It took a few days before Braeburn finally poked his head out of the farmhouse.  The stallion went to his barn early in the morning and checked the apple supply temperatures, still hovering around 35 degrees Fahrenheit, and brought a few out in a bucket and took them up to the kitchen.  The apples were diced and placed into a few bowls, the knife in Braeburn’s hoof slamming down on the counter hard enough to cause small grooves to appear.  It wasn’t long before Braeburn had some apple turnovers in the oven and a few diced apples in a salad.  By the time Twilight and Applejack had woken up, Braeburn had finished making the morning meal and was drinking a glass of cider along with his serving.

“You’re drinking already?” Applejack said.  “I have half a mind to take away your key and lock up the cider storage.”

“Calm down,” Braeburn said, “it’s the non-alcoholic version.  Like the apple juice you make at home but with a little extra spice and a little more natural sweetness.  If you want some for yourself, there’s a small keg in the fridge.”

Applejack looked in the fridge and saw the keg.  She shrugged and got two mugs for herself and Twilight and filled them up before setting them both down at the table.  It was only after Twilight tasted hers for any traces of alcohol – and finally noted that there really wasn’t any – that the two finally went to go get their plates for breakfast and sat down to eat.

“Why are you so on edge today?” Braeburn said.  “That stint at the bar was an extremely rare occurrence.  The last time I drank that much was at the Apple Family Reunion back in Baltimare, and even then I had no idea someone spiked it.”

“Because you’ve been too reckless lately,” Applejack spat.  “First you killed the robber, then you shot the pegasus’ wing, then there was the unicorn falling off the cliff, then shooting the other unicorn’s horn, and then drinking yourself sick.  And this behavior isn’t even in most ponies lifetimes; you have it over the course of a few months, and the last ones were in a matter of weeks!  Is there anything else stupid you’ve done lately?”

Braeburn took a bite of salad and shrugged.  “I might have nearly beaten a prospector to death after he tried to—”

Braeburn’s explanation was cut off by a horrified gasp from Twilight.

“You nearly beat somepony to death!?” Applejack exclaimed.  “Braeburn, what has gotten into you?”

“Now hold on a minute, cousin Applejack!  You didn’t even let me finish!  The pony in particular was a prospector who was trying to get at the gold vein under my orchard.  He and a companion trespassed on my property and knocked over two trees trying to get at the gold.  Now, normally if I found out about it soon enough, the trees could be replanted, but with the heat I couldn’t put them back in and get them both to survive.”

“That is no reason to go around beating up ponies, though!” Applejack scolded.  “You could have put a lasso around him and called for Sheriff Silverstar to come around here.”

“Listen to me, Applejack.  Silverstar is a good pony, but he has done nothing ever since Blueblood’s arrival.  He didn’t come around last to make sure we were okay, he came around because the townsponies were complaining of gunfire!  He wasn’t present at the time Wheat Stalk was thrown out the window, and he hasn’t even tried to speak with Blueblood to get him to stop.”

“Quit talkin’ about now and let’s talk about then!  Why didn’t you call Silverstar then?”

“Look at you!  You’re trying to divert the subject!  That means you admit that as of late Silverstar has been useless!”

“Because I’m not talking about now!  Why didn’t you call him then?”

“Because by the time I had reached them myself two of my apple trees were dead!” Braeburn roared.  “I had the biggest crop of apples and the biggest profit I’ve ever had and these prospectors were killing off my orchard as though it meant nothing!  I bet you they found out about Blueblood in Dodge Junction and made their way over there and told him of the gold store under my orchard!”

“Well, now, you’re just goin’ crazy and makin’ assumptions,” Applejack said.  “I realize you’re mad because they took down two of your trees, but what good is it to go around assumin’ things like them going over and telling Blueblood?  I bet you sooner or later Blueblood and his men would have come digging around here even if the prospectors didn’t come here!”

Braeburn sighed.  “You just aren’t seeing things from my angle, are you?” he said.

“And you aren’t seeing things rationally at times,” Applejack countered.  Her voice had softened, though Braeburn could tell her anger was not yet abated.  The mare sighed.  “Maybe in those situations you were in the right, but that doesn’t mean you went about them with the right mind.  I’m just saying you could have tried a different route.”

Braeburn looked over to Twilight, over to her violet eyes.  “Twilight… please say you believe me.”

The mare went red, though Braeburn could somehow tell it wasn’t from flattery like she had been before.  “Braeburn… when I first met you, you were a charming, personable pony.  But no amount of believing is going to help me get over the fact that you’ve been reckless and even a danger to be around.”

Applejack took a moment to look over at Twilight, still staring at Braeburn seemingly conflicted over whether or not she should look at him lovingly or if she was afraid of him, then turned to the stallion.  “Braeburn, you’re my cousin and I love you dearly.  But I don’t think we can stay here much longer.”

“Where are you going to go if you can’t stay here?”

“We’ll find a spot in the hotel.  I’m sure we can get a room for a decent price or tell them we’ll pay them back later.”

Braeburn sat quietly for a minute, then nodded.  “Alright, let me call a carriage for you.”

“No!” Applejack shouted, causing Braeburn to jump but not flinch.  “You’re just trying to get back on our good side again and make it where you’ll be able to get us to stay.  Well, I’m not havin’ any part of that serpent talk!”

“Now, Applejack!” Braeburn said, sitting up from the table.  “That’s a blow below the belt.  I haven’t gone and insulted you that way ever!”

“I’m sorry, Braeburn,” Applejack said, “but I’m not one to skirt around the facts.  Come on, Twilight.  We’re packing up and leaving before this damn fool gets us into any more trouble.”  And she left the kitchen, Braeburn listening to her hoofsteps as she walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom.

Twilight slowly got up out of her chair at the table and seemed hesitant to leave.  Braeburn walked over to her as the mare pulled her head away.  Braeburn took a hoof to her chin and pulled it back to his own.  He could see the fear in her eyes, a feeling of being trapped and alone… with him, and yet there was something awestruck and mesmerized by him.  He was so close to her and wanted to kiss her so bad, yet restrained himself.

“You promised you would send the letter to the Princess,” Braeburn whispered.  “Even if you can’t reach Celestia, you’re still here.  Please… I need your help.”

Twilight’s eyes were watering.  “Please… don’t make this any harder on me.”

“Twilight… I love you.  Please don’t go.”

“I don’t want to…”  Twilight’s voice quivered.  “…but Applejack’s right.  I can’t stay.”

“It’s not fair,” Braeburn responded, barely raising his voice.  “Applejack isn’t the final say.”

“I know, but… she’s the most honest pony I know.  I can’t just cast her advice aside.”

“Open your eyes, Twilight.  Circumstances aren’t the same now as they were a few months ago.  Maybe if they were this wouldn’t be a problem.  But, for now, all we can do is dream and act until Blueblood realizes what he’s doing.”

Twilight’s eyes closed and she turned away as Braeburn came in for a kiss.  Braeburn stopped, noticing the mare had turned away, then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Dreaming can’t make it go away, Braeburn,” Twilight said as she pulled away from the stallion.  “But neither will going to such extremes.”  Then she turned and walked out of the kitchen and down the hall as fast as she could.

Applejack and Twilight left the farmhouse later that same morning without even saying goodbye to Braeburn.  Their stuff was packed and they started walking with their saddlebags in the direction of Appleoosa.  Braeburn watched them leave, a mug of cider in his hoof, staring hard at Twilight and feeling a sense of loss and betrayal.

A few more days passed.  A large area had been surrounded by a fence put up one mile outside Appleoosa and was viewable from the river and the ridge on Braeburn’s farm.  Everypony knew where the wood was coming from, even though the trains never passed through anymore; they always left from the same direction they came.  Within the fence stood a simple but rather neat house easily as large as Braeburn’s house and barn combined on one floor, and another structure had a foundation set and a first floor completed.  Coincidentally, the suite on the top floor of the hotel in town was evacuated by Blueblood and his men and two new patrons had eventually taken the room for themselves.

The construction caused more than its share of problems among the residents.  The townsponies were getting irritated with Blueblood’s guards stalking around the city and harassing them for food and money.  A few even went to the sheriff’s office to see about getting them off the land.  However, Sheriff Silverstar ended up making excuses as to why nothing was done: the construction was just over a mile away which meant it was perfectly legal, the guards were making the town safer than before, and Blueblood simply had more power than he did being a government official.  Even worse, Braeburn thought, was the fact that a few of the townsponies actually sided with Blueblood and Silverstar; a few had gone to work with him in the construction of the complex outside of town and came back singing praises about the pay and the conditions.

Matter of fact, it seemed to Braeburn that Blueblood was getting more supporters by the day.  Braeburn, the other farmers, and their families were against Blueblood due to constantly being harassed about giving up their land or giving their crops over to Blueblood and his men.  A large number of shopkeepers, however, had started approving of Blueblood and his men due to them getting more business than they had in years, though Coal Dust and his family managed to gain a few supporters at their forge.  Even the sheriff’s department was enjoying it because they said that Blueblood’s men helped them with the patrol; only Cold Steel and his family refused to buy in to Blueblood and his men.  It was with these divisions that the town became split in the matter of Blueblood, some arguing for his cruelty and harassment being grounds to get kicked out, while others said they were small setbacks and otherwise he was helping.

At a town meeting it was quite clear that it was not helping.  Profits for the farmers had gone down and imports from other cities and towns were going up, causing Appleoosa to go into debt for the first time in seven years.  Instead of attracting money to the town, Blueblood was drawing it away, though his supporters argued that his work was just starting and it would eventually give back to the town once it got underway.  A fight ended up breaking out among the ponies that resulted in a few from each side getting taken to the hospital.

Braeburn had feigned being sick and not attended the meeting, feeling the town had become a bunch of fools and likely wouldn’t agree on anything.  Any information he knew about it was gained from the newspaper, the radio, and getting other information from the other farmers that had gone to the meeting.  Braeburn continually told himself he had seen this coming ever since Blueblood had come into town, though only now were the ponies starting to realize this was the case.

Despite his anger, Braeburn kept relatively quiet and took no further reckless moves against Blueblood and his men.  He carefully avoided the guards when he went to town and took extra care to make sure he didn’t look suspicious.  He simply went about his usual routine of getting his groceries, getting any broken tools repaired, and posting up his notification that he was about to begin digging the trenches for the upcoming rainy season and letting ponies know he would be paying any of those who helped out that year.  Four names were placed on the notice by the end of the day: three of them were Cold Steel, Coal Dust, and a young brown colt named Quick Draw, an avid marksman who likely was looking for extra money to help out with his mother’s shop in town.  The fourth was Twilight Sparkle.

Braeburn smiled to himself as he saw the name.  Either Applejack was finally starting to see what he was seeing or the mare had done it on the sly.  Either way, it was a chance to see her again.  Perhaps that was part of the reason that he had not been so reckless lately; there was no one around to protect, no one around to enjoy himself with.  Ever since she left, Braeburn had felt so drained and longed to see her again, though Applejack and Twilight had seemed to distance themselves from him so much lately since the shooting at the hotel.  Braeburn admitted that he acted rashly and quickly, and regretted the decision now that he saw what the consequences were.  No matter, Braeburn thought to himself, as digging the trenches will show them that I’m back on track and have calmed down again.

No new names were placed on the notification the next day, though a different piece of news arrived that Braeburn found particularly interesting.  After returning from town, Braeburn noticed a letter had arrived to his house that had no return address.  Braeburn opened up the letter in the kitchen and found three interesting things about it.  First was that it was written in a very neat handwriting on very expensive personalized stationary; a compass rose was in the bottom right corner and the paper had a gold edge around it and a slight silver tint on each of the corners.  Second was the fact that it was sent from none other than Prince Blueblood himself.  Thirdly was that it didn’t seem to be angry or mad at him at all.

Braeburn Apple:

I am sorry that our time together has gotten off on the wrong hoof.  If you would not mind, I would like to make it up to you.  This coming Tuesday, I will be coming at 11:00 in the morning in a private train car to Appleoosa.  If it pleases you, I would like you to join me for tea on the train, a tour around the changes I’ve made to Dodge Junction, and lunch at my personal suite and work area.  Rather than drawing blades at each other’s throats, I want this to be a peaceful and pleasant gathering and will promise you now that no guard will attack you.

Prince Blueblood – LMC.

Blueblood was willing to talk.  The thought amused Braeburn greatly.  The prince had been so stuck up and refusing to listen to him every other time they had met, yet now he was willing to talk.  Yet it occurred to Braeburn that he was not going to be easily swayed; it wasn’t stated exactly though Braeburn assumed that the entire point of the trip was to convince him to hand over the deeds by making what he was doing sound good for Appleoosa.

Still, it would be an entertaining venture if nothing more.

On Tuesday of the next week, Braeburn decided he would take up Blueblood’s offer.  Pulling together the deeds and hiding the revolver inside his vest, Braeburn locked up and called a carriage to head to the train station.  He was there half an hour early, though Blueblood was already there speaking with a few of his guards.  As he noticed Braeburn approaching, he cut off his conversation and went up to Braeburn, holding a hoof out in front of him.  Braeburn approached and took the hoof.

“I’m glad you could take up the offer, Braeburn,” Blueblood said, sounding genial.

“I also would like to stop the bad blood between us,” Braeburn replied.  “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to talk.”

“And, as I said before, the deal stands.  If I order my men to attack you, you may pull out a gun and shoot me.”

“Well, I have a feeling it won’t come to that,” Braeburn said, “so I left it in a safe spot back at home.”

Blueblood nodded before gesturing to the train at the station.  It was a different sort of vehicle than the normal steam engines that traveled through; the white cars with a blue line down either side were sleek and streamlined with a distinct rounded point on each end.  There were two cars in the middle and one of the “engines” was placed on both ends, rounded edges out.  “Now, usually, the journey to Dodge Junction takes one day, but since this is considered something of a government trip, this electric engine should get us there in about an hour.  Not as much time starting up and it will go faster than any other engine you can imagine.”

Braeburn nodded.  “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen one of them before.”

“Well, now you get to ride in one,” Blueblood said, placing a hoof around Braeburn’s shoulders.  “Come along, then.  We wouldn’t want to keep you waiting too long.”

Braeburn nodded and followed Blueblood into the car.  The carpets were made of a soft fabric that felt good on Braeburn’s worn hooves and the stallion was greeted by a blast of cold air followed by a comfortable temperature once the doors closed.  Inside the car were a few tables and a small bar area, along with a set of stairs that could be taken to a second floor.

Blueblood walked up the stairs and up to the second floor area where a special table had been laid out.  The table was long and thin and covered with a pristine white tablecloth, on top of which there was a large porcelain teapot and two rather large teacups.  In the middle were small bowls containing sugar and cream, as well as a plate of small crackers, finely sliced cheeses, very as well as an assortment of vegetables and fruits.  Blueblood sat himself down at one side of the table and Braeburn picked up a seat across from him.

One of Blueblood’s men walked over.  “Shall I tell the engineer we’re ready to leave?”

“Yes; I know it’s early, but tell him it means a longer lunch break later,” Blueblood said.

The guard nodded and went down the stairs, presumably leaving the car.

“Does he really get that break?” Braeburn asked.

“Oh, certainly,” Blueblood replied.  “I can’t have morale down among those who work for me.  It keeps them working longer and harder if I give them the little extra incentives.”  Blueblood’s horn glowed and soon the teapot was being levitated towards Braeburn.  “Chai tea with vanilla?”

“Never had it before, but I’ll try it.”

Blueblood nodded and soon a slightly caramel-colored liquid was being poured into Braeburn’s cup and filled it maybe three-quarters of the way full.  Blueblood poured the same into his own cup and began pouring some cream into his tea before the train started moving.  It wasn’t long before they were already out of Appleoosa and gliding along the tracks, Braeburn adding a small amount of cream to his own tea after finding he liked the taste of it.

“You could always take off your hat,” Blueblood said.

Braeburn touched the rim of his Stetson.  “You mean this?  It’s a gift from my pa.  I’m not risking leaving it anywhere.  And besides… it fits nice and keeps my head cool.”

Blueblood nodded.  “Fair enough.  I’m supposing you don’t take outings like this often?”

“If you’re meaning with a government official,” Braeburn said, “then I never have.  If you’re meaning small vacations, I hardly have time.”

“Ah.”  Blueblood took a sip of his tea and started placing some crackers, cheese, and vegetables on his plate.  “Now, while small talk is plenty excellent, I’m assuming you realize from the letter that isn’t the point.  What I would like to do is get to know a little more about you and your town as we make our way to Dodge Junction.”

“Fair enough.  Where do you want me to start?”

“At the founding of Appleoosa, preferably.”

“Alright.  I had been living at my relative’s farm in Ponyville ever since I was about seven.  That’s when my father died, and the closest living relative was my Granny Smith, along with her two grandchildren: Big Macintosh and Applejack.  Anyways, I’d been living there for a while when I got the idea to start my own farm.  What with all the hills around, Ponyville ended up not being the most decent place to start one.  I gave up for a little while for reasons unknown and took up exploring the deserts.”

Braeburn took a grape and placed it in his mouth; likely it was the sweetest one he had ever tasted.  “After a while, I came upon a small town that hadn’t really been started up yet; they were building the first few houses but had no protection and less food.  Well, I found a couple of nice pieces of fertile land and planted a few trees from the seeds that Granny Smith gave me.  Working on a farm a few years gave me some experience in that field, so I helped out another farmer start planting a whole bunch of vegetables and got another started on some wheat fields.”

Braeburn had a cracker with some cheese; the cracker was slightly salty with a slight crunch while the cheese almost melted in his mouth.  “After those other two farmers and I had started up our farms, ponies started believing the town could make it.  A saloon was built, as was a baker and a miller.  Soon there was a hardware store and a forge sprang up soon afterwards, along with a sheriff’s office to make sure nopony was out of line.  It wasn’t long before mineral deposits were found due to the river that ran by the town and we had at least five hundred ponies by the end of the year.”

Blueblood smiled approvingly as he took another sip of his tea; he had patiently waited until Braeburn was done speaking, allowing his story to complete before speaking himself.  “Now, I must say I’ve heard a lot of stories about you from the townsponies, almost all of them good.  Though, one particular incident stands out to me: the buffalo.  Mind telling me what happened there?”

Braeburn continued picking at the food as he continued speaking.  “Well, as congratulations for starting up the town, my cousin Applejack came over with some of her friends to bring an apple tree to place in my orchard.  Things were going swell until the buffalo started intruding; apparently, we had built our town on their migration route and they didn’t take kindly to them.  I’ll spare you the details, but I eventually managed to find one of the buffalo that was as eager to talk things out as we were.  The buffalo were about to attack Appleoosa as we were making a compromise, and eventually we got things sorted over with the leader, a certain Chief Thunderhooves.  He agreed to the compromise and stopped the attack on Appleoosa.  All we had to do was to clear out and move a single row of trees from the apple orchard to make room for their stampedes.  It worked well and we haven’t had a conflict since.”

By the time Braeburn had finished, the train had arrived at Dodge Junction and glided so smoothly to a stop that Braeburn hardly felt it.  Blueblood got up from the table and motioned for Braeburn to follow him out of the train and into the station.

The station was the first thing that Braeburn noticed.  It was completely covered now in finely polished wood floors and flawless tile walls, mostly white though one wall was decorated with a mine shaft with the sun behind it while another had a view of Canterlot from a distance.  Ponies traveled back and forth under the multi-colored glass roof, the sun shining down and bathing the floor of the enclosed station in multiple hues of blue, purple, red, and gold.  The temperature in the station was warmer than that of the car but still comfortable.

“I figured Dodge Junction needed some improvements to keep itself on par with the rest of Equestria,” Blueblood said, “so why not start with the basics?  Let them enter and be amazed at what they see and it will convince them to stay around longer.”

Braeburn was amazed, though in the back of his mind he was trying to figure out how much it would cost to be able to build such a thing.

Outside of the station were tall buildings, nowhere near the size of those in Manehattan or even Baltimare, though much larger than the hotel in Appleoosa.  All were cleanly whitewashed then painted over with blue and gold accents, not to mention having evenly spaced windows all along the sides of the buildings and glass double doors as entryways into gold-accented granite lobbies.  Some advertised apartments to rent, while others held businesses and others held restaurants and shops.  Braeburn had been to Manehattan before for a reunion, but the cleanliness of it all still surprised and amazed him, not to mention the continued construction of more buildings and repaving of the original dirt roads that had once traveled through there.

Blueblood led Braeburn over to a carriage that had two rather large unicorn guards saddled up to it.  Another guard opened the door and motioned them both in.  Braeburn stepped in and sat on the plush set covers as the door was closed and the carriage started off through the streets.

“It’s a short ride to the mining company quarters where my quarters are and where we’ll be eating lunch,” Blueblood said.  “I often enjoy going to some of the restaurants around here on my days off; there’s an excellent place around here that grills the vegetables so well they are well cooked but retain all the flavors and nutrients.”

“I’ve never tried cooking them that way,” Braeburn said, thinking of nothing else to say.

“Anyways, what do you think of the town now?” Blueblood said.  “It’s not just your rough and tumble town anymore.  Now, the land is being put to use.  The size has at least tripled since the last rodeo and gun show that was hosted here two years ago and the ponies here are thriving.  If you look out the window in a few minutes, you’ll see the new housing set up.”

Gradually, as Blueblood said, the buildings became smaller and smaller and eventually the streets became filled with houses that were the size of Braeburn’s farmhouse at the smallest.  Even then, the houses also contained sometimes a basement or a second floor, in addition to small personal gardens and lawns out in front.  Tall shade trees dotted the landscape and brought relief from the hotter afternoon sun, and every once in a while a new building appeared; a coffee shop, a local grocery store, a small restaurant or café, smaller clothing and home goods stores.

“What do you think of the sites so far?” Blueblood asked.

“Well, it certainly looks nice,” Braeburn admitted.  “And it’s far cleaner than anything in Appleoosa.”

“I do try to keep the streets and houses clean,” Blueblood said.  “We won’t be passing them the route we’ll be taking, but there’s more than enough schools and parks that are nearly as high as the standards in major cities like Baltimare and even Canterlot.”

“And it’s all very organized,” Braeburn commented.  “Twilight would approve.”

Blueblood smirked, but it soon simmered down to a simple smile.  “How interesting that you would note Twilight,” he said.  “I spoke with her a few days ago and she said she wanted nothing to do with me.  I let her go her own way, but it is interesting how you put forth that Twilight would approve when she, from the last time I checked, doesn’t.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Braeburn said.  “She hasn’t spoken with me since I shot your guard.”

Blueblood pshawed and waved his hoof.  “Can’t we put that behind us?  I’ve already stated I wanted no bad blood between us.  And besides, his horn will heal.  He’s being treated by some of the doctors at the hospital here, which I assure you is held to the same standards as everything else.”

“What of your mine?”

“Haven’t had an accident and all workers have gotten ample sick days.  At the very least it isn’t something like coal that would be worse for the health if you breathe it in.”

“Yet coal has more functional and practical use.”  Braeburn gestured to the buildings outside.  “Most of what you have is functional and practical.  Your layouts, your cleanliness, the repaving of the roads, and yet some things are simply extravagant: the gold accents, the granite tiles, the multi-colored glass.”

“It has its usage, I assure you,” Blueblood said, “aesthetically in terms of making things look more pleasing to the eye, and keeps the same functionality.  Sometimes, with the darker colors like blues or reds, it prevents people from looking in and makes things less conspicuous.”

“A pair of drapes would cost less,” Braeburn said.

Blueblood opened his mouth to speak, yet no words came out.  He shut his mouth and gave an acknowledging nod, though Braeburn had the slight feeling that he wasn’t actually paying attention to him.

Eventually, a much larger building began rising above the otherwise suburban neighborhood.  This one had floors painted in alternating shades of dark green and a light beige color.  The top floor was much smaller and painted beige and stood maybe six floors high.  It was here that the carriage pulled up to and another guard opened the door so that Blueblood and Braeburn could get out.  Blueblood motioned for Braeburn to follow him and the two went inside.

The lobby of the place was plainer than the buildings that Braeburn had seen by the station though it had its touches of decadence.  The wood floors were polished so finely it shone, a glass chandelier hung overhead with bunches of smaller golden lights that hit the glass and sent miniature rainbows all over the lobby.  The main counters marking the reception desks were covered in a fine granite surface and had gold trim along the edges and corners.  Braeburn was led over to an elevator and found more of the granite tiles inside the elevator, along with a gold railing around the outside.  Blueblood punched a button on the elevator’s console and the elevator began smoothly making its way upwards.

“Where are we now?” Braeburn asked.

“This is the mining company’s and my management committee’s main offices,” Blueblood said.  “Here is where we have meetings determining the quality and efficiency of the mine, do paperwork to send to Canterlot, and see about what land spaces can be appointed for what work or jobs.  We’re currently heading to my offices and quarters on the top floor.”

The rest of the ride was quiet until a small ping sounded and the doors opened on the opposite side of where they entered.  Braeburn followed Blueblood out of the elevator and into a large entryway that was filled with carpet instead of wood or tiles. In front of Braeburn was a long hall with two doors on either side and a door at the end of the hall.  Blueblood led Braeburn to the first door on the right, which opened up into a large dining room with windows looking out over the reformed Dodge Junction and where two place settings were set up at a fancy wooden table.  Braeburn sat down at one of the spots while Blueblood positioned himself at the other and a few ponies that Braeburn assumed were servants began bringing out bowls of hot soup and cold salad garnished with expensive dressings, along with a plate of steaming fresh bread.

Blueblood arranged a napkin over his chest before using his magic to levitate spoonful’s of soup to his mouth.  Braeburn was a little sloppier, though managed to properly grip a spoon in his hoof and ate slowly; for some reason, he had not been feeling very hungry that day despite the fact that everything tasted better.  Perhaps he was still on edge, and Blueblood had yet to show any real signs of hostility much like he had promised.  Even so, there was something that Braeburn was sure Blueblood was not showing him.

“So, Braeburn,” Blueblood said after they started eating.  “I want you to tell me what you think of my improvements.”

“Of what I’ve seen,” Braeburn responded, “I haven’t seen much bad.  The homes are neat and nice, the buildings are near those I’ve seen in Baltimare or Manehattan, everyone seems to have some amount of wealth stored away, and everyone seems to be living quite well.”

“Yet your earlier statement betrays your real opinion.  I’ve arranged this meeting so that we can be honest with each other.  So tell me what is it that you were questioning?”

“You’ve only shown me the best parts of your city.  You showed me a thriving downtown, a calm suburban neighborhood, and a successful business headquarters.  But that’s all I’ve seen.  Dodge Junction could not have gone from frontier town to thriving metropolis in two years without something giving way.”

Blueblood laughed good-naturedly and smiled at Braeburn.  “You keep assuming the worst of me, Braeburn.  I don’t want to start up our old arguments for the sake of you saying I’m hiding something from you.  I’ve already told you: there are no guards and I currently have no weapon with me.”

“I didn’t say you were trying to ambush me,” Braeburn said.  He pushed away the remainder of the salad and the soup and leaned back in the chair he had been sitting in.  “What was the cost of such a large city renovation?  I’ll wager it was at least in the millions of bits.”

“Something around that mark, yes.”  Blueblood kept his smile though there was a look of confusion on his face.

“Have you paid off anything?”

“This very building you sit in,” Blueblood replied proudly.

Braeburn thought about it for a moment.  “That’s it?”

Blueblood gulped and Braeburn could see he was struggling to maintain the smile.

Braeburn nodded.  “How long, do you expect, will it take to pay off so much work done in so short amount of time?”

Blueblood shrugged.  “I’d wager a few years.”

Braeburn nodded again.  “That’s one of the things I don’t want for Appleoosa.  I don’t want to continually be paying a piece of my profits to someone who doesn’t even live there.  What I do with my farm is trade; I send out my apples, they give me money, and sometimes I pay them the money back to get things we otherwise don’t have.  That’s a trade.  A transaction.”

“It’s the same with our building projects here,” Blueblood said, his smile gone though still not malicious.  “We pay for their services, they build the buildings.  It’s a transaction, same as with you and your apples.”

“But it’s not the same,” Braeburn replied.  “I built my house from scratch.  I bought the wood, the paint, the stucco, the drywall, everything.  Sure, I might have hired another pony or two to help with the electricity and the air conditioning, but for the most part it was all my own.  Same with a fair amount of the ponies in Appleoosa.  We bought the items, we made the transactions, we built the homes and the stores.  When the transactions were through, that was it until we wanted another service.  But this… this is a binding contract.  They’ve sold themselves to paying off these buildings that will take years.”

“What do you think taxes do?” Blueblood deadpanned.

“I still pay my taxes,” Braeburn said.  “It’s what keeps the trains running so I can sell my apples.  But I owe nothing more on the house.  Appleoosa broke profit records every year after its first year.  So now, since we’re being honest, tell me how broke Dodge Junction is.”

Blueblood’s eyebrows finally started to register anger though his voice was still restrained.  “It will be paid off in twenty years.”

“Oh?  But what about the food that you’ll need to bring in?  Or the medical supplies, or the cooking materials, or the building materials, or the books, the papers, the machinery?  Will that debt ever be paid off since you shunted most of the original residents off the land?”  Braeburn folded his hooves and placed them on the table.  “Even the ponies in Canterlot buy my apples, Blueblood.  Take that away and one of their suppliers would be gone, as well as some of whatever money might have been coming into Appleoosa.  This doesn’t seem like much, but with a farm as big as I’ve had the last few years, it might be enough to call it a shortage.”

“I have spoken with you about moving the farm, haven’t I?” Blueblood asked.

“I have spoken with you about there being no other suitable fertile land large enough, haven’t I?” Braeburn returned.

Blueblood shrugged.

Braeburn exhaled loudly.  “Can I see your offices?”

Blueblood adjusted his collar.  “I don’t see why not.”

Braeburn gave a little smirk as Blueblood got up out of the chair and started walking off down the hall.  Braeburn followed him out of the dining room and off to the door at the end of the corridor opposite the elevator.  Blueblood took out a key with his magic and placed it in the door, unlocking it and opening the door before stepping inside.

Braeburn followed him in.  It seemed like a normal office; there was a desk with an inkwell pen and a container of ink, along with some stationary along with a few memos about things that were needed to be done.  Along one edge of the room stood a large oak bookcase filled with classic novels and modern books on cartography, geography, and geology.  Behind the desk was a chair that was crafted from leather and a red drape covering the window.

“Mind opening the window to get some sunlight?” Braeburn said.  “It feels a little dark in here.”

“I don’t really think that’s necessary…” Blueblood said.

“Now, now,” Braeburn said.  “If I remember correctly, it was your idea to be honest with each other.  If there’s something you’re hiding from me…”  Braeburn took out the revolver from his vest and pointed it at Blueblood, clicking it to let him know it was loaded.  “…then open that window and show me.”

Now Blueblood was panicking.  He adjusted his collar, hooves shivering as he did so, and he walked slowly over to a pull cord on the wall.  As he pulled the cord on the wall, the window opened and light streamed in, illuminating the tiny drops of sweat on Blueblood’s forehead as Braeburn walked over.

Whereas the city’s downtown and suburbs had been brightly colored, outside the window was a different story.  Large machinery rumbled and clanked outside the open window.  Everything, including the ponies, seemed to be covered in a layer of dirt and smoke and soot, but this was normal for a mine.  What really struck Braeburn was what lay in the distance, beyond the smoke and dust: a rundown neighborhood of houses of rotting wood, guards constantly patrolling the streets, abandoned buildings, and ponies that looked either starved or simply poor with barely enough to get by.

“What’s over in that direction?” Braeburn motioned with the revolver before training it back on Blueblood.

Blueblood gulped as he backed away into shadows behind the window drapes.  “That is the remnants of the old Dodge Junction,” he said.  “That is where all those who were opposed to me doing these renovations stayed.”

Braeburn looked out over the old city.  “It looks like almost all of the original residents,” he said.  “I’m guessing twenty-five percent of the city is in that one area?”

“Twenty-two percent,” Blueblood replied.  “We’ve had a few leaving the city entirely lately.  Some went off to Ponyville.  Some went off to the major cities to look for family.  And some even went to Appleoosa.”

“I know,” Braeburn said.  “Three of them worked on my farm this past harvest season.  They told me about the original state of Dodge Junction, about what you had done.  I’m guessing the rest of the city’s population has been called in from elsewhere; either personal contacts, those you owed favors to, or those who you wanted in support of your new little committee?”

“Minus the favors,” Blueblood admitted.

Braeburn nodded.  He clicked the revolver’s safety on and put it back in his vest.

“…you’re not going to shoot me?”  Blueblood’s voice was a mixture of surprise and relief.

“No.”  Braeburn said, pulling out something else from his vest to show Blueblood.  “I wouldn’t ever actually kill someone so close to the government as yourself.  But I can make it hell for you.”  Braeburn showed Blueblood the two deeds for Appleoosa and Dodge Junction.  “Were you looking for these?”

“Not me personally, no,” Blueblood said.

Braeburn didn’t believe him since he didn’t have the gun pointed at his head anymore.  “Take one last long look at them, Prince Blueblood, since this will be the last time you ever lay your eyes on them.”

Braeburn kept them out a little while longer, letting Blueblood look at them.  Just when the unicorn appeared to be ready to reach out and grab them, Braeburn rolled them up and placed them back in his vest with the revolver.  “Shall we return to Appleoosa?  You said you would escort me back, and I still won’t do anything to do so long as you keep your end of the bargain.”

Blueblood sighed and walked off to the elevator, Braeburn following behind.  As soon as the elevator doors closed, Blueblood turned to Braeburn.  “It’s not often I see somepony from the smaller towns put up such a fight as you have.  If this is going in the direction I think it’s going, it’ll be fun to see where things end up.”

Braeburn didn’t respond or even look at him.

No less than thirty minutes later, Braeburn was at the bar on the train with Blueblood, both drinking shots of a weak gin and tonic as the electric engines glided along the desert tracks back towards Appleoosa.  Neither talked to the other, only speaking to order another shot whenever they felt it convenient enough; Blueblood ordered three shots almost as soon as he got on the train, while Braeburn had the same amount throughout the entire trip.

Back at the station in Appleoosa, Blueblood and Braeburn walked back through the town until they came to the hotel, where Braeburn would turn off to go back to the farmhouse.

“If it ever came down to it,” Blueblood said before they parted, “would you kill me?”

“I’ve had more chances to than you realize,” Braeburn said.  “It simply has never been the optimal time to take any of them.”

Blueblood nodded, then continued walking down the street.  Braeburn turned and went back his own way to the farmhouse, noticing the face of Twilight Sparkle in the top-floor windows for a fleeting second before it disappeared into darkness.

Back at the farmhouse, Braeburn was thinking about getting himself a cold mug of cider, yet as he stepped into the kitchen, he realized something was wrong.  Drawers had been opened and shuffled through, the cabinets had been moved around and items inside were placed all over the counters.  The same happened with the end tables in the living room, as well as a chest of drawers.  The air was hot despite the air conditioner being on, and Braeburn walked over to see the back door was open.

Braeburn walked outside the door and noticed two unicorn guards walking away across the orchard.  Laughing to himself, Braeburn crept over to the ridge and pulled out the revolver, turning off the safety.  Two shots rang out across the orchard before Braeburn put the revolver away and dumped the two unicorns in the river, watching as they floated away downstream.

Next Chapter: Chapter 14 - Imprisoned Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 6 Minutes