and had a deck of cards with her, so there were two things wrong already.

“Cumon, get up. Weea gotta go and have fun” she slurred. How the no one else heard her was beyond me, she was moving like a drunken....ah.

I was still in my bed, a rough little thing with a thin mat on a hard slab of stone. Laying on my side, I did not bother to get up. I gave a little sigh, but I was still surprised by the uptight cow's rash actions.

“Brass, you know drinking and gambling of any sort is banned. If the Elder finds out will cut your han-”

“The Elder knows shit, Ever Watchful, you know that. Me and the boys found some ol...old wolrd wine up in a crate in the hills, and we...we are having fun!” She finished, pleased with herself.

I sighed. Crap. The hunters found some booze. As in, the well-armed, trained, mildly crazy minotaurs found some mind-altering drink and are still awake. This could only end well. I looked up at the red-ish cow standing in my doorway, and then at the dusty floor of my room, and then again at the large, tipsy object between me and freedom.

“Fine, Brass, just let me get prepared.”

She snorted, but slowly steadied herself and carefully began to walk off.

I hoped she tripped. A fall from the third layer of housing could do her some good.

I attempted to wait out the night, but the thought of what could happen if I did go was playing through my head. Yes, you could end up exiled or killed if you were caught doing anything against the rules, but still, alcohol! There’s only so much one could do here, and a break from the norm, anything, was welcome no matter the risk. Well, sans death.

I looked at my dwelling, as if in a attempt to scrounge out some hidden signal on what to do. A small desk was piled high with random junk, a soft mound of random cloths, a few knick-knacks scattered on the floor, and of course, my guard gear: a steel machete, a simple leather-on-iron breastplate that was probably too thin to be much good, and a few bits of barbed wire to wrap around my horns. Frankly, I never saw the point in wearing any of it, but the Elder’s word on the matter was that any adult male should be able to fight for this place, regardless if they were a pottery maker or a actual guardian.

A seeming decade in figuring out patterns in the ceiling was a failure as well. I sighed, and righted myself up. Slowly moving out of the bed, making sure not to make much sound, I eased my way to the entrance of the hut. A few seconds later, I gave in and decided to take my supply belt with me, but more importantly the little knife and first aid kit attached to it.

It was going to be a long night, after all.

Family, Elders, and Plot

I just looked at my father and suppressed the urge to say something about the sociopathic pony that was following me, but his next words stopped any chance of that getting out of my mouth.

“You failed, Ever Watchful.”

Dumbfounded, I had only a single thing to say, and that was “What?”

The scar-covered hardass who just so happened to sire me just gave a grunt of annoyance.

“You had three chances to avoid this mess. Three. Every time, you failed.”

It took a few moments to let that sink in, but when it did, it stung. Hard. I said nothing, and knowing Bulls Strength, he did not expect me to anyway. When he talked, other’s stayed quiet, lest they get hurt.

“First, you did not question Blueberry Cream about her origins. If questioned, she would have responded with the name of a far-off town and, and as a guard your duty is to subdue strange individuals.”

I internally groaned. This was a test! Curse that little demonic pony; she was probably paid off to screw with me!

“Your second chance was to stay in your chambers when Brass came to wake you up.”

His tone never changed, but there was a newfound undercurrent of disgust in his voice. While not necessarily demanding, there was a certain element in his voice that made me want to kneel as he spoke. It scared me.

“Finally, you failed to bring Blueberry Cream down and take her to either me or the Elder when she was found by you.”

I just glared at Bull, who just let out a hearty chuckle.

“Now, then, I want you to come and look at the pool.”

Naturally, I followed. Perhaps some decent father-son talk could save me from losing my guardianship and being reduced to a pottery-maker or goat-tender.

The pool was thin but wide, a sparkling white-blue spot in the grey earth, and I leaned over it. Compared to slushy grey pools that formed naturally because of rain, it was pristine, almost unnatural looking, something alien to the world at large.

Bulls Strength never moved from his leaning position on the pillar, but intoned a simple command.

“Look at yourself.”

I did, unsure of the alternatives. The pool was calm enough to be almost mirror like in its properties, and I saw my reflection easily in it. I saw my body, lean compared to some of my other kin but still somewhat bulky around the shoulders compared to some of the other bulls, and the uniform black-grey color of my fur. My horns were slightly curved and sharpened, but still thinner at the base than most of the others my age: there was a joke in that, and many of the cows knew it. In all, I looked normal, sans the distinct lack of visible scars that most others had gained through daily life in the commune.

After a few minutes of gazing at myself, I gave in.

“Dad, what’s this about?”

He just gave me an amused look. “Have you memorized how you look, Watchful?”

I was confused, but pressed on. “I suppose, yeah?”

“Remember, that is what you looked on your last day living here.”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. In fact, I nearly tripped on Ton of Bricks prone form when he said it. I still said nothing, barely comprehending what he just said. Exile!

Bulls expression, sensing that most of the thoughts in my head were now related in some way to patricide and the methods regarding it's execution, turned grave. “You know that this is the only punishment that is fitting for a failed hunter, Watchful. As a bull of twenty seasonal cycles, you were picked out of everyone to be the next in the ranks of the hunters. ”

An icy numbness formed in my head as realization kicked in. I had a chance to be something in my home, I blew it, and I did nothing right and it were that dammed mare and my uncaring father and....

I said nothing. Bulls Strength just looked at me with mild disappointment.

“The Elder wished to see you, Watchful, regardless of your state. It's probably for advice, good advice at that. I suggest you listen to him. Goodbye, son.”

I looked away from the uncaring brute and looked at the prone, sleeping forms of the gathered hunters and guards. Only then did I realize that this was a party for me, in a dual manner. They could have drank for my newfound higher ranking, or as a last send-off into the deadly Wasteland. While most did not know everyone in the commune by name, it was tradition to know the fellow members in your rung of the social ladder. I gazed at every single sleeping form, trying to remember there faces or names. Brass Knuckle, Copper Pot, Steel Grip, Broken Blade, Pike Swinger, Jagged Spear....

Knowing I could do this all night, I stopped, and gave my father my best attempt at a look of general hatred. He gave a snort, and waved me off with one of his massive pitch-black arms in the general direction of the entrance. I turned, and walked out of the lodge as easily as I came in.

Then, I suppose,if I wanted to, I could cry.

The walk back to the commune, or rather the breakneck rush to the Elders barn, passed by quickly. Blueberry, the brat, was nowhere to be found, and good thing for her, as my horns were sharpened, after all, and I was only half-afraid with what I would do with them if I saw the little sneak.

Talking about every little crag of rock would be pointless, here, considering I could not even see where I was going. I was stumbling in the dark, led by the half-light of the camp.

It was probably a few good minutes until I arrived at the barn. My hooves were sore, and my legs had several shallow cuts and bruises where they had been caught in the rocks. No matter, really, considering the only things I could feel at the moment was fear and hate.

Fear for the future, and hate with anything that breathed.

Before I could knock on the wood-on-bronze door, it, to my mild shock, opened. The Elder stood at his full size, impassive as ever and giving me a neutral look. With a slight movement to the side, he let me pass into his domain. And so, I stepped into the light for the second time that day.

The Elder’s housing was much more than that, really. It also had half the things the commune needed to survive. A makeshift school was in one section, filled with pre-war texts, while other rooms filled with old-world technology filled its wooden frame. A stationary pink-yellow medical robot next to a few stained cots that formed the hospital, the power generator in the back, the sewing machine that did most of the work creating what little cloth that was needed, all maintained by the only one with any knowledge on how they worked. The Elder had gained some critics complaining that he had yet to train anyone else in there workings, but most knew that he had the best job security in the entire settlement and wanted to keep it that way for the long haul.

Neverless, the Elder began walking to the back end of the structure, and I followed suit, all the way to the only set of closed doors in the whole building. He pushed them open easily, and we both slowly walk inside into, I realized, the Elders personal office.

It was a let-down, honestly. Not like I expected gold-plated walls, or anything, just a light trimming of it. A a gem-studded gem mirror or somesuch. Hell, dragon skin would be nice, considering how much of it there would be there to go around when you got a dead dragon and a industrial tool.

It was mostly empty, with white walls and actual tile floors of a light cream color that I had to admit have aged well. His extremely well-cared for laser minigun was resting in a large, possibly climate-controlled glass dome on the right side of the room, while on the left half a dozen bookshelves contained pre-war writings and knick-knacks. His desk was at the far end of the room, a huge wooden block with a large bronze butterfly serving as a sort of identifier, and was covered with varying mechanical objects of metal and glass and crystal and light, with something that suspected to be a terminal off to the right side in arms-length. As if to greet visitors, the back was nearly wholly covered in a large, slightly faded poster depicting an interesting image.

The Elder saw the look on my face, and spoke for the first time since my arrival in the calming low rumble he was known for.

“I suppose you have many questions, young one?”

I was still on the verge of a breakdown, even after my rampage on my way to him, so I just carefully nodded. He just gave a slight smile.

“First and foremost, would you like some tea?”

I was tired, upset, and slightly sore all over, lost any hope of achieving any of my hopes or dreams, or any chance of seeing anyone I loved for the rest of my life, and I was now wondering what whisky tasted like.

“Yes, with milk please.”

The Elder just gave a knowing smile and, to my slight amazement, pushed a button on a squat machine on his desk, which caused a little door to open. With slightly trembling fingers, he handed me a mug of steaming scrub tea, with what looked like little clouds of milk floating around in it.

Apparently, he found the look on my face priceless.

“First rule of the wasteland is to not be surprised by the bounty of the past. For instance, that little box there is what I believe to be one of the last microwaves in a week’s travel from here not damaged by the balefire blasts in a manner that corrupted the fragile crystal lens that focused energy for it to work.”

I stared at the little box in awe, and took a small sip of the tea. It was the best thing I had ever drunk.

The Elder politely waited for me to finish drinking, and continued.

“What do you know about the world, Ever Watchful?”

The question took me by mild surprise. There was a war, bombs fell, and mostly everything died. What survived became stronger and tougher. Then, the survivors began to come out of there hiding places and found a changed world full of irradiation and taint.

“What I was told in school, sir. By you.”

He just gave me an impatient look, so I quickly followed up with details. “The zebras and the ponies fought each other for more than a decade, and griffons and dragons and other races fought for whatever side they saw fitting. Then the world ended.”

He looked pleased at my understanding, and said three little words.

“What about us?”

I...I had no idea. My face showed that.

His expression did not change.

“We, as a race, originated from the land of Fleece, but we left there centuries ago with our sheep comrades to avoid contact with the zebra’s of Roam, which had obliterated several other kingdoms near us. We traveled far, some south, some east, some west, but only the ones who went north survived. There, we traveled through lands such as the Tsardom of Unicornia and beyond until we found the great expanse of land that would later be known as Caladonia. We settled there, but our kind was split into two during the Great War. One side wished to remain true to our roots and practice the old ways of the city-states, while others listened to fools who preached in the name of Discord and wished to become, in there own words, ‘free’. They allied with the zebras, and even now would willingly kill every cow and calf in this commune without hesitation and enslave the bulls.”

I, while shocked, listened attentively.

The Elder gave a little hum, as if collecting his thoughts together.

“No minotaur fought in the Equestrian army, but one did fight in a different way. He was Iron Will, and he was the most important minotaur to ever live.”

He let that sink in, and I have to admit, it took a while. After a few seconds, however, he continued.

“Iron Will, first and foremost, was an exile from his own community, as he was deemed too meek to be a proper bull. He, along with his goatish companions, went out to learn self-respect and esteem. He traveled for several years, and eventually he succeeded so well that, when he was invited to a self-help seminar, a sort of place where those who felt they were weak came together to become stronger under guidance, and the organizer thought he was the one paid to be there. That was the day he learned he had achieved his goal: to be able to help others.”

I was mesmerized at the tale, and took a good drink of the tea. Delicious.

“He traveled across Equestria, where he quickly drew fame. After all, minotaur’s were very rare there, and none traveled around giving motivational speeches. While some called him ‘monster’ or ‘savage’, he just smiled and accepted it, for he knew ponies did not know better. And so, he gave speech’s and seminars, and only asked for pay when he knew he was successful. But then, something happened.”

He gave a half-glazed smile at the poster behind him.

“He met a pony who said that she never needed his help. That pony's name was Fluttershy, and she would later become a leader of the Equestrian wartime government. You see, Ever Watchful, there were six powers in Equestria at the time.”

I had no idea what he was going with this, but I liked it. Entertaining, anyway. Might be useful later.

“The first was Arcane Sciences, the second was Wartime Technology, the third was Moral, the fourth was Image, the fifth was Awesome, and, most importantly of all, there was Peace. Peace, rather than focusing on fighting the war, aimed to stop it. And so, a few years into the war, Fluttershy asked Iron Will if he would like a job.

He, after she admitted she learned something from him, came out of a depression and began his new task of uplifting her fellow ponies. He succeeded in his efforts, enough that he became well known enough that other’s wanted his assistance as well. Moral offered him a massive contract involving a small fortune for things he was already doing, Image groomed his public image as a near-saint, and Technology even used his personality as a base for several robots.”

I was enthralled. Surely this bull….

And then the fact that this was 200 years ago came to mind. So much for that train of thought.

“In essence, Iron Will lived a great and fulfilling life. However, he wished to save his people, in the off chance of the war going hot in the balefire sense. By asking around and pooling funds, he managed to appeal to the heads of the varying Ministries to, in turn, ask the heads of Stable Tech to make three Stables with at least a small amount of us within it. I do not know how he did this, but he did. I know this because I myself came from one of these Stables, and was trained as a engineer there.”

That was a shock, but perhaps not the biggest one today.Figures, really, that an stable dweller ends up leading a wasteland settlement.

“I myself came from Stable 125, which is quite a ways away, I am afraid. There was another further inside Equestria, number 111, which was cleared out by Steel Rangers by the time I found it. I do not know what happened to the minotaurs who lived in it. The other was Stable 109, which housed not only minotaur’s, but buffalo and cattle as well. Fittingly, it’s in Tauronto.”

I blinked. I knew that name. Most travelers coming down our trail have to be told that they have to go east, not farther north, in order to go to it. In fact, it’s probably the largest settled place in the region, and it was that exact reason the hunters avoided going east at all costs.

I looked at the Elders smile, and grinned slightly. I guessed there was a chance to restart, I supposed, going by his words.

“Sir, thank you for telling me this. I do appreciate the time you have taken for me, I am sorry that I failed.”

The old bull blinked, frowning lightly. "You wish to leave so soon? But you have yet to prepare the things you need to take with you!”

I saw his gaze turn to the varying parts of his workshop, and I nearly cried out in joy.

The haul was good. Really good.

I almost felt guilty, considering how much I was taking from him, but going from his grins he wanted to see it all in use. In all, I had another well-stocked medical kit (“Pry anything with a butterfly on it out of the ground if you have to” was the Elders advice on the matter.), a odd crown-like object he called a ‘recollector’, a backpack stuffed with pre-war ready made meals and some teabags, a steel machete, in better condition than my own, and a set of griffon-modal combat armor modified for minotaur usage, one of the few I knew to exist in the community.

I also decided to switch my trusty knife for a ripper he had in stock, because I always wanted a chainsaw and that would probably be the closest thing I would ever have to one and it’s a chainsaw knife oh Discord its everythingIeverwantedandsomuchmore!

However, I saw a little flaw. Rather, I had no idea how to shoot a gun, and from my observations, gun catalogs seemed to be what most ponies used in lew of Wingboner Magazine when the latter was not available. And I only know that because I might have looked at trader’s confiscated wares when I was young, and nothing to do with hormones or anything. Nope. Not that I found skinny, weird-looking things like ponies attractive.

The Elder just smiled a tiny smile in response to my question about the lack of actual firepower. “I know that, Ever Watchful. Thankfully for the both of us, there is another who is heading for Tauronto herself. I think you might know her.”

Herself. Oh, Discord, no! Not her! Anything but her!

As if to mock me, her voice came from within the room. Next to me.

Fuck tiny blue unicorns and their invisibility spells.

“Ex-Senior Scribe Blueberry Cream of the Fillydelphia Steel Rangers at your service!”

(Interlude ll) For Something Like Karma, See Chapter 28 Of The Original Story.

The true horror of the situation dawned on me when Blueberry stood up on her twisted legs and cracked her neck back in place, ignoring the distinct fact that she had lost what was probably most of her blood and was leaking from a new few holes.

And then her legs buckled, and she made a little squishing noise when she landed on the ground.

“Ow!”

I would have laughed, if it were not for the fact she was supposed to be dead and she landed in a puddle of her own blood.

I blinked. That was not the sound of a pony filled with murderous glee. That was the sound of a pony that had too many drinks.

Or, in this case, lost more blood than she could have possibly stored in her body.

I stared at the pathetic sight of a slightly disoriented Blueberry and had to suppress laughing, which was easy to do considering my brain also picked up she was in a puddle of her own blood, covered in nasty cuts and wounds, wearing a strange possibly dead-reviving artifact of doom, and that, for whatever reason, she had red eyes.

I wondered for a moment what happened to my sense of humor.

Leaning down, I help the woozy pony to her hind legs, wincing slightly when I realized her wounds were wet with new blood. I was glad there were a giant pool of water literally a few steps away from me.

Blueberry, on the other hand, looked like she was on several sorts of mind altering substances. I hoped it was from the lost of blood as opposed to brain damage, because I had no idea if Sea Salt chewed on her head or if the magical tiara would fix that sort of thing.

Then again, seeing that Blueberry was alive, somehow, I supposed that I did not have to worry about the magical tiara making her worse. Then again, on my increasing list of issues with the situation at hand, there was the actual issue of Sea Salt existing. And the fact Blueberry was somehow breathing.

Well, first things first.

I carefully prodded the grey gem set on her face. It did, to my mild surprise, nothing at all.

“What are you doing?”

I ignored the mentally compromised pony, and to my interest discovered that her wounds, which should be grey and bloodless, were bleeding.

“Heeey, Watchfff…”

Blueberry looks up and me, contorts her face into a miserable frown, as if she was trying to remember something.

“Watchful.” She said it like it held an entire conversation’s worth of information.

I ignored it and continued my crude little investigation on how the tiny blue pony was alive. So far, it seemed like she was connected to some unlimited supply of blood, and was intent on leaking every pint of it. Unsettlingly, her wounds were visibly closing, like she drank a diluted healing potion. It was all very strange, and it stunk of of weird magic.

“Why?”

I stopped prodding around a loose piece of scalp and backed off. I didn’t think I was hurting her, she seemed numb enough.

“Why what?” I said, drawing out my words.

“You’re…helping me. Why?”

That’s a stupid question, Blueberry. I am helping you because the alternative would be to be alone in a horrible place covered in your blood that smells like dead fish and copper.

But I did not say that.

“You are hurt.”

She frowned. What right did she have to frown? She was the one who was supposed to be dead and was still alive, somehow.

Really, I was surprised at myself for taking her little revival in stride.

“But….why? Other….other ponies would leave. I haven’t…given you much of a reason to help.” she nearly whined when I tried to wipe a smear of blood off her cheek.

I sighed at the shear helplessness in those words, and tried my best to make her feel better.

“You’re my friend, Blueberry.”

She blinked slowly, and her mouth formed a thin line of disapproval.

“What does that…matter? To you?”

I had no idea, really. A burden, possibly.

“It doesn’t matter, Blueberry, just-“

Her horn began to shimmer with red light, and she looked at me with unnatural orbs that resembled inverted suns.

“I don’t want to owe you any favors.”

It was my turn to blink.

“Blueberry, if I was counting favors, you would be serving me for a year.”

She stared at me blankly for a moment but eventually began to chuckle, despite the distinct lack of a joke. It sounded forced, like it was a sound not meant to be made in a ponies mouth.

“Blueberry, what is your problem?”

A half-hearted grin stretched across her face, and she just looked at me like she and I were in on the funniest joke in the world.

“Watchful, really…we are in the wasteland. I expect what’s coming for me. You have probably been waiting for this moment for days now. If you want, I can wait for you to grab that, what did she call it, a meche-something....that blade thing you have and you can just-”

She did not finish what she was going to say, because she was interrupted by my right hand slapping her across the face.

Sputtering in mild shock, she raised a hoof to the spot where I hit her. Despite all the cuts and marks on her body, even I could see the ugly bruise that was starting to form. Dark purple began to show under light blue coat.

“You…hit…”

I realize only then that I probably looked horrifying to her. Hunched over, matted over with blood and water, and the horns probably didn’t help. And I just hit her.

I was beginning to form an apology that would probably be inadequate, but to my mild surprise and somewhat disbelief, she closed her eyes and hanged her head low.

Staring for a few brief moments, I realized what she was doing.

I was furious, naturally.

“What are you doing?” I said, perhaps a little too forcefully at the possible suicidal mare with mental problems possibly induced by her little death-reversing tiara thing.

“I deserve it.” she mumbled.

“What was that?” I growled.

“Go ahead.”

I stood up and quickly stomped away from the suicidal mare who I was not sure if I hated or not and made my way to a less bloody corner of the room; so I was certain I would not go ahead with what Blueberry apparently wanted me to do.

It was increasingly tempting. First my sense of humor, next my morals.

After a few quiet moments, Blueberry carefully opened her eyes and looked at me with something akin to surprise.

“But…I thought you hated me?”

I clenched my fists, and tried not grinding my teeth to nubs.

“I loath you, Blueberry, but that does not mean I am going to beat you!”

She hung her head low enough to the ground it looked like she could have fallen over.

“But…”

I raised a hand.

“Blueberry, do you want to help me?”

A wave of conflicting emotions bubbled up under all the shame and self loathing, but she eventually nodded.

“Come over here.”

It was a simple statement, and for once, I was the one calling the shots on what she did. She trotted over on legs that were only slightly shaky, and eventually she was at arms length away from me.

I considered making her go over to the water and make her look at herself, but I quickly thought against it. It was a bad idea.

But then I had another that was probably just as bad, but did not have a chance of Blueberry freaking out.

“Blueberry, hold out your head.”

She showed a sickeningly small amount of hesitance in doing so.

“Do you feel anything?”

She shook her head, and closed her eyes. I noticed that, besides her wounds being practically non-existent, her tiara’s central gem was now a light pinkish color. Odd, but not the most important issue at the time.

With some amount of grace, I snatched the thing off her head.

Startled slightly, she fluttered her eyes open. Eyes that, to my surprise, were a perfectly normal bluish color.

I quickly put it back on.

Her eyes quickly returned to there unsettling white-on-red color scheme.

I took it off.

Back to normal.

Blueberry looked like she was torn between being annoyed or confused, but she settled for pure horror after she batted my hands away from her face and saw the blood covering the floor behind me,

"But..how..when...I knew that...I just left for a few minutes...Watchful..what did I..."

She didn't get much more out before she nearly flung herself at me and buried her head in my chest and sobbed.

In general.

I was unsure about what was the worst part, the emotions going through my head or the smell.

I settled for the smell. Fish-stink, blood, and pony tears was quite unpleasant, nearly as foul as a pony using oneself as a big tissue as it unelegantly blubbered into one's mostly clean fur.

I looked at her magical life-restoring tiara thing, having been tossed a few feet away from me by a flying pony, and gave it a glare.

I swear I saw the cursed pony princess on the thing wink at me it it's single ruby eye.

I hate ponies, unicorns in particular.

I'm Sorry, But Your POV Is In Another Chapter. Until Then, Ms. Cream Shall Suffice. Or Suffer. Same Difference.

I have no idea when I dozed off, but when I realized I was still tucked in the (admittedly very silky) sheets that covered the (very soft) bed with my head face burrowed into one of the many (perfectly sized and fluffed) pillows on it, I mumbled a curse and slowly got up, leaving the terribly inviting spot I left on the bed to go find out where Ever Watchful went.

The bed he was supposed to be sleeping in was empty and untouched, so that meant he was doing something else in the house or...well, that was it, wasn't it? I fell asleep before he came back upstairs, but admittedly, that wasn't long after I checked Candy Cane. I was tired, and still felt the aftereffects of that alleged breakfast, which was more of a breakfast-lunch-dinner combo that made my center of gravity shift a little after it hit me just how much I ate, so I went under quickly when I had the chance.

I rolled my eyes when I noticed that said missing minotaur's own bag was tipped over, it's contents spilling out of it. Then again, this peaked my interest, if only slightly. He wasn't a messy individual, so he must have either knocked it over accidentally or it simply fell over by itself. Going over to it, I felt a little sad when I noticed there wasn't anything in it that was his, really. There was a few more of those food bars left, a little motorized chainsaw-knife, along with a butterfly-marked medical kit that would have been really useful a day ago, but other than those few things there was nothing unique. Nothing personal.

Quickly shoving everything on the floor in the bag and putting it upright, resisting the urge to try and locate my necklace, I quickly went over in my head what I was doing here, a habit that was hard to break even now that I was in relative safety.

"I'm in a little house up north with three other ponies and Ever Watchful. One of the ponies is a filly named Candy Cane who knows me, while the other two ponies are a couple and are letting me stay here. I am going north to get a few ponies together to head to the Crystal Empire."

I took a few moments to realized that I did it again, rambling out my own thoughts without really thinking about it. I needed to stop doing that, it was going to get me in trouble eventually, or make somepony worry.

Unless Watchful already noticed it and had told me, and I forgot, but that would have been impossible, he kept on top of that and would have told me, right? Or what if that was the reason he was gone, because I was starting to be a burden for him? No, that couldn't be, his bags were still there and he didn't know what to expect in Tauronto even if he got there by himself-

I paused after a moment of realization, and felt myself go numb all over with horror.

I had been saying everything that was running through my head, and I was doing it loudly.Like a crazy mare.

Forcing myself not to tremble, I sat down on my haunches and looked at my hooves. They weren't pretty; they were chipped a little on the edges and the fur around them was discolored and dirty, but they were still there and they were mine, and most importantly of all they weren't stained red.

Suddenly, I felt pain around the base of my horn, too sudden and sharp to be just the start of a normal headache, and I made my way to the vanity mirror set in the mantelpiece at the end of the room.

I hadn't looked at myself in a long time, and I couldn't help but think that there was a reason for that, besides mirrors being short supply in the wastes.

Because, really, I looked like hell.

I was sure my fur was a lighter color of blue last time I looked at myself, and that my hair wasn't a big poofy mess that stuck out of the back of my head like it did now. It made me look like my head was three times as wide as it really was, and the purple stripes that rested on the sides of my head were lost in the frizzy mess. My eyes were framed with big ugly bags, like I had not gotten a good night's sleep in weeks, and even then my eyes were too watery and red-rimmed for me to say that I would have looked fine even if the purple frame around them were gone. My face was worse, my nose looking like I was dealing with a cold and my lips grey and bloodless.

I almost didn't want to, but I tilted my head and ran a hoof through my hair until I got to the slightly itchy, terribly sore spot that was on the right side of my head. Six inch-long raised scars were hidden by my hair, but they were still there, along with a matching set closer to the back of my head. They didn't hurt, really, but they still made me feel nausea considering what they implied.

Sea Salt, no matter what Ever Watchful might think, was an abomination. There wasn't another word for it, really. Abomination. Her face was too long and her eyes were too big, and, no matter what she might have been two hundred years ago, she was a pony eating monster with limbs that were all claws and webs and a body that was a sin against nature. She was a pony in the same way a alicorn was, and she presented most of the same dangers. I don't know what happened when I entered that shark tank, but whatever happened next resulted in me covered in my own blood, sporting bite marks on my head and a little scar on my back.

I didn't trust her. I didn't like the idea of her. I could care less what Watchful thought about her because I had no intentions of being 'friends' with her. There were plenty of mutant ponies out in the wastes that are hostile to other ponies, and normally they rightly were killed when they did so. But, apparently, Ever Watchful decided that sparing the local deamonic killer mutant seapony was a good thing. I felt a little dirty that the thing that apparently killed me (I didn't even want to think about what that implied) was swimming around nearby and my only friend in the world approved of it.

I didn't like that, but then again, there was many things I didn't like about my life right now.

Turning around in a little half-circle, I got as good as a vertical look at myself as I could with the mirror being where it was, and sighed a little.

As much as I hated to admit it, Watchful poking fun at my weight to get Candy Cane to stop eating hit a old sore spot in me. I didn't mind my physical appearance, really; it amazes me it took me as much time as it did when I was younger to figure out why colts kept following me with their eyes a few weeks after I got my cutie mark, or why sometimes stallions slowed down when I passed by.

Then again, that was years ago, and it's usually a toss up if somepony sees me as a soft target or not now, and I do wince a little when I see just how close my stomach is to touching the ground sometimes because of me having a small frame. It wasn't a big deal, but...

I shook my head, trotting away from the mirror before I started moping about how I looked. I had three ponies and a minotaur to find.

"I hate this place." I let myself mumble as I walked down the hallway to the room Candy Cane was in. It didn't...sit right with me, how it seemed like somepony did there best to ignore the existence of the wastelands outside and live like pre-war ponies. That wasn't an exaggeration; I could only imagine how much the sum of this place's parts would go in a market.

Opening the door at the end of the hall, I was greeted with a thankfully normal sight. Candy Cane was still asleep, so that meant that, going by the lighting, it was probably mid-afternoon, plenty of time to get things in order.

The room Candy Cane chose weirded me out a little when I first saw it, considering just how perfect it was. The walls were covered in brightly colored patterns, there were dozens of books of varying size and shape in a neat little bookshelf, and entire room had toys scattered all over the floor. I could only think that this was a room made just for a foal, which, considering the owners of the house, made me feel a little uncomfortable.

Regardless of what I thought, Candy Cane didn't seem to pick that up, and the little filly was sleeping peacefully in her bed, just like she was a day ago when I last checked up on her. I let myself smile a little when I noticed the little filly was curled around a big stuffed teddy ursa, one that was seemingly enchanted to have little fake stars blink in and out of it's fuzzy hide. Just one more thing that told me that these ponies were more to meet the eye; I could only guess how much something like the ursa would go for. Toys were expensive, magical ones even moreso and it seemed almost impossible for all the one's in this house to have been in it before the war.

Trotting over to the little filly, I felt a little amazed at just how tiny she was. Of course, I knew she was small, she was a foal after all, but it never actually struck me how little she was. I don't know just how much time I spent with her in the boat dock, or how much she told me about herself, but she seemed to like me like she saw me as a sort of parental figure.

I didn't like that at all.

Candy Cane was a innocent in the wasteland, that was a fact. I had no real desire to be seen as a authority figure, especially to one so impressionable, and I knew I wasn't good with foals anyway. I did not want her to be out and about with me and Watchful out in the wasteland, and I just wanted to drop her off at the nicest looking place that would take in lonely foals that didn't look like a slaving ring and leave her. That wasn't wrong, right? To admit you didn't want the responsibility of raising a foal? I didn't have the ability to teach her anything beyond mechanical engineering and reading, and she was already a smart cookie who knew how to read anyway. It didn't sit well with me, knowing that she probably thought Watchful and I would be something like to surrogate parents to her.

But, there was another option that was in the back of my head. As much as I didn't want to, I needed to discuss dropping the little filly here with ponies that lived well and peacefully. Nightcore was an obviously intelligent individual and Golden Dawn seemed to be the sort who would be too meek to object.

I couldn't think of a better pair of lesbians to drop off a probable orphan I barely knew.

"Er, hello." a very quiet voice said directly behind me.

Doing my best not to scream,resulting in a embarrassingly squeaky sound going past my lips, I turned around to see Golden Dawn clad in a large plain black robe with a light red shawl draped uselessly over it, seemingly a afterthought as to not look like she was about to go skulk in some graveyard or another.

"Hello, Dawn." I replied, trying to sound as amicable to the mare who either was quiet enough to walk pass me without me noticing, or, worse, was in the room the whole time.

The becloaked mare blinked at me, eyes fluttering like she was focusing on a far-off object and I wasn't it. "Sorry if I startled you, I was just checking up here, actually."

I didn't like her tone. It was was too unsure. "Do you know where Ever Watchful is, Dawn?"

She blinked once more, and shuffled her legs a bit to get a closer look at Candy Cane. "A old acquaintance of ours arrived late last night, and it seems that she and Ever Watchful both have business with Nightcore." she paused. "They are in the radio-tower right now."

The way she said it was probably supposed to sooth me, but it rubbed me the wrong way. "Who's this new pony and why would Watchful want to talk with Nightcore alone?"

I must have said it a bit harshly, because Golden Dawn shrank back slightly. "Her name is Umbra, and I would not think she would be any trouble to you. Ever Watchful had some personal questions about Tauronto, and Nightcore offered to help him. Please, there's no need to worry."

I might have been okay, even accepting of what was going on, if it was not for that last thing she said. "Worry? Why should I worry? It's not like you just appeared right behind me and told me that there's another pony here and that-"

I almost continued, but I realized that I was talking to a stranger, and I was being rude to the pony who, just yesterday, served me the best meal I had ever eaten. And so, with that in mind, all the little angry thoughts running around screaming in my head were smothered by the dawning comprehension that I was being stupid and mean.

"Are you okay, um, Blueberry Cream?" Dawn said slowly, looking a little taken aback by my sudden sulkiness. "You actually do not look very well. Do you feel ill?"

I sniffled. "I have a little horn-ache, actually, thank you. I look bad, don't I?"

Because of the fact her entire body was covered, I couldn't pick out any body language that might have helped me feel more relaxed around her. However, just by the way she closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, I would like to think she smiled at me.

"Oh, no, not really, just a little tired. Understandably, of course. Do you sleep well in new sleeping environments?"

I tried to keep myself smiling. I wasn't sure if she was just prone to flattery or if that was a honest lie, but she still managed to keep a even tone of voice even when saying something that wasn't true. I would like to think I am good at picking out lies, really. But Golden Dawn's combination of facial concealment and general uncertainty made it hard to do so.

There was also the pure weirdness of her speech patterns. Who calls a bedroom a 'sleeping environment'?

"I travel a lot, so I am used to sleeping in different places. The room wasn't the issue, and I don't feel sick, but thank you for your concern. I just have a bad headache and I woke up in the wrong place."

I really wished that I used a different metaphor, as Golden Dawn's eyes narrowed at me for a split second, the most obvious sign of being displeased she had shown to me in three days. "I see." she said curtly. "Perhaps you did."

Neither of us said anything else for a few very stressful moments, as she seemed intent on making me say something while I was too distracted about figuring out what to say.

"Ah, excuse me." she said after a while, sounding remarkably regretful. "That was rather out of order for me to say."

"No, please don't apologise. I really am sorry, I must seem like a terrible pony." I took a breath, more to seem calmer than I really was than anything else, "And thank you for feeling worried for me. This must be stressful for you, keeping company like us."

I paused for a moment to gauge her reaction. "I really am sorry, really."

She blinked slowly, but nodded. "Thank you, but you don't need to apologise. I am just doing my best to make you feel comfortable here. I understand that you just came in from Watershed, yes? It was attacked by raiders."

I didn't want to correct her, as I was simply happy that we had found equal footing in the conversation again. "Yes, it was. Candy Cane was living there. I was passing through with Watchful on our way to Tauronto, but we were awoken by the attack and took shelter in a nearby building. We found Candy Cane there, and the next day we went outside to see that the Purebreds were fighting a little civil war outside."

Golden Dawn looked surprised, well, at least her eyes widened a little. "Oh, goodness, that sounds frighting. Do you mind if we can continue this outside? I have some drinks out on the balcony if you like."

"Of course." I said. "Where is it? The balcony, I mean."

She gave a quick look at Candy Cane for a moment, probably seeing if the filly's sleep was disturbed at all by our conversation. Satisfied after a few moments of observation, she turned to the door. "It's on the third floor."

Shrugging carelessly, I motioned for her to lead the way, which she caught after a few tries.

The third floor of the house was far less kept than the rest of it, seemingly, it being more of a dignified attic. It was cluttered and ill-lit, but it made me feel a little less on edge than the rest of the house if only because it seemed less artificially preserved than the rest of it. The balcony was a interesting affair, wooden and hanging a little off the house itself, close enough to the river that I could hear it. Two black plastic chairs were in the middle of it, with a small table with a bucket full of ice in between them.

Taking the initiative to sit down in one of the chairs, I noticed that said ice bucket was graced with a gold foil-topped wine bottle.

"Oh, sorry if this seems odd." Golden Dawn said almost immediately as I looked at her drink of choice, "I actually had this out for Nightcore and I. The currant predicament at hoof is as much as a surprise to me as it is to you."

I thought about that for a few moments, letting myself get more comfortable. I needed to relax, I really did, and the air was nice and the river below was calm, and I supposed I could have used a drink a long time ago. "Okay," I said, "I get that."

She took great pains not to expose a single bit of her body as she slowly sat down on the chair, making the robe sway slightly past her hooves and her half-raised hood droop down a little. Purple eyes, hair a light hue of pink ,and fur white with the slightest blue tint to it. Attractive in it's own right, I supposed.

"Do you want me to uncap it, or are you hiding a horn somewhere on you?" I said, trying my best to sound light-hearted, which was hard for me to do.

Golden Dawn looked vaguely unhappy at what I said. "No, I cannot. Would you be so kind to do so?"

I was going to say something along the lines of 'Why are you being so formal?' but I thought against doing so and simply removed the gold foil and crumpled it into a neat ball, placing it on the table itself. The cork popped neatly and without much fuss, and after a few moments I had two hovering wine glasses filled with yellow-colored liquid.

"Thank you." she said quietly as she brought a hoof up to take one of the glasses from out of the air. I didn't respond immediately, too focused on the mare's impressive ability to balance the cup on one hoof without spilling it.

"No, thank you, really. You are the one who offered." I replied, letting my glass find it's way to the table, not sure if I wanted to drink before she did.

Dawn looked away from me for a moment, out at the view beyond the house. It was all dead trees and grey dead grass, with the iron-colored waters of the river accenting it's own sterility.

"Hm, I suppose. If you don't mind me asking, what is the story behind you two?"

I almost said something I would have regretted then, but I was smarter than that. "What do you mean, exactly?"

She shifted slightly around in the chair to face me fully. "Well, how did you and Ever Watchful become..."

I knew from the tone of her voice where she was heading with this, and I had to suppress a laugh. "Oh, we're not like that. There's nothing romantic between us at all."

The mare raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Really, he's quite sweet, really eager to please. He offered to help us with any physical labor we might need to be done later to make up for the time that the three of you are staying here."

I could see that, honestly. "I sometimes think he has to make up for everything he does, like he owes me something."

"How did you meet, then?" she said, a little bit of curiosity seeping into her voice.

I thought for a moment on how to phrase properly. "I was coming up here from the middle of nowhere, came around to his village, and he and I ended up leaving it at the same time. We pretty much traveled for mutual protection at first, but I think we've warmed to each other since then."

She shrugged lightly. "I see. He told a more in-depth story, actually. What were you doing before you decided to come up to Tauronto?"

I bit my lip and eyed my wineglass. She caught me telling a half-truth. "To be honest, not much. Inner Equestria is boring. Nothing much to see or do besides visit no-name towns."

She sighed agreeably and, after turning to the right slightly, took a sip of her wine. I really wished I could tell what she was doing, but when she turned around her glass was visibly depleted and the little red scarf around her mouth seemed dry.

"What about you and Nightcore?"

The robed mare raised a hoof to her mouth and giggled. "You really wish to know? It's a silly, sentimental story." she paused, and then her tone became more apologetic. "Ah, perhaps it is right for me to do so, seeing that I have already asked you to tell your own."

I, mostly for show, took a sip of the wine, which I regretted almost immediately. I only had wine once or twice before, and it was all red, but this tasted mostly of alcohol with a vinegary undertone. It was horrid. It made my head ache.

"Before I met her, I lived in a small village that sat in a sea-cove." she said, seemingly not noticing my despair over the taste of the drink."I suppose one could say it was insular, but that really is not the right word for it. There was about thirty ponies living in it in all, and they were united under one thing, really."

I decided to pose the question. "What?"

"My mother." she said.

I blinked. Several times. "Okay, then. Why did they unite under your mother? I'v been to the coasts, they tend to either have big ports or tiny fishing villages. I would guess you grew up in the latter?"

She nodded. "Yes, indeed. My father, now, he was a member of a group of several Equestrian settlements that attempted to form a united banner. He was sent as a diplomat of sorts to try and get on good terms with my mother. Not directly, of course, he was simply sent to negotiate with the village's leader. He had no idea it was my mother, of course." she narrowed her eyes for a split second before her look brightened up. "You asked why they gathered around her, did you not? They saw her as a wise leader, a bringer of peace." She took a moment, and I think I heard the amusement in her voice. "They were also superstitious tribal fisherponies who saw her as a deity of sorts."

I wish I had bothered to pretend that I enjoyed the wine by suffering through another sip, if only so I had something to spit out. "Really? They saw your mother as the... a goddess?"

I wasn't sure just what I was surprised at the most: me having yet to accomplish anything I wanted to do today or the fact I had the sinking feeling that everything she was saying was true.

"No, that's not the right word for it either. 'Goddess' would imply something like how one would see Celestia or Luna. No, they saw her as a creature beyond them who was there to offer them wisdom and guidance. A very earthly deity. Much easier to grasp and understand." she paused, turned to drink her wine, and looked back at me like she had said or done nothing unusual. "I do not remember my father very well, actually. He died in a accident, a genuine one involving the nets one uses to bring in fish. His mourning is actually one of the few clear memories I have of him, actually. I was eight at the time."

I said nothing, not wishing to bring up any bad memories.

"Now, when I lived there," she made a sound like a sigh, but it was more of a full-body exhale than anything else. Her shoulders slunk down. Her stance on the chair slackened. Her legs started to quiver slightly."I was very lucky. I knew how to read and write, a rare gift in my home that my father passed to me before he died. I never had to work the fishing boats or hunt because of me taking after my mother. Life was very good. I could do whatever I wished." she gave me a wristful look. "I was a smart, inteligant young mare who was treated like a princess by a slew of loyal savages who obeyed my every command. I also had a few romance novels. I was imaginative."

That made me giggle, if only at the sheer absurdity of the restrained mare before me being some sort of seaside sex addict.

"I didn't do much besides indulge my every whim for some time, really. One day, however Nightcore and her uncle visited my village. Her uncle, he...wasn't a very kind stallion. He killed my mother."

That was a brutal turn of mood, but I said nothing. Her voice had a soothing quality, I had to admit. It helped ease my headache a little.

"Nightcore saw me before he did, and I was too frightened to say anything. It was a long time since I had seen a pony I did not know extensively, you understand, and I was a scared filly. But Nightcore is a year my junior, and she was just as frightened as I was, probably moreso. We didn't talk the first day we met,our first meeting was...brief, but she enjoyed talking to another mare besides her two adopted siblings."

I didn't feel the need to press about Nightcore's relatives, so I just nodded.

"It was very hard for me to leave my home, but Nightcore made me feel safe. I had...I will admit that sometimes, I felt like I was a curiosity to her, as what seems to be divine to one pony seems to be odd to another, but in the end we said that we loved each other and admitted it. That's it, really. Eventually, we split off from the main group, per say, and we spent a year or two in Manehatten before finding this old house."

I couldn't help but smile a little. She sounded less reserved than she did just moments ago. "What's her story?"

She shuffled around a little. "She's of the sort who would tell you that gladly. She likes the idea that ponies know her from the radio." Dawn looked at the wineglass in her hoof, but didn't take a drink. "She lived with her mother, once. She died a long time ago, however, and her uncle took her in. As I have said before, he wasn't a very nice stallion. Cruel, really. But he knew magic, powerful magic. There was a time where the two of them separated, a very long time, comparatively speaking, and he got restless in wishing to teach others magic. That's why he adopted others along with Nightcore, to teach. I think they are all big names in the wastes now."

I decided to ask a raise a few questions, mostly because I was starting to feel comfortable. "Did she ever live in Tenpony Tower? She looks..."

"Clean? Not touched by the wastes?" Dawn prompted.

I nodded.

"She came from a place that doesn't exist anymore. Her uncle did too, but I guess he was glad to see it go." she shrugged. "It was better than Tenpony. It was far better then Tenpony. Sometimes Nightcore cries about it, and it's one of the few things I cannot truly understand. Perhaps I cannot comprehend it. You surely could not."

I stared at her intently, hoping that she would say more, ignoring the insult she said like it was a fact.

"I am not telling you anything else about it. It's a sore topic for her, rightly so. If you think you could get it out of her, go ahead and try." she said, a acrid undertone beginning to creep into her voice.

I expected her to pause and apologise for how she said what she said.

She didn't.

"Your cooking is the best I have ever had." I suddenly said, blurted really, words coming out of my mouth half-formed.

All the firmness, all the hostility in her posture and voice vanished in seconds. "Oh, really? That's very nice of you to say that. Really, it's very kind. Anything you especially enjoyed?"

"Well, the seaweed was very good. Actually, it reminded me of salted pork. Was it supposed to mimic it, or is it a happy chance that it tastes the way it does?"

"We don't eat meat in this house." she said slowly, "Nightcore cannot stand it. It's supposed to be like...bacon, yes."

"It does it's job well, I have to say. Actually, on that note, I have a question about Candy Cane."

I couldn't say more, because Dawn cleared her throat. "No, we have no interest in raising a foal. Thank you for thinking about it anyway."

The kindly way she said it contrasted with the simple, bold truth in her words, which made me feel a little uncomfortable.

"Sorry about, well, playing on the stereotype." I said, feeling my face flush red. I downed a bit of wine for show.

"No offence taken. Really, Candy Cane is quite a adorable foal, but I have no will for a foal and Nightcore would want it to be a unicorn anyway." she said mildly.

I raised a eyebrow at the implications of what she just said. "Really?"

"Well, yes. I would think it to be the most practical option, anyway. Goddesses, Nightcore wouldn't want a stallion in our lives, and if we did choose to have a 'natural child' as they call it, I would turn it down because I would worry about the implications of raising a foal who cannot go outside completely clothed, and Nightcore would turn it down if only because she has no wish to become pregnant. There is always adoption, of course, but the both of us would not want to place our own emotional baggage on some poor foal who saw their parent's die in a fire or somesuch."

She paused, to talk a sip of her wine.

" And there's always the need for the ability to connect with the foal, such things need to happen early. And Nightcore would wish for a unicorn, if only because she believes she has a duty to spread her own knowledge."

I wanted to talk about the house, or the radio tower, or something else, but it seemed that the day was only going to get shorter and that Golden Dawn was getting visibly displeased, for whatever reason, and so I vocalized the single question that, for the sake of my sanity, needed to get answered.

"What does a 'divine look' look like?"

As a whole, I felt alienated by her because of her clothing and her off-way of speaking. She was slightly off as a whole, really. She seemed nice, and she probably was, but for whatever reason I couldn't help but think that I wasn't sitting next to a pony.

"I am not sure what you mean. Are you talking about why I wear this? It is for your own benefit, I assure you."

"Please, I just want to know." I said, pleadingly.

"You will not expect what you see." she said gravely, rearing up slightly.

"I will not tell Nightcore." I said, trying to thing of something that could appease here, "Or anyone else!"

I couldn't see her mouth, but I would guess she was frowning. "Are you sure? I will take your word for it, but...you are a nice mare, and I have no wish to scare you off."

I shook my head. "I don't think it could be that bad, right? I mean, you have ponies that love you, right?"

Golden Dawn was clearly caught off guard, but she seemed clearly more accepting of the idea after giving that a few moments of thought.

"I suggest you go to the radio tower after I show you this." she said reluctantly, as if she was making a plan in her head,"Is that reasonable?"

I nodded. "Of course."

"Fine then."she breathed, "if you must."

She started to pull the sleeve up on her right arm with her spare hoof slowly, and up to around the small of said limb, it seemed normal. At the small of her arm, however, there was what seemed to be what almost seemed to be a raised lump in the middle of it, which made me wonder what exactly what I was looking at until it fluttered open and blinked at me.

I stared at the third eye for a while, until I noticed three other, smaller ones above it open above it, like a row of bright purple pool-balls.

"Okay." I said after downing the rest of the alleged wine that was in my glass, "I have to admit, you got me there. I guess you don't want me to see your face?"

"No," she confirmed, "I don't. Perhaps at a later date. Go to the radio tower. They are waiting for you."

I looked at the mare with ghost-white fur and the salmon-pink hair, then at her exposed leg-eyes, and then at the view above. Normally, I would have like to stay and think about what I just learned or saw, but at this point eye-legs are out of my league. Leg-eyes are on the same level on the wacky wasteland meter as seaponies and ghosts and that one pony with the two torsos.

As such, I trotted slowly out the door, down the stairs, down the other set of stairs, and then simply walked outside.

I wanted to think about what fantastical, nonsense things I just heard and saw. I really did. But the whole way I walked to the radio tower, I couldn't. My horn-ache was acting up, this time worse than before.

The radio tower was a relic of pre-war power. The radio tower also looked like it was like to fall down any moment. It creaked with the wind. If it was the sum of it's parts, it was still worthless.

As such, I was almost happy to see that the building that seemed to be called the 'radio tower' was actually a small square building directly next to it, seemingly connected to the main structure with a mess of wires I didn't have the time or will to observe more intently.

The door was unlocked, thankfully, my headache was starting to get to the point where I was seeing little red blotches behind my eyes when I blinked, and it felt like somepony took a jackhammer and started to chip away at my skull.

The room was mostly wood, with little color.That was a good thing, because if it did, that would just make my head hurt worse.

"Blueberry?" something large said, almost right in front of me, and it sounded worried, "Are you okay?"

I looked up. And up some more. I kept seeing black fur, until I craned my neck all the way until I saw the long, tree-limb arms and the ivory spread of horns that identified the individual in front of me as Ever Watchful. Two little pinpricks of grey that I knew to be his eyes were bearing down on me.

"Hey, Watchful. How's it going?" I said, not liking how hard it was to suddenly form words. I wasn't drunk, or even tipsy. One glass of wine couldn't make me tipsy.

"Oh, fuckity fuck me! Look at her, there is no way she is okay! There are ghouls wandering around that look better than that, don't be a foal!" somepony yelled in a shrill, feminine voice, one that might have sounded smoother if it wasn't for the fact that the sound of her voice made my head hurt. The worse thing was, it sounded like it was coming right above me and all around me at the same time.

"Enough Umbra!" somepony else roared from across the room, somepony who sounded like I should have known her, "This is not something you should be concerned with! Go check on the filly!"

I didn't know what was going on, my horn-ache was just worse, but I felt something leathery touch the small of my back and I just felt my legs go out from under me, like it happened to be the button one pushed to make a pony's legs stop working.

"Hey, what's go'in on, Watchful?" I said with a smile, in a attempt to make my head stop feeling like less of a scrambled mess.

"Blueberry, I need you to close your eyes right now, and think of something really happy, okay?" he replied, sounding far too scared to for his voice to be calm."A really nice place, okay? Just clear your head of everything else."

"You've seen her like this before? This isn't good." said the other voice, the one I was pretty sure was Nightcore.

"No, she's never been like this. It has to be the Amulet, then." Watchful said tiredly.

I almost said something, but my head suddenly became a big ball of painful, molten-needle-point-redness, and I couldn't really say anything because I wasn't sure if I could even feel my mouth. I guess I felt like I was drunk, but instead of a general fuzzy feeling I felt like I was going to boil out of my skin in any second.

"Did you say...Amulet?" I mumbled, the word sounding like I should have known what it meant.

"Blueberry, I really am sorry for this, but I will make it up to you after you wake up, okay?" the big burly minotaur in front of me said, sounding too tired to be angry or sad or anything, really, besides resigned.

"It's okay, Watchful. I trust you, you know that? Your like, my only friend. ever, and you keep a close eye over me. That's your name, too. Ever Watchful. Hee. I bet if you were a pony, my face would be your cutie mark."

Nightcore made some sort of gagging sound in the back of her throat. It sounded like a word, but I wasn't sure which one.

"Blueberry, it's okay. I need you to close your eye's for real." he said patiently, without much emotion. "Please."

I looked around the room quickly, and I spotted Nightcore off in the back of it, looking at me like I was being weird or something, mouth curled up into something like a scowl. Or snarl. Either or.

I didn't say anything, so I just turned back to look at Ever Watchful, but then I noticed another figure in the room, thinner than him but with almost the same weird biped build. It's face was almost like a pony's, actually, but it had a curled goat horn that extended from the right side of it's head, so it wasn't a pony or a minotaur. Seeing that it was probably a fever-induced hallucination, I smiled at it broadly.

"Hey," I said slower than I intended, "are you a goddess too?"

I couldn't make out the rest of it's body, it being a little hazy, but I did see the little whipcord-thin figure's jaw drop and it's left eye twitch exaggeratedly.

I was in the middle of looking up at Ever Watchful when I felt a bunch of long and thin things come down at me and wrap around my neck. It wasn't really unpleasant, just unexpected, but when I was in the middle of saying something I felt something disconnect from my body, and while I did feel a very sharp pain in my head and shoulders before I blacked out, I was happy to feel that the deep throbbing pain in my head was gone.