Alone
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Starlit Desert Nights

Alone

Twilight had always been rather sensitive to sudden changes in momentum. So, a tiny change in speed was enough to wake her from her sleep. We can't possibly be there already, can we? She looked through the car to the next to see the blue car in front of her was slowly drifting farther and farther away. She looked all around for the source of the disturbance, spinning every direction and checking, double and triple-checking every line of sight she had out the caboose's small platform that was open to the air. Then, with growing realization and despair, she looked up.

A weight like a colossus's footstep slammed into her. She could just make out the shine of metal through the feathers that (along with the stench of stale sweat and meat) identified her assailant as one of the Gryphnesian Strikers. She had read about them- they were technically in the employ of the Griffon King, but took mercenary work on the side. They were some of Gryphnes's most elite soldiers- so what were they doing attacking her?

"How are ya, little filly? Hope you don't mind little ole me dropping in unannounced. Someone has paid a pretty price for yer purple-maned head, and I'll make sure I- not that useless captain- gets the bounty." The creature chuckled grimly.

"Oh, will you now?" Twilight regained her strength, magic, and mental celerity all at once. She heaved the griffon- armor and all- into the air, surprising herself with her newfound strength. The griffon, taken by surprise, had no time to unfurl its wings, and crashed into the ground at exactly the speed her train was traveling. Taking no chances, she hurled a prodigious fireball straight at the inert form of the griffon before turning her attention to the rest.

There were now twenty-nine griffons in the air- at the head of them, a griffon who was quite a bit larger than the rest with black and red braids woven into the white feathers on his head. They all were clad in magnificent steel armor, wielding wicked-looking halberds and shortswords belted to their hindlegs. The griffon with the braids was holding no axe, but a mighty war-spear that could have been nine or ten feet long. At a motion from him, the rest of the column dropped straight for her. She barely had time to put up a shield around herself when the first ten attacked. The ward held- barely- and Twilight felt safe enough to retaliate.

Muttering ancient words of power under her breath, she gathered black stormclouds in the air far ahead. The spell was particularly taxing in such dry conditions, and she was not sure she could gather enough for her purposes, but once again, she surprised herself with her newly-gained magical might from transforming into an Alicorn. Out of thin air, stormclouds grew, sucking up moisture from their surroundings. Then, with an ear-splitting CRACK!- thunder fried at least half of the griffons in a single bolt. Twilight sagged, already tiring.

The car was rounding a corner over a steep drop, perhaps some twenty fathoms to the sandy floor below. They were on the edge of the San Palomino desert- a massive wilderness of sand dunes that stretched across much of southwest Equestria. Twilight gathered all of her power for another mighty strike.

High above, the Captain saw the purple glow around the alicorn and realized that if he didn't do something, the rest of his platoon would all be cinders. Quicker than a dart, he sped ahead of the small red caboose to the rails guiding it. The rain soaked the ground, making his task easier. With all his considerable strength, he ripped a large section of track out of the ground- on the side facing the cliff.

Even when losing momentum, the caboose was going fast. Fast enough that when it rounded the sharpest bend yet along the cliff, even a small bit of loose track was enough.

Twilight was concentrating so intently on casting a second lightning-bolt that it took her several seconds to realize what was happening. And when she had, it was already too late. In desperation she tried to slow her fall, but without preparation she made a reprehensible error. Instead of simply lifting herself away, she attempted to slow the fall of the entire car. Already exhausted by the gathering of the clouds and with the great speed and mass the train car had behind it, she barely managed to slow the car for a second before she hurtled into the abyss.

Rainbow Dash heard the crash as she was settling down to sleep. At first she thought it was her imagination, for it was far-off. Then, a second, far louder clatter- the sound of metal breaking against rock, gears shrieking in agony and the tinny crunch of bending iron- told her that what had happened was real, and that it was very, very serious. As fast as she could, she ran to the back of the train and stopped dead. The caboose had vanished.

Twillight was gone.

Twilight Sparkle awoke at the same time Rainbow Dash was spreading the terrible news of her disappearance. The first thing she noticed was that she appeared to be partially covered in sand. The second was that there was a sharp, shooting pain in her left wing. She opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn't. The desert wind blew stinging grit into her eyes, and Twilight turned her head away from the wind, blinking for several seconds to clear out the grime. She turned back, shielding her eye with her wings this time, and investigate the cause of the pain in her other wing. It did not take long to find out.

Twilight had fallen out of the cupola when the train crashed to the desert floor. Perhaps she was lucky only to have sustained only as much damage as she had. The caboose was crushing her wing. Unless she got it out soon, it would be useless. She tried lifting the car, but it was no good. Her magic was exhausted. She scrabbled at the sand, but could not remove enough to pull her wing out before the sand refilled it. She stopped. Am I going to die here, not being able to move? Will I slowly drown in sand and let the desert hide my remains? She felt her body functions slow, cooling with the night air. Over the crest of the dune she saw Luna's crescent moon rise over the desert. In the night, the place was beautiful- no ponies within sight. The dunes spread to every horizon, undisturbed. Not such a bad place to die.

Except Twilight Sparkle had no intention of giving up. With the greatest effort it had ever taken to cast a single spell, she gathered energy from every corner of her being and channeled it through her horn. The sand beneath her crushed wing flew out over the dune, and before the car could re-settle she pulled her limb out from under it and rolled as far away as she could.

She took a moment, now she was standing up, to assess damage. Her wing was bruised and bloody, and when she raised a hoof to her head it came away with warm, viscid blood. All in all, she could be worse off. She walked into the caboose. Her willingness to read any book on any topic helped her once again, as some time before she had leafed through a pamphlet on desert survival. First things first- she needed insulation. Deserts had both extremes of temperature, so she needed something to keep her warm in the night and keep off the sun in the day. She chose a bleached white bedsheet from a crewmember's cot, and fashioned it into a sort of cloak. She knew little of the towns and villages in the desert, but there were a few. She tried to conjure up an image of a desert map in her head, but was too tired with the events of the day.

Another painful twinge from her ruined wing reminded her of something important. I can't let them follow me. No blood trails, no feathers... at least with the wind I don't need to cover up hoofprints. She bound her head with a strip of cloth, torn from another sheet, and did the same with her wing. It was uncomfortable, with the stinging pain of the open wound seemingly magnified by contact, and feeling like her wing was tearing all over when her wing or the cloth binding it shifted, but it did its job. She decided to hide her other wing, as well- the desert was lawless and the last thing she needed was to be recognized as royalty and held for ransom.

She gathered up some more survival tools and placed them in a small strip of weathered leather, which she secured about her middle and made a belt out of it. She found a knife, piece of flint and iron, a small packet of coins, and a section of rope. You never know when you're going to need rope.

As she was stumbling out of the car for what she had hoped to be the final time, a realization hit her like a tidal wave. No water. No water. She had searched every inch of the cabin twice for anything she might need or want, but had not found a drop of water- the place was bone dry. She sighed, knowing with her level of exhaustion that nothing could be done about it, and prepared to trek onwards.

She was entirely unaware that, in her haste to vacate the wreckage in case the griffons found her, she left a single purple feather sticking up from under the splintered remains of the train that was not entirely lost to the desert.

The griffon’s captain, Talon, was busy. First, he buried the dead remains of his comrades in the sand below the cliff, respectfully placing the weapons in their grip, as griffon burial custom dictated. He spared not a thought for the one that disobeyed his orders, merely booting him off the tracks and tossing his weapons and armor off the escarpment. He checked his soldiers for injury, and once satisfied that his remaining 15 subordinates were fine, if somewhat rattled by the Alicorn’s unexpected strength. Needless to say, none had never fought Equestrian royalty before, and some were regretting taking the chance.

They flew down into the dunes, silent as the night around them. Landing in the sand with as little force as possible, they proceeded to search the wreckage. They saw ripped bedsheets, broken glasses, bent metal, but not a single thing that gave them a trail. Talon smiled- so it was to be a hunt, was it? There was not a single thing in the world, other than his child’s look as he returned home, that he enjoyed more than a hunt. The thrill of stalking prey across wilderness, gathering evidence, and the rush after the kill.

This was turning out to be a tougher one. He had expected the alicorn to be a pushover, but she had a good head on her shoulders- knowledge his employer, perhaps knowingly, ‘forgot’ to impart to him. She had hidden her tracks well, no blood, and had not used her magic for gathering supplies, which would have left telltale traces that a griffon shaman could detect. Talon could not help but feel approval for the pony- she was good.

Admiration notwithstanding, he was getting impatient. He wanted to be getting on with the hunt, and winging swiftly back to Gryphnes- he was not prepared for desert survival with his current gear. When he got back, he was demanding one hell of a tip.

He searched every inch of the wreckage once, twice, three times, and still could find nothing. He was considering giving up and searching at random when something out of place caught his eye, right at the edge of the caboose’s splintered frame. A tiny mound of sand that had not settled exactly how the wind dictated it should. Excited, he scrabbled at the dune for a moment before unearthing a small, purple feather. He raised it over his head triumphantly for a moment, flushed with success, before regaining composure. He located the group’s surviving shaman, and proffered the feather.

“Tag this on Twilight Sparkle. Go!”

Twilight stumbled through the dunes, cresting another and stopping briefly to rest. She was not used to the difficulties of walking in sand, even though she had slept recently, she was exhausted. She was more searching for a sheltered place to spend the night than trying to find her way out of the desert. However, the dunes seemed to go on unbroken forever. She knew that if she fell asleep in the dunes, she likely would not wake up.

As dire as her predicament was, she stopped when she reached the top of one of the tallest sand drifts so far to admire the landscape. It had a harsh, rugged beauty to it- the dunes were the epitome of grace in nature despite their bulk, wavy crowns of sand casting shadows over the next dune, entirely lit by the waxing light of the crescent moon. Not a visible pony or building to disturb the peace.

Twilight trekked on once more, shaking thoughts of beauty out of her head. If she became too enthralled by it, she could forget what it truly was- a vicious place intent on killing its occupants.

By now, Twilight figured the griffons would likely be well on her trail, despite her actions to cover her tracks. Griffon Strikers were skilled hunters. She needed to keep her head down, probably not use her real name, and find secure places to sleep in the day. She would travel by night.

She needed to find somewhere to rest. She could feel her mental faculties slowing and her body aching and stiffening. She would be found too easily in the open. Her body straining with every step, she climbed up yet another mound and lost her footing at the top, tumbling and sliding down the scarp. She slammed into solid rock at the bottom of her fall, further bruising her wing. If she hadn’t knocked into it, she never would have noticed it.

A tiny stone cave, so weathered it was impossible to tell if it was natural or pony-made, but almost invisible from above- indeed, Twilight doubted she would have found it even if she walked right next to it. Scattered around, as Twilight narrowed her eyes and knew what to look for, were other desert-colored stones. She was in the largest dip between to banks she had seen yet, and wondered if this were some sort of unofficial path.

She wiggled into the cave- it was almost exactly large enough to conceal herself from the outside world. There was a sandy depression that told Twilight she was not the first to have this idea, and she settled into it. It was cool, almost uncomfortably so, but Twilight did not care. Even the dryness in the back of her throat could not keep her awake long.

She smiled. Tomorrow, I’ll find water... and then... then... she drifted off to sleep, the contented smile still etched into her face.