Scythe limped along as they reached the haze filled town. Most the buildings were brick, and were worn to dilapidation from the balefire bombings and centuries of abandonment. The worn stone roads seemed to be mostly intact. The weathered stones led them through the long since forgotten town. Doors hang off their hinges, roofs sagged, cottages were barely more than skeletons of a home, and remnants of pony life lay all over the streets. Skeletons of every size were strewn throughout the streets of Paintburg’s past civilization. It looked as if the ponies not admitted to Stable 24 scrambled across Paintburg in a frenzy before the blast from Manehatten hit the nearby town.

As they walked through the town, a shop sat on the outer road they were on. The windows were boarded up and the door was smashed in. The circular building had a large sign above the store.

“Ruby Mox Gemology?” Lollimint read the sign aloud.

“An old, broken down, jewelry store? Not any use out here,” Scythe remarked.

The trio continued through the broken down town. It was beginning to rub them the wrong way how deserted this place was. These buildings seemed to be holding up well. Why weren’t there more wasteland ponies here? Scythe would not stop. Even with his injuries, he was dead set on wandering Paintburg all night.

Working up some nerve, Lollimint whispers, “Where are we going?”

“This may be my only chance to see the final home of my ancestors. If only this place wasn’t so destroyed,” Scythe replied.

“If memory serves, we learned in school our stable was located near a town outside Manehatten, which was the epicenter of a balefire bomb,” Lollimint commented.

“Then we should count our blessings the radiation of that bomb isn’t even making this town do more than give a faint click now and again,” Scythe said, with a click from the pipbuck to drive his words home.

Lollimint held back any further questions. This town was very unsettling. Why didn’t they see more ponies? Was there so few wasteland ponies, or is there something here she isn’t seeing? Whatever is holding this town as a deserted shell of its past, it didn’t seem to bother Scythe. All that crazed stallion cares about is his ancestor he idolizes like a goddess. Lollimint was so into her internal grumbling; she didn’t notice Scythe stop at a blackened brick building.

They had walked to the far side of town. Paintburg surely was a small town when it was alive. Scythe stared up at this brick house with awe. The house looked almost forlornly down at them, as if it was beginning to fall into disrepair before the war. Scythe gingerly pushed the door open. It creaked and shook on its hinges as he moved it. Scythe smiled wide as he flicked on an illumination spell from his horn.

“This is it. We will stay here for the night. We have Belldam’s protection as we rest here,” Scythe said as he barely held back prancing in onto the cracked linoleum floor.

Lollimint cautiously followed his lead as she asked, “Why do you feel she will protect us here?”

“Because, this was her home,” Scythe replied as he walked into the adjoining living room.

The trio slowly eased into the home of the long since dead goddess. Lollimint gently closed the weakened wood door. The living room floor was covered in tattered carpet. The patches intact were matted and mildewing. The couches sagged with age and were terribly dirty. The smoky grey light of Scythe’s horn set a depressing mood. Crisp bounced from couch to couch, making dust clouds puff to life. The couches creaked under the pressure of the colt repeatedly bouncing on them. Crisp them stopped on the middle couch and rested on the sagging cushion. As they stood in the room, an odd noise became faintly more acute to their ears.

Scythe and Lollimint crept into the inner hallway in search of the source. On the back wall was a door just barely visible in the darkness. Two heavy wooden rafters from the ceiling above had fallen in an intersecting pattern over the door. The noise was coming from behind this door. It was a very strange noise. It sounded like the thud of wood hitting wood in a hoof stepping pattern, a slightly off kilter hoofstep pattern. The mechanical whine of old machinery was heard with the sound of wood rubbing against itself. Lollimint shivered as one mechanical whine sounded almost like a whinny. Scythe’s ear twitched at the noise. His horn burned a bit at the same instance. His horn had been faintly burning ever since they emerged from the stable. At first, he thought it was just the air; this proved his sneaking suspicion. The burning in his horn had increased as they moved through the town. More than half the reason he was able to locate this house was the burning.

“Scythe, what is making that awful noise?” Lollimint whispered.

Scythe looked to her and whispered, “I can’t be sure what it is. But, I have heard rumors of why the All-Mother was executed. They say she would kidnap ponies and making living dolls out of them. Somehow, these dolls were rumored to trap the pony’s soul within it.”

“Wait, are you saying there might be a bunch of living pony dolls down there?!” Lollimint whispered in a slight panic.

“I couldn’t say for sure. Maybe there is, or maybe that is some other horror of the wasteland. Personally, I think whatever it is should be kept behind that blocked door,” Scythe replied.

Lollimint nodded and the two began checking the rest of the house. The kitchen was the only room left on the ground level, aside from wherever the blocked door led. Lollimint searched the ancient wooden cupboard for anything they could salvage. Aside from some cereal and heavily preserved instant foods, not much of the food supplies were salvageable. The long since malfunctioned fridge held a couple of Sunrise Saspirellas inside.

Scythe, testing each aged step, ascended to the second floor. This floor was small on rooms. To the south of the staircase was a bathroom. It was moderately sized. Being the only bathroom in the house, it was large enough to house atleast two full grown ponies comfortably. The years in the wasteland’s care had turned most of the white porcelain to a dingy or almost blackened complexion. Ticks of radiation came from the water still dripping from the sink in a melancholy-like fashion. Scythe pondered, if he could find the water access, if he could use the stable’s talisman to purify the water enough to make it usable for a short time. He mulled this thought in his mind as he left to check the other rooms.

The room to the far right was a bedroom. By the looks of it, it was mostly a guest room, or a room reserved for an older foal. Wallpaper peeled from the brick walls. The carpet suffered a similar fate as the living room one. A dresser sat in the right corner, in almost utter disrepair. The bed at the far wall sagged with age. The linens and pillow were mildly tattered from the elements, but were mostly intact and dusty. This, though a good sign to see, was concerning. If there were other ponies in the wasteland, why hadn't they come here? This town wasn't that far away from that road. You would think this house would show more signs of scavenging; or at least Scythe thought it should. He dismissed this with the fact the sounds from the blocked door might make ponies poking around less appealed with searching the home.

The last room faced the exit of the stairs. It was a massive room that had a window overlooking the main street. The walls were lined with bookshelves. The books themselves were mostly mildewed or rotted away with age. A desk with scattered papers and a monitor sat along one of the walls. Scythe looked a moment more at the monitor that was emitting a green glow before he turned to the large window. Under it was a fairly decent sized bed, with room for two ponies to rest comfortable without worrying about disturbing their sleeping partner. These linens and pillows looked only slightly better kept than the last bedroom. Knowing who had lived here before, Scythe shook with glee at knowing who had once rested here. This had been where the All-Mother had resided during her life. This is where Belldam rested her weary head after she had practiced her craft on ponies she felt had deserved punishment above the standards of Equestrian law.

Scythe limped enthusiastically to the monitor now. This had been her computer. Thinking back to his history classes in the stable, it felt strange for it to be here. Computers were only just beginning to reach commercial use for the common pony populace when the bombing occurred. Why did Belldam have one? Had it belonged to her son, Even Heart, before he entered the stable? How did ponies with no ties to a government office obtain one? Scythe had to know why! He began ticking away at a keyboard he found under some strewn papers. It took four times to get into the main system. It would have been longer or not possible at all, if he didn’t know so much about the possible previous owners.

“Dandy Spark…” Scythe said, reflecting on the password.

That name…He had only seen it in one place. When he was gathering things to leave the stable, Scythe had found one of the few items Father Even Heart had brought with him. It was a picture of his parents before his birth, before their minds had been swallowed by the madness all those devote in The Order of Belldam have. A shyly smiling blue grey unicorn stallion that looked like he needed sleep, sitting next to a smaller red earth pony mare, wearing a smile as vibrant as her tri-color hair. These two would come to be known in the order as Hollow Husk and Belldam, the dark masters of justice born through madness. On the back of the photo held their true names, the names they were given as foals by loving mothers. Hollow Husk being known as Lunar Dusk, and Belldam being known as Dandy Spark, these names had been abandoned once madness had swallowed their minds.

Not questioning the silliness of making your name a password, Scythe began combing the computer for something about his goddess ancestor. His eyes lit up at a folder label, “Important stuff.” He soon realized the “important stuff” was a large amount of files on stories written by Dandy Spark and notes on when deadlines were. His enthusiasm sank as he flicked though story after story. The parts he skimmed over were decently written. It was safe to say Dandy Spark had applied her talents as an author by trade. It was interesting that an author became a pony capable of murdering ponies and making living dolls from their remains and other materials. How did an earth pony accomplish that? That was a question Scythe would love the answer to.

A few more hours of shuffling through files, and Scythe was almost bored with the silly video footage of adventures Dandy had apparently recorded as a form of video diary. A few entries involving Princess Luna were confusing. She had a surprising amount of close encounters with the moon princess, some good and some bad. He did find the computer had been a gift from a family member working in the Manehatten division of the Ministry of Arcane Science. He had only kept watching them because, as the entries went on, some video recordings were of Belldam talking to Hollow Husk and beginning to emerge from Dandy’s psyche.

He barely nodded in response to Lollimint popping her head in to check on him. He must have had a facial expression that explained he wasn’t ready to be disturbed quite yet; because she merely left some apples and a bit of the ancient cereal in a surprisingly clean bowl next to him before retreating elsewhere. He idly picked at his meal as he gave the computer a final once over. That was when he found something he almost missed.

Hidden in a jumble of different files, was another diary log. Why had these logs been separated? Scythe opened the log to find a series of written accounts of what he really wanted. The file had many written accounts of Belldam after she rose to the dominant psyche, demise, and even some from Even Heart after her death. He cherished every reading. Some logs were more disturbing than others. Three stuck out the most.

Entry 345:

I have been in permanent control of my body for several months now. It has been a struggle that becomes easier each passing day. Dandy is lost to this world now. I still act like her in public, to sway suspicion, but it is good to not actually forfeit control to that weak mare. I had to make many sacrifices along the way, I will admit. I only finished one that I took great care to take time on. I always loved Dandy’s cat, Cowtaloo. The poor beast had his best years behind him. But, a creature that full of hate for other creatures, but loved purring while watching me work deserved better. Right? I do feel guilty for doing my craft on an innocent soul. But, I put a lot of love into it. I gave him so much free will in his new form. He is the first animal besides a pony I made into a living doll. He seems to be adjusting well. I even used a hardwood that had spots in it, to mimic his natural coat. I feel more at ease that my feline companion will not leave my side now.

Entry 1500:

I sense my days are numbered. Luna, the blasted moon princess, has been skulking the skies more often. She was always hard to fool. How that bumbling twit Dandy, made an ally out of her I will never know. One thing is for sure, she was never easy to fool with pretending to be Dandy. I do have to admit, between Even Heart and I both practicing our craft, she has had plenty of reason to snoop around Paintburg. I won’t try to run. She will find me. I am not ashamed of what I have done. I only fear for Even Heart. Hollow will follow me to the grave, but our son does not need to follow us. He was born for this! He must be protected to carry on this craft, our form of justice. I don’t know how yet; but I must find a way to throw the night princess off his trail. I got to make her believe he is just a scared foal from a troubled home. Those princesses have always been soft-hearted.

Entry: 1501:

Mother…is gone. I don’t know how they did it, but The Ministry of Morale busted in a month ago and took my parents. I can’t believe I managed to survive their interrogations without revealing I had involvement in their acts. Probably were distracted by the uproar from mother’s interrogations next door. There was a lot of screaming out of nowhere, a loud bang, and gurgled laughter from my mother. Judging by the shuffling and shouts to pull somepony back, the gurgling was mother laughing through blood from being assaulted. Her madness truly numbed her through the whole affair. She held a smug smile even as they hanged her in the village square. She…she was proud of what she was. They called her a monster! But, she was amazing and awe-inspiring. It’s just me now. Well, Cowtaloo and myself. The mechanical cat managed to be away during the time of the raid. He is all I have left. A mechanical living doll with the spirit of my mother’s cat is all I have left of my family.

Scythe paused after reading the last entry. Something was making noise in the room. It was soft, but it had been there while he was reading the last few entries. It sounded like the paddles of a pin wheel when you blew upon it. But, this was a consistent noise. There wasn’t enough wind passing through this building for it to be this consistent. Scythe turned from his spot to look about the dark room. A rustle of the linens near the floor caught his eye.

“Mrrooow?” a soft noise came afterwards. Scythe almost soiled himself at that sound.

Slowly, a small, wooden, head poked out from under the bed, a pair of feline mechanical ears twitching from side to side. The mechanized parts moved silently, as if the work of a master craftspony. Indeed, what did emerge slowly from under the bed was made by a master of her craft. The spotted wood of Cowtaloo’s body slowly slinked out from under the bed. The joints that allowed his tail to swish freely swayed as he scanned the room. The joints of the different parts mirror major joints of feline anatomy, proving to give the cat optimal mobility. Cowtaloo made a head motion like he was sniffing the air. But, Scythe felt no matter the phenomenon, a wooden cat couldn’t really have a sense of smell.

“Mrrrrrow,” Cowtaloo called again as he scampered to Scythe’s side and profusely rubbed against his leg.

Scythe couldn’t begin to fathom why this creature was being so friendly to him. He had just read this cat hated everypony it met. A sinking feeling filled his chest as a thought did hit him. He had been praised for resembling Belldam. This…was her cat. In this darkness, and no sense of smell, he might as well be Cowtaloo’s long dead mistress. Scythe now pitied the small wonder of his ancestor. This creature came out because it thought its owner had finally returned. A cat locked in an eternal body couldn’t understand that years have long since passed since he was a mortal cat. Cowtaloo was beyond understanding he had outlived his owner, and had waited in this house for her to come home. He waited for her to take him away from this ruined house and town. Poor thing probably didn’t remember that much by now and was just happy to see a pony that resembled his owner, let alone another living soul.

Scythe sat down and embraced the feline. It meowed and purred as it twisted about at the attention it sorely missed. Scythe felt horrible for the cat. It was alone in the world. Cowtaloo didn’t have anypony like Crisp or Lollimint. This cat had lived a solitary existence, in a shattered house, millions of cat lifespans longer than he was ever meant to live. Belldam must weep wherever her spirit may be for her lost companion. Cowtaloo deserved better, but there probably wasn’t anything better than prowling his ruined domain for eternity.

After a few moments, Cowtaloo grew bored with the affection. In true feline fashion, once he had an endless supply of what he was after, it no longer mattered to him at all. Cowtaloo bounced out of Scythe grasp and went to patrol his house. “EEEK!” came from just outside the door. Scythe sighed as he got up to check on Lollimint. No doubt the cat doll had scared her as it left the room.

Judging by the horrified expression she had, Cowtaloo had indeed sufficiently scared her. Scythe didn’t bother with that. He was more curious about her appearance. She looked…clean. She was walking about without her stable shirt with a freshly washed hide. Her usually full curls were slumped down from water. Scythe didn’t recall hearing it rain at all.

“What was that?!” she shouted
.
“Don’t worry about it,” Scythe replied.

“Don’t worry about it?!” Lollimint exclaimed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Scythe repeated before commenting, “You look like you just walked out of the shower. Why?”

Lollimint flinched at the derailed train of thought and smiled before replying, “Oh, that’s because I did just walked out of the shower. While you were fiddling with that computer for hours, Crisp and I managed to get the talisman to hook up to the water supply. After some time, the shower was able to recycle the water to a pure source.”

“You made a clean water supply?” Scythe asked.

“Well, Crisp mostly. He has quite a knack for mechanical stuff, might be his talent in the future. But, yes, we did. Crisp is using it right now,” Lollimint explained.

Scythe smiled and said, “Good work to you two. We could use a clean water source; since we are gonna hold up here for a while.”

“When you say a while, how long is that? This place isn’t exactly an ideal permanent home,” Lollimint asked.

“The rest of the night. We need sleep. That room over there will do nicely,” Scythe said as he pointed to the guest bedroom.

“But, the room you have been in is a better room,” Lollimint grumbled.

“It is also the room of Belldam. I will not have ponies sleeping in the All-Mother’s bed,” Scythe replied.

“UGH! You and your family religion,” Lollimint groaned.

Lollimint didn’t want to argue the point farther. She had learned by now that Scythe was a very stubborn pony in his crazy beliefs. She turned from him and headed to the guest room. She might as well try and divide the linens between them equally. Scythe took the time to watch her freshly clean flanks pass him. He then limped towards the bathroom, with a yelp from Lollimint as he smacked her rump with his tail.

Author's Note

many apologies for being so late with this chapter. I had alot of work to do.