So… It’s come to this, then? Just my luck, really. Persuasion has never been my forte, yet you are leaving me no other option. How could I possibly compel you to cease in this endeavor? How could I possibly stop you of all ponies, from continuing down this path?

Do you not care? Do you no longer feel empathy? Have you become so disconnected that you no longer appreciate that which you are trying to save?

Perhaps I should recount for you my journey, then? Teach you what I have learned in my time wandering the wastes? It could remind you of what it means to truly live. To learn. To laugh. To cry. To love.

I could tell you the tale of my entire life; it’s not as if I have much else to do, cooped up in my little prison as I find myself. I certainly have the time, thanks to you. But…. that seems a bit… excessive.

No, no. That won’t do. My entire life’s story would just lose your interest whilst I slog through endless minutia . Instead, I think I shall simply tell you of the ridiculous adventure that has become the defining experience of my life. I believe that I shall do my part to edit out a fair amount of the ‘uninteresting’ bits; there’s no need for all of the tedious details to be told. And to be perfectly honest, I probably wouldn’t be able to remember all of them anyway. But, with any luck, perhaps my tale will help to remind you of exactly what it is that you’re threatening to take away from me. Maybe that will move you. And maybe you will let me go.

Well then, how to start? Oh, don’t give me that. I’m a doctor, not a storyteller! It’s not as if I can just come up with this off the top of my head! Hmm…. Oh! I know! This might seem a little out of order at first, but trust me, it should work just fine. After all, it’s just like Mother used to say. “It’s important to know your roots. And your heritage.”

Hmm, nothing? I guess that only an alchemist could appreciate that old joke. Oh nevermind then, I’ll just start with the first chapter in Mother’s book. Oh? What’s that? Why yes, I do have it memorized.

It starts like this...

One of these days, girls, you may find yourselves wondering more about your heritage. I've decided to try and write some of my experiences down for the two of you, so you might be able to learn a bit more about my life, both before and after I met your father. Hopefully the two of you might be able to learn something from my own experiences. The chronicles of my life should be able to teach someone something, I hope.

I won't be around forever dears, but I want you to know that I love you both so much. I had some great times before I met your dad, but getting to meet and raise the two of you was so much more special than anything else I could have ever done.

Take care of your father for me, and take care of each other,
Love, Mom

The day that my life changed began just like any other day. Wind crept through the trees and brushed against my mane. It carried the familiar scents of rotting wood and sweet decay. I could hear the Everfree coming to life all around me, plants and animals stirred to action by instinct. That activity is what woke me; as the grey clouds that are ever-present in the sky would not allow the sun to pierce the canopy of leaves under which I slept.

Ugh, mornings. I've never cared for them. That may sound like blasphemy, coming from a zebra, but I never really adhered to the previous generation's superstitions about the night. Besides, it's easier to keep from being seen when the light of day isn't giving you away to anyone with at least one working eye.

It was my third trip, in as many months, into the forest for herbs. The Everfree had quite a lot to offer a student of alchemy, and I was an eager pupil. My family had taught me what they could but to truly learn something you just have to do it yourself. Instruction is nice, but experience is the best teacher.

I rose from my bedroll, donned my black traveling cloak, and began to sift through my packs for a meal. The only foodstuffs I had left were centuries-old cans of beans and corn. Not exactly the breakfast of champions, but I wouldn't starve either. I pried the lid off of one of the cans of corn, then dug in.

The rest of the morning proceeded in much the same manner. That is to say, it was boring. So I won't bother going over the details. What you need to know is that I was a young zebra-mare in the Everfree forest, I was looking for herbs, I had been there before, I knew what I was doing, I could take care of myself, I was at least somewhat prepared for a trek through treacherous terrain, and I was being very careful to not disturb the local wildlife.

The pony that came crashing through the undergrowth as if he were being chased by ravenous hellhounds, however, was none of those things. It's funny, really. Children will sometimes ask their parents how they met. Who gets to say that the first thing they did to their future husband was knock him out cold?

I may be the only one.

The blue unicorn leaped out over a bush, and was heading straight for me. I may have mistook his look of fear and surprise for a menacing war-face, but in my defense I was surprised too. I just react a little differently than most folks, I guess.

Drop stance, bend the knees, sweep out the leg, bring up the hoof. Under the jaw, across the muzzle, top of the neck, behind the head. He was out before he hit the ground. I stood still, savoring the silence, then realized that I had just knocked out some poor fool. Well, whatever. Mornings, and all that.

I decided that I should wake him up, as opposed to just leaving him lying there. It was the least I could do, really. I thought about tying him to a tree, but realized it wouldn't do much good against a unicorn. Opening a small jar of one of my more recent concoctions, I smeared some of the paste under his nostrils and sat on my haunches in front of him.

He woke up a moment later, “Owwwwwww.”

“First impressions can be disconcerting, I hope that ours will not leave you hurting.”

“Wha-what?” He blinked his eyes a few times and shook his head. “Oh Goddess! That didn't help....why did I think that would help?”

“My apologies for the bruise, but your entrance did not amuse.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, right. The jumping and the leaping and the running. Didn't mean to startle you. I was just tired of this endless forest and wanted out.” He pushed himself to his hooves, swaying gently.

“If, of the forest, you have grown weary, I'd visit the desert. It's quite airy.”

“Oh, yes. Dusty too. And full of rocks, and cacti, and boring as about anyplace could be.” He paused, poking a hoof in my direction as one of his eyebrows rocketed upwards, “Wait, hold up, just realized something. Sorry if I'm a little slow on the uptake here, but I did just get cold-cocked. Are you a zebra?”

I pulled my hood back. “Noticed that did you? Took you long enough. I thought I was gonna have to rhyme the whole conversation to get you to say anything about it.”

“Why would I say anything about you being a zebra?” He actually looked like he didn't know.

“Most ponies that I have come across were... not very welcoming, when we met.”

“Did you say 'Hello' to them with your hoof as well?” He rubbed the back of his head and winced.

“So far, you are unique in that regard.” I smiled, “Though I have, on occasion, said 'Farewell' in a similar manner.”

“Right... Well, anyway, my name's Dream Chaser. I'd say it's been a pleasure to meet you, but honestly, ow.”

I held a hoof over my heart as I gave a polite head nod, “Nadira. Let me get you something for the pain.”

So yes, that was how I met my husband. Don't judge your mother too harshly. With any luck you'll both soon find just how powerless we are against the wills of our hearts.

I learned that Dream Chaser was apparently a member of a caravan that was trying to gather supplies and take them southwest. He had gotten separated from the rest of his group when raiders had attacked them a few days ago, and was trying to find his way back to his village.

He seemed rather sure that his friends had already written him off as dead, “No, no. I’m no great fighter, haha. I’m better with fixing things, or fixing ponies. What with how those raiders were chasing me away from the group, they’ve probably all assumed that I’m decorating the interior of some structure in Manehattan by now.”

Having dealt with raiders before, it only took me a moment to understand what he meant by ‘decorating.’

“Of course, they can all keep thinking that for a while as far as I see it.” He continued, waving his hoof as if he were dismissing some small annoyance, “There are some things and places out here that I want to see before I have to go back.”

I told him about my alchemical training, hoof-to-hoof fighting, and all the other things I had picked up from my family. He seemed very interested when I told him that my great grandparents had come from Stable 3, and that the family had been trying ever since to rediscover our lost heritage.

I nodded, “Oh, yes. There are quite a few styles. Too many to name, really. I’ve already mastered the basics of Fallen Caesar, Rising Sun, and Still Water, but, to be honest… a lot has been lost to us over the years. Luckily, it didn’t take long to regain our alchemical expertise.” I couldn’t hide my prideful grin as I added, “I’m even better at brewing than my parents or sister.”

His eyes were wide and his jaw slack, “You can brew Zebra potions? The really complex ones?”

“Of course! I’ve even started making my own recipes!” After rummaging through my packs for a moment, I produced a short, fat little jar along with a re-used Sparkle-Cola bottle. “This white paste is called Sleeper’s Bane, it’s good for waking others up. And this purple liquid that helped soothe your pain? It is known as Sweet Water.”

He rubbed the back of his head again, “Heh, I wondered why you were giving me a healing potion that came out of a soda bottle…”

By the time the conversation had wound down a bit, it was becoming late enough that we both agreed we should be heading on. I told Dream Chaser how to exit the forest, then bid him farewell. I was just leaving when he asked the question that changed my life.

“So, uh, is there a 'Mr.' Nadira?” Oh yes girls, your father was quite the charmer.

I turned back to him and arched an eyebrow. “Beg pardon?”

“Well it's just that, uh, a pretty mare, out here, by yourself… I'd be worried about you if you and I were… uh, I didn't mean to imply that, err, I mean… ” It was actually kind of cute how he was stumbling over every other word.

“You. Were worried about me? Which one of us just got knocked out? I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Oh, of course, I… ”

“If anything, I'm worried about you.”

“What? I know what to do to get by out here!”

I smirked, “Oh? Make lots of noise and run straight at unsuspecting hoof-to-hoof specialists?”

“What? No, I didn't… I mean… ”

“Since you know how to get by out here so well, what are you gonna do next? Do you have any supplies? Weapons? Food? Medicine?”

“I, uh, I lost all of it except for my pistol.” He admitted, drooping his shoulders.

I sighed. “Well, come along then, you'd better come with me. We'll find some food to share and set up camp for the night. No funny business though, unless you want another headache.”

And that, little dears, is how I met the stallion of my dreams. Oh he didn't seem like much at first glance. But after that night, he volunteered to help me gather herbs. He was terrible at it, of course, but his presence was able to brighten even that gloomy wood. Somehow he always knew just what to say to lift my spirits. Before long, I found myself hanging on his every word. We continued in that fashion for the rest of the week, and afterwards, we returned to my parents.

They were… not as amused with Dream Chaser's words as I was. Perhaps they could tell, even before I could, that he had won me over. Perhaps they didn't like the idea of one of their daughters associating with a pony. Perhaps they simply didn't like him. Whatever their reasons, I'll never know. I was of age, and ready to see more of the world. Dream Chaser had ideas, plans, dreams. I wanted to experience more than the forest, or the safety of my family's hut. So I left.

I bade my sister and parents a fond farewell, and set out to see the world. Dream Chaser and I would travel together from place to place. He, healing ponies of their various physical ailments. I, protecting him while he did so. Along the way, we both learned a great deal about each other. He seemed to be driven by something greater than personal desire. When I asked him what it was that drove him to action, his answer surprised me.

I eyed him through the rising steam of our supper as I sprinkled more herbs into the soup. “Really? I didn't take you for a religious pony.”

His horn lit up as he focused his attention on stoking the flame underneath our meal. “I know. I don't act all high and mighty like some of my fellow practitioners. They all seem to think that it's imperative that we blot out anything that questions our faith. But I've seen the world like they never have. I know that parts of the teachings are wrong. I've seen the evidence with my own eyes, and I can't deny the truth when it stares me in the face. But I also think that I understand the real truth of our faith. I don't have to take the bad with the good.”

He smiled, staring into the bed of coals. “I have felt the warmth of the sun on my face when I traveled to the lands beyond the clouds, and it was not harsh, or burning, or evil. I felt the moon's light as well, and while I did feel a special connection to that heavenly body, it was no more special than the time I had spent praying at the altar of our goddess. I know that my religion isn't right about everything. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't have it's merits.”

Pausing for a moment, his gaze rose to meet my own. He continued a moment later, “Selenism teaches us to do our best works in secret, shrouded in darkness, that we may benefit others without becoming too egotistical. We shouldn't covet the property or domains of our fellows, and we shouldn't allow our emotions to dictate our actions. How could I say no to a religion that has, as a central tenet, a mandate to not let emotional attachment to that religion stymie the search for truth? I may interpret that last part differently from the priests in my stable, but that doesn't mean that I'm not right.”

Turning, he sighed as he walked over to the nearby ledge and looked out over the darkening valley that lay beneath us. “One day, I'm going to return home. I've been outside for a long time now.”

He paused, glancing back to me over his shoulder, “How long have we been together?”

I arched an eyebrow dangerously, “Have you truly forgotten so soon?”

“Désolé, mon chère. I apologize,” He was chuckling to himself while I continued to stir the bubbling pot, “I was simply making a point.”

After noticing my state of agitation he quickly added, “Ten months tomorrow, love. And every moment more wonderful than the last.”

I relaxed, and continued tending to our meal as a small smile spread across my features. It’s strange how such a simple word can have such a devastating impact.

His gaze grew distant, as he scanned the clouds and the valley below us, “Ten months… There's a lot that I could teach the other members of my stable, when I go back.” He sauntered back over to sit beside me, and whispered into my ear, “I... was hoping that you'd come with me.”

How could I say no?

Stable 76 was not exactly what I was expecting. A small cave entrance in a hidden canyon, deep in the desert, winding down to a busted up door? Not exactly the grandest of homes, but I couldn't deny that the seclusion would almost certainly guarantee a degree of safety. Stable 76 was a hole in the ground, true. But it was a safe hole in the ground.

It was also crowded. I suspect that the two of you will be used to the lack of personal space, having grown up within the confines of these steel walls, but I was born under an endless sky. I yearned for open spaces. Please forgive your mother for venturing out with the yearly caravan so often. I simply needed the space to breathe, and to reconnect with my wasteland roots.

The ponies of my new home did not take to me, at first. It took a lot of persuasion from your father, whom they were glad to see was still alive, and a lot of generosity with my potions to sway popular opinion. (I recall one colorful mare asking if I knew how to brew what she referred to as “Moonshine.” Unfortunately for her, I knew more about herbs than booze.) Eventually though, they all seemed to warm up to me. Or rather, they were at least willing to tolerate my presence.

A couple of them were actually rather enjoyable to be around. Dust, another outsider, was a particularly interesting fellow. I fear I may have beat him round the head too severely when he made an off comment about your father during one of our sparring sessions, but for the most part he was rather enjoyable. And since he was the leader of The Caravan, I had to let him win a couple of our matches. Eventually. Out of a sense of duty. (Please don't tell him that. It would break his heart.)

Those first few years were a little touch-and-go, for sure. But after the ponies got used to me, and realized that I wasn't there to wage a centuries-old war on them in their sleep, we all settled into our usual routines. Life in the Stable was safe, for sure. But it was also boring.

Your father and I ventured out with The Caravan at every opportunity for those first few years. He would always lend his medical expertise to the group, and the two of us would often go on scouting missions together. Dust would sometimes accompany us, but mostly it was simply your father and I.

Oh, how do I describe what it's like to be in the middle of a firefight with the love of your life at your back? To know that he trusts you, as much as you trust him, and knowing that together, nothing can stand against the two of you? How can I possibly put into words the exhilaration that comes from surpassing insurmountable odds?

I'll spare you the details of how your father and I celebrated our victories.

Don't roll your eyes at this poor book either, it might be all that's left of me before too long.

Once you were born, Candy, we realized that we couldn't be so reckless anymore. Your father and I took turns, venturing out with The Caravan, while the other stayed behind to watch after you. This continued when Nohta was born a few years later. From that point on, I believe that the two of you can probably remember what life was like for our family in Stable 76.

Once I grew ill, Dream Chaser stayed behind to look after me. I knew he wanted to be out there; getting into fights, righting wrongs, healing the sick, singing by a campfire at night. But he stayed with me, to try and heal this abominable illness.

Candy, please dear, don't blame yourself for my death. You're still far too young to have that burden upon your heart. And despite how hard you may study, no one is able to learn everything in a day. My coming death is not your fault, and there is no way for you to prevent it.

Nohta, darling, it may seem egotistical for me to acknowledge it, but you look just like me. While it has pleased me to no end to hear you say that you want to be just like me when you grow up, I can only hope that your life does not completely mirror my own. Please, don’t repeat my mistakes. I never did go back to find my sister. I loved her dearly, but never found the time to visit my old family and tell them about the two of you. Don't forsake family Nohta, and never stop trying to make friends.

I love you both, so, so much. I'm trying to hold out for as long as I can. Every day longer with the two of you is a day I seemed to have snatched away from the stars themselves. Pale Death beats equally at the poor mare's gate and at the palaces of princesses, but we don't have to let it take us without a fight.

If my parent's are right, then may our souls meet together in the ever-after. If your father's religion is right, then hopefully Luna will be amused at watching over the soul of a zebra. Either way, know that I'll be waiting for you. Make me wait a good, long time, ok?

Just remember one thing, daughters. Don't frown because our time together is over. Smile at the fact that we had any time together at all.

Now then, enough of this dreary, sappy stuff. How about some of your dear old ma's potion recipes, hmm?

Really? You weren’t moved at least a little by that? Mother was on her death-bed when she wrote those words. She poured her heart into the pages of her book. I… I must admit, her book has taught me quite a few things.

But nowhere within that tome was any mention of how heartless somepony like you could be.

I can see that this is going to take something greater than a few moments of emotional strife. This will require something a bit more… lengthy. A tale within which you shall have the opportunity to come to learn who I am, why I made my decisions, why I came to love those whom I called “friends.”

And why I came here.

Well then… I suppose there’s nothing left to do but to go ahead and tell my tale. As I said, forgive me if I happen to take some liberties with my re-telling of this journey. I would never consider myself the creative type, but every good story deserves a bit of embellishment, no? And besides, sometimes the truth is harder to believe than fiction. I believe that you, of all ponies, could appreciate that.

You see, I grew up in a hole in the ground. But it wasn’t just any hole in the ground, it was a Stable. Stable 76. And the first thing you should know about Stable 76 is…