It’s not everyday that you first step outside of The Stable. It’s a pretty exciting time for anyone living in Stable 76. That first time you step out past the huge, busted door, climb up to the top of the cave, move a little ways through the canyon, and see that massive expanse of openness is rather intense. It’ll take your breath away, for certain. It was pretty special for me the first few times I went outside with one of my parents; usually to learn about the local flora with Mother, or for my abysmal attempts at target practice with Father. However, after about the fifteenth time or so, the novelty starts to wear off, and you begin to realize that the surface around our home doesn’t really change all that much. It’s just a bunch of little shrubs, a few cacti, and a whole lot of dirt and rocks. There’s not much in the way of excitement, and not a whole lot of reasons for anyone to venture out towards our secluded home.

So, with that in mind, I’m sure you can understand my vexation with my little sister when she woke me up to share in her excitement for her first day outside.

“Candy, get up already! It’s almost time to leave!”

“Ugh!” A perfectly reasonable and exceptionally eloquent response at such an early hour, if you ask me. Doubly so before breakfast. Fortunately, I was safe from the rest of the world underneath my bed sheets.

“Candy, seriously. Get up, or we’re gonna be late.” Now she was poking me with those ruthless hooves of hers. “C’mon, I made you breakfast and everything.”

“Nohta, what time is it?” I groaned.

Nohta’s tone was insistent, “It’s three in the morning, we’ve only got about an hour before we have to go.”

“The pious make the most of the night, dear sister…” I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

She was having none of that, however, “We don’t have any night left! The Caravan leaves in just a little bit!”

Wakefulness has its uses, but they seem so tawdry and miniscule when you’re still in your bed and only just beginning to attain consciousness. Still, something she said was niggling at me. “Wait, what time did you say?”

“Three!”

Sure enough, the white interface of my Pipbuck verified that it was entirely too late to be laying about. While I loathed the idea of leaving the warmth of my bed, it simply wouldn’t do to be late for such an important event. “Alright, alright, you win.” I pulled the covers down off of my head and was greeted by my sister’s wide, purple eyes.

“Yes! Today’s gonna be awesome! I’m finally gonna get to see the outside, and we get to go on a trip, and none of those jerks from class are gonna be there! Best day ever!” She was practically bouncing by my bed, her zebra-coat almost mesmerizing to my sleep-deprived mind.

She looked so much like Mother that it hurt. Same stripe pattern. Same dark-grey on light-grey coat. Same striped, grey mane, styled in that cute, little mohawk that tilted off to the side. Truly, there were only minor differences to set her appearance apart from Mother’s. Her tornado cutie mark gave her away for a zony instead of a true zebra. Instead of Mother’s dark-green eyes, Nohta’s eyes were a light purple. She was a little shorter than Mother as well, but that was probably just because of her age. Nohta may not have been fully grown, being on the last leg of a late growth spurt, but she was almost as strong and quick as any adult in The Stable. Honestly, she was quite a bit faster than I was. And I could be quite expeditious if the mood so struck me.

I did not want to be quick this morning, however. I wanted to be lazy and sleep in, but the needs of The Stable necessitated that I bid my blanket and pillows a fond, if reluctant, farewell. I slumped out of bed, nearly landing on my side as the sheets tangled themselves in my legs, and proceeded to shuffle my way to the kitchen as Nohta lead the way through our mutual domicile.

The soft illumination offered by the overhead lighting revealed the tidy, well-kept living quarters that Nohta and I shared with Father. The majority of our meager living space was dominated by the sitting area near the old jukebox and ratty sofa that Father simply refused to get rid of; a lone hold-out of uncleanliness in an otherwise spotless room. Books which had been read so often as to be driven to the point of dog-eared pages and flimsy spines sat upon the shelves that lined the walls.

The rest of the space in the main room of our abode was taken up by the kitchen, with its spartan stainless-steel decor. Cooking pans and utensils hung from their racks above the table, gently swaying in unison to the distant vibrations of one of the centuries-old generators that supplied our home with electricity.

As the two of us entered the room, one of the long, cylindrical lights flickered for a moment before going out with a small 'Pop.' I would have made a mental note to remind the maintenance workers to fix it, but they were busy enough trying to keep the rest of our stable from falling apart without having to worry about a light that wouldn't be seeing use for months. And besides that, I was much too hungry to remember anything quite so complicated.

“I got your favorite! Apple Sugar-Bombs! I even scrounged up a few Sparkle-Colas, too.” Nohta offered the small bowl of heaven to me as my ears automatically perked up at the promise of a very complete and balanced breakfast. I sat at the small kitchen table and began eating as the soft, red light of my levitation spell cast its familiar glow on our immediate surroundings.

“Are you all packed?” I asked, “It’s a long trip, you don’t want to forget anything.” Now supplied with glucose, my mind was starting to function at a proper level, allowing me to carry a conversation.

She bounced around the kitchen table excitedly, “Yup, got everything in my bags. I can pack your stuff too if you want me to.”

“Don’t worry about it, dear. I’ll take care of my things. I still need to acquire a few items from the clinic before we set out, anyway.” I popped the cap off of one of the bottles and took a drink. The cool, carroty flavor mingled well with the overly-sweet deluge of apple from the cereal. I looked around the kitchen, and realized that somepony was missing. “Where’s Father?”

“Dad already left a little while ago,” Nohta slid into a chair at the table and continued, “he said he had to organize a few things for The Caravan.”

“Hmm, that makes sense. I imagine he has quite a lot to take care of this morning.” I sat the bottle down and levitated the cap up to my eyes so I could take a better look at it. Surfacers actually used these as a form of currency? How odd.

Nohta, meanwhile, was busy barraging me with questions, an almost manic excitement spread across her face, “What’s it like out on the surface? Is it hard to breathe? How often does it rain? What does rain even feel like?”

Nohta had never been to the surface. Quite a shame really, since most ponies her age had been at least a couple of times. Father and I were always busy with our work at The Stable’s clinic, so neither of us could find the time to take her. And of course, anypony else that could teach her anything of value was either much too busy, or would never even consider helping her. Most of The Stable didn’t care much for my little sister.

I looked across the table as I continued eating, “Big, and open. No, the air is, if anything, clearer than it is down here. It rains often enough that the plants don’t all die. Like a cold shower, that’s everywhere all at once. Don’t worry Nohta, you’ll get to see it all in just a little while. I need to get going though, if I’m going to be on time.”

“Okay, okay.” She groused.

I finished my cereal, thanked my sister, brushed my teeth, and fetched my towel and lab-coat. I intended to take advantage of the showers while I still had the chance. The grey, metal halls of Stable 76 were almost empty, but the mare’s shower room was already thick with steam when I arrived. Several of the regular members of the annual caravan were trying to savor their last chance at hot water. The early maintenance shift and breakfast cooks were beginning to arrive as well.

Setting my things down on a bench by the sinks, I proceeded to step into the showers. The hot water was a treat, just like my breakfast, that I knew I wouldn’t get to experience for a long, long while. I was just about done washing up when I realized that I could overhear a few of the other mares talking.

“...wise to send her out? She has such a temper. What if she does something reckless?”

“I’m not sure if it’s wise to keep her here, especially with her father’s position in The Caravan and her sister going as well. She’s the only one that can keep that little hoodlum in check. We should be thankful to get a few months without her.”

They were talking about Nohta. Of course they were talking about Nohta. Everypony seemed to believe that she was some sort of delinquent troublemaker. But did they ever bother to get her side of the story? No. Did they ever see the bruises? Of course not, I was the one that healed those. Did they ever wonder why she was always trying to find a way into the dark areas of The Stable where nopony could find her?

Actually, that last one was at least partially my fault. Once, quite a few years ago, after Nohta had gotten in trouble for fighting three days in a row, I had suggested to her that she simply try to avoid the bullies. I should have been able to predict her next actions. She had taken my advice, and asked Mother how to avoid her assailants. I loved Mother dearly, but the advice of a zebra assassin from the wastes was hardly ever conducive to good relations with our neighbors in The Stable. She had taught Nohta the basics of lockpicking, and Nohta had taken to it like a fish to water, much to the horror of most of The Stable’s staff.

I learned a long time ago that speaking up in Stable 76 didn’t really do anything useful. There wasn’t anypony besides Father that I could talk to about Nohta, and he was already doing everything in his power to assuage everypony’s fears that she was a simple delinquent. Nopony would consider any other reason for her actions than what they had already assumed, which was that she started fights and picked locks for no reason other than to be a general nuisance. Still, we were setting out soon, and I didn’t really feel like having to listen to snide remarks about my sister on our last day in The Stable. I was just about to speak up when somepony beat me to it.

“Shut up you two, I’m tired of hearing your nagging. Nohta’s not as bad as you think. The real problem is the gang of idiots that keeps messing with her. ‘The Cave Eels,’ or whatever they call themselves. If not for them, she’d be as sweet as her sister.”

I couldn’t see over the dividers in the showers, but I could tell from the voice that it must have been Pipe Sleeves, one of the maintenance mares. She was one of the only ponies in The Stable that didn’t immediately write off Nohta as a miscreant. I decided not to join in the conversation after all.

“Oh please, you’re just saying that because she acts all sweet and innocent in front of you.”

“No, I’m saying that because I bothered to hear her side of the story instead of just judging her like the rest of you lot.”

“And when did you hear it, hmm? After she broke into one of the maintenance tunnels and tried to avoid punishment by feeding you a sob-story? I’m telling you, that filly is trouble.”

“Whatever. Like I care what a couple of mane-dressers have to say, anyway.”

The hot water didn’t hold quite as much appeal anymore. I turned the knob and left the still-dripping shower head behind as I made my way to the sinks, and away from the disparaging comments regarding my sister. The mirrors were completely fogged up but, after a moment’s effort, I was able to wipe away enough of the condensation to see my reflection.

My obnoxiously pink mane was still wet, and hanging down to just past my shoulders. It was parted by my horn, and framing my nearly-white face. As the day went on and it started to dry out, it would find its way into its usual loosely-curled strands all on its own. The two pink stripes on my face, just under my blue eyes, were partially concealed by my mane. I levitated my towel over to myself and began to dry off. With my mane out of the way I could see the rest of my coat, stark-white save for the pink marking on my flank.

As jarring as the contrast of my colors might have been, I always thought it was my glyph mark that seemed to stand out the most. Nohta and I used to joke about how weird it was that she looked exactly like a zebra but had a cutie mark, while I could almost pass for a unicorn, but had a glyph mark. Mother once told me that my glyph was the Zebra sign for “One who makes others whole.” I wasn’t going to disrespect my own heritage in front of Mother, but, well... it looks like a big, pink ‘plus’ sign with some squiggles around it, ok?

I donned my Stable-Tec lab-coat and tossed the towel in the receptacle. It would head down a level to Laundry, but I needed to pack my things so I would be ready to depart. More ponies were waking up now, and the halls were starting to fill with busy ponies dashing this way and that, trying to gather one last thing or say goodbye to one last friend or loved one before The Caravan set off. I rounded the last corner and hurried into The Stable’s clinic, trotting straight into Father’s assistant.

The rather annoyed looking unicorn glanced from his now tea-stained lab-coat to me and sighed. His atypical, monotone voice droned out a greeting, ”Hello, Candy.”

“Oh! I’m sorry Pearl Grey, I didn’t see you there. I just came by to pick up some supplies for The Caravan.”

“Of course you have.” Pearl levitated his teacup back in front of him, then used his magic to refill it. “Your father was here earlier, he put together some things for you. They’re in a bag on the counter in the back.”

“Thank you, Pearl.” I said, then added, with my best apologetic smile, “and um, sorry about the tea.”

Pearl stared at me over his steaming cup. “Candy, are you sure you’re ready for this? You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, I’m sure. My sister is going, and I need to be there for her.” I had made up my mind about the trip a long time ago. Father’s tales of the surface had enticed me for far too long. “Besides, I want to see the world, like Mother and Father did. Why do you ask? Is something wrong?”

“I just think that you might still be too young for this sort of thing, is all.” That stung. And it wasn’t even true! “Yes, your father was very adamant about you going, but I can’t really justify sending two of our three doctors on the expedition.”

“I’m sure that you’ll be perfectly capable of handling anything that comes up here, Pearl. As for my age, I’ve been eligible to join the expedition for three years now. I’ve just been waiting for Nohta to catch up. Come on, Pearl, have a little faith in me!” My attempt at a reassuring smile probably wasn’t the most convincing, but he did relent.

“Candy,” his stern face softened for a moment, “be careful out there, okay? I know you’ve been outside before, but that was just for a few hours at a time. The caravan trip is important. And very dangerous.”

“I will Pearl. Thanks again.” Pearl was nice enough, being basically neutral about everything, but I still had a lot to do this morning.

I was making my way through the sterile-white rooms of the clinic, in search of the bag of medical supplies, when I noticed that not all of the beds in the clinic were empty. There was a little, red filly whom I had never seen before with a cast on one of her legs and an IV in another. There was still a little time to spare. I walked over to her, gave her a warm smile, and asked what her name was as I started checking her chart.

“Cherry Blossom,” she replied. “Are you a doctor, too?”

“Mmhmm, my name’s Candy.” Her chart informed me that a faulty pipe had explosively burst last night in one of the bathrooms, completely shattering the upper portion of the metatarsal of her rear, right leg. There was a fair deal of damage done to her talus, tarsus, carpus, and calcaneus bones as well. The entire knee was in pretty bad shape, really. Luckily not much damage had been sustained to the fibula, but that was a small blessing when faced with so many broken bones. Additionally, she was suffering from some mild poisoning due to the chemicals that were traveling through the pipe spilling out and soaking into her coat. “Oh, you poor dear, it looks like you had an awful night. But you should really be asleep, you know. If you don’t get any rest, your body won’t be able to heal itself right.”

She frowned, “I couldn’t sleep, my brother’s going on the expedition and I’m worried about him.”

Ahh, of course. I laid a hoof on top of her’s, “I know how you feel, sweetie. I’m going on the expedition, too. So is my little sister. But so are lots of ponies that have been plenty of times before, and they all know what they’re doing. I’m sure your brother will be just fine.” I tried to soothe her worries, but persuading ponies had never been my area of expertise, and the doubt and fear on her face showed it.

“Hmm, give me one second, okay?” I walked over to the counter where the bag of medical supplies was located. The cabinets above the counter held all manner of medicines. I levitated out a mild sedative and prepared a small paper cup of water from the nearby water fountain. “Okay, here you go, take this. And drink all the water, okay? It will help you sleep.”

She looked at the small pill and then back to me, “Why do ponies have to go on the expedition anyway?”

“Well, you know that pipe that burst last night? That’s one of the reasons. We need spare parts for repairs to our home. We also need lots of other things, like food and medicine.” Weapons and ammunition, too, but she could wait a few years to find out about that.

She took the pill and drank the water, then looked back up to me and asked, “But why do they need my brother? Couldn’t they let him stay here?”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the only participants of the expedition were volunteers; regular members of The Stable who simply took it upon themselves to gather the necessary supplies required to keep our home in habitable condition. Instead I sat by her bed, gently stroked her mane, and tried to reassure her that her brother would be ok until she fell asleep. I was starting to run out of time, but I wasn’t going to leave without doing one last thing.

I closed my eyes, and focused my magic, reaching out with my consciousness to ‘feel’ her shattered knee. A dull ache flared in my hind-leg, coupled with mild nausea, as my special talent took effect. I felt her pain as my own now. I concentrated on her knee, and was able to sense the extent of the damage; little shards of bone were in all the wrong places, threatening to cut and stab the ligaments and muscles of her leg. There was quite a decent amount of bruising as well. I could tell that another unicorn had been trying to set the bones earlier, probably Father. The work wasn’t shoddy, by any means; Father was still a more knowledgeable doctor than I. But he didn’t possess my special talent, it just wasn’t something he was capable of. I checked her heart rate and breathing, to make sure she was sleeping deeply enough for what I was about to do, then I set about re-arranging the shards of bone with my magic, fusing them together with my special talent. I made others whole. She’d be walking again in a couple of days.

I grabbed the bag of medical supplies with my magic and gently levitated it into place upon my back. My PipBuck registered an exorbitant amount of healing potions, as well as quite a few syringes of Med-X, some bandages, forceps, tweezers, gauze, rubbing alcohol, and all manner of other medical supplies. Much more than we could use for the injuries sustained on the road. We’d be healing any surface ponies that needed aid as well as our own. I took one last look at the little room that I had spent so much time in since I earned my glyph mark, and then I left the clinic.

Nohta was busy cleaning the kitchen area when I got back to our quarters. I walked back to the bedroom that I shared with her and grabbed the saddlebags that I had stored under my bed. I packed my spare lab-coat, a few books I had received from Mother and Father, and finally, my little laser pistol. Father had attempted to train me in its use, but I really wasn’t very good with it. I had only fired the little thing a few times; ammunition for it was somewhat scarce.

Whilst stuffing everything else in my bags, I secured the pistol in its holster on my right foreleg. I still didn’t like the look of it. Magical energy weapons were notorious for completely destroying their victims. Bullets could be pulled out, and their wounds healed up. Same thing for knives. Even an explosion could be weathered and the damage healed if you got lucky. But not even the best doctor could heal a pile of ash.

Nohta finished with the kitchen just as I finished packing. I set my gear next to hers and checked the time on my PipBuck. We still had 15 minutes before we had to be at the meeting room. I was cutting it close.

“Nohta.” I’d have to be gentle.

“Ya, Sis?” She looked over at me from the kitchen sink.

“We won’t be coming back here for a long time. Depending on how long it takes us to get everything we need, it could be quite a while. Do you want to say goodbye to Mother?”

Her head sank, “Ya.”

I walked over to her and nuzzled her neck. “Come on. We’ll go together.”

We walked back to the little closet behind our bedroom and I pushed the button on the door. It opened with a soft hum, and we stepped inside. The space was dark, but the illumination from the rest of our quarters was more than sufficient for our needs. We could see the table and what was on top of it just fine.

The picture frame that held Mother’s face sat undisturbed on the small table. “Nadira” was engraved on the bottom of the frame. Mother’s green amulet, a polished shard of malachite with her elegantly swirling glyph mark etched into its center, lay just in front of the frame. Nohta lit a stick of incense and set it in a small bowl in front of Mother’s picture. Then we both sat on our haunches, closed our eyes, and bowed our heads; just like Mother used to do for her parents.

Mother had passed away years ago. Cancer, brought on by overexposure to radiation, of all things. If it had been anything else, we might have been able to help her. We might have been able to have done... something. Instead we were forced to watch as the tumors ate away at the most caring, loving, and graceful individual we had ever known. She died in a bed in the clinic. Not at all the warrior’s death she had hoped for, but she fought it for as long as she could, all the same.

Father and I were devastated when Mother died. Neither of us were able to do much of anything besides cry and sleep for the week that followed. Nohta, however, had taken it much harder. She had idolized Mother, trying to follow in her every hoofstep. When Mother passed, Nohta changed. She stopped laughing. She stopped trying to impress anypony with her athletics. She stopped practicing all of her hobbies. The only things she had kept up with were the things that Mother was known for; fighting, and lockpicking. In every sense, Nohta was still trying to live up to her romanticized notion of a parent she had known for far too little time.

I could hear Nohta sniffling softly, trying to hide the fact that she was on the verge of tears. I put my foreleg around her shoulders, and pulled her close to me. There wasn’t any hiding what came next.

We walked into the meeting room together, our eyes still raw. Everypony else was already gathered, and roll call had begun. The leader of The Caravan was standing behind the podium at the head of the long room and calling out names in alphabetical order.

We stood near the back, waiting for our names to be called. I took the opportunity to set the bag of medical supplies on the floor. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and it was rather heavy. The caravan leader was just finishing the A’s when a familiar beige face popped excitedly into my view.

“Candy! I was hoping to see you before you left!” The bubbly earth pony in front of me was one of my oldest friends. “Oh, your little sis is here too! Hey Nohta, what’s up?”

“Hello Caramel, it’s good to see you.” I had always found it hard to not smile around Caramel, her happiness was infectious. “Nohta and I are just about to set out.”

“Think you packed enough stuff?” She poked at the bulging bag at my hooves.

“Medical supplies from the clinic,” I explained, “all of our actual belongings are in our saddlebags.”

“I was joking with you, sugar.” She chuckled, turning to Nohta, “How is she still this gullible?”

Nohta had perked up at the sight of one of the few ponies whom she could get along with, “You got me, you’d think she would’ve learned something by now.”

I snorted in response, sticking my nose in the air in indignation. “Gullible? Hmph, I’ll have you know that when I started studying medicine, one of the first things I learned was how to spot a filly playing sick to get out of taking a test.”

“Not too observant when it comes to the stallions, though, are you?” Caramel smirked.

“I, huh? Wha?”

“Rumor has that it that Spicy Salsa has been trying to catch your eye for a while now. Maybe he just wants to say he’s sorry because of how much of a mule he was when we were little. But from what I’ve been hearing, it’s a lot more than that, sugar.” She winked at me. ”You know,” she grinned wickedly at me, “he’s not bad looking since he lost all that weight.”

“I, uh, really?” Somepony liked me?

The caravan leader called out, “Butterscotch!”

Caramel glanced at the crowd of expectant caravaneers, “Yup. Looks like roll call is about to get you. Hey, before you have to go, I wanted you two to have something.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, brown, paper bag. “Open it up once you’re on the road, okay? No peeking!” She gave us a warm smile and trotted off to the gathering crowd of ponies who were seeing their loved ones off today.

I hadn’t ever thought about somepony liking me before. I was always focused on my job at the clinic. It was just a rumor, true, but it felt… nice. I didn’t think anypony would ever want to be with me.

My introspection into the lack of any romantic encounters in my life was cut short when the caravan leader’s gruff voice called out, “Candy Stripes!”

“Here!” I waved my hoof to make sure he saw me, then looked to my sister. “See you again soon, okay?”

“Yup.” She sat on her haunches, it would be awhile before she got called.

I levitated the bag before me as I made my way to the front of the room with the others. I got a few sideways glances, like usual, but nothing too bad. I had a much better track-record for making friends than my sister.

Setting the bag of medical supplies on the table, I surveyed the other members of the expedition. Now that I was closer to him, I was able to get a good look at the caravan leader. He was in exceptional shape for his age, with a body hardened by the perils of life outside The Stable. There was a little grey creeping into his dark brown mane, and he had a few visible scars on his tan neck. His leather barding was scratched and worn. In comparison, the other members and I looked soft and pampered.

I suddenly realized that we just might have been.

I sat down on the bench and waited for roll call to finish, keeping myself busy by organizing all of my things in my pack with my Pipbuck. Father had taught Nohta and I a few basic functions of the little device that he had said would come in handy on the surface. How to instantly organize everything that you were carrying, how to keep track of someone else from our Stable, the map feature, the radio, the personal health and status feature; all sorts of little spells and applications. I was rather intrigued by the Eyes-Forward-Sparkle feature, it could apparently judge someone’s intent, and would paint their corresponding marker red if they were hostile. I had no idea how it worked, but Father had been utilizing the function on his own Pipbuck all his life, and was able to attest, first-hoof, as to how beneficial it was. I trusted his judgement. I was only hoping that I would never have to use the Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell. I didn’t relish the idea of getting into a fight.

Before long, roll call had proceeded to the N’s. When the caravan leader finally called out “Nohta!” a hushed silence fell over the crowd.

“Right here!” Yelled Nohta. The crowd was whispering, and quite a few of them were openly staring, but Nohta kept her head high as she walked straight to the front area.

The caravan leader looked down at Nohta from behind the podium. “So, you’re Nohta.” The room was silent.

“Yup.” She met his stare with her own. Luna bless her, she wasn’t backing down even when half The Stable was staring at her.

He shuffled some papers, “I have a note here from the Overmare that says you know how to pick locks, and that you routinely get into fights, even when outnumbered?”

She paused, but didn’t look away. “Yes. It’s all true.”

The caravan leader shifted his weight onto another leg. “Being able to pick locks is not something that most ponies here would view as a good thing.” The crowd’s whispers grew in volume as they started to voice their collective disapproval of Nohta’s clandestine skills when he spoke up again, “Out in the wastes though, being able to pick locks has saved my life more times than I can count. I’m glad to finally have another pony with that skill along for the trip.”

The crowd was silent. I was just trying to conceal my smile behind a hoof. Nohta was never one to worry about what others thought of her though, and the smirk on her face showed it. “Zony, actually, and I’m glad to be going.”

The caravan leader nodded and motioned for her to take a seat, then resumed roll call. Nohta walked over and sat next to me. Still wearing that cocky little grin, she asked, “How was that, Sis?”

I rolled my eyes (though my grin may have belittled the token show of disapproval by a marginal amount) and hugged her. Then we both started looking through the food and water rations that were piled on the table. It took a while, but I was able to scrounge together a few boxes of Apple Sugar Bombs and Fancy Buck cakes to compliment the more traditional fare of pre-war convenience dinners and canned vegetables. Some of the centuries-old food was palatable, but most of it made my stomach queasy. Food was not meant to be lying around for hundreds of years before someone ate it! That’s how you get stomach cramps. Well, either that or buprenorphine, but I hardly ever prescribed that for my patients.

While we were busy with the food, the caravan leader had finished roll call. The ponies in the room were all neatly divided now. The members of the expedition were all near the tables, and those who were staying behind were at the back of the room, by the doors leading into the rest of The Stable.

The Overmare joined the caravan leader by the podium, and prepared to make her speech. She was an older mare with a white mane and a dark green coat. Her voice rang out over the crowd with the kind of comfortable and easy authority that long-term leaders so often slip into, “Fillies and gentlecolts! Thank you for gathering here this morning.” The crowd settled down and hushed up, eager to to get things underway. “As you all know, we are not a self-sufficient Stable. Several decades ago, most of our systems began failing at a fairly regular rate, and we lack the raw materials needed for repairs. Some thought that we should abandon our home completely, but it was my predecessor’s belief that this out-of-the-way location would guarantee us some safety. So, with that in mind, we had to devise a system through which we might gather the resources required to repair Stable 76. We had to send out The Caravan.”

The ponies who were staying behind were all staring with reverence at the group by the tables. The Caravan was something of an honored tradition. We were responsible for gathering the supplies needed to maintain our home, and everypony knew just how important that was.

There was a bustle at the back of the crowd, and several mumbled voices were whispering surprised apologies. The crowd parted slightly as somepony made their way towards the front.

“Oh yes, um, pardon me. Sorry about that. Oh, did I get your tail?” The throng of onlookers parted fully, and Father stepped out in front of the crowd, carrying overstuffed bags on his back and levitating more packages behind him. Mother had always said that Father was late for everything. As far as I could tell, she had been right.

Father’s coat was a pale blue. The same sort of blue that the sky was supposed to be, according to all the pictures in the foal’s books. His cutie mark was covered by his lab coat, but I knew it to be a fluffy white cloud with a series of “Z’s” trailing behind it. Father’s curly mess of a light brown mane was getting in his golden eyes as he trotted up to the podium. “Err, hehe, sorry I’m late, ma'am.”

“Dream Chaser. Glad you could join us.” The Overmare gave him a look, but quickly turned back to address the crowd. “Now that we’re all here, The Caravan’s leader will begin to assign roles and divide responsibilities amongst those leaving us. To the ponies of The Caravan: Follow Dust’s orders as you would follow my own, come back to us safely, and may Luna watch over you.”

In hindsight, it wasn’t much of a speech, but it did get the ball rolling. The caravan leader, Dust, set about telling us all who was in which group and what our responsibilities would be while we were on the road. Since there weren’t that many members in The Caravan, some had heavier loads to carry than others. Some ponies’ responsibilities simply amounted to hauling anything heavy, like the various wagons and carts that would carry our supplies, while others had more specialized tasks. Father and I represented the entirety of the medical team.

Father came over to Nohta and I, and laid his various bags on the table. “Hey girls, did you sleep well?”

“Yup, sure did!” Nohta was getting excited again.

I sat down a box of centuries-old bubblegum and turned to speak to him, “Yes, Father, we managed to sleep well enough. Where were you? I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it.”

“I had to take care of a few last minute things.” His eyes glanced over to the bag of medical supplies from the clinic, “You got the bag, good. That’s important. Yes, you wouldn’t want to forget that.”

“You ok, Dad?” Nohta squinted her eyes and stared at him.

“You do appear to be a bit flustered, Father,” I observed.

“Oh, I’m fine, just a bit too much coffee is all. Now Nohta, I know that you’d prefer to stay with your sister, but she and I will be busy with our duties on the road. However, there may be a good alternative. Dust has already inquired about taking you under his wing, so to speak, and I think that you could learn a fair deal from him. He made a rather decent case for nurturing your, ah, talents, and I believe he has the right idea. I know that he can teach you well, he used to spar with your mother, and I don’t know anypony else who is better at picking locks.”

“You mean, you want me to just stay with him all the time?” Nohta’s ears drooped.

He waved his hooves in front of himself, “Oh, heavens, no! You’ll join Candy and myself for evening meals, and well, the three of us will probably all end up sharing the same tent, I do hope it’s big enough. But I just want you to sort of follow him around and pick up all the information he can give you.” He leaned in closer and almost whispered, “Also, get into a few good sparring matches with him. Preferably sooner, rather than later.” Gesturing towards me, he finished with a mischievous wink, “Candy shouldn’t be fixing any broken bones the first few days, I’m sure she can handle whatever the two of you do to each other.”

“Oh yes, thank you for the extra workload, Father. Not to mention the fact that you just encouraged your youngest daughter to get into a fight where she will now expect to be wounded.” I couldn’t help it, Father always brought out my sardonic side.

“Heh, better she learn what it’s like to get into a real fight when she’s in the relative safety of The Caravan than getting jumped by raiders or ghouls in the middle of a scavving run.” He leaned back and gave me a cocky little grin. Father and I both had a mutual love of needling the other when we knew that we were right. And he was right often enough that he almost needed his own pin-cushion. Almost.

I conceded, “Fine, fine. I suppose that makes sense. I still don’t like it.”

Father turned to Nohta again, “Okay, so will you go with Dust, Nohta?”

“If it means I get to learn how to fight for real, then ya, I want to do it.” She looked at me, “I’ll be fine, Sis. I promise I’ll try to not get hit.” I had to roll my eyes at that one, but I didn’t object any further.

“Ok, good. So, as you know, I’m second-in-command of this little excursion, and that means I get to make a few calls of my own.” He started digging through his bags and pulled out a few packages. “These are for you, girls. You weren’t allowed to have them while in The Stable, but since we’re technically under a different jurisdiction now...” He trailed off with a sly grin on his face.

Nohta and I looked at what lay before us. For Nohta; a set of gleaming brass horseshoes and a black cloak. For me; a small, black matte case, and a brown leather-bound book with no title.

Father was wearing a melancholy smile, “They were your mother’s. I’ve waited to give you these for far too long,”

Nohta and I stared at what lay on the table before us.

Nohta began, “These were...”

“...Mother’s?” I finished.

“I know. I wish I could have given them to you sooner.” Father sighed, then nudged the packages toward us. “She wanted you to have them.”

That case. I had seen it before. Mother had always carried it on her when she ventured outside The Stable. Could it really be what I thought it was?

My hooves trembling, I popped open the case’s small, metal latch, and gently levitated it open. It was Mother’s alchemical set. I could almost hear her voice then, echoing through the years, “Alchemy is just like chemistry, Candy. You like chemistry, don’t you? Just think of it as chemistry… with magic.”

The tools with which nearly any potion could be crafted lay encased in soft, grey foam. Tiny, graduated, glass beakers and pipettes were held in place next to a porcelain mortar and pestle. A set of brass scales and weights rested beside an array of stirring apparati. And taking up nearly an entire side of the case by itself sat a smooth, flat, polished oval of onyx with a chaotic swirl of blazing-orange dancing along its surface; Mother’s fire talisman. If Father had just given me Mother’s alchemical set, then that could only mean…

I hoofed through a few pages of the book. It was Mother’s recipe book! Every potion she had ever learned how to make, or had concocted herself, was written in here. Sentimental value notwithstanding, the tome was still priceless! It had little doodles from all aspects of her life in the corners. Little poems lined the margins. Some of the pages were diary entries, some of them mouth-drawn illustrations of plants or animals. It was a treasure trove to any who had skill in alchemy, and to me it was worth so, so much more.

Beside me, Nohta was already trying to get into the cloak. It was more a set of armor than just something to keep the wind off your flank. Large sections of hardened, black leather covered her legs, chest, barrel, and stomach while the loose fabric flowed across her back and down her flanks. Little looping symbols were woven into the fabric, and from the way it seemed stiff in certain areas, I was betting that there were plates of some other material concealed within the folds to protect the wearer. The cloak had leather straps hooked around it to support bags and satchels, extra pockets for hiding items, and a very dashing hood that came down to conceal her eyes.

When she finally got it on, she stood up from the table and walked around to gauge the fit. The red and gold under layers flashed as brilliantly as her grin when she trotted around the table. I noticed that the cloak’s armored patches, along with her PipBuck, were doing a great job of concealing her stripes.

“Wow, this is awesome!” Nohta was prancing around, showing off her new regalia to any onlookers that happened to notice her.

I was fighting back tears again, “Thank you, Father. I haven’t been able to practice alchemy since before… a long time.” Since before Mother had passed.

Father started packing some rations into his bags, “Well, the both of you will get chances aplenty to use those soon enough. I’m allowing you both some spare time every night when we stop to train your skills a bit.”

Dust walked over to us, the rest of the group having been addressed and everypony getting ready to set out. He looked directly at Father. “Get everything squared away?”

“Yes.” Father replied. “Everything is in order. I was actually just seeing how Nohta liked the idea of studying under you for a while.”

Nohta stopped and looked up at Dust, “Dad said you used to spar against Mom?”

“HA!” Nohta and I were taken aback by the sudden show of mirth on Dust’s face. “If by ‘spar’ you mean, ‘She kicked my flank until my coat was more black-and-blue than tan’ then yes, I ‘sparred’ with her. She eventually beat a proper education in hoof-to-hoof combat into my thick head while teaching me how to not get hit, and my hide has been thankful ever since. I remember enough of her zebra style that I should be able to instruct you in some of it. It’s going to hurt; but I can teach you, if you’re willing to learn.”

“I am. I want to learn how to fight like Mom did.” The sincerity in my sister’s voice was apparent.

The older buck seemed to size her up for a moment before nodding his consent, “We’ll start tonight.”

Turning to the rest of the caravan, he belted out our first command, “Alright you lot! We move in five! Get everything stowed away and get in your groups!” Turning back to Nohta, he added, “Stick with me kid, there’s a lot that I want to talk to you about.”

We were moving soon afterward. Father, Dust, Nohta and I stayed together, somewhere towards the front of the mass of ponies making their way towards The Stable’s entrance. Nearly everypony else was lined up along the walls in the hallways and wishing us well as we made our way to the big, busted door.

Long ago, The Stable’s door had malfunctioned, and the air scrubbers had stopped working at the same time. With no backup system to speak of, the ponies of that generation had panicked and blown the door out of place. The entrance was still a blasted wreck; the metal twisted, burnt, and rusting. The door itself looked like a giant cog; thick metal with massive steel teeth, some of them boiled away from the magical energies used in the explosion. I wasn’t entirely sure how those ponies had managed to blow the door out of place, or how they had lived through the event, but I imagined that it must have been quite the lightshow.

The Stable’s preacher, Moonglow, was standing by the entrance, wishing each member of The Caravan a safe trip and praying to Luna to safeguard the expedition. His dark blue robes were emblazoned with a crescent moon, and flowing softly as he moved. “Lady Luna, bless these travelers, guide them not into the harsh light of misery and despair, but into your cool glow of everlasting love. Mother Luna, save your children in their time of need, paint your night dark with the blood of your enemies, so that we may be concealed from evil. We beg of you, Mistress Luna, fill our heads not with the terrible nightmare’s of your wrath, but with the comforting dreams of your glorious return. May Luna bless us all. Amen.” Father, Nohta, and I all stopped momentarily and prayed with him, then we stepped outside.

I always felt a thrill when I stepped past that door, like I was approaching something better, something more. I suspected it was just the natural reaction of anyone to not want to stay cooped up in a hole in the ground all their life. As we made our way up through the cave, that feeling grew. I looked to Nohta, and couldn't suppress a grin as I noticed her gawking face. Her eyes were wide, taking everything in. After we passed through the cave entrance and Nohta got that first little taste of sky, she was practically bouncing with excitement.

“Sis! Look! Clouds!” She pointed at the sky with a hoof.

I chuckled to myself. “Just wait until we exit the canyon dear, you’re in for a treat.”

The rest of The Caravan was paying no attention to the little shrubs and cacti that were growing along the path to the end of the canyon, but since I had just been given free reign to resume my alchemical studies, I was trying to harvest every little leaf, berry, and root that I could get my hooves on. You’d think that most of the ingredients you’d require for good potions would be hard to harvest, but in fact, most of the stuff doesn’t take more than a few seconds if you know what you’re doing. It’s almost instant, really. I stuffed everything I could into my packs, making a mental note to find a decent container later for all of the alchemy supplies.

We finally found ourselves at the mouth of the canyon, and the reddish brown rocks that had risen above us were giving way to grey clouds as far as the eye could see. The desert stretched out before us, nearly barren of all features save for the occasional cactus or boulder. Our carts and wagons were waiting for us where the ground started to even out.

Nohta was rooted in place, her eyes transfixed on the sky. “It’s… wow. I mean, I knew it was gonna be big, but. Wow.”

I stood next to her. “This is as far as I’ve ever gone outside, Nohta. After this, everything is new for me, as well.”

A gentle breeze washed over us, blowing my mane back and forcing Nohta’s cloak to billow in its wake.

“Is that the wind?” She whispered.

I whispered as well, “Mmhmm, that’s the wind.”

She beamed up at me and simply stated, “I like it.”

“I thought you would.” I gave my little sister a smile. She had a lot to learn, but back then, we both did.

I was glad that I had gotten to share Nohta’s first experience outside The Stable, but now we actually had to get moving. Dust called for her to follow him soon after her we had reached the wagons, and Father asked me to load the medical supplies onto one of the carts. After that, we started walking.

If you’ve never walked through the desert, let me describe it for you. Monotonous. No, wait, that word is far too exuberant and cheerful for something as boring as a hike over a near-endless expanse of dry, cracked earth. Dull. Now that is a perfect word to describe what we did for several extremely long hours. It was a very dull trek.

Luckily there were plenty of ponies to talk to. Some of them were even friendly. The brown buck that was pulling our cart full of medical supplies had a few interesting stories about last year’s expedition.

“Ya, so there I was, right? Just kinda, you know, doing my business behind this bush, when I saw the damn thing just leap up onto the cart and start screaming bloody murder! Scared me shitless… uh, literally.”

“Oh goodness, what did you do?”

“Pulled out my gun and put a round through his chest. But that didn’t kill him. Hell, only seemed to piss it off. I unloaded that damn gun right into the bastard and he was just screaming and walking towards me… hadn’t even cleaned myself off yet.” He shivered at the memory. “Damn thing still gives me nightmares.”

“If it’s too hard to talk about...”

“Aww shucks, girl, it didn’t traumatize me or nothing. Just scared me right good. Banshee ghouls are good at doing that. Of course, once the caravan heard all the commotion, most folks knew what was going on and came running. The fight afterwards was a bit hairy, but 35 or 40 ghouls against the same number of ponies gets a little one-sided when those ponies all have rifles and S.A.T.S.”

“Are attacks like that common on the road?”

“So far as I’ve seen, not on that scale. Each year’s Caravan comes back with a few good stories, but if it got too bad out here, we would just move, right? I trust the Overmare and Dust to get it figured out, they’ve been doing this for years now. If anypony’s got a good grasp of the situation, it’s Dust.”

“Where did Dust come from, anyway? It’s hard to imagine he would have those scars from living in The Stable.”

“Noticed those, did you? Yep, he was born and raised outside. Learned to fend for himself out here. He just kinda wandered around, scavving off old ruins and exploring till one of the earlier Caravans ran into some trouble and he helped ‘em out. I guess they figured it’d be a good idea to have a native to the surface along for any future trips, and offered him a home. He’s stuck around ever since.”

“He must really understand what we need to survive out here, then.”

“Oh ya. Like I said, if anypony knows what they’re doing out here, it’s Dust.”

“That’s good to hear, he’s supposedly teaching my little sister some tricks of the trade.”

“Your little...Oh...that’s right.” Conversation was a little scarce from him after that.

Other ponies provided more insight into what to expect on the road.

“Oh I’m telling you, the bucks in Whinnyappolis are the best!” The white mare was much too enthusiastic about her, ah, hobby, to be ashamed.

“The bucks… in...” Was I really hearing this? And from Cream Puff, of all ponies!

“Oh ya sweetie, soon as we get to a proper town, get yourself a fine little stud and find a place wheres the two of ya can go knock horseshoes for a while. Best way to unwind after spending a week on the road!”

Not all of them had advice I was particularly interested in, of course.

However, there were a few little gems about life on the surface.

“No, no, the rules are simple, it’s finding the cards that’s the hard part. The cards have to be in good shape or you can’t play with ‘em.” The black stallion levitated a small, stiff rectangle of paper in front of us. It displayed some odd symbols that I didn’t recognize, as well as two black number sevens in the corners.

“So how do I get a pack of cards?”

“Buck if I know. I’d sell ya mine, but I don’t even have a full deck anymore. Just got the numbers, none of the face cards. Some jerk swiped ‘em from me last year. Never did find out who.”

I was just about to see if anypony else had anything interesting to say when Dust’s voice rang out from the front of the herd. “Alright everypony, we’re taking a break! Pulling team, form a circle with the wagons!”

The pullers all moved in unison, and everypony else gathered in the middle. Rugs were thrown on the ground so we could all sit without getting too dirty.

Dust stood and addressed us. This time he didn’t have to yell, “Okay folks, we’re making good time, we should be in Mareon by tomorrow night. Then we can get some good info on where to head next and plan out the rest of our trip.”

Father spoke up as well, “For all the new people, listen up. We have to protect our stable’s location. It’s secluded, but it’s not so far out that a raiding party would decide that it’s not worth the effort, and without a door to protect the folks inside it, our home is a ripe target. Secrecy is our best line of defense.”

Father shifted his weight and continued, “Because of that, from here on out, I want all of you to memorize this: We are from a small, tribal village to the west called “Ol’ 76”. It was founded by ponies who were forced out of their stable by flooding, and named after their old stable. That’s why we have PipBucks and stable clothing. We need supplies for our home and are willing to trade goods, services, and knowledge in order to get them. You can use your real names, just don’t go into too much detail when it comes to describing where you’re from.”

Dust started pulling some small, round devices out of a bag in the wagon he was next to. “These are sonic deterrent extensions for your Pipbucks. Put them on, turn them on, and for the love of Luna, keep them on until I tell you it’s safe to take them off. You really don’t want some of the bigger, nastier, dangers of the wastes coming after you when you need to sneak off and take a leak. Everypony got that?” We all voiced or nodded in agreement. “Good, we’re gonna rest here for about an hour, then we’re gonna travel until it starts to get dark. So smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.”

Most of the ponies around me looked as if the very last thing they needed was to be smoking. Many of us were sweating, and a few were out of breath. I did not envy the pulling team. Nohta was engaged in conversation with Dust about picking locks. All I could make out was something about bobby pins and a screwdriver. That seemed a little odd to me, but I wasn’t really interested in learning how to pick locks anyway. That sort of clandestine pursuit wasn’t something that a lady such as myself would ever dream of doing.

Father trotted up to me, levitating one of the little sonic devices before him, “Here Candy, I already gave Nohta her’s. This one used to be mine. I made a few modifications to it, so don’t worry if there are a few bugs with the interface, it actually works a little better than the normal ones.”

“Oh, alright then. Thank you, Father.”

I examined the little sonic deterrent that I had been given. It looked like somepony had ripped one of the tiny speakers out of The Stable intercom system and designed it to fit into a Pipbuck. I plugged it in, and opened up the user interface. It recognized the device immediately, and after a short, if buggy, systems-check, verified that it was operating correctly. I couldn’t tell what it was doing, but apparently it was keeping me safe.

“Oh! Candy! One more thing, before I forget. Look, there’s really no easy way to bring this up dear, but you need to know something about the ponies up here.”

I looked up to see Father’s frown, “Oh? What’s that?”

“Even though it’s been over two-hundred years since the war, some folks out here still blame zebras for the whole conflict. It’s asinine, I know, and completely ridiculous to assume that any one people were wholly responsible for turning the world into what it is now, but it’s just the way some folks feel.”

He paused before continuing, “Racism is alive and well out here, I’m afraid. You’ll need a way to blend in. Your mother used to have some goop that she rubbed on her face, but I can’t remember how she made it. So, until you figure out a way to conceal your stripes, we need to come up with a believable story about why you have markings on your face.”

I arched an eyebrow, “Do you really think that anyone would mistake me for a zebra with a horn and a pink mane?”

“We can never be too careful, dear. Now, I was thinking that you should tell anypony who asks that your stripes are tribal markings. That should fit well enough with the rest of our story.”

“And what should I say when they notice that nopony else has them? Or for that matter, what about Nohta?”

“Nohta should be fine as long as she keeps her hood down and doesn’t attract attention to herself. That cloak is still a little big on her, and it should cover her up well enough that nopony will notice. As for you, just tell them that you’re… uh… training. Yes, that ought to work. You have to mark your face because it’s an initiation ritual or something. Just make something up, dear. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Use that big brain of yours, eh?”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t fight off a little grin at the compliment, “If you say so, Father.”

I went over to the miscellaneous supplies cart and got out a medium-sized satchel, slinging it over my neck and fitting the straps in place so that it would ride snug against my shoulder. Then I levitated out the alchemy supplies I had gathered earlier and placed them in my new satchel. Feeling much better after having organized my supplies efficiently, I decided to spend the rest of my time reading through Mother’s recipe book, and see if I could brew anything yet. Unfortunately, I was still lacking some of the ingredients for a basic healing salve, so I decided to simply try and commit recipes to memory. Maybe I could remember what to pick up, and what to leave behind.

The afternoon’s trek passed by as uneventfully as the morning’s had, and we soon found ourselves under a darkening sky. Dust called out for the pulling team to circle the wagons and carts again, and a small fire was built in the space between. A few tents had already been set up on the inside of the circle, and most everypony was starting to settle in and look for something to eat.

We had set up a tent alongside a wagon and rolled out our beds. Father was walking around checking on the various teams of ponies, making sure they didn’t have any injuries that they might have been too proud to tell us about. Caramel’s bag had been opened, and the remaining crumbs of the brownies that had been inside were either speckling Nohta’s muzzle or scattered near the entrance of our tent. Nohta was, of course, going on and on about how different the surface was.

The sky and the wind especially seemed to fascinate her. “Nopony ever said that the clouds were like a big bowl of Apple-Sugar Bombs! How’d they miss that?”

Honestly, I was at a loss as well.

“Nohta, darling, how can you possibly be comparing the weather to a breakfast cereal?”

“Hey, it’s not like I’ve got a lot to go on here!” Well, she did have a fair point in that regard. “And besides, it does too look like cereal!”

“It’s like, all uneven, but covering the whole thing up, you know? Some parts of the sky have more cloud than others, and those parts move around a lot. I thought it was just gonna be like a big blanket, all smooth and boring This is way cooler!”

I chuckled at my sister’s analogy, hiding my amusement behind Mother’s book. I was finishing off my last chocolate treat while reading about a particularly nasty poison that Mother had used to wipe out a nest of bloodwings, when Dust’s voice came through the front entrance of our tent. “Hey kid, you ready?”

“Huh? Oh! Ya, let’s do this!” Nohta was outside before I even remembered what was going on.

Once I got out of the tent, I could see that the few ponies who were too wound up or just not tired enough to have already passed out were following Dust and Nohta to an area a little ways off from the wagons. Only the two guards were staying at their stations.

I followed the herd, and then remembered my part in all of this. I hurried to catch up to Nohta and Dust. I didn’t like that Nohta was going to get hurt. It was bad enough having to come back to our quarters and see her waiting for me with bruises and cuts. Now I was going to have to watch it happen?

It was starting to get pretty dark outside, and the fire was back by the wagons, so most of us had turned on our Pipbuck lamps. The various green, blue, white, and amber hues illuminated the small patch of desert we walked over, and painted the tiny shrubs and rocks unnatural colors.

Once we had gotten far enough away that the noise wouldn’t wake the others, Dust spoke up, “Your mother was a terrific fighter. One of the best I’ve ever seen. She did her entire race proud. If you wish to be like her, you’re going to have to learn how to move like a zebra, not a pony. Can you do that?”

Nohta paused for a moment, “Do you mean fighting on two legs?”

“Not all of the time. But, yes, that’s the basic gist of it. To truly fight like a zebra, you’ll need to be able to control every movement. You’ll need to understand how to fight with grace and agility, and how to strike in order to inflict the most injury. Occasionally, that means you will need to display levels of nimbleness beyond most ponies, such as cartwheels, somersaults, and maintaining balance on two legs. You’ll need to know how to fight on more or less as the situation calls for it, as well.”

“You can fight on less than two legs?” Nohta’s incredulous tone questioned.

Dust raised a hoof to his chest as he spoke, “Situational, at best, but occasionally you may find yourself in the middle of a fight where it is advantageous to only have one hoof on the ground, usually only briefly. Sometimes the best strategy is to have no hooves on the ground at all. You must learn how to judge each particular engagement, and the best way to respond. That can, unfortunately, only come with experience.”

He shifted his weight, and hoofed the ground. “Think of hoof-to-hoof combat like a game of chess. Only, instead of pieces, you have your body. Instead of a neat and even board, you have whatever setting you’ve gotten yourself into. And instead of having to wait on your opponent to take their turn, sometimes you can get two or three ‘turns’ off before they react. Since you are part zebra, I’d recommend that you use your inherent aptitude for speed and precision strikes to hit first, hit hard, and continue to hit quickly. Don’t let them see you coming, don’t let them predict where your next strike will come from, don’t let up on the attack, and if at all possible, make sure that you choose the ‘board’ that is to your advantage. But you must always be mindful of your position. Bad hoofwork, overextended blows, and not paying attention to surroundings have killed more of my friends than I care to admit.”

“That’s... a lot to take in, all at once.” Nohta admitted with a sheepish grin.

Dust nodded. “That’s why I wanted to start early. You’ve got a lot to learn. For now, we’ll start with the basics. Can you move on two legs? Can you fight on two legs?”

“Ya, that’s how I do it. I mean, I saw a little of what Mom used to do, and I know some of the stances.” She answered.

Dust lowered his body, as if he were about to charge, and said in a calm voice, “Show me.”

The other ponies had finally started to realize what was going on, and started to give Dust and Nohta some room. Nohta took a deep breath, and reared up on her hind legs. She held one of her front hooves low in front of her, and the other stretched out and upwards behind her. For just a moment in the soft glow of light, it was almost as if Mother were with us again.

The two of them stood there for a moment, Dust on four legs, Nohta on two. Neither moving as they sized each other up. Dust was the first to break the silence, “Well? Are you going to hit me?”

Nohta grinned and let out a snort. The kick that followed was fast, I almost couldn’t see it, but Dust simply moved his head to the side, dodging it. He pivoted one of his back hooves, brought his front legs up underneath Nohta and grabbed hold of her outstretched leg. Turning in place, he used her own momentum plus his considerable strength to launch her over his body and right into the ground. Hard.

“Whoa!” Somepony said, “did you catch that?”

“Nohta!” I yelled.

I got a muffled reply and a dismissive wave of a hoof, ”M’alrigh, Fif.”

Dust gave her some room as she got back up. “Good, your speed is admirable, but you need to work on the technique. And try to not be so predictable. Again.”

She pulled herself up off the ground, brushing dirt off of her cloak. She smiled again, and launched herself at Dust. She was providing quite a show, with her cloak swirling around her as she would spin and leap to buck out at her opponent. She almost landed a few hits, too. But his size belied his speed; this was how he had survived the wastes, by being stronger and faster than anypony else. He took Nohta out again in a few seconds by parrying a blow and countering with a strike to her face before she could recover, sending her sprawling in the dirt.

“Very good job, little one. You’re not afraid to try a little improvisation, and that’s good, just watch your position and don’t overextend. Also, don’t be afraid to drop back to all fours. Not all zebra styles made such extensive use of the two-legged stance. Two legs are excellent for speed and agility, but they don’t have quite the power that an old-fashioned double-buck provides.” He circled around and gave her some space.

She got back up, a small trickle of blood running down her muzzle. It was spreading around her lips, giving her a crazed, savage appearance in the midnight gloom.

This was becoming too much to bear, “Hold on, let me heal her first.” I asked.

“No, not yet,” Dust waved me off. “She should learn to fight while she bleeds, It imparts a certain strength upon you. Makes you realize that you’re fighting for your life.”

Nohta flashed a third grin and dove back in, I swear she could be insane sometimes. But I guess I shouldn’t have expected any different from my little sister. She had earned her cutie mark from getting into fights, after all. She was enjoying this, perhaps too much.

Several swift blows to her head later and Nohta had staggered just enough for Dust to spin around and buck her right in the stomach with both back hooves. She flew backwards from the impact. landing on her side and rolling in the dirt. The crowd gasped.

She staggered to her feet before I could reach her. “I’m fine, Sis, really. Mom’s cloak is absorbing most of the force. It’s amazing.”

“What was all that about promising to not get hit?” I furrowed my brow in annoyance.

“I said I’d promise to ‘try to not get hit’, remember?” With that she was back in the fight.

Nohta was adapting to Dust’s patterns quickly. It was taking him longer to bring her down this time. This time, when Dust would inevitably land a strike, he didn’t stop his assault for her to recover. Instead, he chased her down and tried to land a knockout blow before she could get up. But my little sister was nothing if not fast; she baited him into a counter-kick to his ribs while she was on the ground before he could react to dodge. He didn’t let up, or even grunt in pain. Instead, he slammed his hooves down on the ground where Nohta had just been a second before. She darted away and around him. Finding her hooves under her, she kicked out at Dust’s ribs again. This time she hit her mark, but Dust shrugged it off, caught her in his front hooves again, and slammed her down in front of him.

“Okay,” he said, finally breathing hard, “why did you lose?”

Nohta looked up at him from the ground, “Too strong… I couldn’t....” She was panting now, having finally had the wind knocked out of her.

“No,” he replied. “I beat you because I knew the proper time to dodge a hit, the proper time to block one, and the proper time to take one. Sometimes it’s better to absorb a small blow, because you will have better position, than it is to dodge and force yourself into a bad spot, where your opponent can land a lethal strike. Sacrifice a pawn to save a rook.” He paused for a moment, “Once more.”

Nohta got to her hooves, then raised herself to her rear legs again. She lowered her stance and calmed her breathing, then stared Dust down.

He raised a hoof and hooked it towards himself.

Nohta responded with a kick to his chest, he tried to grab her, but she was back out before he could catch hold. She unleashed a flurry of blows from her front legs. Dust was just barely blocking most of them, and dodging what he couldn’t block. She wasn’t hitting him, but she was keeping him busy. She dropped to all fours as she swept her back legs around, knocking his hooves out from under him. He rolled out of the way of her stomp, and bucked out at her legs, knocking her off balance. Then he was in her face, unleashing his own barrage of attacks. She was able to block some of them, and dodge a few, but experience was winning out over youthful enthusiasm. Eventually she was staggering into all of his attacks, not being able to block or dodge any of them. She tried to buck out at him one last time, but he caught her extended limb with one of his front hooves, and sent his other hoof straight into her ribs. She hesitated from the force of the blow, and he raised his front legs up and slammed down on her back.

She fell to the ground and didn’t get back up.

“Nohta! That’s quite enough! I’m healing her!” I rushed over to Nohta’s side and felt out with my magic. She had no broken bones, thank Luna, but there were multiple contusions, lacerations, and sprained ligaments as well as, from what I could sense, a great deal of pain.

“Not bad, little one, “ Dust was already walking back to The Caravan, looking about as exhausted as one might be from a light stroll to the cafeteria. “One day you’ll live up to that cutie mark.”

“Ow. Ow ow ow. Oh.... hey Sis. Guess I got hit, huh?” She glanced back at me over her shoulder.

“Lie still, I’ll take care of you.” I knelt by her, opening a small bottle of disinfectant, and began working on the bruises, cuts, and various other injuries she had sustained.

“Thanks again, Sis.” She at least knew to not move while I was healing her. It wasn’t the first time we had found ourselves in this position, after all.

Father chose that moment to come over to us, “You actually did pretty well, Nohta. I’m impressed.”

She winced as I cleaned, and then mended, a cut above her eye. “You think so? I barely seemed to hit him.”

“You’ve only been in a few little scuffles with bullies up until now. You’ve got nowhere near as much experience fighting as Dust does. Besides, whenever he started sparring with your mother, he didn’t land a single blow for a month.” Father chuckled to himself, apparently amused at his memories. “Anyway, I’m hitting the hay. Don’t stay up too long, alright?” He turned and walked towards the wagons.

The other ponies lost interest and walked back to the wagons as well, leaving us alone.

I lifted my head and cut off my magic. The red glow died with it. “Alright, I’m finished. Your body should be able to heal the rest of the damage while you sleep.”

She looked up at me, “Did I do okay, Sis? You got to watch Mom practice a lot more than I did. I was just trying to do what I remembered her doing.”

I sighed, and gave her a soft smile, “I’m sure that, with a little bit of practice, you’ll be just as good as her, Nohta. Now we need to get to bed.“ I helped her get to her hooves, and then we walked back to our tent.

If my little sister’s mood during her first day out of The Stable could be described as ‘excited’, then the second day would be more along the lines of ‘ebullient exhilaration.’ Or, at least it was by the time we found ourselves in Mareon. I, too, was a bit on edge. These were the first ponies I had ever come into contact with on the surface, and I wanted to make a good first impression.

Mareon sat on the banks of a river whose original name nopony in our group could remember. There was a small concrete bridge with a chain-link fence along its sides allowing passage to the relatively small portion of the town that sat on the western side of the waterway. The paved road that shot west across the bridge and into the mountains had seen better days, but the bridge itself seemed passable. The eastern side of Mareon rested in a natural bottleneck in the local geography, the Macintosh Hills (I remember thinking that they looked an awful lot like mountains) rising up out of the land nearby. The cloudy sunset painted a somewhat depressing backdrop for the few pre-war buildings surrounded by ramshackle tin houses and junked vehicles of every variety, but I was still excited to see surface civilization.

I just wasn’t expecting “civilization” to look like an old junkyard surrounded by sheet-metal walls.

“Over time, this town has expanded enough to stretch all the way from the river, to the hills. If you want to go northeast, you have to cross through Mareon.” Father was elucidating to anypony who would listen to his geography lesson. “And since we’ll be stopping here a second time on the way back home, we should try to be extra polite.”

Nohta was travelling up ahead with Dust, the two of them conversing over the finer points of hoof-to-hoof combat. They were the first to reach the large, steel gates that blocked the entrance. They were also the first to speak to the guards on the settlement’s walls. I couldn’t hear the conversation, but the guards seemed to recognize Dust and allowed us to enter the settlement. The wagons and carts were pulled off to the side, forming a sort of impromptu marketplace outside of the town walls, as a few of our number remained behind to barter with any local residents who came to visit The Caravan. Our own guards were stationed to watch our goods. After all of that had been taken care of, I walked into the first town I had ever come across on the surface.

As I passed through the heavy, metal gates and into the town, my PipBuck vibrated (when did it start doing that?) and beeped. I checked it. “You have discovered Mareon” was emblazoned on my white user interface. I looked up from my map and let my eyes wander over the town. It was, well, dirty. I guess I should have expected as much, we were surrounded by dirt for miles in nearly every direction, after all.

“Howdy folks!” A short, grey mare had jumped out into the broken-asphalt road that led through town, and was approaching our group. “Ah’m plum excited ta see some new faces in our fair lil’ town. Mah name’s Compass Rose, and y’all look like you could use some directions.”

Dust began describing for her our fabricated story, and she ate it up. I secretly hoped that I wouldn’t be so gullible if somepony were lying directly to my face. Before too long, we had the directions to all the merchants in town, the saloon, the mayor’s office (which doubled as the sheriff's office as they were apparently the same pony), and the doctor’s office.

Dust thanked Compass Rose and turned to address the rest of us, “Ok everypony, you know what to do. Split up and see if you can find anything we need. Enjoy yourselves while you’re here, but try to remember why we came. Oh, and uh, dibs on the saloon. Dream Chaser, you still owe me that drink.”

“Heh, I suppose I do.” Father turned to me, “Think you can see if the ponies at the doctor’s office have any useful information? Do a little pro bono work if you have to.”

“Mmmhmm, I’ll get on it right away.” I left Nohta and Father behind as I trotted over to the doctor’s office, the large bag of medical supplies balanced on my back.

The dirt road leading up to my destination was relatively empty of ponies. The office itself turned out to be a pre-war house with a dilapidated picket fence. A mailbox stood askew next to the gate, and a large wooden sign that had pink butterflies painted on it was leaning against the front of the house. I trotted up to the front door and took a calming breath, then knocked on the door a couple of times with my hoof.

I only had a few seconds to worry about differences in culture regarding visiting another’s home or work space, and whether I should have knocked or just walked in, before an elderly unicorn stallion opened the front door and asked me to come inside.

“Well howdy there, young’un. Come on in to ol’ Doc Flannel’s office. Catch a bit of the feather flu? I can get ya fixed up right quick like.” He was squinting at me, and his face was threatening to break out in a genial, but toothless, grin.

“Uh, hello sir, my name is Candy. I am one of the doctors that came with the caravan that recently arrived in town. I made my way here to inquire as to whether or not you might have any work that needs doing.” I smiled up at him.

“Uh, whazzat missy? Hearing ain’t so good in this ear. Best lemme try the other ‘un.” He cocked his head to the side and raised a hoof to his ear.

“I’m looking for ways to make myself useful.” I proclaimed, with an expectant and enthusiastic grin.

“You’re counting the days until you’re youthful? Well now, that don’t make no sense. Looks to me like you’re still pretty young. ‘Course mah eyes ain’t what they used to be either.” He blinked several times and stared at me, still utterly confused as to what I was trying to communicate.

“I’m trying to see if I can help around town!” Maybe talking loud would do the trick?

“You’re trying to get kelp to frown? Well I guess you could try being mean to it, though I don’t know why in Equestria you’d wanna go an’ do that for. Poor kelp never did nothing to nopony s’far as I know.” This was hopeless. The old doctor was either quite senile, or couldn’t hear me at all. I had my doubts about his eyesight as well. Is it even possible for non-pegasi to contract the feather flu?

Still, this was my first task out here in the wastes, and I wasn’t going to report back to everypony that I hadn’t given it my all. I brought out a few medical potions from my pack, as well as a few doctor’s tools that I hardly ever used. (Who needs an ophthalmoscope when you can ‘feel’ the inside of an eye?) I floated the potions and tools in between the two of us, and said very loudly and plainly, “I am a doctor. Do you want some help with your patients?”

“Aww shucks, girl, you’re a doctor? Why didn’t ya just say so?” He turned and began leading the way into the building, motioning for me to follow. Sighing in relief, I did so.

The interior of the building wasn’t as deteriorated as the exterior, but it had some definite signs of wear. The wooden panels of which the walls were comprised were mostly still intact, but the ceiling had a few cracks and signs of dry rot. He rounded a corner and walked through a doorway, into a long room filled with beds. “Well shoot, lemme see now. You any good with broken bones and what not? Got a few little ones back here, went and broke some leg bones after taking a nasty fall off of a roof or some damn thing. I done ran out of splints and braces, and I ain’t never been no good at makin’ casts out of scrap. And, to top it off, I ain't got no healing potions ‘cept them what we been keeping back in case of raider attack.” He directed me to a small group of colts, then turned and pointed at the other patients.

“Got a couple more serious cases back here too, in case you’re up for it. Ol’ fella, done got himself shot all to hell and back. I pulled out the bullets, but he ain’t waking up for some reason.” A yellow stallion with about twenty brand new bullet wounds was sleeping on one of the beds, his breath raspy and his coat drenched in sweat.

Dr. Flannel continued down the row of beds in the building, “Got that young smart-flank from down south a ways, thinks she knows everythin’ cause she was in some group of doctors or scientists or some-such. Well, she didn’t know enough to avoid the damned manticores flying around in the hills. She went and got herself stung, then cut up, and even chewed on a little, from the way she looks. She just barely managed to stumble in here, and I ain’t got nothing to clean out the infection with. Been hoping she was sturdy enough to make it without needing medicine.” A red mare with a light green mane and freckles on her face was groaning slightly in her sleep. I didn’t need my talent to know that she was in a lot of pain.

He continued, “Last case I got is a familiar ‘round these parts. She’s done a lot of good for Mareon, but she’s too fond of the dash, if’n you’re asking my opinion. I think she’s drunk, or maybe just high on Med-X. One way or another, I can’t get her to snap out of it, so until I can think of something better to do, she’s sleeping it off in one o’ mah spare beds.” He pointed to the last bed on the row. Lying there on her back with her front legs spread wide and snoring rather loudly was an indigo mare with a silvery white mane. The left side of her face had some sort of swirling, black markings, and her left ear was pierced with a small bone. There was a small pile of belongings underneath her bed, on top of which rested a dusty, black cowpony hat.

The blue mare whinnied in her sleep and rolled over, disturbing her blankets. That was when I noticed the wings. “She’s a pegasus?” I pointed to her feathery appendages. I had been taught that the pegasi had abandoned the ground in favor of the skies, why was one here?

“Heh, yup. Came from the northeast, If’’n I can recall. Had one saddlebag full of ammo and one saddlebag full of chems. She strolled right up to the sheriff and asked if there were any slavers ‘round town he needed taken care of.” He chuckled to himself. “Things were a little lively after that, but trade perked right up as soon as folks started hearing the roads were safe again.”

If this pony knew about the northeast, then she was the one that I needed to talk to. Maybe I could glean a few details about the towns in that direction if she were awake. Still though, the other patients needed me more. I used the doctor’s sink to wash up, then I turned back to the manticore victim.

Dr. Flannel followed me over, and observed as I examined her. She had a lot of swelling around her neck, and appeared to be having trouble breathing. The wounds had been bandaged, but not very well. The doctor must have been something of a medical amateur. I sat down on my haunches next to her bed, and took a deep breath. Then I ‘felt’ out with my magic.

The fit of sneezing that I received for my trouble ended a couple of minutes later.

“This patient doesn’t have an infection!” I coughed out between sneezes. “She’s having an allergic reaction to the manticore venom!”

I cleaned the venom out of the wounds, re-bandaged them, and gave her an anti-inflammatory from my pack of supplies. If I could make it easier for her to breathe, I reasoned, her body should be able to fend off the rest of the reaction on its own.

The yellow stallion with the bullet wounds had developed an infection. Multiple infections, actually. Inspiration struck as I found a way to heal the buck’s infections with some rudimentary alchemy. Ignoring the questioning look from the doctor, I withdrew Mother’s alchemy case and got cooking.

Grinding a few herbs into a coarse paste, I combined them with a healing potion to create a solution. Once I added a bit of rubbing alcohol to ward off any bacteria, I strained the solution into a beaker, and took out Mother’s fire talisman.

I traced the orange swirl with the edge of my hoof until I had gone from the center of the spiral to the outer edge of the stone’s surface. The talisman activated at full power, and the top of it began to warm up as the orange swirl glowed with magical heat. I placed the beaker atop the gemstone, and left it to boil until the solution had reached the desired consistency.

I floated a few leaves of what Mother’s book labeled as “Horsetail” out of my pack and dipped them in the alchemical solution, allowing the heat to break the herbs down. Once the leaves were made pliable, I laid the new poultice atop the infected bullet wounds and wrapped the affected areas in fresh bandages.

It may not have been a proper alchemical concoction; truthfully it was more like herbal medicine. But I still felt a small swell of pride at retaining my understanding of the basics. And to be honest, it was quite nice to be reminded of Mother whilst helping somepony recover from their condition.

Dr. Flannel was impressed with how quickly I healed the colts. They had all sustained clean breaks, so it was easy enough to fuse the bones back together and tell them to be more careful. They assured me that they would, in fact, stop playing on the roofs of the buildings and keep their games on the ground.

That left the pegasus at the end of the room. I walked over to her, and started to ‘feel’ with my magic.

There wasn’t anything wrong, she was just sleeping.

Amused at the sight of such a heavy sleeper, and grateful that my work was done, I turned to Dr. Flannel and related the news with a tired grin on my face. “That’s it Doctor, I’ve done all I can. This one is just resting, she should wake up shortly.”

The doctor was holding a small horn to his ear. “Well that’s good, wouldn’t want her to go nowhere yet, we still got a few jobs left for somepony with her skills. You done a good thing here, young’un. Any way I can repay you?”

“We’re looking for information regarding where we ought to go in order to find supplies for our village.” Maybe he could tell me now, and spare me the trouble of rousing the pegasus from her slumber.

He sat on his haunches and rubbed his chin, contemplating my request. “Hmm, well now I ain’t ever been down there myself, but I’d go southeast if I were looking for supplies for a whole village. Got a few towns here and there, but eventually you’d find Dise. I hear it’s a big ol’ place. Place like that has to attract all sorts of merchants. Maybe you could get whatever it is you’re looking for there. ‘Course, I suppose you could just as well go north, eventually you’d start coming across a few good spots for trade here and there. New Appleoosa is pretty far out there, but it’s got ol’ Ditzy Doo, fairest trader I ever dealt with. Manehattan has Tenpony Tower, I heard there’s some folk up there might want some trade.”

Finally, some direction! “Thank you very much, Doctor Flannel! You’ve been extraordinarily helpful.”

“Hey now, no biggy. You been a big help here, young’un. You ever find yourself in a bind, you come on back to ol’ Doc Flannel, ya hear? I’ll be sure to help ya out if’n I’m able.” His face finally broke out in that smile that it had been threatening to do since I met him, and he walked me to the door.

I thanked the doctor again and began to make my way back towards the center of town, taking in the sights of wasteland civilization. I was tired from using so much magic in such a short span of time, and I was getting hungry. I decided to head straight for the saloon and see if Father, Dust, and Nohta were still there.

Along the way, I was intercepted by a rather tall, red, earth-pony stallion. One with a yellow mane, green eyes, and peppers for a cutie-mark. One who had been travelling with my little caravan since we had first set hoof out of The Stable. Spicy Salsa.

“Oh, hello Candy. How ya doin’?” His voice was a brilliant tenor.

“I’m doing well, Spicy, I just finished Father’s errand and was on my way to tell him what I had learned.” I adjusted the pack of medical supplies on my back. “I’m just glad that we arrived when we did, or otherwise that poor stallion might have needed an amputation!”

“Already helping folks out, huh? Ya, that sounds like you.” He scratched the back of his head with a hoof and glanced around.

“Well, it’s what I love to do.” I offered a smile, which was quickly returned. “On what task has Dust sent you?”

“Ah, nothing much. He told me, ‘Just go see if you can help out whoever you can.’ I don’t know much about anything besides cooking, but I figured I might be able to run some errands for somepony. Did ya need anything done?” He smiled and stepped closer.

“Oh, well, I actually just finished my job, so, no. But, thank you for offering!” Why did it feel like I was apologizing?

“Oh, ok, ya, alright. Uh, well, I guess I better go look for somepony to help!” He trotted off in the direction where I had just been, then rounded a corner and was quickly out of sight.

I felt like I should have remembered something, but honestly, I’ve never been able to think straight on an empty stomach. I took off for the saloon, eager to try wasteland fare.

As it turned out, Father was waiting on me by the doors to the saloon. “Hey Candy, have any luck?”

I relayed the recommendations I had received from the doctor, then asked where Dust and Nohta were.

“Oh, they took off to spar a while back. Don’t worry,” He added quickly, after noticing my glare of disapproval. “they’ll be fine. No really. I gave them a few potions and told Nohta to learn as much as she could while we were stopped.”

I had to say something, “Father! She’s going to get hurt! Were you even watching last night? Dust didn’t even break a sweat And yo-”

“Were you paying attention last night?” He countered, cutting me off. “Dust is a good enough fighter that he knows how to pull his bucks. He won’t let her get too banged up, just enough that she’ll know that he’s being serious and that she needs to take it seriously as well. I know you love her, Candy, I do too. And I know you don’t want her to get hurt, but she’s an adult now, and this is the only way she is going to be happy.”

“I… well, I just don’t know how she’ll be happy in the… at home, if all she’s good at is fighting.” Was I the only one who could see it this way? “How is she going to convince everypony back home that she’s not just a troublemaker if all she knows is how to bloody a nose or break a bone?”

“Everypony back home can go buck themselves, all I care about are my daughters.” He looked morose, his eyes searching me for something. “The ponies back home won’t always be a problem for Nohta, eventually they’ll figure out that Nohta’s not the worst thing that could happen to somepony. They might even be glad to see her, after all of this is done. Hell, I think she’ll be fine, as long as she doesn’t start to abuse her fighting skills. Try to keep her from using her hooves to push folks around, will you?”

“Yes, Father, of course.” I could try to keep her from bloodying a few noses, but it didn’t mean that I thought she wouldn’t be entitled to doing just that.

“You know, if you think Nohta has it rough, you should have seen what your mother went through before she started sharing her potions with everypony.” He seemed to cheer up at the memory of Mother. “She was so mistrusted that folks eventually decided she’d absolutely have to be integrated into the… er, village so that she couldn’t get out and tell folks where our home was. Most ponies back home didn’t take too kindly to me sharing that little secret with her, either. Our family has always gotten a lot of criticism for that.”

“Don’t worry, Candy. Sooner or later, thing’s will work themselves out. They always do, one way or another.” He brought a hoof up to my cheek and smiled warmly at me. “So, I imagine you’re pretty hungry by now. How about some food?”

We stayed in Mareon for three more days, Nohta and Dust sparring almost continuously. I kept checking on them. At first, I was constantly by their sides, watching over them. Then I realized that Nohta was actually getting better at not getting hit and wasn’t getting beaten into the ground like she had that first night.

I started venturing into the town, and checking up every 30 minutes. Then it was every hour. Then a couple times a day. Sometimes I would see an empty health potion, but not often. It didn’t make me worry any less, but at least she wasn’t getting hurt too badly.

I spent my spare time talking to the shopkeepers in town, sampling the local cuisine (If you could call it that), and reading Mother’s book. Occasionally, I would wander over to Doctor Flannel’s office to check up on the patients. The colts had healed nicely, and were walking by the second day. The yellow earth-pony was well on his way to recovery, even if he didn’t seem cognizant of his surroundings just yet. The manticore victim was rather cowed by her experience, and extremely grateful that I had helped her in her time of need. She practically forced a copy of “Big Book of Arcane Sciences” upon me. I tried to tell her she needn’t bother paying me, as I had already gotten the information I needed from Doctor Flannel, but she insisted.

The pegasus mare was gone before I got there. The doctor told me that she had said something about an old contact and a new lead, then blitzed out the door before he could say anything to her. After a moment’s disappointment, I figured that it was probably for the best that I wouldn’t get to talk to her. I’d probably just bore her by asking a series of inane questions such as ‘What do pegasi talk about?’ Judging by the doctor’s reaction to her race, I had assumed that pegasi probably weren’t all that rare out in the wastes.

Hey, just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you’re right all the time.

After having gathered together all the rumors, gossip, news, and any other tidbit of information we could scrounge up, Dust and Father decided that we should head Northeast, towards the majority of Equestria. Geography had never been my favorite subject in class, but I could certainly remember that most of Equestria lay north of home.

So after bidding the inhabitants of Mareon a fond farewell, we were back on the road. The long, boring, road. We spent two days walking, and talking. Two nights were spent watching Dust and Nohta spar, or at least, sitting next to their ‘ring’ and reading more of Mother’s book until one of them called for medical attention. The crowd of ponies that gathered to watch had gotten bigger since the first night. Some of them seemed to enjoy the matches almost as much as Nohta. But eventually the call of bedrolls would always win out, and the tired ponies would drag themselves to bed.

The monotony of our dusty, flat environs had given way to rocky outcroppings and small valleys. The sparse vegetation hardly seemed like enough to support any sort of animal life beyond tiny insects, but the howls of coyotes and other, more dangerous, animals could be heard every night as we laid down to sleep. A nocturnal lullaby that hinted at the dangers of the desert all around us.

I had settled into the routine that I could see forming. Walk, rest, walk, study, heal, sleep, repeat. But it didn’t actually last all that long. The third day out from Mareon is when everything changed. Goddess, I can still remember it so clearly.

That day was colder than usual. The air was still. We had set out at the normal time, but everypony was still groggy when the first thing went wrong. One of the wagons broke a wheel.

No. Really. This entire debacle started with a busted wagon wheel. Most folks probably wouldn’t think that was such a big deal, but it ruined our entire day’s schedule. You see, this particular wagon was the wagon holding all of the water that we weren’t carrying in our packs. Leaving it wasn’t an option, as we needed the water to keep us alive out in the desert. So we were forced to attempt to make repairs to a wagon wheel using magic, as we had no resources with which to mend the break. And of course, all of the unicorns that had any skill in making repairs to anything had remained at The Stable, in order to keep it in habitable condition.

Hmm? Why of course I thought about pulling a wheel off of another wagon! What do you take me for? I proffered my proposition to Dust directly! But he just waved me off, citing a lack of tools or some other such rubbish. I believed his reasons to be quite ludicrous, but I couldn’t really start an argument with the pony in charge of the whole expedition, now could I?

So there we were, trying to fix a busted wagon wheel in the middle of the desert, which gave everypony not working on the wagon plenty of time to talk. Most of The Caravan had gathered off to the side, collectively worrying about the wheel.

Nohta was with Dust, like usual. She and Dust had become quite close over the last few days, his tutelage into aspects of her life that she had been previously shunned for had quickly gained her trust. The firsthand accounts of Mother’s fighting skills had sealed the deal, and Nohta was looking up to him more and more every day. He, on the other hoof, seemed to immensely enjoy having someone to pass his skills onto. He would have made a fine teacher in The Stable had his skillset not been quite so… brutal.

I was off by myself, reading from Mother’s book as per usual, when Father trotted up to me, “Candy, we’ll be ready to move out in ten minutes, but the wheel might need a smaller load. We’re going to move some of the water from the wagon to the other carts. Get all of your things packed and ready to go.” After a moment’s pause, he added. “Also, grab that bag of medical supplies you got from the clinic. I wanted to check it for something.”

I already carried most of my belongings in my pack, but I figured I could go ahead and grab anything else I had. I was levitating my little alchemy set into my packs when Spicy Salsa asked if he could have a word with me. In private.

Once I had stowed all of my belongings away in my saddlebags and the pockets of my lab coat, I walked around the wagon to where Spicy was waiting on me. I gave him a puzzled smile, asking what he wanted to talk about.

“Well, I, uh… I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?” I cocked my head to the side, taking note of his tense posture and labored breathing.

“Ya, I wanted to, uh… “

“Spicy, are you okay?”

His eyes widened in confusion, “Huh?”

“Well, it’s just that you’re sweating rather profusely for how chilly it is right now. Did you think that you might be coming down with something? If you’re sick, then it wouldn’t be wise for you to overexert yourself by pulling one of the wagons. I can probably squeeze in a checkup before the situation with the wheel is resolved, if you’re feeling ill.”

“No! Er, no thank you, I mean. I’m not sick.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to be embarrassed to come to me for help, you know. I am a doctor, after all.”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. I’m just, uh… Wait. What was the deal with the wheel, anyway?”

I waved a hoof in the air dismissively, “Oh, somehow the ancient thing has cracked or bent. I asked Dust if there were any way I could help, but he said that the situation was under control.”

His brow furrowed, “I’m surprised that we don’t just take a wheel off of one of the less-important wagons.”

“Ha! That’s what I said!”

“Haha, leave it to you to figure it out before the rest of us.” What began as nervous laughter turned into a genuine chuckle that the two of us shared. Luna forgive me, but I’m a sucker for a compliment.

The laughter died away as I explained, “Well, my idea must not have been as grand as I thought! Dust said that it wouldn’t work, for whatever reason.”

“Oh. That’s too bad. I wouldn’t ever be able to come up with how to fix the wagon myself. I can’t even fix the light in my kitchen back home.” His self-deprecating statement may have begged for it, but I couldn’t help but want to repay his compliment.

“Didn’t you do just that?”

“Huh?”

“Figure out how to fix the wagon? I’m sure that substituting another wheel would work, if only they’d give it a chance. You thought of the same thing. I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit, Spicy.”

He smiled, and seemed to finally relax. “That’s sweet of you to say, but… well you know how it was back when we were in class together. You were always blowing everypony away when it came to grades. I wasn’t ever that smart. It can take me a while to figure things out..” He sighed, “And some things… take me a lot longer than others.”

“Candy, I’ve been thinking... Everypony is saying that this trip is really dangerous. It hasn’t seemed that way so far, but just in case something happens, I wanted to tell you something. Back when we were foals, and the door came down on me; you saved my life. Even though I had been nothing but awful to you. I never properly thanked you either, or apologized for how I had been acting. I don’t know why it took me this long to get around to it, but I wanted you to know that I really did appreciate it, and that I am really, really, sorry about everything before that.”

That’s what this was about? “Oh, well, it’s alright I suppose. I got my glyph-mark out of the whole ordeal. Besides, we were foals. I can’t hold something like that against you.”

“Well, there’s more.” He admitted, taking a deep breath before continuing, “See, I think the others were just giving you a hard time because you were, uh, you know. Different, I guess? But, I, uh. Damn, this is hard to say.”

I gave him a quizzical look, not really sure what he was getting at. Why would he drag up these old memories? Surely he had to know I didn’t harbor any resentment for him or his foalhood friends.

He looked squarely at me, with a pleading look in his eyes, and opened his mouth to speak, “Just in case we don’t make it, I wanted you to know; I’ve always had sort of a cru-”

BANG!

Spicy Salsa’s head exploded from the bullet that tore through his skull. Little chunks of him flew in every direction, including at me. I had bits of his skull in my mane, and one of his eye’s had landed right between my front hooves. His blood was splattered all over the wagon, and all over my face. His body fell against the side of the wagon and buckled at the knees, smearing a wide bloodstain against the tarp that went over our supplies.

My mouth hung open. I could barely register what had just happened. Being a doctor in a stable, I would occasionally see an older member of our number succumb to cancer, bad health, or just old age. Very rarely I would have to declare a younger member of The Stable dead after a heart attack, or a bad accident due to faulty pipes. This was the first time I had witnessed bloody, violent, death. This was the first time I had seen a gun used on a pony purposefully. This was the beginning of my education in what to expect from the wastes.

And I was about to learn the hard way.

“CIRCLE THE WAGONS! EVERYPONY GET TO COVER!” Dust was already barking out orders.

More gunfire from unknown and unseen assailants peppered the wagon all around me, shocking me from my stupefied state. I had to get down! I had to get around the wagon! The attackers had just killed Spicy (Luna help us), and I was right in the path of fire! I scrambled around the side of the wagon, keeping my head down as splinters of wood flew in every direction.

“ARM YOURSELVES!” Dust was passing out guns and ammunition. It was then that I remembered the little magical laser pistol that Father had given me. I was a terrible shot, but what else could I do? Lie there and wait to die?

I drew the gun from its holster around my leg and started to inch around the side of the wagon when a heavy hoof drug me back behind the wooden barrier. I turned and saw Dust, holding onto my shoulder.

His gruff voice was disturbingly calm, “Medical personnel are too valuable to throw to the grinder. Stay back, and look after the wounded.”

“O-Okay. Where is Nohta?” I needed to find her first, to make sure she was alright.

She slid into cover beside Dust and I, “I’m right here, Sis! You ok?” Her eyes were wide underneath her hood.

Dust raised a rifle and made ready to return fire. “You two stick together. Nohta, guard your sister while she works, keep her safe, and remember what I told you! GO! NOW!”

“Got it! Come on, Sis, Let’s go!” Nohta scrambled towards the next bit of barricade we had set up, an overturned cart that had held most of our food. I followed as fast as I could.

The gunfire was loud, but still I heard screams all around me as I tried to keep my head down. Father dragged a mare back to our cart, a great, bloody hole torn through her shoulder. Blood had stained her ivory coat and mane scarlet, and pooled around her when he sat her up against the cart.

“Hold on, Cream Puff!” I tried to tell the mare. She looked up at me, eyes beginning to close. I frantically began to work as fast as I could. “Just stay with me!” I took out a healing potion and poured it down her throat, while simultaneously levitating the bullet out of the wound. She lost consciousness, but kept her life.

Father had disappeared. I couldn’t tell where Dust was. Ponies all around me were falling, great spurts of blood accompanying the cracks of gunfire. I drug another pony behind the cart and began to work.

“Severed artery. Goddess be with us… Nohta, raise that leg and press down on the wound as hard as you can!” I had to yell over the din of battle. Nohta obliged but, Luna bless her, she had no idea what she was doing.

The buck’s eyes began to drift shut as I held his head with a hoof and spoke directly to him, “Seven Card! Hey! Stay with me! You need to stay awake!” I floated out a healing potion and raised the small container to his lips, but more of it dribbled out of his mouth than was actually swallowed.

“No… no, no, no. Hang on Seven!” The paltry amount of healing offered by the potion wasn’t working fast enough. I slipped into my talent. Tears welled in my eyes, obscuring my vision as I jammed a hoof against the upper portion of his leg and pinned his brachial artery against his humerus. It was a desperate attempt to stop the flow. It was all I had left to give.

I felt the artery slipping out of place as I hurriedly tried to fuse the ends of it back together with my talent, but… I could feel him fading. He had lost too much blood.

Goddess, I… I wasn’t strong enough. I was failing another patient.

The world dulled in color. Sound became distant.

No! There was still time! If I could administer a healing potion directly to the site of the wound…

The world faded to black as half of me experienced a total cessation of sensation. The other half felt a pull. It was as if my mind had become a rope that had been wound far too taut between two points. I had just enough time to feel Seven Card’s last pained moments in this world.

And then the rope snapped.

“Gah!” I reeled back from the stabbing pain between my ears and tried to blink the stars out of my eyes as the world rushed back into focus all around me. The sounds of gunfire, explosions, and screams pierced through the hazy veil of my mind, and I remembered where I was.

“Sis?” Nohta was still holding Seven’s leg.

My eyes met with her’s as my lips quivered. I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Fresh tears rolled down my face as I closed my eyes and gently shook my head.

Nohta laid Seven’s leg down, “Wow, Sis, that’s… He’s gone?”

I clenched my eyelids shut harder, “It was just… just like-”

She shook me, “No! Sis, this is nothing like that! Okay? It’s not!” Looking around us, she added, “We still have others that we need to help. We have to keep going!”

Nohta was right. Work now, mourn later. I brushed the tears out of my eyes and chanced a look over the cart, trying to discover who or what was attacking us. I didn’t notice anything at first, but then I saw them. Wings, claws, beaks, and black armor.

The stallion that had been pulling our medical cart ducked for cover next to us. “Fucking Griffins, Luna save us!”

“Griffins?” Nohta asked in shock, “What did we do to them?”

“Fuck if I know, kid, but we’re in for it now! Looks like a merc squad! KEEP YOUR GODDESS-DAMNED HEAD DOWN, GIRL!” He forced me back behind cover just before the wood panel that I had been peeking over exploded in a shower of splinters.

“Right, sorry! Next patient, next patient!” I dragged over another pony with blood foaming at her nostrils and mouth. I began to clear her lungs of the obstructing blood with my magic and jammed a Med-X into her flank. There was a deafening *BOOM*, and the mare’s head was reduced to a sanguine pulp.

A griffin landed beside me, kicking up a dust cloud with her wings. She had holstered her shotgun in exchange for a set of knives, and was bearing down on me like death incarnate. Nohta slammed into her side a second later, sending them both rolling. The griffin was trying to get back up when Nohta reared and stomped both front hooves into her left wing. Even over the gunfire, I could hear a loud series of cracks as Nohta broke my assailant’s wing and the griffin screamed in pain. The mercenary lashed out with her knives, and blood painted the air crimson.

I stared in horror as the blade rent a jagged, bloody channel across my sister’s face. Drawing my weapon, I tried to aim, but Nohta was too close to the griffin, and I wasn’t a good enough shot to be certain that I’d hit our attacker, and not my sister. I lowered my weapon and prayed to Luna to protect her.

Nohta cried out, falling back as the griffin got up. My sister grit her teeth against the pain, and ducked under the griffin’s next attack, lashing out at the mercenary's exposed belly. The griffin grunted and stabbed downward at Nohta, but missed her by mere inches. Nohta sidestepped the griffin’s slashes and thrusts, blood flowing freely from the knife-wound, and landed a savage blow to one of the griffin’s ribs. Again, I heard cracking bones, as the griffin swung her blades in response. Nohta had learned, however, and the knives missed her completely as she jumped back.

Apparently, our attacker had anticipated as much, and with a single, fluid motion, dropped her knives and drew her shotgun. Nohta closed the distance between the two of them quickly, sliding underneath the first shot, and got a hoof underneath the barrel, bucking it upwards, where the second round also fired harmlessly. She bucked out at the griffin’s armored chest, using Mother’s horseshoes in a quick succession of hammering kicks. The blows stunned the griffin long enough for Nohta to turn and land a double-buck to her throat. The mercenary was lifted off of the ground from the force of the blow, and fell backwards in a heap, blood pouring out of her beak. She didn’t get back up.

I ran to my sister as fast as I could, the bag of medical supplies still balanced on my back. Her wound needed immediate attention! She was gushing blood from the gash, her coat staining red around her mouth as the blood flowed down her face. I fished a healing potion out of the bag and practically threw the contents down her throat as I slipped into my talent’s trance-like state and fused the skin and tissue back together. The pain was excruciating.

She pushed me away and gestured to the rest of The Caravan, “Ponies still need our help, Sis! We need to get moving!”

I heard an unfamiliar whooshing noise, and the cart that we had previously been using for cover exploded, its contents blown in every direction as splinters of wood peppered us. The brown buck that had saved me moments ago was thrown backwards by the blast. His limp body rolled to a stop, and his blood seeped into the dry earth.

I looked back at The Caravan, and realized that the dead or dying now outnumbered the healthy. We were losing.

I spotted Father trying to help another pony, and ran over to him, Nohta close behind. “How can I help?”

Father glanced at me, then gasped as he locked eyes with my sister, ”Nohta! Your face!”

Nohta dismissed him with a wave of her hoof, “I’ll be fine, Dad. Candy healed me up already. Besides, the griffin that did this got a lot worse than a scar.”

His mouth hung open in shock, “What?”

Nohta’s voice was cold. “She got dead.”

Father brought his hoof to his face, smearing blood across his brow. “Oh Luna… Girls, you need to listen to me. I know this won’t be easy for you, but I need the two of you do something for me.”

I nodded, “Of course, Father. Anything.”

Taking a deep breath, he made his request, “Run. Run away from this fight as fast as you can.”

“What? Are you crazy?” How could we leave? How could he even ask us to go?

“That’s an order, from your father and the second-in-command! Run, keep each other safe, and wait in Mareon for three days. If we’re not back by then... Tell the Stable. They’ll need to know.” He looked directly at me. “I love you,” He looked to Nohta, “both of you, so much. Run. GO!”

I was stunned, how could I leave Father to die? I couldn’t, I wouldn’t, I… Nohta was pulling on my lab-coat, trying to get me moving. Nohta...

“Goodbye, Father. I love you.” I had to stay strong, I had to do this, even if every fiber of my being screamed at me that it was wrong, cowardly, selfish. I had to do this, for her. I could do this, for Nohta, to keep her safe.

I turned, and we ran. We ran as hard as we could. Fleeing into the desert, away from the fight behind us. Away from the deaths of ponies that had depended on us. Away from the rising column of smoke that I hadn’t even noticed. We ran. And we survived.

We survived. And everything we knew about the world changed.

Footnote:

Candy Stripes:

S 3
P 6
E 4
C 5
I 9
A 6
L 7

Good Natured: You’re good natured at heart, more prone to solving problems with your mind than through violence. +5 to Barter, Speech, Science, Medicine, and Repair, but -5 to Firearms, Magic Energy, Explosives, Unarmed, Melee, and Battle Saddles.

Skilled: You’re skilled, but not experienced. You gain +5 to all skills, but suffer -10% experience gain.

Footnote: The Party Levels Up!
Welcome to Level 2!
New Perk!

Wasteland Surgeon: Your medical expertise and special talents allow you to heal crippled limbs without the use of Doctor’s Bags. You also gain a +2% Critical Chance when attacking non-mutated creatures or equines. Make others whole, Doctor.

Skills Note: Barter 25
Skills Note: Medicine 50
Skills Note: Repair 25
Skills Note: Science 50
Skills Note: Speech 25
Skills Note: Survival 25

Footnote: Nohta has joined The Party!

Nohta:

S 7
P 6
E 6
C 2
I 5
A 7
L 7

Kamikaze: Nohta’s reckless nature allows her to act faster in combat. She gains +10 Action Points, but suffers -2 Damage Threshold.

Hot Blooded: When Nohta gets hurt, she doesn’t just accept it! She gets MAD! When her health drops below 50% she gains +15% damage, but suffers -2 to Perception and Agility.

Tagged Skills: Unarmed, Lockpick, Sneak

Nohta gains a Perk:

Intense Training (Endurance): Nohta’s sparring sessions with Dust have left her in excellent physical condition. She permanently gains +1 Endurance for a total of 7.

Author's Notes:

Massive thanks to my editor, Wr3nch. I couldn’t have gotten started on this without his help. Without him, I’d be swimming in commas and surrounded by stripes.

Thanks for all the covering fire, buddy!

Another big thank you to KKat, for giving all of us this amazing sandbox for our imaginations. And of course, thanks to all the folks who have worked on MLP or Fallout.s