Lady of the Night

Chapters

The Beginning
Dreams and Other Matters
What a Fabulous Day

The Beginning

Applejack woke up early as usual, just as the sun peaked over the distant mountains. There was always work to do around the farm, so late risers rarely made it in this line of work. The young woman had been doing this for many years, and her internal clock was set to wake at dawn. She stood up groggily, regretting the good amount of hard cider she and her brother, Big Macintosh, had hit into the night before with their cousin Braeburn. That little twit was always into pushing for “just one more drink,” and she could never resist the urge to one up him.

The cute blonde stood up with an audible groan, and proceeded to bang her head on the wall. This only caused her to groan louder. She wasn’t particularly used to these hangovers, so she was lost in how to deal with them. Braeburn had always been somewhat of an alcoholic, but he only visited a couple times a year, and that meant that Applejack was left to suffer from her inexperience.

She proceeded to strip out of her night clothes, and search her closet for any good work clothes that were at least sort of clean. Applejack sighed. After so many times of working in the orchards, she had grown less and less concerned about her laundry until she had grown disgusted with herself. The least pungent clothes she could find had been worn three days in a row, and still wreaked of sweat and hard labor.

As the young woman started to pull her plaid shirt over her head, she took a look in the mirror. It was still remarkable to her how much contrast there was between her body and her hands. While those little hands were calloused from endless hours of picking and manual labor, her body had remained surprisingly well kept and in shape from all of the time spent working. She slipped the shirt on, hopped into some pants, thankfully clean, and left the room.

As Applejack strode down the stairs, she began to really hate her cousin. “I don’t know why in tarnation tha’ man always wants ta drink! It ain’t like we gots ta have it every single tahm!” Applejack ranted to herself. She knew that she didn’t really mean it; she was just in a sour mood from being hung-over. She sighed, and continued preparing for the long day ahead. The young woman knew that they only had so long before it was time to take all of those apples out to market, and that only left so much time for breakfast.

Applejack decided that flapjacks would be a good first meal for that day, so her capable hands began their task. Besides, even she got tired of apples at times. The pretty blonde shuddered at the thought. Apple fritters, apple tarts, apple pie, even apple burritos, for Celestia’s sake! How anyone could live off of these things, she would never know. That’s just too much apple anything for one lifetime. She was suddenly broken from her train of thought by the pungent scent of burning pancakes.

“Damn it!” she cursed to herself when she noticed that her flapjacks had turned a shriveled black rather than the golden-brown she was looking for. Applejack knew she had been distracted of late, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. After all, what had she ever experienced that would distract her from the job she loved most in the world?

“Ah’m I just bein’ childish?” she wondered to herself as she scraped the filthy pan clean of the nasty debris. “Maybe ah’m just not thinkin’ things through right.” The young woman got back to work making pancakes, hoping that she wouldn’t botch it this time. Applejack knew that this day would be even longer than usual, since the harvest was over and it was now time to sell all of those apples in the market. She sighed, wishing for once that there was something more adventurous to do. The monotony of working their farm was beginning to annoy her to no end.

After about half an hour, she had finished preparing a decent breakfast, and called out a distinct “soups on!” before setting the table. Applejack knew that it would take them several minutes to drag themselves out of bed, and she enjoyed be the first ready to work every day. As expected, the Apple family finally showed their faces as they walked up to the table in their night clothes. She saw Braeburn enter last, and gave him a level gaze with her gentle, yet firm green eyes.

“It’s about tahm ya’ll showed up! We got work ta do today, an’ waitin’ around for some extra shut-eye never made anyone successful.” She smiled as she walked over to the table and dished out their little meal. Applejack was in the habit of making a small breakfast, figuring that too much would slow them down. She was right, of course, but that never stopped them from complaining about it.

“Aww, cum’on sis!” Applebloom whined. The little red haired child hadn’t had any cider to drink last night, but that didn’t stop her from begging for some shut-eye. “Can’t we just wait like another hour, rather than gettin’ up so dang early?!”

“Mind your manners, Applebloom,” Granny Smith, the old matriarch of the household, said to her. “It’s not polite to complain to people who are helping you out, and you should learn to mind yer elders.” The old lady was like some sort of cross between gentle old prune, and ferocious wild dragon. Her gray hair streamed down the sides of her wrinkled old face, but this never stopped her from being as energetic as most at twenty.

“Eeyup. T’aint right ta go aroun’ and jeer ta people who know how ta take care of you.” Big Macintosh, or Mac for short, was a behemoth of a man. Rumor was that he had been given some sort of weird voodoo potion from the witch doctor in the Everfree forest while he was still a boy. Despite his bulk and deep voice, and all the stories floating about, the man was actually very gentle. He had helped Applejack and Granny Smith cope with the loss of his parents, and even helped raise the then infant Applebloom. He and Applejack had become much closer as siblings after having to take shifts with their grandmother to watch over the baby.

After a while, the family finished their little meal, and moved onto their tasks for the day. Applejack knew that Braeburn was lazy, and didn’t really need the extra hand anyways, so she decided to go to market with Big Mac instead. As Mac shoved his gargantuan feet into his sturdy leather boots, Applejack could hardly resist laughing. He was such a big teddy bear, and it had taken years for this to dawn on her since her older brother was always a quiet one.

As they started pushing the wagon full of apples towards the town Ponyville, Applejack laughed to herself. It was ironic how little you could know of a community that resided only four miles from your home. Why they would even bother naming a town something weird like that, she would never even begin to understand, even if the founders were there to tell her. She knew her family had something to do with it, but even Granny Smith couldn’t remember since she was younger than Applebloom when it was first created.

The miles seemed to pass by slowly as the two siblings plodded along. Big Mac was able to push the cart as if it were made of feathers rather than solid oak and laden with apples. It had always surprised Applejack that he was so strong. There was something unsettling about being near someone with strength enough to tear you in half, even if he was your brother. Their similarities were astounding, both being blonde haired, green eyed farmers with a determined disposition, and yet this never caused anyone to mistake them for twins. He was just too damn large.

“Yer considerin’ findin’ a husband soon, aren’t ya?” Big Mac stated, gazing down at his little sister with a look of amusement. “I think tha’s why yur so distracted lately. Just be sure not to pick someone like Braeburn. Men like him are kinda’ stupid and reckless.”

Applejack was not in the least bit surprised that this would come up with Macintosh. Sure, he was concerned for his little sister, and yet he didn’t have a wife yet, so what did he know? “Ah just got ta get mah act together first,” she replied. “Ah think that you should find yurs first, Mac. Then you can give me all the advice yur wantin’ too.”

Macintosh laughed, his voice booming in the deepest bass. “Ah think Ah’ll have ta move outta here first. There aren’t enough women that I would like ta marry, at least, that are single.” The way Mac said it screamed “SHY!” a million miles away.

“Aw, you’re too hard on yurself, Mac! Maybe you could talk to Applebloom. She said that her school teacher is single, and only a couple years younger than you! She would be perfect!” Applejack knew that he probably wouldn’t see someone that taught students as a good match. It’s not that he was stupid, just uneducated. He had had to drop his schooling back when their parents died just to run the farm, and he was always sad when anyone talked about the meaning of education. Someone with his brains could’ve gone to college, maybe even learned the arcane arts in Canterlot. But life isn’t always generous, and you have to roll with the punches just to get by.

“She is kinda cute,” Big Mac said, blushing. Applejack was actually shocked to find her older brother feeling warm and fuzzy just from talking about a woman, albeit a school teacher. This was great news, as far as she was concerned. It was about time that he found someone to start a family with, and Applejack would really enjoy some nieces and nephews to add to her immediate family.

“Well, then ask her on a date, dummy!” Applejack laughed. She knew he would probably take a while, but she knew that he would come around. As long as his choice wasn’t someone she would simply despise, she was happy to gain a sister-in-law. That meant that she wouldn’t be stuck waiting for her older brother to get hitched before she did. How bad could that possibly be?

The sales that day had gone surprisingly well, despite the competition with the Carrot family. Well, who really likes carrots anyway? Once Applejack and Big Mac had closed down the stand, it was time to push the now unburdened cart the long way back to Sweet Apple Acres. As far as Applejack was concerned, this was just the first out of many days to come. It always seemed to be better when it was harvest season, not right afterwards when sales became important. She sighed.

“Wha’ is it, sis?” Big Mac asked.

“Oh, nothin’ really. I just wanna’ get a chance ta see somethin’ other than the same orchard all mah life. Ah mean, while ah love ta go pickin’ them apples, it gets old once you done that a million times without a pause, jest a breather. Ah don’t even remember Ponyville that well, other than for the sales. I jest wanna meet some people, ya know, in a way other than business.” Applejack was somewhat ashamed of herself, and began to regret voicing it to her brother.

“Ah feel the same way too, sometimes,” Big Mac replied. He seemed to be staring longingly off into the sunset, as if wishing he could go that way. “Ah know what’s around the farm, and what’s in the town. Ah just don’t know what’s out there. It’s like some kinda’ strange drive, a need to see things, jest once, before ah die. Ah’m not afraid ta die, ah jest don’t want to until I at least know what ah’m dyin’ for.”

Applejack was more than a little surprised to find her brother speaking this way. She had always admired his tenacity, and the simple ways that he seemed to think. And yet, here he was thinking what she was with far more clarity than she thought she could. She knew he wasn’t dumb, but this goes beyond “not dumb”. He was just plain smart.

After what seemed like an interminable time trying to get to their home, they finally crested the last hill, and the giant red barn came into view. Applejack was more than pleased to look at it. She was home, and they now had a chance to rest for the evening. All concerns and worries departed as they hurriedly pushed the cart into the barn, and turned back towards their home. They rushed towards it, enjoying the serenity it offered.

The first thing they noticed about it that was wrong was the fact that there were no lights on. Why Granny hadn’t lit one this late in the afternoon was truly perplexing to them. The second thing they noticed was that the door was not only ajar, but rent from the top hinge. When Applejack noticed this, she bolted towards the front door, trying desperately to rush inward. She had almost made it inside when her brother caught her, and forced her to the ground. She was about to give an indignant sound when he put his hand over her mouth.

“They may still be here,” he whispered. “Stay outside until ah give the all clear. Understood?” She nodded slowly, once she had time for the panic to subside. Mac removed his hand from her mouth, and turned towards the entrance. He gave his little sister one last look, followed by a quick motion of silence, then proceeded to enter the house.

Applejack knew that it was only minutes, but those minutes spent waiting for her brother to return were the longest she had ever known. The worry for her family, even Braeburn, gnawed at her very soul. And now Macintosh was running the risk of meeting whatever harm could have befallen them. Just when she was just about to stand up and rush in, despite Mac’s directions, he exited the building.

“Come with me,” he said quietly, a look of not trepidation, but sorrow crossing his face. They entered the house slowly, but not too much so, since there was no immediate danger. The relief this gave Applejack only lasted for a moment before she saw what had happened. For the second time that day, Big Mac had to put his massive hand over her mouth before she could scream.

Blood was smeared on the walls in the living room, and Granny’s mangled body was perfect evidence of its source. The smell of gore, mixed with released urine and shit, made the room smell somehow vile and putrid. A glance around the room let Applejack spot Braeburn, who was still breathing, if in a sort of ragged form. He was sitting upright in the room's recliner, holding his bloody hands to his stomach.

Applejack rushed over to his side, and noticed quickly that there were several places where he had been slashed. Even in the poor lighting, she noticed that his hands weren’t just bloody, but had long loops and coils hanging through them. Upon the realization of what these were, she turned and vomited all over the floor. Not that it really mattered, considering what else was already there.

Braeburn looked up from his bloody fingers with a face matted with gore. “I’m… sorry. They came…too…fast. Those little bastards didn’t know that Granny and I were here, so they only…killed her. And…me. They will kill her too, on their own terms. Don’t let…them kill her.”

Braeburn started to fade out while the siblings stared at him in shock. Big Mac was the first to shake it off, and proceeded to shake Braeburn back out of his stupor.

“Who?! WHERE?!!! Tell me!” He was determined to find out, and it was obvious to Applejack what he was dreading. She was shitting herself over the same thing.

“Applebloom…it was the Silent Ones, I swear it!” There was a gurgle coming from Braeburn as his internal fluids started to be released in his death throws. Big Mac looked like he had more questions, but the fact that Braeburn was now staring aimlessly at nothing meant that there would be no answers.

Applejack simply broke down into tears. She didn’t know what to do, and there was certainly no way that she could bring them back. The young woman felt like her heart was shattered into little pieces, with nothing left to live for. She was simply distraught, and had come to forget practically everything but her sorrow.

This, however, didn’t stop Macintosh from paying attention to the situation at hand. He knew that they couldn’t bring their grandmother back, or Braeburn. But that didn’t preclude the chance that they could save Applebloom. It would be a very hard task to fulfill, especially since they didn’t have any way of identifying the killers. But even the longest journey started with one foot well placed in front of the other. He looked over at his hysterical sister, a sister he still had, and one that desperately needed him.

“Listen, Applejack, they haven’t killed our sister yet, and we ain’t gonna let em. We can find these sorry bastards, and blow them all ta hell. But we gots ta keep our heads on straight. If we panic now, Applebloom ain’t gonna have a prayer. So buck up and let’s get down to business. There will be tahm for mournin’ later, but this ain’t that tahm.” He spoke with a voice that was held fervently and unwavering. Applejack looked up into her brother’s eyes, those green eyes so similar and yet different to hers. Eyes that were just as filled with tears, eyes that shared her pain even if his voice hid it well.

“But what do we do? We don’t even know who did this.” Applejack asked. “Where would we even start?” The look on her face blazed with obvious fear and confusion. Macintosh’s, however, did not.

“We start by going to Canterlot. Surely Celestia would know what to do! Besides, we have one lead. The Silent Ones. It ain’t much to go off of, but it’s a start. We can move on from there. Well, we should bury the bodies first. No point in leaving them to just rot there. Then we can get moving. Time is of the essence.”

Applejack was too shocked from what had just transpired to even consider the changes in her brother that would otherwise stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone acts differently in a situation, and some are just born to lead. The siblings got to work, moving the bodies into the orchard’s family graveyard. As Applejack saw Macintosh retrieve a nearby shovel, she knew that there was a long night ahead of them.

Applebloom woke up with a very serious headache. It was dark all around her, and she felt as if she were in some sort of tomb. The room was rather warm, and she heard breathing coming from around her. With a look of shock on her hidden face, she tried to take stock of what had happened. She remembered waking up that morning, or she thought it was that morning, to the sound of her sister making flapjacks. After that, everything became sort of a blur.

She placed a hand against the back of her head, and pulled it back with a sudden jolt of pain. Given the matted blood and lack of memory, even she knew she had been struck. But by whom? As time passed, her recent memories began to return. She remembered playing in the fields, and spending time with their dog. She still remembered seeing a pair of hooded men walking towards their farm, dark and foreboding.

But what she remembered most of all was what happened when they calmly strode into their home. She could still here the thud of the musket ball striking her grandmother in the guts, and the sound of both her head and body landing on the floor at different times after the old lady was finished with a saber swing. She could still see Braeburn desperately throwing everything he had at them, continuing to fight even after mortally wounded. Yes, he stood his ground, even when his intestines were hanging out after a well-placed sword stroke.

The only thing keeping her from crying was the dire threat of the situation. They had obviously knocked her unconscious when they found her, and she was just as obviously not the only one, considering who else was there. Applebloom decided to see what she could do to get free, only to find that her hands were bound tightly at the wrists, and her feet at the ankles. She sighed in exasperation.

“Are you awake?” a timid voice nearby asked. The sound was sweet, almost like the ringing of a bell.

“I am now. Where are we?” Applebloom responded. She had a sneaking suspicion that the nearby voice was just as ignorant as she was. Of course, she was right.

“How should I know? I went to sleep last night, and woke up here ages ago! I wonder why we’re here, anyway. Oh, how rude of me. My name is Sweetie Belle. And you are?”

“Applebloom. Pleased ta make your acquaintance!”

“Well, Applebloom, now that we’ve met, let’s get down to business. I don’t want to rot in this little hole, and you don’t want to die either, so let’s figure a way to get ourselves out of here!”

“Ah have to agree. This ain’t gonna be pretty if we stay for too long.” She wondered what kind of person this “Sweetie Belle” really was. There was no way of knowing if you couldn’t read a face, and they weren’t in any situation for idle chat.

“Ugh, what happened? Oh Celestia!! Rainbow, are you there?!” a nearby voice piped. Given the situation, it was interesting to hear the other person wake up. By the sounds coming from where Applebloom had just heard snoring, she supposed that they were the only ones in the room. Despite all her best guesses, she still didn’t know what was going on.

“Well, while we’re at it, what’s your name?” Sweetie Belle asked. Just from the sound of it, Applebloom could guess that there was something almost like forced courage coming from that tender little voice.

“Ugh…Um, Scootaloo? Glad to meet you, I guess.” Scootaloo replied, with almost as much trepidation as Sweetie Belle was obviously hiding. Applebloom wondered why she wasn’t in the same state as they were in. It seemed like they were just hiding in themselves. Applebloom decided that it was time to take the initiative.

“Well, first things first,” she said. “Do either of you know how to get out of these…things?”

As the sun was just about to rise, Applejack and Macintosh had finally finished burying the remains. There wasn’t time to inscribe a proper burial marker, so they had to resort to using a large stone as the tombstone for both Braeburn and Granny Smith. After what seemed like weeks, they had finally finished what they had set out to do. With the bodies laid to rest, it was time for the next step.

No words had to be spoken as they walked back to the house. They both knew what the other was feeling, and knew that there wasn’t time to talk about it. There was only one thing left to keep them focused, that one singular goal. Find and rescue Applebloom, at all costs. If they failed, there wasn’t exactly much to lose. But they knew that the little girl was depending on her older siblings, and they weren’t about to let her down.

It only took them a few minutes to change into what they were going to need, and to pack a few things for on the road. Applejack had decided to wear her usual attire, just a plain white T-shirt and her usual brown leather jacket. Macintosh, on the other hand, had brushed his teeth and hair, and was sporting a red-plaid, button-down shirt. As they walked down the stairs and though the main living room, they had to stifle the urge to vomit at the sight of all the gore sprayed on the walls. The place seemed to be practically painted in the stuff.

Once they were outside, they took a seat in front of the house. There was only one thing left to do. The time had finally come for some real planning, and Applejack was still at a loss as far as the next step.

“Okay,” Big Mac stated. “We need to get some things straight here. It’s not that difficult to talk like the townsmen do, and we need to remain inconspicuous for as long as possible. The Silent Ones are the cloak and dagger sort of men, and would never expect subterfuge from mere farmers. If we speak like city dwellers, they will have a harder time tracking us, if they are at all.”

“Okay, ah’ll…I mean I’ll give it a try.”

“Good. We might also want to sport some different names. Frankly, if they had a target in mind, it would be best not to run around with the names of her family in the open. Having slit throats won’t get the job done. Also, while we’re on the way, we will need to practice some sort of hand-to-hand skill, like boxing. We can use stubby sticks as if they were daggers and practice disarming each other, etcetera. And I need to learn how to read and write better. You were taught by our uncle how to sound like you’re from Manehatten. Maybe we could work up a good cover story from there.”

“That works, but what has this to do with the plan?”

“The plan must be based off of what we know we can pass off as. In this case, city folk,” Macintosh said, seeming annoyed at the situation. “As for what to do, we have a journey to Canterlot ahead of us, and it will take us a few weeks to get there. That should be enough time to learn to pass off as city dwellers.”

“So when do we start?”

“Now.”

Without any further words spoken, the pair of siblings picked up their gear, and started walking. Applejack looked back at the farm, knowing that they may well never come back. She didn’t know if she would want to. So the young blonde took one last look at it, taking in every crack and inch, soaking up the memories for a lifetime. With firm yet uncertain feet, they strode into the morning, ready to face whatever stood in their way.

Dreams and Other Matters

Applejack woke up to the smell of a well made farmers breakfast. She sat bolt upright, and gave herself a very thorough look-over. There was nothing unusual about her form, just the traditional nightgown she wore covering her firm body, her womanly breasts well concealed. There were no marks from sleeping on the ground, and she felt...rather well rested.

What the hell?

The young woman stood up, and proceeded to stride over to her wardrobe. She had always worn the same sort of clothing her whole life, well except for that little excursion over to Manehatten. Applejack shuddered at the memory of those impeccable little imps.

"My heavens, what are you wearing, darling?" her aunt asked, staring in a sense of utter horror at her little niece. The look on the woman's face was shifting rapidly between some very mixed emotions, fluttering between concern, disdain, worry, and utter rage. "I will not approve of my kin acting in such a...such a...vile, despicable manner! Tis utterly uncouth!"

"Ah'm sorry, auntie Josaphine. Ah didn't mean ta getcha all riled up lahk tha'-"

"Now you're doing it again! You must stop such shenanigans at once, at learn to speak like a proper lady! We do not approve of such barbaric vernacular in this household, so please refrain from such dialect."

"But Auntie, ah don't know how ta do-"

"Then we shall teach you. I happen to know one of the best linguists and speech therapists in the world. A certain Henry Higgins is his name, and he has trained far worse than you..."

Applejack tried her best to set such thoughts about her other relatives aside. While her father had been from Manehatten, he had still fallen for the mare of his dreams and put up with her speech patterns, despite his upbringing. That was all that had mattered, and the young woman was glad her father had been so considerate, especially since it resulted in her existence, after all!

"Oh father, how ah have missed ya..."

"Applejack! The hash browns won't eat themselves!"

She stared off into space, trying to remember what her dream the night before had been. There was something nagging at the back of her mind, tickling at it like some kind of hidden secret, wishing to no avail to be dug up. Applejack sighed and threw on her clothes. The typical jeans and and leather jacket suited her just fine, especially once she threw on her trademark Stetson.

"Ah'm comin', Granny!"

Applejack bounded down the stairs, not caring about how the stairs creaked and groaned from the constant abuse that she had given them over the years. She was anxious to get some grub into her stomach, especially since she felt absolutely famished. "Ah'm comin'!" The young blonde literally hurdled over the railing on the side of the stairs, and bolted into the kitchen. "Ah'm com-"

She was suddenly cut off by her own shock at the sight in front of her. Granny Smith stood by the stove, distributing the bacon with the hashies that the kind old lady had always loved to make. Braeburn stood over by the sink, washing off the kitchenware that had been used to cook the magnificent breakfast in front of them. Big Mac and Applebloom were already seated, waiting eagerly for the next part of the meal. There was only one problem.

"Wha's wrong, dearie? Are you alright?"

Applejack doubled over to vomit, expelling all the contents that were left of the prior night's dinner. She looked up to see her grandmother, head hanging loosely on her shoulder, and blood seeping through her apparent arteries. One of the arms was missing, and blood slowly seeped from the messy, ragged stump of where her left arm had been. Granny didn't seem to notice this, though, and only adopted a look of concern in her glazed eyes.

"Applejack, are you alright?" Braeburn asked. His guts hung freely from his disemboweled corpse, and the deep, nasty gashes across his face seemed to open in time with his words, pouring blood profusely from them. The whole place reeked of bile and shit.

Applebloom stared up at her, the only thing marring the little redhead's face being the blood coming from her nose and mouth, and the split eyebrow that left the eyelid drooping over her right eye. She had obviously been beaten sorely. Then there was Big Mac, seemingly unharmed in all of this.

"What the fuck is going on?!"

"Don't you use that foul language, Applejack! We don't talk like that in here, especially in front of Applbl-"

"Listen to me, you stupid bitch, you're dead! GET IT?! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE AND GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!!"

Applejack woke up screaming. This was the fourth night in a row that she had had horrible nightmares, grisly depictions of what she had already seen...Big Mac was sitting up, looking at her with that concerned expression she had come to know all to well.

"Did you have another one, sis?" Macintosh asked, looking at her with those deep green eyes. He seemed to be feeling the same way about all of this, but there was no real telling with him. Applejack sighed. She wished she could be as strong as he was, but that just wasn't likely to happen.

"It was the same one as last night, Macintosh. I just wish that they'd still be here. I don't know what to do about all of this..."

They had finally adjusted to the different speech patterns, and even used Manehatten upper class style of speaking in practice. The focus on vernacular had given something for the siblings to do to keep their minds off of the whole mess that had started back on that now-infamous night.

The language was not the only thing that they had been practicing. During the last week, there had to be at least twenty hours of boxing and wrestling training that Macintosh had put her through. He hadn't shown her any mercy in their little training bouts, and she still had the welts and bruises to prove it. Sometimes she resented him for it, even though she knew why he was being hard on her. It wasn't in Big Mac's nature to take his frustration out on others, but she knew he wanted her to survive the fights they were heading towards.

"Just try and get some rest, Applejack. We have a long day tomorrow. We're only five days from Canterlot, and the next town ahead of us is where we'll get the proper attire. Maybe some muskets would help..."

It was late afternoon when they finally arrived at their destination, a small town called Saddleton. Applejack was still wondering why every town or city was named after something to do with equines...They walked down the dusty street that shot like an arrow towards the town. There were no cobbles, and the stores on either side of the road ahead of them looked somewhat decrepit from infrequent visits and little repair.

Big Macintosh perused his settings, ever watchful for anyone who might try and do his sister harm. Applejack mentally face-palmed. Her brother was far too protective, even when it wasn't really needed. At least she didn't have to worry about someone trying to break her hymen against her will. That would be really inconvenient...

"Are you okay, Applejack? You seem sort of disconcerted." She had to resist the urge to punch him. While the big guy had been testing his new vocabulary, that particular word had been used far too much recently.

"I'm fine. Can we get on with business now, Billy?"

They were still getting adjusted to using their alias's, and knew that now was a good time to get acquainted with them. Upon reflection, she decided that they should probably do the same thing when by themselves, so that they wouldn't screw it up.

"Sure, Alice. We should start with some clothes. And you should have left the Stetson..."

"NO! It's my one memory from my childhood. Let me keep it."

"That's what they'll be looking for. If they know anything about you, they'll be looking for it. Whoever they are, they understand that you'd keep it."

"No, it's mine!"

Big Mac simply gave her a look, knowing that she was just going through the motions. That left little options as far as the next step was concerned.

"We can't let our sister pay for selfishness. I know you'll miss it. But the time has come to move on...Let it go."

Applejack barely held back the tears that she was feeling well up in her eyes. It wasn't just a matter of the hat. She had lost her family, her home, her name, and her speech. All that losing that hat did was symbolize what she had already left behind. The only thing ahead of her was that sweet little sister that had been wrenched from her feeble arms.

She looked at it, and back to the town they were about to enter. With a mournful sigh, she set the hat on the ground. Poor Stetson, she thought. The pretty blonde figured that she might find it again, someday. She knew better, but there was always hoping.

The pair walked down the dusty road and into the withered old town ahead of them. There were several open shops ahead of them. They all had worn out signs hanging from sagging poles in front of their shops, and the names were rather...stupid.

"The Appetizing Apothecary? What the hell were they thinking?! I guess they've just grown a little inbred around here," Big Macintosh said, looking around with a sense of disdain. Applejack couldn't blame him; she was having trouble not laughing at the somewhat mindless choices for shop names. Finally found what they were looking for, after some frustrating moments trying to decipher what the title meant.

"Morgan & Mustang, the Plot, Mound, and Shaft Concealers Inc. What the hell does that mean?"

"Dunno. I'm supposing that it's for clothing attire. They wouldn't name it that if it were just a restaurant," Big Mac replied. He didn't wait for a response before walking into the little store. Applejack followed suit.

"Good day to you both, my name is Morgan. Is there anything interesting for you to find?"

Applejack reeled at the sudden introduction, especially before she even had a chance to establish what was in the business. After gazing around, she quickly established that it was, indeed, a tailor's shop. There were many dresses, suits, and other assortments sitting around on the mannequins.

"Um...yes," Big Mac replied, gazing at the shopkeeper with a look of curiosity. Applejack took a double-take after taking a good look at him. The old crone was a withered old man, with a kind look on his face. He bore the expression of one who truly understands someone other than just themselves, and accepts their flaws without complaint. He was also wearing a dress and wore some serious amounts of makeup on his wrinkled, old face.

"We would like to get some better clothes for our travels. These...clothes...are no longer necessary, and neither of us are looking to wear mere rags anymore. Can you tailor us some decent attire?"

"Why yes, but it's going to cost you a pretty penny. I hope you have the coin, or else get out of here. I'm a busy man, and don't have time for any nonsense."

"I understand," Big Mac said. He seemed unperturbed by what the man had decided was decent clothing for himself. Applejack was starting to understand why their father had been so proud of him...

Well at least he's capable of not staring at that...guy.

Their measurements were promptly taken, and the old man walked off into the back, no doubt creating some fine clothes. Applejack took a look at Big Mac, and decided to ask him a question.

"How are we going to afford this?" she whispered. "We probably don't have anywhere near the money!"

Big Mac looked at her with a devious smile. "Oh yes we do. Don't you remember where our father came from? Do you think he didn't have any money left when he came to our farm? I inherited it to take care of you and our sister. Never really thought it was worth much, but it sure as hell is now."

The giant of a man pulled out a very large bag of coin, probably several hundred gold bits. Applejack stared at it for a little while, before returning her composure. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I still remembered your little Manehatten incident, and didn't want to tempt you to resume that life. Besides, you'd have made a terrible snob. I'd rather keep my sister the way she is, thanks."

"Is this all we have?"

"Of course not! There is actually about four million sitting in the Manehatten bank, at least last time I checked. I had this sitting under my bed for in case of an emergency, such as this."

Applejack tried her best not to think to hard on it. She knew that if she attempted to picture how much money that was, her head would hurt. So instead, she decided to have a look around. There were items other than just clothing lying around, as she soon found out. Some of it was rather nice. However, one particular item caught her eye.

"What is this?" she asked her brother. Big Mac wandered over to where she was at, staring vacantly at a dark grey pendant with a large ruby in the center. The figure was of a unicorn with wings, and had a certain...appeal...to it. He looked over at Applejack, and decided that it would fit the dress she would be wearing. Well, probably.

After some considerable time, the tailor returned with his completed product. Big Mac had already explained to him the coloring he had wanted, given what nobility wore. The man had obliged, and voila! Attire fitting of the social elite. He knew that this was probably pulling it just a bit far, but they wouldn't be expecting inherently wealthy, would they? And it made the petition to a princess all the easier.

"Thank you kindly, Morgan. Here's your pay. Now about that amulet over there..."

After what seemed like an eternity, they left the town on horseback from some newly acquired stallions. The attire was based largely off of the colors of red and gold, which fit well with the blonde hair and green eyes that seemed to run in the family. They had stopped by several stores along the way through town, and had even purchased some pistols for protection, and a pair of rapiers. While they had shot muskets before, the rapier was almost ludicrous on Big Mac's side, especially given his lack of experience.

They stopped nearby when Applejack looked back upon they little village they had just seen, and stared off in the general direction of where they had left her hat. She knew that if they left now, there would be no way to possibly retrieve it. But Applebloom needed her, and playing games with that hat wasn't going to save her.

For you, sister. For you, and only you.

They rode off, leaving behind a little piece of that young woman, now dressed in a fashion stating wealth and nobility, which, on her father's side, wasn't far off. Life would never be the same, but it would go on. They left the hat behind.

The brown Stetson lay there, and when the sun began to set, a breeze picked up. It was blown off into the hills, and continued to be swept along. Days and nights seemed to pass it by as it aged in the natural elements, and eventually reached the Everfree Forest. There it lay, caught in a bush for several weeks. Eventually, it began to decay, and fell into pieces. Scattered, the remnants blew through the wind, some here some there. One piece made a little snack for a hungry goat. Another made a little padding in a birds nest. But whatever the case, it was truly gone...

What a Fabulous Day

Canterlot had always been somewhat of a tourist attraction. After all, it housed the majority of nobility, aristocracy, and royalty that resided within Equestria's borders, and was therefor the ideal place for both visiting and trading. The fashion and sophistication was world renowned, and it was a safe haven for both the elitists and the motivated. Due to it's being the capital cities in one of the largest empires the world over, the inner part of the city was well guarded, and therefor had one of the lowest crime rates for a metropolis of its caliber.

In a way, everybody who was anybody wanted to reside there, and to that Rarity was no exception. While wearing her almost garish clothing, she strode in through the gates. A silken white dress with far too many frills clung to her body, showing off the shapely form she had spent years working on. In a way, it was utter perfection. The cut of the dress didn't stop at the neckline, like most dresses of the current day, but instead cut down low enough to leave little to the imagination. There was a soft smile on her lips as she walked past the nearest guard.

"Why hello, Darling! I hope you have a fabulous day!"

The flustered look and lack of a question as for reason for entry may it clearly evident that he was in no state to think of his intended post. Poor guard might get reprimanded for it, but given the number of people entering the city, he probably wouldn't be noticed. Rarity smirked at that. All the other soldiers stood a little more firmly at attention when she passed by. After all, she was gorgeous, wasn't she?

Now, where to? she wondered. There were many places to start looking, and to her great chagrin, none of them were among the social elite. Well, might as well start in the...lower...part of town.

It had been nearly three weeks since Sweetie Belle had disappeared, and there was really no way of finding her without stooping to the level of her kidnappers. Rarity let out a sigh at the thought of what inevitably had to come next. All those filthy men, with their grubby little hands would certainly dampen her mood.

The things I do for you, dearest Sweetie Belle.

Not three weeks earlier, Rarity had been having a simply marvelous day. Saphire Shore, the one and only, had shown up in her shop to look for some decent apparel. To think, it was in a way the best day that the fashion minded diva had ever had. Everything seemed to be looking up in her life, and there was no thinking otherwise. She even went out to celebrate by buying herself the nicest dinner available in a small town such as her own. All things were clear until she got home.

"Sweetie Belle! I'm home, darling."

There was a wide grin donning the young lady's face as she slowly closed the door behind her. It was utterly dark inside, and that was unusual. It was only ten in the evening, a half hour after Sweetie's bed time. Had she actually gone to bed on time for once? How odd.

Rarity slowly walked up towards her sister's room. Making sure to be gentle on the door so as not to wake her sibling, the aspiring fashionista opened to view her sister's softly sleeping form. Only, there was no form sleeping in the bed. Letting out a sigh, Rarity lit the nearby kerosene lamp. Oh, Sweetie was going to have hell to pay if she was still out this late! What appeared as soon as she turned on the light was something rather drastic.

Rarity's purse dropped to the ground as she saw the wreckage that was once her sister's room. The room looked as if someone had fired a battery of cannons into it, everything scattered all over the floor. The drapes had been literally torn right of the ringpoles, and Sweetie's bed was flipped onto its side, covers slashed to tattered rags.

The young lady's hand quickly rose to her mouth at the sight before her, barely suppressing a scream at what she saw. Rushing forward, she started tearing at the wreckage that was once Sweetie's room. Well, if a hurricane could somehow find its way inside of the Boutique, Rarity had to at least grudgingly admit that it couldn't do as much of a successful job f utterly destroying its target. After a few minutes of rummaging, it became clear that the Sweetie was no longer there.

Deciding to take stock of what all had happened, Rarity perused her surroundings. Everything was demolished, left only for the rats to infest. This would've been a difficult job under different circumstances, that was for sure. Taking everything in with a forcefull calm eye, Rarity assessed what had transpired. Obviously, this had happened while she was at the restaurant, that was a given. But the fact that everything was left in utter chaos clearly displayed some sort of struggle. That means that her younger sister had not, in fact, been asleep when they came for her.

Digging through the garbage, Rarity looked for any signs of blood. It didn't take long to find some, but not enough for anyone to be seriously injured. Yes, something bad had happened here, but unless they had strangled her or used a blunt object, it would be safe to assume that Sweetie was still very much alive.

"Thank you, Celestia," Rarity said aloud to herself. The relief of the fact that her sister was still mostly likely breathing seemed to lift much of the fear off of her shoulders. The guilt of the situation could come later, but for now, she had a job at hand. "Don't worry, my dear, dear little sister. I'll save you, I promise!"

With that, the young fashoinista ran straight to her room, relieved to find everything still intact. Apparenlty they only came for her sibling, by the look of things. She searched her wardrobe quickly, pulling out everything she had. After a few moments of sorting through what was worth taking and what was not, she stripped down to her barest garments. Taking a more comfortable dress, she slipped the clothing over her shoulders and past her head. Once the apparel had been settled, Rarity moved towards packing.

This wasn't a quick fling into the park, nor a vacation in Canterlot for the iddle pleasure of it. This was serious, and even a woman such as Rarity knew better than to mess around. She reached down underneath the mattress to her bed, pulling out a somewhat gilded key. Looking up, Rarity gazed at the nearby cabinet that she had kept locked for the last several years. It was time to open it up, it seemed.

Walking over, she carefully inserted the tool into the little slot, and the lock clicked with adoration of its long lost companion. Rarity pulled the drawer outwards. Inside rested a simple wooden box, intricately carved, with a single latch holding it shut. Rarity's fingers slowly undid the clasp, and pulled back the lid. Inside rested a single, lonely flintlock pistol.

"I'll save you, Sweetie. And I'll kill the man who did this. There is no place in heaven, hell, or this damned fucking earth where he can hide from me."

*Click*

Rarity walked towards the downtown area, keeping a firm, but elogant gait to her step. There was a time for fanciness and a time for simplicity, and now was not a time for either. Now was the time for the firm step, for the warrior. Rarity walked on towards the nearest restaurant.

It was approaching noon, and that was clearly just beginning of things. There were many questions to ask, such as the distinct "Have you heard of anyone's children being kidnapped lately?" There was really no other way to find them, since she hadn't found any tracks leaving her shop that fatefull night. With a sigh, she opened the door to the nearest pub.

It wasn't a crumby establishment as far as most such establishments went. After all, this was Canterlot. A sign hung atop the entryway, sporting a witch being decapitated by a burly man. The title said it all; "The Bitch's Beheading" What a clever name for a place to go get wasted.

The joing was filled with all sorts of men. A pair of soldiers sat near a corner, keeping an eye on what transpired over the tops of their ales. Several men sat around in places, either drinking, vomiting, or both. Scurvy maids strode around, smiling at the sorry excuses for human beings that sat around the place. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to come in here wearing what she was, but it was far too late to turn back now.

As she walked up to the front table, Rarity kept as vigilant an eye as possible without attracting too much attention. The bartender, a rather stout man who rather resembled the silhouette on the sign outside, turned to her whilst cleaning a random mug. "Can I help you?" he asked. His piercing green eyes met her fair blue, neither blinking a wink.

"Why yes. I'd very much enjoy a glass of Pinot Noir, if you have any in stock. If not, just a bit of good quality burgundy should go over just fine."

Rarity was surprised to find the man laughing humorously at the request of a lady who obviously didn't belong in this part of town, let alone in this establishment. After his guffaws died down, her wiped a tear from his eyes. "It's been a long time since anyone asked for a brew such as that around here. This place has been getting filthier and filthier!"

"Do you have any?"

"Why yes, I do in fact have both. Most people don't ask for it, but I keep some around for old time's sake."

The bartender walked out through a door to the side, probably to go through his old stock. He came back a few minutes later with a rather nice looking bottle of the dark red liquid. Taking the cork with a wine opener, her popped the top out with the deft hands of an experienced drinker.

"Ah, this is the best form of wine any man can drink. I admire your taste, miss." He set a pair of nice wine glasses on the counter, and proceeded to pour a good helping for both of them. Holding it up, they looked into each others' eyes, toasting to the kind thoughts. "To better times."

As they downed their drinks, a laugh seemed to come from nearby. Turning to see who it was, Rarity was surprised to find another woman like herself in the bar. What was even more surprising was the maner of hair that she sported. While different colors were in fact commonplace, even purple like Rarity's, seeing a woman with a motley of such colors was far from the norm. Why, it was even much akin to a rainbow!

"Someone fancy like her wishing to drink old wine, I can see," the prismatic woman stated through her chortles. "But you, Joe? I never had you figured for one of the hopeless romantics!"

"Maybe you should learn not to expect only what you see, Rainbow. Maybe someone as into liquors as I might actually have a taste for something other than just cheap beer, which you seem to have grown an affinity to."

Rainbow stopped mid laugh at that. "Hey!" she cried out in outrage. "This ain't cheap beer, you know! This is straight up Budweiser, king of beers! Wars have been fought for access to this majestic brewsky!" The straight face didn't last long before she doubled over again, laughter breaking out once more from her smug little mouth.

"Just ignore her," Joe said. "She doesn't appreciate anything, really. All she's done for the last month is sit around moping in this bar, drowning herself in her drink." He looked deeply into Rarity's eyes. "She seems to be taking something too much to heart, but she won't even say what it is! Well, anyways, enough of that. I don't suppose you came here just to pop a bottle of good wine."

Perceptive, isn't he?

"Well, actually, I came here because I was wondering about something. You see...I need to know if you've heard about a kidnapping recently." A silence immediately replaced the drunken laughter that had just been flowing from beside her. "Someone dear to me has been taken, and I'm trying to find her."

Rarity was surprised to find herself roughly turned around to face the drunken woman she had just been trying to ignore. "Did you just say that you had a relative stolen?" Rainbow seemed to look as surprised as Rarity did. Rather than thinking of a better idea, she answered more out of latent reaction than actual thought.

"Yes. My sister, Sweetie Belle, was kidnapped nearly three weeks ago. Why?"

Rainbow looked pensive for a moment before looking Rarity in the eye. Rose colored iris's met blue as Rainbow held out a hand. "My name's Rainbow Dash. I have a friend who was kidnapped more than a month ago. The poor kid's family was murdered, and I'm not going to lose her too without a fight!"

Rarity met her hand, now glad to have finally found someone who was in a similar boat to herself, even if it was just a brash young woman like Rainbow Dash. At least she was better than nothing, that's for sure. "The name's Rarity. Glad to meet you, Rainbow."

Setting money down on the counter, the rainbow haired woman stood up. "I think we should get going. It's not like we can stop them by sitting around here!"

Several hours later, the new pair had come no closer to finding their lost charges than when they'd started. They'd even gone through some of the dingiest slums in town and still had failed to find any information on who had taken them. Rarity quitely moaned at the wear on her feet. Even after spending weeks traveling the countryside, she still wasn't used to this much walking in one straight stretch.

"Rainbow, can we sit down for a minute?"

The prismatically haired girl just sighed in exasperation. Without bothering to respond, she led Rarity into a nearby alleyway to take a breather. The latter sat down with a distinct "humph" escaping her lips.

"So what now, Rares?" Dash asked, seeming to have grown rather annoyed over the last few hours. "We can't seem to find any lead on this!"

"Calm down, Dash. I think we should ask the Princess. I mean, she does have a lot more intel at her disposal than you might think, and if my hunch is right, we might not be the only ones involved."

"Are you sure that she has the time for us?"

"She is a Princess, and it's her royal duty to protect her people. Besides, that friend of yours lost her entire family! Surely that should draw her attention."

"Her name's Scootaloo, Rares. And yes, that might catch her eye, if nothing else. Well, it's certainly worth a try. So shall we petition tomorrow?"

"Agreed."

Rarity pulled up the bottom of her dress, taking a moment to pull off her heeled shoes and rub her ankles. She took a moment to view the current state of her now-familiar blisters. Apparently a new one was forming near the heel of her right foot, but that was of little matter at the moment. She was so absorbed in the care of her feet that she didn't notice the look of disgust on Rainbow's face until she slipped her feet back into her shoes.

"Why do you wear that shit? This isn't a fucking ball, Rarity! You're going to seriosly hurt yourself!"

"Just shut up, Dash. This is none of your concern."

"It's every bit a part of my concern, Rares! Like it or not, we may well be in the same boat here! It'll he hard as hell to keep pace with me when you're wearing fucking dress shoes!!" Rainbow seemed to be on the brink of screaming when she suddenly started calming down. Looking down for a moment, she slowly started speaking again. Rarity was too shocked from her outburst to do anything but listen.

"We've got to work together, Rares. I...I wouldn't know what to do without you. I-I just d-don't know what to do." Tears started forming in the corners of her eyes as she spoke on. "She's like a sister to me. I don't know how to live without her, and now I'm stuck in a postion to where if I screw this up, that may become a reality. And in the end, it would be all my fault. I just can't do this, Rares. Not alone." Rainbow's sad expression slowly hardened. "And here you are, with your own sister snatched from your hands and you go around wearing these handicaps when she needs you most!"

Rainbow suddenly broke down, quietly crying into her hand as she tried to look away from Rarity. The fashionista strode over to her companion, and placed a loving arm around her. "Shh...It's okay to be sad, Dashie. It's okay. I wouldn't wear these if I had something else to wear, but this is all I've ever known. I'm sorry. I'll...I'll get something else."

Dash looked up into the eyes of her newfound friend. "No, Rarity. I'm sorry for berating you like that. There are bad men out there doing bad things to people we love. We can't afford to bicker amongst ourselves. Thank you. Thank you for being there for me."

For the second time that day, they softly met each other's gaze, their eyes silently expressing the deep compassion they felt for one another that had arisen, not from longterm relationship, but instead from the way they could empathise with one another. Rainbow bowed her head back down, softly crying into Rarity's shoulder, letting out all the pain and heartache that had been attacking her for months. Rarity, in turn cried back. They just let it out, like only true friends can.

"Aww, isn't that just the cutest thing?"

The pair broke apart suddenly at the sound of several men entering the previously un-occupied alleyway they had been resting in. Realizing that it was almost dark, Rarity mentally facepalmed for being so brash as to lose track of time.

There were eight of them, far more than even trained fighters could hope to outlast in a scrap. Dingy coats rested on slouched shoulder, wafting with the aroma of men who didn't understand the word "hygiene". Rarity shook off the startled and vacant expression on her face, slowly rising from where she'd sat in Rainbow's embrace. The men suddenly drew knives and even a couple pistols. Rarity, in turn, drew her own.

"Just give us the money, and we swear, we won't kill you."

"And I'm going to trust a group of bastards like yourselves?"

"You will if you don't want me to paint the alley with your blood, bitch!"

A sneer broke on the face of the gang's leader. He seemed to think he had this whole thing figured out. Rarity knew better than to play with his snide attitude. Instead of just handing over the money, she raised the gun to aim straight at the leader's center of mass. The ball is nearly an inch wide. A blast through the vitals will kill him instantly. She pulled back the lock on her handgun with a distinct click.

"Don't be stupid. I don't have to kill you unless you resist. Dead bodies don't make good company," the leader stated, figuring that he was calling what he figured was her bluff. He pulled back the lock on his own musket, hoping that it would be enough to intimidate her. He couldn't have been more wrong if he tried.

"Ah, so you figure that not only will you take our money, but also our womanhood?"

Without waiting for a response, Rarity gently squeezed the trigger. Time seemed to slow down to the leader of the rag-tag pack as he heard the gun's retort. The man was swept off of his feet as the ball blew right through the base of his ribs, shattering bone, flesh, and vitals indiscriminantly. Blood splattered onto his cohorts as the bullet exited out the back of his ribcage.

"Shit!" Rainbow cursed as Rarity dragged her behind a pile of garbage just as the shock wore off of the group that had just tried to use them. "What the fuck, Rares!"

"No choice," she replied, pulling out a ball and wrap of powder from her purse, hoping that she could reload in time to scare off the attackers. Rainbow peered around the corner, only to duck her head back as several balls blew on by, smashing through the litter and ricocheting off of the walls. The men seemed to slowly creep forward, not wanting to meet the same fate as their leader just had.

Rarity suddenly jumped up above the trash, firing her pistol before the coming thugs had a chance to react. The bullet slammed into the wall right beside one of their heads, shattering brick and mortar into his face. The group responded in kind, firing their own bullets off far too late to actually strike anything.

Her fingers working swiftly, Rarity loaded the next shot into her little pistol, hoping against hope to strike against something other than block. Once the lock was pulled back, she raised her head from a slightly different location than the time before, hoping they'd be too dumb to shoot right. The shot actually struck true, blasting into the shoulder of the closest assailant, knocking him off of his feet. Just as she suspected, the idiots fired willy nilly, whizzing past where they thought her head would be.

The light of coherent thought seemed to strike their fancy as they realized how long it took to reload the shots. Rather than waiting to get nailed, they suddenly charged. That was exactly the opportunity Rarity had been hoping for. Pulling Dash to her feet, they broke off into a sprint with the criminals only steps behind them. Running out into the street, the girls started pushing themselves harder than they'd ever thought possible. With all their weapons unloaded, the robbers had no option other than to give chase.

Several minutes passed by, but it felt like hours to the pair as they tried desperately to keep ahead of their attackers. The dingy big men followed, trying hard to keep pace with their prey. A couple of them slowed down enough to start reloading their weapons on the move.

Suddenly, the women rounded a corner where a few guards were on their nightly rounds. This was exactly what Rarity had been hoping for, pulling Rainbow out of the line of fire as the assailants found themselves face to face with four armed guards. One of them had the stupidity to fire his recently reloaded weapon. The bullet flew into the chest of the closest guard, sealing the fate of the would-be robbers.

The sound of three rifles firing simultaneously was followed by the dying screams of three marauders. That was more than enough incentive for the remaining three to turn and run, leaving behind their fallen comrades. The guards turned to find the women they had just saved, only to find the street very empty. While following them would've been fairly routine for them under normal circumstances, they did have a dead officer to deal with. Well, it was time to take care of that.

The sun was far gone by the time the companions stopped running, pulling into a less conspicous alley. Even the last vestiges of the fadin light were gone, leaving nothing but the light of kerosene street lamps for sight. Rarity gasped for air, surprised to see that Dash had already recovered. Well it made sense, given how athletic Rainbow seemed to be.

"Rares?" Rainbow asked, looking somewhat shellshocked from what she had just seen. "Were they really going to..."

"Yes. And they probably would have killed us afterwards anyways. That's how trash like that opperates, darling. They have no class and no point in being." Rarity seemed to be digging for an excuse for what she had just done. It didn't work to well, and she leaned over to vomit. Upon seeing the lunch and booze leaving her friend's stomach, Rainbow Dash couldn't help but follow suit. Once their stomachs were emptied, Dash looked over at her companion.

"So what now, Rares? Are we gonna stay on the street or find an inn or what?"

Rarity looked pensive for a moment, before simply stating, "Well, I don't want to go through that again anytime soon. I vote for an inn. Know any nearby?"

"Sure," the rainbow haired woman replied. "I stayed at this joint over by Quarry Avenue a few days ago. It's better than a lot of the places around, but it sure as hell don't come cheap."

"That's fine. We can bunk in a room for the night. I certainly have the money."

"Hehehe, I think I should have seen that, given the gettup. About that, how did you manage to keep up?"

Rarity didn't say anything, instead pulling up the hem of her dress. Her feet were both bare and bloodied. "I didn't want to risk our lives for the sake of my feet. They can heal, darling. Life cannot."

"Well, as long as you're okay."

"Come on, Dash. Let's go get some rest."

The new pair of friends walked off into the night, not fully knowing what the future would bring. But at least they had each other, and that's all that really mattered. Mountains and empires may rise and one day fall, but friendship is something deeper, and truly immortal.