Fallout: Equestria
Ember

She watched her opponents as best she could, her parka’s hood hindering her peripheral vision, restricting her movement, protecting her from the cold. There were four of them, two mares and two stallions, two unicorns and two earth ponies, four combatants against her alone.

None of them wore the thick layers she did, most ponies only needed a decent jacket and knit cap unless they were spending all day outdoors, their coats protecting them, an effective barrier against the cold. The two earth ponies both wore heavy steel barding, thick wool liners protecting them from their armour, cumbersome things that slowed their movement as much as her parka. In lighter vests with ceramic plates sewn in, the unicorns seemed to flow and dance as they circled her, ignoring the gusts of frigid wind as though it were a warm spring day.

A deep breath of the glacial air braced her, chilled her, froze her lungs. Hate, pain, and rage boiled together and filled her. A single bead of sweat formed on her brow, rolling down her hairless muzzle, hanging from her chin before dripping off and freezing mid fall.

With no horn of her own, the soft brown parka had been designed to easy removal, velcro straps ripping away, screaming as they were torn apart. She cast the coat away.

All five shivered and clenched their teeth as the parka hit the dirt, though for vastly different reasons. Even after so long, she could not ignore the air’s gelid caress; for the others, however, disgust and nausea curled their noses and pushed them back.

With chattering teeth and uncontrollable tremors, she grinned.

No matter how brightly the sun shines on Las Pegasus, the heart of winter never leaves. Cold winds blow through the snow covered streets, pushing the white fluff into drifts three storeys tall. Teeth of ice hang from any overhang, be it eave or wire or metal pole, many almost as old as the few ghouls who would call the ancient city home, hoar frost clinging desperately to every surface.

At one corner of the city, near the frozen docks, a pillar of pitch black smoke billowed into the sky, drawing every waking eye, panicking some and enticing others. Where there was smoke, there was fire, and fire was life in the Winter City.

Hundreds of ponies gathered to fight against the flames that poured from what was once a small coffee shop and apartment. Ice and snow and magic battered the raging flames, for all the good it did. Despite their best efforts, the fire burned until the morning sun rose and there nothing was left but ash and char and bones.

As the sun crawled and the ashes cooled, ponies began to brave the wreckage. Charcoal was precious, the means to a fire, and there was always the chance to find something valuable. To no pony’s surprise, three burnt corpses were discovered in the charred remains of beds, the burnt wooden frames were a more immediate concern.

Hours passed before the first cry was heard. A foal’s call of distress that brought everypony to a stop. The second cry was louder, full of desperation and pain. Even in the Winter City, where food was almost as precious as fire, ponies were still ponies, and they began to search, digging through the ash and soot.

Half buried in a mound of ash, with a still glowing coal as large as herself gripped tightly in her legs, a tiny foal bawled, tears evaporating upon her cheek, and shivered, with nary a hair to protect her from the bitter cold.

The frost coating the dirt and sand at her hooves began to melt as waves of heat pulsed out of her. Her skin darkened, fresh pink flesh becoming tanned and leathery before it began to smoke and split and crack. An orange glow pulsed from between the fissures to the beat of her heart, her flesh continuing to darken until it was black as coal.

Heat radiated from her, the air about her wavering as the dirt at her hooves dried in an instant, the top layer cracking and curling; its moisture sapped away in a flash. She screamed, an inferno’s heat pouring out of her mouth, undulating waves of distorted air billowing from between her teeth.

Liquid fire spilled from her dock into a flaming tail, orange and red dancing and whipping idly behind her. Glowing embers spit from her fetlocks, swirling into a torrent of orange flames and white ash. A mane of fire poured from her scalp, flowing down her neck and muzzle, hiding her left eye behind a curtain of flames.

She stood tall, all ash and fire, coal and cinder, eyes of roilling magma bearing down on her frozen opponents.

Each step left scorched hoof prints in the soil as she sauntered toward the mesmerized earth pony stallion. Her tail curled and thrashed, spinning and slashing against the dirt behind her, scoring it black. Without warning it spiraled into a long cord and lashed out, a lasso of fire, promising a lesson in pain. The stallion’s instincts returned too late, his sloppy dodge putting him right where he least wanted to be.

The whip of flame caught his neck, coiling tightly between his helmet and torque, and filled the air with the stink of burning fur. Before he could so much as gasp, a sharp jerk pulled him forward. Years of training helped him maintain his footing; it would have been better to trip and fall.

Their lips locked, the mare’s eyes closed while his widened in panic and shock. He struggled to pull away from her, from the pain and fire, his lips blistering against hers. His cry of pain granted her access, parting his lips.

The others stepped back in confusion and uncertainty as the flaming mare and armored stallion remained motionless, their lips locked together. The false intimacy broke when the stallion’s legs gave out, eyes rolled back, showing only white. He slumped to the ground at her hooves, and she withdrew her tail.

The stink of brimstone poured from the unconscious stallion’s mouth before he sucked in a breath of ice cold air. Black, charred hair spiralled around his exposed throat where the mare’s tail had coiled, the skin underneath pink and unburnt.

Her tail resumed its thrashing, scorching the ground again and again as she faced the three remaining ponies.

The unicorn mare wielding a baseball bat in her teal magic charged, a battle cry pouring from her lips.

Black Waltz, cream of coat and black of mane, didn’t bother to knock as she pushed into her ‘daughter’s’ room. It was easy to find the filly, or at least to identify her hiding place. An igloo of blankets and comforters could cover her form, but not the abrasive sound of her cries.

Trotting softly toward the tiny hill, Black Waltz called for her ‘daughter’ with words she’d been told were soothing. Vague memories of her own mother speaking such words reaffirmed their use.

Laying on her belly, she set her head to rest at the small entrance and was rewarded with the smell of smoke and ash.

“Ember, dear, you mustn't burn the blankets.” A slight movement of the cloth might have been a nod, but it was the sudden drop in temperature that confirmed obedience. “That’s my girl. Now, tell mama what’s wrong.”

The hidden filly tried to sniff, but only managed a dry cough. “They- they’re making fun of me, mama!”

Waltz recoiled in genuine surprise. “What?”

Ember tried to sniff again, the sound more akin to rubbing sandpaper, as she crawled to the entrance and poked her hairless, wrinkled, flesh-pink muzzle into the apartments chilly air and shivered.

“They’re calling me ‘blank-flank’ and saying that I’ll never get my cutie mark!” The last was said with what should have been a tear filled wail, but true tears were a luxury that Ember had never known, a nearly invisible puff of steam fogging the air before her eyes briefly.

Waltz’s surprise quickly became annoyance, with only the smallest hint of concern. She’d been dreading this day. Colts and fillies were so… finicky about these things and it was such a bother to find the right words. Ember’s condition, and the reason she’d adopted her, made it all the more difficult. The truth was that she probably already had a cutie mark, but with no coat for it to appear on, they would never know.

Taking Ember in her forelegs, Waltz drew her out of the cloth cave and into what she believed to be a motherly hug. A steady heat far above an average pony’s radiated from Ember as she burrowed into Waltz’s own furry chest, her evaporating tears condensing in the black hairs.

An idea struck her, a solution to her ‘daughter’s’ current little problem. “Of course you will, my daughter, I already have my best artist working on it. Don’t worry, you will have a truly unique mark the likes of which no pony has ever seen.”

Ember leapt back to avoid the clumsily swung aluminium bat. The up-swing, however, caught under her jaw, and she stumbled back. The bat wielding mare pressed her advantage, striking a flurry of blows over the blackened pony’s shoulders and neck.

Ember screamed in pain and retreated with each blow. She lashed out at the mare with her liquid fire tail, attempting to snatch either the bat or the mare herself, but failing. The few hits she scored did little more than burn black streaks over the protective ceramic plates.

Rearing up, she aimed a kick at the mare’s horn, only to catch a nasty blow to her temple. The world tilted and she crumpled to the ground in a heap. With sputtering sparks, Ember’s mane and tail fizzled and died.

The unicorn panted heavily from her exertion as she edged closer, keeping the bat between them as she eyed the downed mare. She still breathed, the fissures in Ember’s black hide glowing bright with each inhalation. Her gaze drifted down Ember’s sides to her flank. There, where a cutie mark should have been, was a symbol, a brand, a crescent moon surrounded by stylized flames.

Another step closer and the mare poked at Ember’s shoulder. She didn’t move. Using the bat, she tilted her head.

Ember struck like a viper, her teeth snapping over the bat’s rounded tip. An orange light glowed around the hoof wide metal as she smiled.

The unicorn jumped back, wrenching the weapon back with her. It warped, stretching like a rope of taffy as Ember retained her bite over on the tip. Ember reared up, spitting the glob of melting aluminum into the air before kicking it, sending it flying toward the unicorn. She dodged, leaning her head to the side and let the ball pass, not noticing the length still connecting it to the handle in her magic. The viscous metal cord caught her neck, searing her even as it tethered around her, the ball tip arcing back, speeding up with each coiling pass, until it struck her horn, cracking the bone and sending her to the ground.

Ember didn’t watch. She turned to the last two ponies, a predatory gleam in her eye as her mane and tail flared back to life.

The unicorn stallion and earth pony mare shared a glance before dashing to the sides, hoping to flank their prey.

Ember trotted at her mother’s side. Although she was still an ear shorter than the old mare, she was finally of age. Today, on the fifth anniversary of finding her cutie mark, she would finally get to witness her destiny, to see her purpose in action.

Four of the Legends’ starting line followed at a respectful distance. Stillo, called Asp, in a form fitting dress that, by all rights, should have made movement nearly impossible. Laurel Braid, called T’Ourea, could not be seen behind his full body suit of granite armor. The unicorn known only as ‘Dynamo’ covered herself piecemeal Steal Ranger armor. Lastly, Leon, called Sphinx, whose thick fur was all the protection he needed.

For Ember and Waltz they provided a sense of comfort. Neither left their home in the company of less than two, and neither feared walking the Winter City’s streets at night.

Black Waltz wore a light, shimmering, black cloak over her cream coat to ward off the chill. Her long black mane done up in a series of curls that bounced with every step. A pair of small, circle framed, sunglasses sat on her muzzle but did little to hide her violet eyes.

Compared to the others, Ember was a puffed up fur ball. Her light brown parka was easily half a hoof thick and covered her from head to dock and wither to hoof with a hood pulled up to protect her face. Only the nail of her toe and the tip of her snout could be seen poking out of the thick coat, a white fur lining puffing out at the edges. The bulk of the whole thing made walking a chore and removal a pain, but it was either that or never step outside.

Despite the thick parka, she shivered and slid closer to her mother. Waltz glanced at her for a moment, but otherwise said nothing.

Exiting the stairwell, the group stepped once more into the sunlight and Ember’s gasp of delight became a cough.

Before them, easily more than one hundred meters long and fifty meters wide, the frost coated, bloodstained, dirt covered arena came into view. From their vantage point the ponies on the field looked no bigger than dolls as they moved the day’s terrain into place. The scarred steel walls were bolted together and anchored to the ground creating the look of a ruined city thoroughfare running to opposite corners with all the building cut down to the only the first floor to allow the spectators an unobstructed view.

A four panel projector, suspended over the center of the arena by eight massive cables, hung black and lifeless as the audience filed in, taking their seats.

Ember could barely contain her excitement as she and her mother sat down on heated cushions in their private box. It wasn’t long before the bundled up mare’s hooves were tapping in anticipation of the coming spectacle.

Soon, though far too long by Ember’s count, the masses were all seated and the projector blinked to life. Conversations quickly petered out as every eye turned to the face staring down at them.

Rancor smiled down at his subjects with a muzzle much longer and thinner than a pony’s. Though his small, red eyes and black tipped nose were off putting to most, the two long seven pointed antlers that crowned his head were what drew the most attention. The elk, whose physical form could be made out standing in his own private box, began to speak.

“Welcome, my little ponies, to the one hundred fifty-ninth Winter City Games!”

None of the still standing ponies carried a weapon, they didn’t need to.

The earth pony mare, her mark a broken stone, struck first. Stomping both forehooves, she sent tiny tremors through the ground. Ember moved, barely avoiding the pillars of rock and earth that exploded from the ground she’d been standing over moments before. Unfortunately, the unicorn was ready for her. A blast of pure kinetic force shot from his horn, punching Ember’s side and sending her tumbling and skidding along the ground.

Rolling with the hit, Ember ended on her hooves and juked to the side, narrowly avoiding the earth pony’s attack as two more pillars erupted from where she’d landed.

Ember galloped to the edge of the field, the open arena offered nothing in the way of cover or concealment, there would be no hiding. Banking right, she dodged another blast from the unicorn and brought both her opponents into her side view.

The earth pony turned to follow her, but remained rooted in her spot at the arena’s center. The unicorn, however, was slowly trotting in a small circle, keeping pace with Ember, waiting for her to turn to meet them and saving his energy.

Ember smiled even as the cracks in her hide expanded. Lengthening her strides, she barreled onward, kicking up clouds of charred dirt and ash with every step. All around her the ground trembled and shuddered as the earth pony sent pillars and sink holes to trip her up. The unicorn, however, waited. His horn wreathed in a cyan glow as he held back his magic to watch the galloping mare.

Bringing her opponents into a line, Ember jucked right, bearing a one pony stampede down on the unicorn.

The unicorn, his mark a pair of crossed thick red gloves, focused his magic into a single blast to put Ember down for good. He didn’t notice the black cloud that had been following Ember shrink and disappear behind her.

Boxer’s magic fired in the same moment Ember leapt into the air, wings of fire unfolding from her back to carry her over his head. The magical blast careened through the cloud, doing nothing to hinder its progress. Ash and char filled the air, stung his eyes and burned his lungs. Hammer’s warning call went unheard as Ember, landing behind the coughing and sputtering unicorn, gave her tail a single flick. The roaring inferno lasted only a moment, but left the unicorn laying on his side, sucking in lungfuls of carbon dioxide.

The two earth ponies glared at each other across the distance that separated them. Once again, it was Hamer who struck first. Repeating the same motion as before, Ember dodge left, only for the pillars of stone to fail to appear. Instead, a group of hoof sized rocks and sod jumped high into the air around Hammer.

Leaping straight up, she spun, hooves and tail sending the stones sailing toward Ember. Even as the flaming mare dodged most of the rocks, Hammer crashed to the ground and sent another salvo’s worth of stones into the air around her.

Ember growled as she fought to avoid barrage after barrage, her hooves scrambling and tail thrashing to keep the largest from reaching her. Her best efforts proved ineffective as stones made it past her guard, beating against her hide.

Screaming in pain and anger, Ember’s mane expanded, engulfing her flames from head to hoof.

Hamer barely had time to land before a hot, dry voice whispered in her ear.

“Boo.”

It was already too late to move, but she tried. A pair of back forelegs latched around her neck and held her fast. The metal plates designed to withstand almost any blunt force were useless against the heat radiating from the mare grappling with her. Both mare’s fell to the ground and rolled as Hammer fought to escape Ember’s death grip. In seconds sweat began to soak Hammer’s coat.

Caught in an oven, her skin beginning to bake beneath the conductive armour plates and every breath burning her throat, she finally stopped struggling and tapped Ember’s side twice with a hoof.

Ember released her and rolled to her hooves. Hammer remained prone as she tore off the over-heated plates of armor, desperate to escape the smoldering, glowing plates.

Ember’s victorious grin only lasted for a fraction of a second. The flames surrounding her, mane, fetlocks, and tail, winking out as she collapsed to her side. Her black, charred skin reverted to the warped pink of flesh, the cracks sealing up and her mark returning to its natural black state.

With no heat to keep it at bay, the cold air rushed over Ember, and she began to shiver uncontrollably.

A unicorn mare, who’d watched from the sidelines, galloped across the small arena of broken dirt, picking up the discarded parka as she did so. With practiced speed, she wrapped the shivering earth pony in both the parka and a hug, nearly crying as she worked what warmth she could back into Ember’s shivering form.

“C-c-c-co– c-c-c-co–”

The smaller mare squeaked and nodded violently at Ember’s chittering. Pulling a soot black rock from her saddlebags, she pressed it to Ember’s lips. The earth pony snapped it from the air, black flakes falling from her mouth as she crunched her way through the coal. A second and third were summarily consumed before her shivering finally began to abate.

Once Ember was coaxed to her hooves, she looked up into the stands. Only empty seats greeted her.

An aged unicorn mare, her face and sides pocked with old scars stepped forward, stone wore more expression. “You’ll do.” Ember nodded without looking away from the empty stadium seats, her mother still not appearing out of thin air. “Have you decided on a name, or am I going to have to pick one for you?”

Ember nodded again and finally broke off her search, two orbs of roiling magma staring into the coach’s eyes. “Yes,” she said, gritting her teeth to keep them from clicking, ”I have.”

Author's Notes:

A preview of characters and locations that I have planned for like... thirty chapters down the line, and my first real attempt to write dedicated scenes of combat.