Chapter Three: Beyond the Grove
"Whitetail Wood is just lovely."

Dreams.

They were something every zebra had yet throughout our history no one could ever explain exactly why we had them. My dream was to live my life with my Xanthe and raise our two colts together. We would pass on the traditional zebra brewing styles to them, watch them find mares of their own, and have their own foals. I would then one day die peacefully having lived a full but modest life. It did not seem like asking for much but now those humble dreams had been taken from me for now.

Dreaming was something that set us apart from ponies. Ponies did not have a need for dreams. Why would they have to? All living things are given a destiny before they are born. A zebra is free to dream of what his or her destiny could be. A pony had her destiny assigned to them as a filly. What need did she have for dreams?

I was asleep in the cold on a pile of dying leaves in a dilapidated hovel on the edge of town. My only dream now was to survive my sentence and get back to my Xanthe.

"He is a fool you know." a stallion's deep voice rang in the darkness.

"True, he needs our help." another lighter pitched stallion responded.

"He does not even know we are here White." the first stallion groused.

"Oh Black just give him some time. He will find us." the second voice encouraged.

"Time.. is exactly something he is running out of."

*** *** ***

CRACK!!!

I snapped out of my slumber in an instantly with a chill running through my body from my muzzle to my tail. I jerked around from my mass of rotting leaves to see Zurma's crop slapped sharply against the crumbling stone wall. She stood tall standing in dark and sullen archway of the correctional ward.

"Forget to set your PipBuck greenstripes?" she hollered tucking the lash under her hoof.

I had set it for about three hours later..

"How was I to know?" I replied sheepishly. "You had not even set a time for me to report." I pleaded in a pitiful whine.

"Never mind that greenstripes. Haul your lazy hide out of here and get down to the barracks for training."

"Yes, right away ma'am."

I choked on what I said but it was too late. Zurma's expression melted away from behind her scarred visage and my heart sank. It took me less than a moment to realize my gaffe. Zurma was not one of the tribe guards handing out citations for curfew violations or breaking up scuffles in the Stable halls. She was military.

CRACK!!!

Her crop struck home on my hindquarters. The sting from yesterday's flogging had not even begun to heal when it was greeted by a new one.

"You.. will.. call me.. sir!" she roared.

CRACK!!! CRACK!!! CRACK!!!

I let out an agonizing cry in the bitter morning darkness.

*** *** ***

I was marched around the interior of the perimeter wall. We were headed towards the soldiers barracks at the south end of town with my aching bottom in tow. They were close to the front gate that lead to Whitetail. That was the closest I had ever dared tread to Xenolith's exit. The early morning air was moist and cool. I sensed the blood trickle from the sores left by Zurma's thrashing. Every step of my hind legs caused me to writhe in pain. I bit the tip on my muzzle to hold back the whinny that might invite an additional lashing from my cruel warden.

The glow from the moon was visible through the thick blanket overhead. Stars peeked through the tiny gaps in the clouds casting their admonishing stares down upon me. Xenolith was quiet except for the faint trotting of the armed sentries who patrolled its streets and the otherworldly moans and howls that echoed from Whitetail. Lanterns burned in the twin watchtowers keeping a constant lookout over anything that would threaten from beyond the great wall. Four large torches marked the corners of the warriors training field that sat before the barracks. I wondered what new torture I was meant to endure when I saw pile the stones.

Most everything in Xenolith was built from stone. A single cottage was comprised of more stone than could have been found lying around in the grove. In the weeks after the Stable door was opened the High Priestess (who was still our Overmare at the time) ordered a decommissioned sector deep within the Stable to be scrapped. The stone beneath the steel and concrete was mined and hauled through the Stable and brought to the foyer as the tribe began construction of our great wall. Years of digging and hauling were needed to gather the raw materials necessary to build it. Every able bodied stallion and mare was required to take part in the mining operation. Even the Overmare showed her solidarity by working her share of the labor quota doing the same hauling and heavy lifting work required by every zebra for the mining project. She was truly was an inspiration to the tribe. The first work I did for the tribe once receiving my PipBuck was helping the adults carry the smaller stones from the dig site to the Stable entrance. I remember how proud I felt trotting merrily through the Stable halls ferrying rocks in my little wagon just like the big zebras. For almost ten years our impregnable wall has stood. The dig teams have been cut significantly in recent years since the walls completion.

Now history was malevolently repeating itself.

As I walked up to the training field I turned and sent Zurma a puzzled look.

"What will you require of me sir?" I evenly asked desperately hoping Zurma would not construe any sarcasm from my voice.

"What do I require?" Zurma's mood had thankfully downgraded from infuriated tyrant to wicked taskmaster. "What I require is for you to pull."

"Pull, sir?" I questioned meekly.

"Yes pull." She gestured to a rusted and saggy old wagon that stood beside the closest torch light. Zurma marched me over and fastened me to its grimy harness. She pulled it tight looking slightly chagrined as she was unable to produce a yelp out of me. I held fast and endured the tug on my shoulders. The strain was nothing compared to my swollen posterior.

"Now get to it, hee-yah!" she barked leaping into the wagon. She cracked her crop against the cart's side. I jumped not realizing she had not stuck me this time but my flank was too sore to tell.

"Sir? Where am I supposed to go?" I asked the question not wanting to know the answer. I began to think this exercise had less to do with honey foraging and more to do with her sick amusement.

She responded as though I asked something obvious, "To the next torch of course."

I heaved a sigh praying she would not take notice of and trotted to the next torch outlining the grounds. The wheels shrieked from the rust that had built up on them over the years. My hind legs doubled in pain from my earlier beating. Zurma then directed me to the third and unsurprisingly to the forth torches to complete the course. It took all the strength I had just to complete the first circuit around the training field. When I arrived where I began she hopped out, heaved a boulder in her place, and ordered me to haul the wagon around again. A new boulder was added with each pass. Just as I began to feel my luck could not get worse a storm rolled in soon after I 'earned' my fourth stone.

*** *** ***

I collapsed in the soggy field. Mud filled my wounds and seeped into my muzzle. I did not even have the energy to dispel the foul taste from my mouth. Hard rain pelted my coat as I lay motionless in the ground. At best I imagined myself impaled to death by a swarm of murderous rad-bees. It would have been a poetic end for a zebra who had already been killing himself with their nectar. Now I was not even going to survive Zurma's 'training' never mind dying in Whitetail.

The torches bordering the training grounds blazed on despite the torrential waters that poured from the sky. "Fire augmented by zebra alchemy," I thought. Alchemy was the power to take a aspect of something and change it to something else. For example an aspect of fire was it could be extinguished by water. Alchemy could be used to take away that aspect to make fire that was waterproof. I only had a moment to marvel at this until my neck was met by Zurma's hoof.

"Aww, had enough greenstripes?" Her forehoof dug into my mane as she pushed my face deeper into the mud. I could not breathe.

"If I had known the High Priestess was going to assign a fragile, spineless, and pathetic excuse for a stallion to my detachment I would have seen you crammed back into you mothers womb before you had a chance to fuck up my team greenstripes!" she hollered deafeningly close to my ears.

I laid in the mud drowning under the pressure of her hoof.

"Not going to say anything, hmm?" Zurma questioned in rhetoric. Her hoof was bearing down so hard I felt as though my neck was going to snap. "I ought to kill you now and save Whitetail the trouble!"

She was trying to kill me. Why should she not want to? Entering the woodland beyond the grove required the fittest of strength, skill, and mind. I had none of those things and now she saw me as liability who would get her whole squad killed.

She was seething again. I finally understood what was happening. She was protecting her detachment. I had to gain the endurance not just to survive in the toxic woodland but to not jeopardize the welfare of the others counting on her. I tightened my muscles. I needed to stand.

*** *** ***

Thunder roared outside. I was out of the rain lying in a cot in the medical center across from the barracks. My body ached in a way I had never experienced. As a colt I was always exhausted after an hour or two of helping my elders carry rocks from the mine to the foyer. It was nothing a cool cup of bland apple juice could not rectify. Right now the juice of all the apples in the orchard would not be enough to reenergize me. Juice was not what I needed anyway.

I turned my head to see my flanks bound up in bandages and healing poultices. The stinging sensation had eased a bit. I craned to see the time on my PipBuck. It showed that I had earned at least three more hours of sleep. I was alone but heard voices beyond the curtains around my bed.

"Rough first day Zurma?" a lively sounding stallion exclaimed.

"Greenstripes is a mess," she grumbled, "He has spent almost all his time lounging in the Stable mollycoddling himself in his honeywine. He knows nothing of honor, nothing of teamwork, and nothing outside his little grey world. If I gave him a gun to defend himself, I would wager he would blow his own brains out not knowing which way to point he barrel."

"Oh, so he is the one from the Bumble." the genial sounding stallion replied. "The meads they brew there are wonderful. It makes putting our hides on the line to gather the honey seem more worthwhile."

"Really Qlon is that what you think this is about?" Zurma shot back with irritation in her voice. "The food we hunt for keeps our tribe alive and he fetters it away on trivial libations. It is an affront to the souls those who have lost their lives foraging for Xenolith."

It sounded like Qlon was about to attempt to get a word in when Zurma continued. "I am going to the High Priestess." she groused. "I will not have us killed trying to keep his sorry ass alive." I heard her hooves clop down as she sloshed out into the rain.

Suspicion confirmed. Zurma might be getting a rise out of my misery but she was not about to risk her team for me. I wanted to drown my anguish in honeywine. Even listening to a recording or two during what was likely a brief reprieve from Zurma would be nice but I hurt too much to reach for the earbloom. Just then a buff stallion peered around my bed curtain.

"Oh! You were awake." he said softly. It was the same voice speaking to Zurma. "Sorry you had to hear all that. Zurma is a great commanding officer but she can be somewhat.." he stalled thinking of the right word.

"Sadistic." I whispered under my breath.

"...exuberant." he finished.

"No need to be sorry," I responded limply. "Zurma is right." I tucked my muzzle between my forehooves. "I have no business being outside of Xenolith. The High Priestess she... " I began to trail off.

"...is doing what is best for the tribe." Qlon said realigning my sentence. "You are Zythus correct? My name is Qlon. I am the heavy munitions expert for the second detachment. Shotguns, rifles, machine guns I am quite skilled with them all, but a flamer is certainly the best for Whitetail if you ask me."

I felt an embarrassed blush across the black of my muzzle I was quick to cover. My skill with firearms was certainly far less extensive or impressive. Xanthe's father took me to the Stable's practice range when I was younger. I was decent enough at hitting stationary targets at laughably close ranges with a low caliber pistol. He even trained me how to use it with S.A.T.S, which made the moving targets at laughably close ranges easier to hit. I was sure it was long before I took his daughter as my wife that I had handled any kind of gun.

"Listen." Qlon spoke trying to reassure me. "Punishment or not, as long as you are a part of our unit I have your back and so will Zurma and the others. You will serve your time with us. You show the High Priestess you have learned from this experience. Once you have shown her you have reformed you will be right back with your family in no time at all."

"Thank you," I replied not really believing any of those things were going to happen.

*** *** ***

"Zythus you bastard!"

Xanthe's hoof struck me square in the muzzle. She... she had hit me? Never had I seen her act so brash. And she hit me and right in front of Zurma. Even if I was a considered a criminal assaulting a tribe member would have repercussions. At the very least Zurma would be forced to have my Xanthe locked up in the detention cells.

I spun towards Zurma ready to plea for her not to lock up my Xanthe but she had averted her gaze just at that moment. She turned behind the warriors barracks as if she had heard something.

The hard rain continued to pour that day and the sun had began to set. Xanthe had stormed out from inside the Stable to give me a much deserved tell off. Tears mixed with raindrops and formed rivulets running down her flushed cheeks.

"Xanthe... I..." I sputtered.

"Zythus do not dare say a word!" she howled. "How the hell could you do this to me? How could you do to our foals? You have been banished from the Stable. You are assigned to a forest detachment and you have the audacity to only leave a half-assed letter behind to let me know?"

It seemed that she was closer to furious than heartbroken.

"Xanthe. I can explain. I..." but she cut me off. This was just as well since I really did not have any explanation that would have improved the situation.

"Just be quiet!" she demanded. "I hope for damn sure you learn something out there. I do not understand what has happened to you these days but you are no longer the stallion I know and love!"

Xanthe... did not love me anymore? I know she was speaking out of anger, but I still felt my heart rend at those words.

"Goodbye Zythus!"

With that she turned and galloped back past the temple towards the Stable.

I wanted to go after her but I was strapped back into the haggard wagon harness and could give no chase. My Xanthe disappeared behind the facade of the High Priestesses Temple and into the darkened squall. A foreboding darkness penetrated my soul as if I would never see my love again.

*** *** ***

The downpour persisted for the next two days. It was forbidden to enter Whitetail in the rain as it made the woods even more treacherous. As long as the showers fell I would be kept safe. Relatively speaking of course, it made training a nightmare. I began to think Zurma got a heavy heat in her loins from lashing my hide and forcing me to haul rocks in the mud. Stray stones and branches mysteriously found their way under the wagon's wheels and Zurma was never shy to offer the inspirational crack of her lash to motivate me over them.

Unfortunately for both of us the High Priestess had rejected her protest. Zurma was just going to have to get used to the idea that I was now a member of her detachment and nothing short of killing me was going to make it otherwise. So she appeared to be she trying.

During my earned breaks I had a chance to meet the remaining two members of Zurma's team. There was Zora, a stocky jovial mare who carried the smoker saddle. The last one a tall laconic stallion named Xohar who was the team's light weapons handler, field medic, and general support unit. I already knew Qlon was the heavy gunner and Zurma was of course their leader, but despite my 'training' I really had no idea what job I was supposed to fill. After three days of mud, rain and rocks I finally broke down and asked.

"Excuse me sir?" I inquired to Zurma. "What is it am I to do in Whitetail?"

"Is it not obvious greenstripes?" she quipped "You will pull the wagon."

Of course...

Trying to get any sleep in the correctional ward was a joke. Qlon had brought me a water resistant tarp to help shield me from the rain while I attempted sleep. I spent the nights in the ward wrapped in my tarp and blanket while listening to my father's journals if for no other reason than to try to distract myself from my misery.

If there was any silver lining to my situation it was that I was getting a bit stronger, building endurance, and learning more about PipBucks. I would trade all of those things for a jug of mead and the warmth of my Stable bed next to my Xanthe.

"You need to cheer up!" I heard a oddly familiar voice.

"You need to get tough!" another voice spoke flatly.

I shot up from my improvised sleeping bag breathing heavily now half sunk into the puddle of mud that had formed underneath me. Inside the darkness of the ward water was flowing in from nearly everywhere. I activated my PipBucks lamp spell searching for the voices but there was nothing.

*** *** ***

The storm broke the morning of the fourth day. Xanthe had not come to see me since our fight. I missed her deeply. I missed little Xelous and Quagga. I even was even missing my old work assignment brewing the honeywine at the Humble Bumble. It was only four days into my sentence and I was already physically and emotionally broken.

Almost to her disappointment I was awake when Zurma came to collect me from the broken down hovel known as the correctional ward. It was apparent to me she took a malicious pleasure in rousing me with a snap of her crop but at this point I had given up on sleep. When the rain stopped I had just wrung out my blanket and slung it over a cross beam of the roof to dry out. I noticed Zurma's disposition was more tempered than usual when she stepped into the archway.

"It is time Zythus." she intoned. My ears perked realizing it was the first time since we met she called me by my name.

"Yes sir." I replied. I was ready for Whitetail. I had to be.

As with the prior days I marched behind Zurma along the perimeter wall to the training field. The torches that contoured the boundary of the field outside the barracks burned brightly In the cold darkness of morning. Standing in the field I could see the shadows of Zurma's second detachment.

We spent the morning rehearsing our formations. Zurma led on point and I trotted behind her harnessed to the wagon. Zora and Xohar flanked me on the left and right while Qlon who would wield massive flamer battle saddle marched on our six.

The morning sun crept its way into the sky. I tried not to allow myself from getting distracted by it as it seemed to tick down the minutes until our mission began. Once the sun reached its zenith we would be entering headlong into the most deadly and horrifying place our people knew.

After our rehearsal we gathered in the warrior's barracks for our morning meal. One of the temple shrinemares adorned in beads and robes joined us inside and lead us in a ritual prayer tin preparation for our journey into Whitetail.

"Oh wise and all seeing ancestors," the priestess called out. She sat at the end of the table with her forelegs outspread to the sky.

"We implore that you watch over these valiant souls as they march into the depths of fear and darkness. Guide them swiftly to their quarry and deliver them from the evils within. May the fire of their arms protect and strike deep to smite the terrors that befall them. Hear our voice o' great and benevolent spirits. For these warriors fight not just for themselves but for the continued survival of the great zebra people. Have heart mighty warriors, the spirits of our ancestors are with you."

We nodded our heads in solemn reverence and began our meal.

"So, you think this civvy is actually ready to enter the forest?" I heard Zora audibly whisper to Zurma.

"He can pull a wagon. So long as he does nothing terribly stupid," Zurma shot me a cross look, "he will at least keep from getting the rest of us killed."

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

"With all due respect," Qlon chimed in. "Zythus has been working hard. I am quite sure he will perform admirably today. We are foraging from one of the closest hives to Xenolith. I wager that we will be make it there and back without having to fire a single shot."

I appreciated his encouragement not sure how deserving I was of it. I prayed my first experience in Whitetail would be as uneventful as Qlon had predicted. I did of course still have my trump card. I began to feel an extreme guilt for having the stealth cloak. If things got bad would I really abandon them to save myself? I felt like a coward for even considering the idea but alas I had not ruled it out.

"Do not get cocky!" Zurma snapped back." Just because our objective is nearby do not use it as an excuse to let your guard down even for a moment. And I care not how well greenstripes here has done. He is a civilian and a malefactor. Understood?"

Did anyone realize I was sitting right there? I let out a small grimace and I felt my ears sink. Just when I was feeling like part of the team Zurma was quick to put me in my place.

"What do you think Xohar?" Zora questioned.

The tall stallion sipped his tea quietly having not paid the breakfast discussion any mind. It was likely only out of courtesy he responded flatly, "I wish only to complete the mission and return by sunset."

We finished our meal and were soon meet outside by one of the tribe quartermasters. She delivered to us the necessary gear and weapons we would need for our expedition into Whitetail. Zurma and Xohar had began to take inventory of the equipment when a second young mare in a lab coat galloped towards us at full tilt. She stumbled landing face first into the soft ground below. Without missing a beat she gathered herself wiping the dirt from her muzzle and continued her approach. When she reached us she was breathing heavily having clearly overworked herself.

"Zythus... need... speak... shortly" the little mare gasped.

Zurma clearly did not welcome the interruption. "Just who the hell do you think you are little prissy?" Zurma scowled. "We are preparing for a foraging mission."

The lab coat wearing mare collected herself and spoke once again, "By orders of the science department I must speak to Zythus in private for just a few moments."

"I am not withholding to the science department little mare." Zurma retorted. "Away with you while I am feeling generous enough not to toss you in the detention center for interfering with a military operation."

"Please sir," the mare begged. "It is imp... pera... impera... impera," she stammered.

"Imperative?" I added.

"Yes, imperative I speak to Zythus right away sir." she finished.

Zurma's eyes slanted focusing on the tiny mare before her. She was from the science department and was looking for me? Did she possibly have a message from my parents?

"Zythus is in my custody little mare. And we do not have time for you games." she scolded.

"Zurma. sir... please... um," I found myself stuttering now " Ahem, with all due respect she might have information relative to our mission."

Zurma stopped to size up the petite science mare again and then barked, "Fine! But as I said Zythus is in my custody and I will hear what he has to hear." She turned to the other members of her regiment. "Qlon, assist Xohar in to cataloguing our supplies. Greenstripes and I will return shortly."

"Yes sir." Qlon robustly saluted.

Xohar and now Qlon continued going through the supplies sorting them by the prospective users. The lab coat mare, Zurma, and I clopped towards the perimeter wall behind the barracks.

"This had better be good prissy." Zurma warned.

"Well you see..." the lab coat mare started, noticeably flustered by Zurma's powerful presence. "The alchemy division is on the press... pressa... pressa."

"Precipice?" I added again.

"Yes, precipice of an alchemistical discovery." she concluded.

For a mare who had trouble articulating herself the word 'alchemistical' rolled off her tongue easily enough. I withheld a tiny snicker.

"Zythus' mo... err Chief Alchemist Zoecia has asked for you to collect these reagents from Whitetail so we can finish our experiment."

I turned to Zurma hopefully. I did not know much about alchemy myself, but I knew if my mother were involved it had to be something important.

"Surely you cannot be serious." Zurma responded with incredulity. "This is a dangerous mission into the depths of a monster infested poisoned forest. It is not some schoolfilly's scavenger hunt. Be gone with you!"

"Field Marshal please," she implored.

"Zurma," I interrupted, "If I was to take full responsibly of this would you allow it? I promise I will gather these items so long as it does not interfere with the mission. Sir."

Zurma took a moment to look me over clearly not expecting me to have interjected. "Well well greenstripes. It seems there is a spine somewhere in that worthless sack of meat even if it is from some sorry ass attempt to make your momma proud." she said raising an eye at me.

Ouch. Zurma knew about that. Her words stung.

"This... this has nothing to do with her." I faltered. "If gathering these reagents helps the tribe, then I wish to aid in acquiring them."

I spoke with feigned nobility. I had no real interest on what those items meant to the alchemy division. I had even less interest is impressing my mother. My only thought was this little side quest may impress someone and commute my sentence.

Zurma snatched the list away from the lab coat mare, eyed it only for a moment then slapped it against my chest. "This is your responsibility greenstripes but if you do anything to jeopardize our main objective you will answer to my blade. Understood?"

"Yes sir." She did not have to tell me twice.

*** *** ***

Whitetail was every bit as dreadful as it had been advertised. I was quick to understand the importance of leaving in the middle of the day. The density of the foliage overhead was so thick that it blotted out what little sunlight there was. Had it been any other time of day I doubt I could have seen my own hoof in front of my face. I shuddered feeling like there were a hundred pairs of eyes watching our every move as we plodded down the treacherous dirt paths.

The forest was a cacophony of otherworldly noises as well. Sounds of beasts skittering in the brush, fiendish roars, and eerie howls echoed through the trees. As grim as the scenery was I was experiencing an audio sensory overload.

click.. click.. click..
click.. click.. click.. click.. click..
click.. click.. click.. click..

The rainbow indicator on our PipBucks reminded us of the toxicity of our surroundings through our environmental protection suits. (the powerful radiation permeated deeply!) A stallion nurse working for the medical center injected each of us with a dose of Rad-X before we departed. This was standard procedure for those entering Whitetail. The drug was needed to increase a body's ability to fight of radiation sickness. We each carried several doses of Rad-away as well. These were not simply precaution. They were a necessity.

I trailed behind Zurma for nearly twenty minutes. As we approached a fork in the path she pulled her hoof up calling us to halt. The lost remains of one of our tribesmares lay on its side nestled in a corner of the crossroads. The pale green light of her PipBuck drew Zurma's attention towards the decaying body.

It was first time I had seen death like this. Before this the closest I had been was when I had attended ceremonial pyres in Xenolith. Most of those deaths were those of our elders passing away from natural causes. Seldom was it possible to reclaim the bodies of our warriors whom fell in Whitetail as this gruesome spectacle showed.

"This was field scout Xenon," Zurma intoned observing the signals on the dead mares PipBuck. Xenon had became separated from her scouting detachment over a month ago. This crossroads seemed to have been her final resting place.

Xenon's body was bad state of decomposition. Chunks of fetid meat and sinew hung from her skull and ribs. Her eyes were hollow and empty, and there was no trace of any distinguishable markings. Her protective suit was shredded and mangled beyond any hope of repair. Solemnly Zurma collected what she could salvage from the body. Only a few Rad-aways and a healing potion. There was no trace of her sidearm. It was likely lost in whitetail forever. There was a solemn silence among us as Zurma reclaimed the PipBuck (no tools needed). In her death what she left would be her legacy to the tribe.

"Qlon..," Zurma ordered somberly. "Do it."

I was not sure what she meant until I saw the large framed zebra approach Xenon's corpse. I knelt pointing his flamer saddle at the body. We were performing her last rites.

"Wait!" I shouted in a whisper.

"Look how she died," I continued. there was a little green bud sprouting from what was once Xenon's chest cavity.

"Stranglevine.." Xohar deadpanned.

It was one of the reagents mo... rather Chief Alchemist Zoecia requested us to gather. I gingerly dug into the soil beneath the fallen zebra and I stifled myself to keep from vomiting within my suit. I collected the sapling of the murderous plant and placed it in one of the containers the lab coat mare provided. I backed away and resumed my place in formation.

Qlon's flamer saddle dispensed a gout of liquid fire. The flames quickly encased field scout Xenon's body incinerating her remains. Zebra believed our spirit bodies could not truly be free until severing the tether to our physical bodies. We bathed her body in fire and freed her soul so that she may now graze the Zeal with our ancestors.

We took a moment to honor the deceased, allowed the flames to die out and administered Rad-aways to each of us. We pressed on after securing the area and insuring out impromptu funeral had not attracted any of the local wildlife

Following Zurma's lead our team made our way deeper into Whitetail. The steady clicking of our PipBucks made me uneasy for two reasons. Firstly due to the fact we were soaking in radiation and secondly the clicking hardly seemed very discreet. As raucous as Whitetail was I guess the clicking mostly went unnoticed. Zurma halted our progress again when she heard a rustling in the bushes ahead of us. A red dot popped up on my E.F.S. (Eyes Forward Sparkle) and presumably on my companions as well. Zurma unsheathed her hoofblade and crept forward towards the red light indicated on her PipBuck.

The beavermole thrust out from the underbrush and rushed at Zurma. The beast hissed and charged, diseased saliva pouring out its buck toothed jaws. Thanks to E.F.S. it had not gotten the drop on her. I doubt she even activated her S.A.T.S. when she dove at the beast sinking her hoofblade into its neck. Zurma did not even seem to flinch acting as if she had performed the feat a hundred times. She withdrew the blade and wiped it on the beasts scraggly hide. Zurma then scanned the area from where the monster emerged. Something caught her eye and she beckoned me towards her.

She gestured at a glowing patch just beyond the brush on the side of the road. A cluster of softly white glowing mushrooms rested calmly in the darkness.

"Bright caps." I said.

"I know what they are," Zurma hissed," Just give me the container and I will collect them."

"I thought you said.." I started but was cut off.

"Shut up and give me the damn box." she ordered silently.

I gave her the box and with ghostly silence she approached the patch, scooped the irradiated mushrooms up and somersaulted back onto the path. Her movements were stunning completing the action in a single a liquid motion.

We took another brief pause to take a second dose of Rad-away. The taste was bitter and wholly unpleasant. Even a small swig of sweet honeywine to rinse the foulness from my mouth was all I wished but I knew there was no hope in that. Our radiation back to tolerable levels we proceeded, deeper in the shadows of Whitetail.

It seemed that fortune was with me today. Aside from the stray beavermole we had not encountered any of the other deadly beasts the woodland was said to have. By the time we reached our destination Zora was keen enough to spy sicklelichen encasing a nearby rock embedded in the trail. Qlon came close to tripping over a small rotted stump in the road that held a small patch of leechweed as well. Somehow I had managed to collect all the plant life samples for the alchemy department. Surely the High Priestess would receive a letter from the alchemy labs expressing their gratitude towards me. I breathed a relieved sigh. So far things seemed to be looking up.

*** *** ***

The hive of the rad-bee's was a breathtaking sight. The amber sheen of its walls devoured all things in its path. Tree trunks protruded from the hive from where they were consumed by the bees' construction. The droning hum of the worker bees toiling inside was strangely calming. It was much louder but similar to the sounds of the Stable. Zurma cased the dome shaped hive diligently and came across a hoof sized aperture in the structure. She motioned Zora to her.

"Here." Zurma whispered.

"You got it." Zora cheered. "Umm, Sir."

Zora aligned the barrel of her smoker saddle (which was a modified and de-weaponized flamer saddle) with the hole and dispensed a plume of smoke into the massive yellow dome. Smoke was used to cause the bees to go into a calmer feeding state. Workers became far less aggressive and allowed the team to do their work without bringing undue harm to themselves or the bees. Once the smoke pacified the nearby drones Xohar and Zurma began work carving out a hole large enough for us to enter. Zora kept up our smoke cover and Qlon stood guard.

Almost two hours had passed since our team had entered Whitetail. The entrance to the hive was now large enough for a zebra to fit through. Zurma updated us that we were behind schedule much to her disapproval (my fault I know). We would only have about an hour to scavenge as much honeycomb as we could before we needed to begin our return journey to Xenolith.

The interior was only large enough for three. Zora had to go in to maintain the smoke cloud. Zurma collected the honeycomb aided by Qlon and Xohar who took shifts between gathering and standing guard outside. I was not allowed in. This was probably in no small part due the fact I had no idea how to forage honey, was still harnessed to the wagon, and was by and large the most expendable member of the party. I sat outside like I was just waiting to get stung to death or eaten alive.

*** *** ***

Xohar exited the smoky hive after his second shift inside and emptied a load of honeycomb into my wagon.

"My turn already?" Qlon smiled. "At the rate we will fill this wagon in no time at all." Qlon made way for Xohar to take his place. "Okay Zythus, Xohar, I will not be long." Qlon was entirely too cheerful for our setting. It was just his demeanor but I found it disturbingly out of place here rather than encouraging.

Xohar just nodded. As Qlon reentered the hive.

It was more or less pointless to try to strike up dialogue with Xohar. He barely spoke to his own team and I doubted the stoic stallion would be interested in a conversation with me. Qlon and I had a short discourse about fatherhood before Xohar came out. He told me how lucky I was to have Xanthe as he was raising his little filly on his own. Being a single parent and being in the military had to be quite strenuous. He never mentioned anything about the filly's mother but and though I was curious I knew I had no right to ask.

Standing here quietly with Xohar was just as well. There was no need to force idle chatter and risk alerting the attention of anything that might be stalking nearby. I had nearly finished the thought when a second beavermole slogged by. I tensed but it had not noticed us.

Pfooot Pfooot Pfooot

The three shots from Xohar's silenced carbine battle saddle barely were audible over the droning of the bees. Blood and bone spewed from the monster's gruesome brainpan and it slumped to the ground. Xohar stood wordless clearly unimpressed. He acted like it was nothing but I still felt ill after watching the beast die. It was just another reminder I was a soft skinned mead brewer amidst a group of hardened warriors.

I took note of Xohar's custom weapon with a bit of interest. Conventional suppressors despite common belief only mildly quieted a firearm's often deafening bangs. This was zebra alchemy at work again. The alchemy augmented suppressor almost completely eliminated the noise reducing it to a faint chirp.

Thick smoke began billowing out of the hive shortly after the beavermole display. Qlon ducked his head out, "Xohar, Zora is having some trouble with the smoker. Can you come take a look at it?"

Xohar gave a small shrug and swapped out with Qlon again stepping lightly into the dense black cloud pouring from the entrance.

"Smoker is malfunctioning." Qlon informed me, "Zora says the dispenser relay is damaged, but I am sure Xohar and Zurma will get it running properly soon." he said confident in his team members.

Qlon stood sternly for a moment by my side by the hive. I started to feel queasy nervousness. We had been out here for so long I wondered how they could stand the incessant buzzing. It was starting to get to me and I just wanted more than anything to get away from it.

Qlon raised his head looking out into the dark path we had traveled. The buff stallion was staring into the depths of Whitetail looking almost profound.

"Zythus do you ever think..."

Qlon's words were cut short by the sharp clink of breaking glass.

I turned to acknowledge him but my face went pale and I lost my breath. Blood splattered against the interior of his cracked visor. My heart stopped my mind froze. Qlon was dead before his mighty frame crashed to the ground.

I wanted to call for help but words were lost to me. I knelt beside him pushing my hoof against his side just begging for this to just some kind be a nightmare. Had I nodded off? Boredom and the humming of the bees put me to sleep and this was just a dream.

However the stallion did not rise. Blood oozed out of his broken visor as his body laid still on the forest floor. Tears began to well in my eyes.

Qlon was dead. He really was dead! I looked over the body and saw blood trickle from a hole in his suit behind his head. Qlon had been shot.

The shock of this revelation turned to further terror. What about the others? I wrestled with the wagon harness to get free. The honeycomb we had worked and risked our lives for spilled to the ground as I bucked futilely. Could I warn them? Was it too late? Only one of us carried the style of weapon that could do this.

As I was struggling I turned to look inside to see the smoke beginning to part. My terrifying thoughts had manifested as reality as Xohar stood pointing his carbine at me solemnly. The bodies of Zora and Zurma lay behind him, motionless.

"Why?" I whimpered, tears falling from my eyes.

Xohar fixated on me, "We all must do what is best for the tribe."

I fell to my haunches stupefied. "How.. How could murdering your friends be what is best for our tribe?" I screamed starting to hyperventilate.

"Friends?" the tall stallion remarked. "Qlon, Zora, and I were members of Zurma's detachment. We were not friends," he digressed. "I do feel the pain of their loss. They were good, strong soldiers and companions."

"Then why?"

"It is like I said," he intoned. "We all must do what is best for the tribe. That is more that I can say for you or your parents Zythus."

"What do they have to do with anything? What could they have done to warrant killing your own comrades?"

Xohar sighed, "There is so much you do not see living in your tiny little inebriated world young stallion. I know it is not much consolation but you should know it brings me no pleasure to have killed them just as I will you."

Xohar is going to kill me too? What the hell is going on?

"Your parent's actions have been a threat to us Zythus. They have become broken cogs in our machine. Unfortunately for you however they are too valuable and cannot simply be replaced. The death of their derelict son, having botched our mission into Whitetail resulting in the death of my commanding officer and two of her subordinates, will remind Xyxtus and Zoecia to not deviate from our tribes interests."

"And why would they change for you now?" I tried to say gasping between breaths. "If they believe you killed me why would they change if they know you are not willing to target them?"

"Because Zythus, you are not the only leverage against them." he deadpanned. "If they are foalish enough not to learn from this example the next target would be their grandchildren."

My soul crumbled. Xohar had no qualms against killing me and then resorting to threaten my own foals to get my parents cooperation. What could they be involved in that would drive someone to this level of ruthlessness?

"You... you monster..." I uttered gravely lowering my head. "Kill me if you have to but do not harm my sons."

"There is no need for labels and senseless drama Zythus. I will pray once your spirit has passed you will have the clari.," his sentence abruptly ended. Zurma had somehow came back to life and tackled Xohar shallowly stabbing his shoulder with her hoofblade.

Xenon's healing potion had saved her.

"If you planned on betraying me," Zurma growled, "you should have made sure I could have never gotten up!"

"Zurma..." Xohar groaned bucking her off. Her body landed squarely next to where I stood.

Zurma was quickly back on her hooves and I found the wound where Xohar had shot piercing her chest. The potion must have mitigated most of the damage but she was still losing blood. The bees surrounding Zora's limp body began to stir starting to break out of their catatonic state. The cluster of green blips on my E.F.S. began flickering to yellow and once the bees awoke they would be a sea of red. Our battlefield had just become a time bomb.

Xohar regained himself quickly as well. I could see red leaking from gash Zurma left in his suit. He stabilized himself and turned his carbine at Zurma and me.

"Cover your eyes." I whispered.

There was a brief high pitched squeal from my PipBuck and the overcharged lamp spell fired a blinding burst of light. Xohar staggered from the flash and the shot from his rifle fell short puncturing the tank on the late Qlon's battle saddle. Flamer fuel leaked onto the ground around all of us.

Zurma saw the opening and instinctively charged. At close range Xohar's carbine would be little good against her hoofblade.

Xohar regained himself just in time to lock forehooves with Zurma. I had to try to help her. With the two of them engaged I needed to get loose from the wagon and fast. I struggled to free myself from the heavy harness once again.

Zurma was a master of hoof to hoof combat but Xohar was very skilled himself. With both of them wounded no victory for either could be assured. I was dazzled by the two of them despite the increasing severity of our situation. I was not really trying to admire the martial art styles but the fluidity of their motions captivated me. Two zebras locked in combat, the masterful movements the demonstrated were like a dance.

The rad-bees were waking. Blips of red began dotting my PipBuck. With a desperate push I forced myself free the harness and fell to my back. I looked back up to see Xohar land a devastating buck to Zurma's chest. Her limp body rag-dolled through the opening to the amber dome. Xohar's bleeding body, having sustained multiple stab wounds, lurched towards Zurma's reeling frame, ready to deal the final blow. A final point blank shot from his battle saddle to end this.

Xohar stood over his former commander wearily, "I am... sorry," he rasped coughing blood," I have... always... respected you sir."

Zurma craned her neck to see me finally free from the wagon.

"Get... out..," she gasped blood spilling from her lips.

Xohar bit down on the carbines trigger but Zurma threw her forehoof at Qlon's. The carbine chirped, and the flamer saddle let out a faint spark. Zurma died and a plume of fire erupted from beneath her. I dove away from the blast as fire consumed the bodies of Zurma and her subordinates. The hive exploded with the sound of thousands of rad-bees pouring out to escape the blaze.

I turned and ran fueled by shock and disbelief.

Unfortunately the insects gave chase. I galloped as fast as I could through Whitetail with a massive swarm on my tail. In the wildest of my dreams I could never have imagined something as absurd as being chased through the woods by a swarm of murderous bees.

I approached the charred crossroads where we had found the remains of field scout Xenon's body. At least I was on the right track. I raced and dove into a bush near the intersection with a burst of speed. If I could only get to my cloak.

The rad-bee's were closing in. I bucked off my saddlebag and my hooves dug inside. I pinned the enchanted robe between my hooves and hurled it over my body in time to hear the ferocious swarm overhead.

?!

Moments later the buzzing faded. I had not heard buzzing in so long I had already forgotten how loud the rest of Whitetail actually was. I could hear my heart thumping, I gasped for breath having run faster and further than I had ever before. The sunlight was almost gone and I needed to get to Xenolith before the nocturnal monsters came out to hunt. I tried to stand but quickly fell back to my haunches from the pain.

One had got me. The dagger like stinger was lodged in my flank just over my hip. I struggled to get back onto my hooves and went to take a much needed Rad-away but damn-it-all Xohar had all the medical supplies. Judging by how long it took us to get this far I should not be far away from Xenolith. I slid my saddlebag onto my back and under the sheath of my invisibility cloak I trotted unsteadily back towards home.

*** *** ***

The events that followed are unclear to me. My hind leg had become paralyzed and I collapsed on the path just as I saw the torches from Xenolith come into view. I vaguely remembered bright lights and inaudible whispers. It was like waking from a dream and only having scarce recollection of what, if anything, had happened.

I awoke on a heavily worn mattress. It was sitting on the floor of an unfamiliar little one room shack. It was crudely fastened together from metal scraps that could have come from heaven knows where. Soft light peered through the window letting me know it was morning. I glanced outside to get my bearings but could not tell where I was. I checked the time on my PipBuck. Judging by the time I had been unconscious for a little more than a day. Then I noticed my PipBuck had been tampered with. Nothing seemed wrong with it though. In fact it appeared to be in better condition than usual. The only noticeable difference was that there was an additional connection port installed onto the side closest to my hoof.

Suddenly my thoughts kicked into high speed. Xanthe! My foals! Were they in danger? I needed to get to them. What about Whitetail? I need to tell the High Priestess what happened to Zurma. Mother, Father what is going on that caused Xohar to do all this?

"Relax! Panicking will not getting you anywhere." a deep voice warned. I looked around but there was no one there.

Was I going crazy? Am I hearing voices now?

I got to my hooves to see if I could figure out where I was and what was going on. The shack was mostly empty. There was just the mattress, a rusty old filing cabinet, and a dingy metal desk. My saddlebags had been brought along with me here too and were set curiously on the desk. Sitting next to them was an ominous looking audio log.

'Find Hornet' were cryptically scribbled on the logs casing.

This was where my quest truly began. I sat at the starting point of my perilous journey across the Equestrian wasteland. I had no idea while I was sitting alone in that little shack what my destiny was, but I had a feeling this log contained the first step.

I could have lived a thousand years in Xenolith and never dreamed of what fate had in store for me. I would make some friends and would encounter numerous enemies. I would discover a world full of horror and splendor. I would face countless challenges and all of the fears the wasteland had to offer but the worst fear was the one that echoed out to us from centuries past...

...Xenophobia

Footnote: Level Up.
New Perk: Tribal Wisdom -- 50% limb damage from animals, mutated animals, and mutated insects, +25% to Poison resistance, ability to cook and eat mutated insects into clean, rads-free meals.

Author's Note

Can also be found on google docs.

https://docs.google.com/folder/d/0B3y9cd0SF5qmZXBXdk9GSUFUek0/edit?usp=sharing