Mareon. Your father and I had very different opinions of the settlement, girls. He saw the ramshackle town as a backwater pitstop, only good for a brief respite from the dull trek through the desert as he gathered gossip from the tavern. But I… I saw it as a desert bloom rising out of the harsh soil. By some divine miracle the town managed to escape the radiation that blankets the world, and for that reason alone it is more than a little special. Mareon is an oasis, for sure, but no place is truly safe within the wasteland. Should you ever decide to visit the town on your own, take the proper precautions. Mareon may appear to be a fragile desert bloom, but its spikes and thorns lie in wait for the foolhardy and the reckless.

Within Mareon’s walls you can catch a glimpse of the old world stubbornly refusing to die. The town owes its resilience to the saloon, as working stills are a rarity within the wastes. Say what you will about the evils of alcohol, but wasters flock to it like moths to flame. And where ponies gather, some small semblance of civilization typically follows. The prominent families that hold power within the town are all tied to the business of booze, and that business has paved the way for many others to take up residence within the relative safety of the town’s walls.

Traders, doctors, adventurers, teachers, tradesmares of all skills, scavengers, mercenaries, guards… even politicians; you can find each of them within the town’s dilapidated pre-war structures and newly-built shacks and huts. All of the ponies living there eke out an existence within the desert while dreaming of one day making the trip northeast along the Macintosh Hills to New Appleoosa, or perhaps due north along the river to Manehattan. Luckily none of them have yet made the latter trip, as they surely would have stumbled upon my secluded safe-house amongst the rubble of Fancy Lick and subsequently destroyed my stock. Ponies can be… less than practical when it comes to certain alchemical ingredients.

During my own travels to the town I met another zebra. A young alchemist living in a hut at the edge of town and making a living by selling a potion he called “Battle Brew.” He was exiled to the very furthest reaches within the town’s barricades, but tolerated for his potions and occasional herbal remedy. It should come as no surprise that the two of us were fast friends, even if the stallion wasn’t entirely… sane. Should you ever find yourselves in the company of a “Half-Moon,” give him my warm regards. Friends are often found in the oddest of places and he was no exception.

But no matter what, you must remember one thing about Mareon, girls: they are the Stable’s closest neighbor. It would be unwise to alert them to our presence, and it would be the height of foolishness to anger those who dwell within those sheetmetal and barbed wire walls. Keep the Stable’s existence secret. And… keep your heritage to yourself.

Mareon has a vendetta against those of us with stripes, daughters. At first I was appalled and offended by the blatant racism, but after I learned of the town’s history with zebras… I find myself completely unable to fault them. Some acts are unforgivable, even in times of desperation.

You’ll find my recipe for a stripe-concealing ointment on the following pages. Be sure to use it if you are at all able. It is unfortunate that we must hide our true selves, but the wasteland hardly ever allows us such luxuries. Be careful, daughters.

I was ripped from the blissful, soft caress of Luna’s embrace only to be thrust into a consciousness I had no desire to attain. I woke to the pounding rhythm of a relentless war-drum between my ears and piercing, incapacitating light stabbing my retinas. My throat would have screamed for water were it not so parched that it was unable to even moan in pain. Waves of intense nausea wracked my entire being, threatening to void the contents of my stomach at the slightest provocation. My hooves pushed and prodded at scratchy fabric and uncomfortable bedding, only to go limp as waves of fresh agony crashed through my body. Every muscle ached. Every joint was stiff. Every single thing about my existence was pure torture.

I’ve never been a fan of mornings, something that Mother and I had shared, but this particular morning was far beyond the realm of simply being unpleasant. I was in agony.

I had been poisoned.

Perhaps I should back up to give you the proper context. Forgive me, I do not have much practice in telling a story like this one. Let’s see… where did we leave off? Oh, right. The Steel Rangers, Bright Eyes, the Cheese family, the bridge…

Goddess, the bridge! It was a truly mesmerizing sight to behold. Such power! And I had caused it! Me! Ha! Who would have seen that coming? The potential for drastic change due to my actions is astounding; more intoxicating than the sweetest of wines! Any one of us is capable of so much in this world, if only we are given the proper tools with which to work, no? But forgive me, I was informing you of what happened next.

The truth is… I… I think I blacked out. I’m honestly not entirely sure of what transpired that night. All I can recall are hazy patches of blurry shapes and a deep sense of failure. Bright Eyes had somehow blasted me with enough radiation to make me glow in my own right, and after my Pipbuck had registered over 900 rads and climbing… I thought that I was dead.

I should probably stress that point. I really, truly, believed that I was going to die. Are you capable of comprehending what that is like? To have every concern, burden, hope, and wish violently stripped away from your pathetic attempts to hold onto them? To understand that before death itself, we are all equally powerless?

Before that night, I would have assumed that a near death experience would have made me overly cautious; afraid to be hurt and even more fearful that my decisions would lead to further harm visited upon myself. The real truth is far more frightening. I didn’t feel afraid, I felt liberated. Concern for my own well-being evaporated like a muddy puddle in the baking desert heat. I knew that I was going to die; if not immediately, then soon. My only regrets were that I would be unable to aid those who needed my aid, and that I was too weak to right the wrongs to which my sister and I had been subjected.

My stablemates, if any of them still lived, were helpless against the fate that had befallen them. Only my sister and I were capable of finding them, and her attitude towards that subject left me convinced that the burden of my stable’s well-being would fall squarely on my shoulders. And regarding Nohta… After that night I knew what truly mattered, and I was more than ready to do anything in my power to keep her safe.

You need to know this in order to better understand my motivations for what I have done. Any lingering desire to see myself safely through my life’s trials has, ever since that night, been an extension of one tiny revelation: I can only help others if I remain alive at the end of each day.

To needlessly throw my life away when I am capable of helping so many lives would only put those lives in danger when I am no longer there to render what aid I can. Worse still, it would rob this world of any further good I could bring about. My sister and I’s abandoning Holly and the Steel Rangers had surely saved our lives, and though we ourselves nearly succumbed to the crippling attacks of Bright Eyes, the bomb I had used on the bridge had guaranteed that the Cheese family would live on. Who can say for sure what Bright Eyes would have done had I not split the desert in twain?

I have heard that sacrifice is a virtue, but I can only believe that if what is gained is greater than what is lost. I am not here to sacrifice myself. I am not here to waste this opportunity that lies before us. And I am not here to barter with something so important as my own life. I need this, and you need me. It’s as simple as that.

When I fell next to Nohta’s unconscious body I thought that I would be reunited with Mother to find her brewing sweet smelling potions in the everafter. I believed that I’d see Father right then instead of waiting until the next time I dreamt of his melancholic smiling face. I knew that I was going to meet the Goddess herself, and that I was going to enjoy an eternity in Lady Luna’s moonlit paradise as she praised my unwavering faith. So please, just for a moment, contemplate my immeasurable surprise and confusion when I found myself waking up in an itchy bed as my everything groaned in inescapable agony.

My eyes shot open, darting to and fro in a haphazard and chaotic scramble to take in every sight within the room. I beheld the fuzzy image of a spinning ceiling fan and, realizing that I was in a pre-war structure and far away from any terrifying ghouls, immediately wanted nothing more than to shut my lids tight and go back to sleep. I gasped for breath like a drowning mare, as if I had only just come up from the abyss. My ears pounded relentlessly with the rhythm of my elevated heartbeat, exacerbating the crippling headache and debilitating nausea that gripped me like a vice. The only thing I could smell was my own sickly body in dire need of a good bath. I tried to move, but felt too weak to push away the sheets, much less accomplish the daunting task of rising from bed. I let my eyes close for a moment longer, and desperately tried to remember what was going on.

Wait! I couldn’t be falling asleep! Not now! I had to get up! I had to find my sister! She was in danger! She was-

Something moved against my side, digging hooves into my foreleg and making the cutest little snoring noise. I opened my eyes to find Nohta fast asleep, sitting on the floor with her head by my Pipbuck. She was safe. I breathed a heavy and ragged sigh of relief; praising what must have been The Dark Mother’s intervention with the only action my enfeebled body could muster. Thank The Goddess… Thank Luna… Nohta was safe.

Safe and worrying herself sick about me, it appeared. I tried to lift my Pipbuck to my face, but only managed to slightly rustle the sheets as my wounded shoulder shrieked in protest. Okay then, I mused, I wasn’t really all that interested in the time anyway… I closed my eyes once more and, feeling my sister’s warm breath against my hoof, allowed myself to drift back to Lady Luna’s embrace.

I would have rather stayed awake than experience what came next.

The clarity of my dream was startling; vivid and bold compared to the hazy reality from which I had just escaped. This was no mere dream. This was a memory. A memory that still haunts me to this day.

Father walked before me, opening the door to the Stable’s clinic with a single tap of his light-blue hoof against the small button beside the door. A gentle whooshing noise accompanied the lifting barrier as we both stepped inside the nearly empty clinic; my freshly laundered and recently designated lab-coat’s sleeve swinging above my right hoof. My dream-self checked the time on her Pipbuck, blissfully ignorant of what was to come next.

The clinic’s lighting was harsh, sterile and unrelenting in its luminosity. Fitting lighting for delicate medical procedures where every action calls for extreme precision, but… no one should ever have to see a loved one’s final, agonized moments in such clarity.

Mother’s pale and weakened form lay upon the bed furthest from the door. Father and I had both decided to place her away from the majority of traffic in the clinic. We had been trying to give her some privacy; time away from the more bitter inhabitants of the Stable that might come to antagonize her now that she was incapable of rearranging their teeth in response. But in doing so, I felt that we had inadvertently sequestered her away like a diseased outsider.

My gaze danced nervously around the room, landing on the intravenous tubes that lead from her fetlocks to wind their way to the plastic drip-bags suspended at the side of her bed. Various beeping and blinking medical devices monitored her heartbeat, blood pressure, and radiation level. A barely-touched meal still sat on the bedside table; the food having long since gone cold beside an open-faced brown book and pen being held open by Mother’s heavy malachite amulet. My dream-self was unaware of what that book was, but I knew it to be Mother’s book of alchemical recipes and life lessons. Nohta was asleep beside the bed, sitting with her head resting near one of Mother’s hooves as Mother gently stroked her mane.

Father and I walked to the foot of Mother’s bed together. When she noticed us, Mother’s emerald eyes widened in a weak smile that only managed to wrack my heart with pain and guilt. My dream-self’s lips were already quivering; the lump in our throat becoming more unbearable with each passing second. The near silence of the clinic was only broken by the gentle beeps and dull hum of medical equipment, providing a placid atmosphere within the too-bright space.

“Nadira…” Father’s voice was tired and agonized. “...The Overmare won’t allow me to leave. She’s not going to let me search for RadAway or witchweed.”

Mother’s bittersweet and exotic voice came out hoarse and weary, “I feel… it is too late for that now anyway, my love.”

My dream-self walked to the side of the bed opposite my sister while Father checked to make sure nopony was within earshot. As I sat on my haunches and leaned in to nuzzle Mother’s cheek, Father’s voice hardened. “I’m going anyway.”

Mother murmured softly as she tried to placate Father’s rising ire. “Shh… Dream, she-”

Father was shaking his head, causing his mess of a curly-brown mane to dance and sway past his horn. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet Mother’s eyes as the fury he had loosed in the hallway only moments ago resurfaced. We were only lucky that he didn’t swear in Fancy again. “She thinks that she can keep me from leaving… ME!” Father’s golden eyes finally rose to meet Mother’s, “She’s forgotten who-”

Mother’s voice was desperate as she pleaded with Father. “Dream Chaser… please. The children will need you here.” She placed a heavy emphasis on that word. “Who will care for Candy and Nohta?” Nohta’s head stirred at the sound of her name, but she resumed her quiet snores a moment later.

Mother continued in a soft voice, moving a few errant strands of mane away from Nohta’s closed eyes. “My time is coming, love. No one can stop that now.”

Father, Luna bless him, wouldn’t take no for an answer. His eyes were hard as steel, unrelenting in his determination. But even steel will buckle under enough pressure. He walked to the side of the bed to hold Mother’s face tenderly between his hooves, and the tears that were welling in his eyes threatened to spill onto Mother’s face as he held her close. “I can stop it. I know I can! Please, Nadira, you don’t-”

Mother shut her eyes and shook her head back and forth slowly, silencing Father in the gentlest way possible. Her striped cheeks rubbed against the dampening fur on Father’s face while she whispered softly. “Shh… Dream, you’ll wake Nohta.” My sister stirred in her sleep once more, opening a bleary eye and pushing herself from the bed. Father pulled away from the embrace and wiped his eyes as Mother smiled down at Nohta and whispered, “Too late.”

“Dad? Candy? When did you-” Nohta let out a massive yawn before continuing in her groggy voice, “...when’d you get here?”

Mother raised a feeble hoof to Nohta’s cheek as she looked into my sister’s eyes and spoke to Father. “Dream Chaser, would you take Nohta back to our quarters? She needs her sleep, and…” Mother’s gaze turned to my tear-filled eyes. “...I need to speak to Candy.” Her eyes were filled with pained resignation as she added one simple word. “Alone.”

Father laid a hoof across Mother’s heart and leaned in to brush his muzzle against Mother’s cheek once more, whispering into her ear so quietly that I almost couldn’t hear. “More than the moon itself…”

Mother swallowed once to still her quivering lip, lifting a hoof to hold Father’s to her chest as she stared into his eyes and replied, “...And all the stars in the sky.”

Father kissed her brow, lingering there as a barely discernible shudder rippled through his chest. After pulling away he nodded in agreement, and wrapped a hoof around my sister to lead her away from the bed. Nohta didn’t put up any resistance. Our mother’s word was law to her, even then.

Just as they were ambling past the adjacent and empty bed, Mother’s hoarse voice called out to them both. I still can’t help but think that she knew what was coming. “Dream Chaser, Nohta… I love you both. With all my heart.”

Nohta’s voice was still thick with sleep, “Love you too, Mom.”

“And I you, Nadira.” Father led my sister out of the clinic, leaving Mother and I alone.

I finally had the chance to tell her. I had to! Had to let her know! “Mother, I…” The words hung in my throat, caught amidst the aching lump and the tide of regret and shame. With every passing second self-recrimination chiseled ever deeper at my heart, leaving me a blubbering mess at the side of her bed. The welling pools of grief that had been building behind the levees of my eyelids finally burst forth, spilling down my cheeks in a deluge of searing anguish. My lips quivered, unable to voice the one thing I needed to say. The shame of that one final tiny failure piled itself upon the mountain of my guilt, and under the crushing weight of my own weakness I buckled and collapsed into the hooves that I had wronged.

I buried my tear-slicked face in her chest, detesting the sickly smell of her bedridden body as my chest heaved. My tears dampened the fur of Mother’s chest while her hoof slowly rose to embrace me gently. Mother was strong! The bravest, strongest warrior the world had ever known! She shouldn’t have been reduced to this! This was… This was…

I couldn’t open my eyes. Instead I held them tight as I choked out my apology in a pathetic attempt to dislodge the guilt suffocating my soul. “This is my fa-fault! Mother, I’m so s-sorry!” Admission at last, but there was no catharsis to greet me. Only more pain.

Her voice was calm; melancholy mixed with soothing. “Shh, Candy.” The hoof atop my head gently brushed against my forehead around my horn, pulling strands of my mane away from my face before they could mat with the tears. “Shh, dear. You had nothing to do with this.” Her hooves caressed my sobbing form, one stroking my mane as the other lifted my chin to face her. I opened my eyes to find her features set in the stern but loving face of a warning only parents are capable of. “You can not blame yourself for this, Candy. It will ruin you.”

“But you told me n-not to practice al… alchemy inside the Stable! I didn’t listen!”

“Shh…” Her hoof brushed against my cheek, wiping away the wetness clinging to my stripes.

I clenched my eyelids tight as I shook my head, wringing fresh tears down my muzzle. “I stayed inside b-because I wanted to show N-Nohta! I wasn’t paying attention! And then the t-talisman… The fire…”

“Candy-”

I lifted my eyes to hers, expecting condemnation but only finding pity. “All the witchweed was burned! Father-”

“Told me everything, daughter.” Her voice was still only a calming whisper, hoarse but firm with her resolve.

I couldn’t stand the look in those eyes. I buried my face in her chest once more to escape her piteous gaze. Why wasn’t she angry? I could have accepted my failure so much more easily if she had just chastised me! “You… you h-hate me…”

Her hooves gripped me in her enfeebled embrace. She was so weak, so frail! She wasn’t supposed to be fragile like glass! She was Mother; the iron cornerstone of our family! An unassailable bulwark of strength impervious to all the casual hatred and danger thrown our family’s way. And I had compromised that pillar. In foolishness I had toppled the invincible tower that not even all the wastes could bring down. Goddess, how I despised what I had done to her!

She held my face in her hooves, forcing me to look into her miserable eyes as she shook her head and whispered. “Sweetheart, no. Never.”

“How… how could you not? I… I…” I couldn’t hold her gaze. I couldn’t bear to see what I had wrought in arrogant indiscretion. Goddess, if only I had been more careful! Had been more diligent! Had been smarter; more thorough, better! “I should have listened to you! I should have waited for you to come back! If I had paid closer attention-”

“Candy…” A gentle but forceful hoof found purchase underneath my chin once more, lifting my eyes to meet my mother’s face. “This was an accident, daughter. The last in a long chain. You can no more blame yourself for this than I can blame myself for leaving my alchemy supplies behind.”

Before I could splutter out a response, she added, “It was important to me that you be able to practice, dear. I wanted you to make potions while I was with the Caravan, remember? But accidents happen, daughter. We can not prevent that which we can not predict. Do not blame yourself for this, Candy.” Her muzzle brushed against my forehead as her lips kissed my brow, “I don’t.”

I clenched her weakened body tightly, sobbing into her shoulder while her hooves embraced me. The only sounds in the whole of the Clinic were my muffled sobs and the rhythmic beeping of the medical devices. A light shudder ran through her body, accompanied by a small irregularity detected on the electrocardiogram. I pried myself away from Mother as my magic wiped the tears out of my eyes, and began checking the various medical devices at the side of her bed.

Her breathing was becoming more labored as I checked the drip-chamber on an IV bag. She held a hoof to her chest and grimaced in pain as she spoke. “Candy, have I ever told you the great riddle of my people?”

With Father and Pearl outside of the Clinic, only I was left to check on the equipment at Mother’s side. I adjusted the tiny clamp on the plastic tubing with my magic, allowing more Hydra and healing potion to diffuse into the saline solution within the drip chamber. I swallowed the lump in my throat and glanced back at her, “No. I… I don’t think so.”

“My father posed this question to me when I was your age.” She coughed into her hoof while I rubbed her back and fluffed her pillow.

I conjured my spell, bathing the room in a blood-red glow as I made the magical connection to Mother’s body. A crushing deluge of agony and nausea swept over me as Mother cast her gaze to the side; peering into the distance with a forlorn look of melancholy as she realized what I was doing. I could barely function like this! Every movement made me want to vomit, but even worse was the pain screeching at me to lay down. Goddess, she needed Med-X! My magic plucked a syringe out of one of the nearby cabinets, only for Mother to gently shove the medicine out of my scarlet bubble.

It landed on the sheets of her bed above her legs as she groaned in pain, “Ugh… No… No, dear. Pain can muddle thoughts, but… can bring clarity as well. I need my wits about me. Need to make sure you understand.”

I didn’t release my spell. No matter what she said, I knew that I was to blame for this. I deserved to share her pain. I deserved a lot more than that…

I blinked back the newly forming wave of tears, unsure if they were caused by the physical torment or the stark realization of exactly what Mother was going through. “Mother, please. You need your medicine.”

She clutched her chest and stared me down, “This… more important.” I could see my reflection in her emerald eyes. “Daughter, are zebras white with black stripes, or black with white stripes?”

“I… what?” I cocked my head to the side, completely lost in her query. Mother’s words always were good at playing me like a fiddle.

Despite the pain I still felt through my magical bond a small smirk pulled a corner of her mouth upwards. “Come, dear. You love puzzles. You can figure this one out on your own.”

My eyes traveled over her features; searching her stripes for an answer to her riddle. I saw a face that, even in sickness, was still more beautiful than I could ever hope to be. There were scars deforming her coat, but never so badly as to detract from her appearance. Yes, the intimidating muscles underneath her hide were rendered nearly useless by her current state, but they still granted her the graceful and lithe form of a dancer.

I reached a hoof towards her, indicating the obvious with a gesture. “Well… technically… I’d say that you’re more of a light-grey on dark-grey. Or perhaps dark-grey on light.”

She snorted in weak laughter, “Don’t worry, daughter. I did not fully understand this question for decades.”

My eyes wandered the room as my thoughts raced. She wanted me to know something. She wanted me to figure it out on my own. She’d be disappointed if I couldn’t! I had to think!

She cleared her throat, “Perhaps… a different route? One more relevant to one such as yourself.” My gaze returned to her eyes as she smiled feebly at me, “Candy, are you a zebra with a unicorn’s horn? Or are you a pony with pink stripes?”

Confusion overtook me. Mother and Father had already explained this when I was just a filly. I was a zony; Half zebra and half pony. Why was she asking me this? “Mother… I’m… I’m a little of both?”

She closed her eyes in contemplation as her smirk continued to grow. “Decades, love.” Her smirk died as a heavy sigh gushed past her lips, “And I won’t be there to congratulate you when you understand.”

My lip quivered as my hoof reached out to her. I felt the phantom pressure of the touch on my own shoulder, deathly quiet compared to the ever-present agony coursing through her body. “Mother… I know the Overmare forbids it, but Father might be able to-”

“No dear, he needs to stay here for you and Nohta. You still need to finish your training,” Her lips pressed together as she attempted to suppress her grin, “...and little Nohta’s ability to stir up trouble reminds me of myself at her age. She’ll need someone to watch over her.” Her eyes found a measure of strength I had not believed she still possessed, boring into my own like viridian steel. “I need you to do something for me, Candy. Promise me.”

I stilled my quivering lip and swallowed the lump in my throat, bolstering myself for her request as I nodded slowly. “Anything.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. “You need to be the one to watch over your father and sister, now. Nohta is… unruly to anyone but myself. And your father… Neither of them will be the same after my passing, Candy.” I opened my mouth to object, but she silenced me with a gentle hoof against my lips. “No, dear. Let us both speak plainly now. No more lies to the ones we love. I am going to die.”

I shook my head slowly, unbelieving of what I was hearing. The lump in my throat ached as I pleaded with her, “No… please…” It was as if a great beast had loomed over us in the clinic all along, lurking unseen like shadowed mist as it awaited its prey’s imbecilic advance into its lair. But only at Mother’s words did the monster finally reveal itself, bludgeoning and slashing my ability to ignore it. No matter how desperately I had tried to convince myself otherwise, Mother was right. The tests and retests and re-re-tests had all confirmed it; we were only waiting for her to leave us. The venomous sting of inescapable fact worked its vile magic, weakening my resolve and robbing me of my ability to fight back. Like a weakened animal facing its last moments I finally had to accept the truth, and as Mother’s words truly struck home I allowed the beast’s jaws to clench around my neck.

The tears were rolling over my face again, moistening the stripes upon my cheeks. Mother wiped them away before she continued in her hoarse and weary voice, “And when I do, your sister will need someone to stay after her about her fighting and about her education. She skipped class again to come see me today.” Her eyes were stern at those words. I knew that keeping Nohta in school would be a hoof-full, but if that was Mother’s wish then I would make it so. I nodded slowly, sitting at the side of the bed and holding my hoof over hers.

“And you’ll have to be careful with your father, dear. I… I believe that he may come to resent the Overmare for her refusal to let him search for medicine. Don’t let him harbor that hatred within his heart.” I nodded once more as her hoof caressed my own.

A fresh wave of torture tore through my body. I doubled over, gasping for breath as my tear filled eyes darted past the pink strands of my mane to behold Mother’s grimacing face. Something was wrong.

“And one… last thing… daughter.” Her eyes fluttered feebly, incapable of staying open. The color started to fade from my world, bathing the clinic in a monochrome, grey filter. The machines at the side of the bed beeped and chirped furiously, but the sound was already becoming fuzzy and distant. I jolted up, placing my front hooves beside Mother on the bed as my own eyes stared at her in uncomprehending horror.

Every word that left her mouth was a monumental struggle. Another wave of torment gripped my chest as I felt her voice upon my own lips. “Candy…”

My wide eyes fell to the emergency button on her cot. My hoof slammed into the button as my scream ripped out of my throat, “FATHER!”

Goddess, I wasn’t trained for this yet! The alarm blared overhead, but nopony was coming. Why wasn’t anypony else in the Clinic!? Without sufficient knowledge of proper medical procedure I panicked and fell back on the one tool I had at my disposal; my spell. I prayed to Luna for assistance, and gave myself entirely over to instinct as I grit my teeth and focused.

Magic poured from my body to hers, deepening the magical bond between us. I was amplifying every feeble healing spell I had been taught with the one spell I knew by heart, but it just wasn’t enough! Sweat beaded on my brow as I grunted in exertion, and a layer of overglow obliterated the shadows in the room to bring a touch of color to our greying world. For one agonizing moment the pain began to ebb and wane, but I couldn’t keep it up. Goddess, she needed help! In desperation I sought to mash the emergency call button with my magic again, failing due to the intense focus being given to Mother’s ailing heart. I pulled my concentration away for a single second, just one second to manually press the button with my hooves, and immediately realized my mistake. An explosion of pain, a terrible stabbing sensation, crashed through our chests. My magic faltered for a single moment, and in that hellish span of time her heart fell still.

I screamed and redoubled my efforts, “No! MOTHER!” A third layer of magic blanketed my horn even as a sense of terrible distance descended between us. The bond was beginning to unravel and sputter, offering pockets of terrifying clarity as her pain fled my body. I was quickly draining myself of magical power, using my telekinesis to compress her heart and force air into her lungs. My horn ached with the energy being poured through it like a sieve; I was using everything I had to keep her alive, and nothing was working!

I felt her lips move. I felt the whisper, rather than heard the words. The last thing she ever said to me was only discernible by the phantom sensation of her lips in place of my own. “...love you.”

The ephemeral cord that was our magical bond was fraying and weakening with every passing moment. My hooves beat upon her chest with all my pitiful might, desperately trying to maintain compressions as my magic fizzled and withered. I had used myself up. I had nothing left to give.

That sensation of distance strengthened even as other senses faded to obscurity. Pain surpassing anything I had ever experienced before gripped my body like a vice. What was going on!? “MOTHER! HOLD ON!” Half of my world disappeared from view. Half of my body went numb. Half of my everything collapsed into a bottomless void of non-being.

Crimson sparks leapt from my faltering horn even as the magical connection was severed and my mind slammed back into a single skull like a battering ram. I reeled in pain, my body finally unable to endure anymore torment. The uniquely alien and oppressively impotent sensation of magical burnout left my horn feeling fuzzy, dull, and lifeless.

Mother was laying on the bed before me while an emergency alarm blared above us. The sound of hooves clanging against metal floor plates echoed throughout the Clinic. Somepony was coming, but they were too late.

My hoof reached out to her face, “Mo-Mother?” I tried to fire my spell, but my horn only fizzled and sparked, sending a fresh wave of dull agony through my skull. My hoof brushed against her cheeks. There was no response.

My eyes went wide as my jaw slackened. “N-no…” My head shook as my other hoof reached out to embrace her face. “No.” Cold realization began to sink in even as hot and stinging tears streamed from my eyes. “No… No. Luna, NO!”

I fell to my haunches beside her bed, my hooves clinging to Mother’s fetlock while I pressed her limp hoof against my cheek. “No…” My tears dampened the sheets of her bed and moistened the fur above her hooves. “Please… Luna…”

Soft but firm hooves gripped my shoulders and pried me away from the bed. In my grief-induced daze, I was foolish enough to allow them to lead me away.

I hadn’t even had the chance to tell her that I loved her.

Reality reasserted itself when my eyes opened; revealing a blurry, brown, spinning circle. I shut my eyes again, forcing the tears out while I continued to sniffle and gasp for breath. The cool sensation of dampened fur on my cheeks and the soggy side of my pillow alerted me to the fact that I had been crying in my sleep for quite some time. My breath was still catching in my throat when I re-opened my eyes to view the lazily spinning ceiling fan in Doctor Flannel’s clinic.

That was when it struck me; I was alive. Despite all that had transpired, I was still alive. The visceral realization brought an unnatural intensity to every sensation. Every pained limb was a gift. Every cool wave of air washing over my damp cheeks was a treasure. Every single breath, no matter how taxing to draw or how foul the scent it brought to my nose, was a profound confirmation of the simple fact that my heart still beat within my breast. That this world hadn’t killed me yet. That I still had a chance to set things right.

I took a deep breath, willing my body to calm itself. I rolled my hoof over, expecting to find Nohta at my side. When my hoof only found the edge of my bed, I found the strength to raise my head and scan the room for my missing sister. There was nopony within sight. I was alone.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and whispered to myself in the empty room, my words shaky and irregular due to pain and nausea. “Just… just a dream, Candy. Just a… dream.” Why was Luna tormenting me with so many painful visions? I had never dreamed this frequently in the Stable, and when I did it certainly wasn’t about the worst moments of my life! I shook my head lightly and prayed, unsure of what I had done to invoke The Goddess’ ire. I could only hope that Luna’s nocturnal wrath might be brief.

My stained and tattered lab-coat was draped over a nightstand beside my bed; my saddlebags and pistol resting at the base of the table. A bottle of water was weighing down a folded note beside the off-white fabric. I furrowed my brow in pained concentration, only to remember that my magic had left me. My aching and clumsy hoof accidentally knocked the bottle off the table to land atop my saddlebags before I clutched the note in my grasp. I was left panting from the exertion as I brought the letter to my eyes.

Nohta’s sloppy script was scrawled hastily on the yellowed paper, bobbing and weaving as my gushing breath blew the edges of the paper back and forth. ‘This water’s clean, Sis. Checked it myself. Doc ran out of RadAway, so I’m going to see if Margarita can get us some vodka. I’m fine, by the way. I feel great. Don’t worry about me. I’ll explain what’s happened when I get back.’

My brow furrowed with my confused and worried grimace as my muddled thoughts jumbled together in my skull. Why would Nohta be after vodka, of all things? What was she doing? Why wasn’t she here with me?

My eyes glanced down at the bottom of the note. ‘P.S. We owe a lot of ponies a lot of caps. Be back soon.’

I struggled to rein in my thoughts, but with the haze dominating my mind I was unable to discern what my sister was doing. My eyes fell on the bottle of water laying on my packs, and the note was left to fall lazily to the side of the bed as thirst took control of my actions. I strained to reach for the bottle and bring it back to my lips before gulping the liquid as quickly as I could. It only took a moment for me to realize I had acted in foolish haste.

My nauseous belly cried out in protest, sending slightly diluted stomach acid rushing upwards through my throat. I convulsed once as the bottle of water fell from my grasp to roll off the bed and spill over the floor, then hurriedly craned my neck over the side of the bed as I threw up. The first wave of sickness splattered against the wooden floor, as did the second before I noticed the bucket placed at my bedside. My hoof feebly attempted to pull the metal pail into position while I fought the urge to vomit, but I only succeeded in knocking the vessel on its side before it rolled under my bed. As the last of my stomach acid burned its way up my throat to splash across the floor I couldn’t help but sob at my helplessness while choking and gagging on my own sickness.

Goddess… I was so weak! Incapable of even the most simple of tasks! I lay there for an uncomfortably long time, unable to find the strength to push myself back on top of the mattress. I wept as my head dangled over the side of the bed, not even being able to wipe the puke from my otherwise dried and cracked lips. It was only as the dry heaving died down and the tears spilled over my muzzle to mingle with the mess on the floor that I finally realized what my sister had told me in her note.

I was alone. For the first time since the Caravan, I was alone. I grunted in exertion, mustering up every ounce of my strength to slowly drag my head back atop my pillow while that information sank in. I swallowed back the bile in my throat as I wiped my lips clean with a hoof and prepared myself for what I could already feel coming. At least I didn’t have to worry about Nohta seeing what was about to happen.

With my recent dream of Mother so fresh in my mind, it didn’t take long for the drying tears to start anew. The memory of my failure at Mother’s deathbed still stung, but it was only the springboard that allowed my mind to dive into the ever-deepening waters of grief within my life. The walls that I had erected to keep Nohta from bearing witness to my vulnerable heart began to wither and crumble. It was only then that I realized how feeble and pointless they had been in the first place.

Powder, the Stable, Grump, my revelation in the moonlight… How many times had I cried in front of her? The Pyro, The Cheese family, the Steel Rangers, all the times I had snapped in rage or frustration… How many times had I lost control? Goddess… I couldn’t keep this up. I needed to let it go before I did something truly horrendous.

I had never been able to hide my feelings from her. I was foolish to even try. A feeble hoof rose and smacked at the bed in a futile gesture, “G-Good job Candy! Another f-failure! You should start k-keeping a list!”

My sniffling grew to whimpering. The pain in my chest and throat rose to match the stinging in my eyes and the nausea in my belly. I rolled onto my side and drew my legs close to my body, curling my tail around myself while I buried my face in my damp pillow. My thoughts focused on my home. The memories of strolling the halls, of sharing meals with my close circle of friends, of visiting the Library or praying in the Temple.

My stable. Not just the metal walls and failing electrical generators, but the ponies that lived there as well. The Overmare, Caramel, Pearl Grey, Moonglow, Spin Cycle, Rhubarb, Pipe Sleeves… They had all been… all been… My hooves grasped and kneaded at the pillow underneath my head as my body shook with my growing sobs. I still had no idea whether most of those ponies were alive or dead, but to even contemplate the latter only served to wrack my heart with an extra wave of grief.

How many ponies in Mareon had died from wounds suffered in the raider attack simply because I wasn’t at my best? How many had suffered because I had been exhausted and weak? How many mistakes had I made due to a sluggish mind brought on by hunger and dehydration? Even one life lost due to my ineptitude was too much to bear!

And then there was the Caravan! Dust, Seven Card, Spicy Salsa, Cream Puff… My lips formed the word before my troubled mind could stop them, “Father.” That was it. The last blow that my fortress could withstand. Any pitiful resistance that I had held onto for all this time shattered at the memory of Father.

Goddess, why!? Was it not enough that my life was left in shambles? That any semblance of order or direction had been ripped from my hooves? That every good and decent thing in this world had been burned to ash? Why had the only pony I had ever loved been taken from me as well? The only thing I had left to me was Nohta, and she was off looking for drinks!

I clutched the pillow to my heaving chest as my wailing reached a crescendo, only slightly muffled by the thin foam padding. Goddess, this wasn’t fair! I had done nothing to deserve this! Why was this world so cruel and unforgiving? Was that… Was that the only way to survive out here? Had everyone else simply realized and accepted this fact before I had? Was that what I would have to become? The price to pay in order to keep my sister and I safe?

Prior obligations, recent revelations, and pained admissions swam through my mind. What if the only way to ensure Nohta’s safety was to abandon my good nature? I… I couldn’t do that! Could I? No! My voice cracked as I prayed into my pillow, “I can’t… Luna, please… don’t make me…” I buried my face further into the pillow, bringing an aching hoof up to cover the one weeping eye still exposed to the air as my thoughts raced. What was I willing to do to keep Nohta safe?

Ugh… this wasn’t something I had ever dreamt of questioning! I ground my face into the pillow, the closest approximation of shaking my head I could accomplish. “Get a g-grip on yourself, C-Candy… You’re only thinking this way be-because…” My eyes clenched shut, wringing a fresh wave of tears out to soak into my pillow and muzzle.

My weakened body shuddered with every gasping breath. “Fa-Father…” I had quickly drained the shallow pool of energy that was left to me in my emotional agony, leaving only a dampened pillow and tangled sheets in the wake of my grief. Fatigue brought on by radiation poisoning and my cries of anguish took its toll, and I slowly drifted back to sleep. Lady Luna had finally found it within her mercy to grant me a dreamless rest.

I awoke to a most peculiar scene. Nohta was sitting at the side of my bed with her back to me, my alchemy set and Mother’s book sprawled out before her on the wooden floor. Doc Flannel and Margarita were beside her, their expressions puzzled but hopeful.

Nohta poked a hoof at Mother’s book, “Okay… Witchweed, check. Vodka,” Her gaze lifted to Margarita, who hoofed over a glass bottle of clear liquid. “...check. Cinnamon… yeah, we got that. Uh, what the fuck is ‘Butterfly Weed?”

Margarita scribbled down a hasty note and hoofed it over to Nohta, who scanned over the message and replied in an exasperated tone. “No, not really. Candy’s the one that knows how to do this. But I’ve seen her make a few potions before. How hard can following the directions be?”

I rolled my head over to see them better, burying half of my face in a notably fresher and much more fluffy pillow. Peering out of one half-lidded eye, I croaked, “N-Nohta?”

Her body stiffened, scattering dried herbs in every myriad direction. “CANDY!” She turned to lunge at me, wrapping her hooves around my neck and shoulders to pull me into her embrace.

My stomach lurched at the sudden motion, and my shoulder ached dully in protest, but even if I had been well I wouldn’t have possessed the strength or the will to push her away. “Sis-”

“I have vodka!” Her hooves held me at leg’s length as she nearly shouted in my face, shaking my still-irradiated body in her jubilation.

“Noh… ta…” My eyes bulged in their sockets as something began to climb through my throat.

“You can make your potion! Hurry up and brew it!” My stomach proved no match for her incessant and frenzied shaking. I raised a hoof in a feeble attempt to push Nohta away while her hooded face took on a bewildered look of confusion. “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to-”

I threw up again, the remaining liquid contents of my stomach spilling all over the front of Mother’s cloak.

Nohta continued to hold me for a moment, blinking in stunned silence. Then she looked down at her chest and let my weakened form fall back to the pillow. “EWWW! Candy!”

Margarita’s lime-green hoof grasped my sister’s shoulder as Margarita shook in silent giggles and nodded toward the direction of the bathroom. My sister plodded after her as a wet squelching noise accompanied her every step.

A wheezy guffaw accompanied the bright magic of the doctor as he dampened a towel and began to clean up the mess, still limping about on the hastily fastened crutch Margarita had constructed for him. “Ah heh heh heh! Girl shoulda known better!”

I stared on in discomfort at the sight of somepony cleaning up after a mess I had caused. My labored breathing hindered my speech to the point of a dull whisper. “Doctor…”

His magic wiped the cloth along the floor before wringing the contents into a nearby bucket. “That little spitfire you run around with was just about worried sick about you.” He chuckled to himself for a moment before continuing. “I was starting to wonder myself if’n you were gonna pull out of that fever.”

“She… radiation…” I propped myself up on a leg, hoping to ease out of bed.

“Whoa now! Easy, missy!” His good hoof pushed gently into my chest near my shoulder, providing a stark reminder of my recently acquired wound as he gently forced me to lay back down. “You best be gettin’ some rest now, ya hear? You was glowing pretty damned bright when them fellers brought ya in. Not to mention all the blood. Can’t be too hasty to get out o’ bed just ‘cause yer not sleeping no more.” I ceased my attempts to rise from bed, only to be surprised as his hoof pressed more firmly upon my body as he hobbled closer.

He leaned in close to me, his squinting stare hard as steel behind his thick glasses. “I hope ya don’t mind none, but I had to clean ya up a bit to keep conditions sterile in here.” His voice dropped low in a deadly whisper, “And no matter how hard I tried, them stripes on yer face just wouldn’t wash off.”

My ears drooped limply against the pillow and my cheeks. My eyes widened in disbelief and terror. Oh Luna… Not now… please not-

Doc Flannel glanced toward the front of his clinic before whispering conspiratorially, “Now look. I’m plum grateful for what ya done, but after ya get yer potion all brewed up, you best be gettin’ on outta here. I reckon that somepony out there might take offense to someone like you hanging ‘round.” His hoof released me, and he continued to clean up the mess by my bed. “You done a good deed last time you was in Mareon, girl. But if the town finds out yer a stripe, there’s gonna be hell to pay. I can’t be havin’ that kinda trouble come down on me and mine, y’hear?”

So the Doctor wasn’t going to sell us out. Instead, he was simply urging us to leave as quickly as possible. In my desperate state I was in no position to argue, but my mind was still reeling from the sickness and fatigue. “You… you know…”

“Weren’t none too hard ta figure it out, girl. ‘Specially since I had to tend to yer sister, too.” His cloth squeezed over the bucket again as he continued. “That Cheese feller was ready to hoof over a good deal o’ caps to get me to treat the both of ya. Said the two of you were together. M’ah eyes may not be what they used to be, but that don’t mean I can’t put two ‘n two together.”

A cold shiver down my spine added to my list of aches and pains. What… What were we going to do now? Ever since we had discovered our stable’s fate, I had hoped to count Mareon as a safe haven. Doctor Flannel was the only pony I knew well enough within the town to even consider staying with, but now he was practically shoving us out the door! If we couldn’t stay within the town, where would we go? We had lost our best chance of escaping this blasted desert when we abandoned the Steel Rangers!

Goddess, I couldn’t help but wonder if we had made a terrible error in judgement. Perhaps we should have stayed with the Rangers until they reached Manehattan? Then we could have divested ourselves from the group and… No. Even as the thought flitted through my mind I realized that the Rangers would not have saved us from Bright Eyes. I still didn’t fully comprehend exactly what that monstrous mare was, but I had seen with my own eyes just how unstoppable she had been.

I pushed the thoughts to the side, nodding to the doctor in acceptance of the inevitable. “We’ll… we’ll leave as soon as… we are… able.”

The doctor must have seen something in my pitiful expression, because his wrinkled face contorted in guilt behind his thick glasses. Doc Flannel sighed, shaking his head. “Look missy, I don’t mean to be running you off like that. Maybe…” His eyes turned towards the bathroom, “Does Margarita know?”

I wasn’t entirely sure if I should divulge the knowledge to the doctor, worrying that I might wind up getting my sister’s new friend into trouble for associating with us. Goddess… it wasn’t our fault that Mother had been a zebra! And we didn’t deserve to be treated any differently because of our heritage! After a moment’s hesitation I realized that the doctor was staring at me, waiting for my answer. I silently prayed to Luna, hoping that her teachings wouldn’t lead to more trouble.

I nodded, “Yes, she knows.”

“Yep. I figured as much.” The doctor turned from me to pour the contents of the bucket down his sink, cleaning his cloth in purified water. “She’s had a thing fer yer kind ever since that stranger came to town twenty-some odd years ago.”

Despite the fuzzy fog that permeated my thoughts, I couldn’t help but wonder at those words. Did he mean… Surely I had misheard. “Stranger?”

“Yep, ol’ girl came inta town with a… I think he was a unicorn buck, can’t rightly say. He didn’t garner much attention, but you don’t forget a gal like that. Not whenever she cleans out the bounty board in one week all by herself.” The doctor grinned at his memories while my mind raced away with idolatrous possibility. “She had this look about her. You could tell she was different.” He started, chuckling to himself as he limped back to my bed and brought the cleaned rag to my face. He wiped the spittle and filth from my chin as he continued to speak. “My eyesight weren’t so bad back then. I could see it in those green eyes o’ hers. Girl was in love.” The cloth dabbed at my slackening chin as he whispered. “I think I’m starting to piece it together now.”

Mother… Her past actions had set in motion events that were even now saving our lives. What had she done? I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, recoiling in displeasure at the acidic taste of bile and vomit still clinging to my tongue while I pondered exactly how much impact any one of us might have upon this world. All those little details that often go under the radar, all those endless minutia that wind up making the difference between life and death. A kind word here, a small gesture there… how much of a difference could the tiniest of actions have years down the road?

The doctor continued in his ministration, deftly wiping away the tear that fell down my cheek. “Now Margarita might not admit it, but she was damn-near enraptured with this gal. And she was just at that age where younguns start to get idealistic and think they can take on the world, just a hoof-full o’ years after she got her cutie mark. It was a unique matter o’ timing, but if I had to guess…” The doctor gazed at me knowingly, “I’d venture to say that Margarita would be happy to help her hero’s daughters out of a jam.”

Even as he was urging us out the door, he had offered the only possible solution to our problem. I struggled to draw breath, lamenting with each exhaustive inhalation the weight of the invisible cerberus upon my chest. “Thank you… doctor.”

“Aww shucks, missy. I don’t reckon either of us got into this business fer the thanks.” He winked at me, “Never hurts to hear it, though.” He hobbled away from the bed, “I got me some errands to run. Should give ya some time to catch up with that little firecracker.” He chuckled to himself, “Take care now, y’hear?” The doctor exited the room, and a moment later I heard the sound of the clinic’s door shutting in place.

From the bathroom, I could hear the muffled sounds of running water and my sister’s frustrated groans. “Ugh! It’s everywhere! Luna damn it! It got in the pockets!”

I rolled to the side, staring at the wall next to my bed in an attempt to hide my discomfort. I concentrated on mother’s book and the scattered herbs, hoping to reorganize the mess that Nohta had made earlier, only to be reminded that my magic was still out of commission. I didn’t want to be a burden, but in my state I wasn’t much good for anything. Goddess, I couldn’t even manage to rise from the mattress, let alone brew the potion that would rid my body of radiation.

Listening to my sister’s frustrated ministrations and curt vulgarities from the other room was proving to be a rather dull way to pass the time, and only served to further cement the feelings of helplessness and guilt within my mind. I needed a distraction. My shoulder ached in protest as I lifted my Pipbuck to my eyes and clumsily poked at the buttons to navigate the interface. Finding the audio logs from Lexicon’s terminal in the library, I set the first of them to play and allowed my leg to fall back to the bed.

A small mechanical click and a dull thump preceded the conversation that soon flowed out of my Pipbuck. The same academic pony I had heard in the recording with the zebras in the archive was now speaking in a relaxed and congenial tone. “Alright, I’ve set the device to record. Are you sure that you want to do this?”

A gentle sipping noise played through the speaker, followed by the sound of a mug being set upon a table. A pleasant baritone spoke in a wonderfully exotic and painfully familiar accent. “Yes, friend. Of course.”

The academic pony was excited, ready to begin the conversation in earnest. “Okay then. Let’s get started! What is it about this book that troubles you so much?”

“Well…” The zebra’s tone was suddenly ominous. He took a moment to sip from his mug again before finishing his thought. “I have heard… things, Lexicon. Unpleasant things. Terrifying things.”

Lexicon’s voice was eager and frightened. “Yes?”

“Whispers, friend. Terrible whispers about shadowy places. Terrible whispers emanating from seemingly random locations. I hear them wherever ponies can be found, but they are always uttered by the same voice.”

Lexicon responded in an intrigued yet cautious tone. “Interesting.” The gentle tinkle of his magic accompanied the scratching of a quill.

“Indeed. The whispers tell me that we won’t survive…” There was just the barest hint of mirth in the zebra’s voice at those words.

“Wait…” The frenzied scratches of the quill came to an abrupt halt. “Mizani… “

“Yes friend, that’s right… I’ve been hearing ‘Whispers in the Darkness.”

There was a moment of strained silence before an exasperated sigh from the academic pony played backdrop to the hearty chuckles of the zebra. “Mizani… you… “

The zebra was laughing merrily as he choked out his next words, “Your radios haunt me with your ghastly Equestrian notions of ‘music.’ They assault my refined aural palate with terribly blunt noises and screeching vocals. You ponies have lost all sense of subtlety when it comes to the art of music. Were it not for this pointless conflict, I would petition your Princess to cease and desist your horrifying sonic attacks until our zebra songsmiths have taught you ponies a thing or two about proper-”

“Alright, Mizani, I get it… you don’t care for Equestrian music. Apparently not even the undeniably good songs.” A slurpy sipping noise escaped my Pipbuck while Lexicon chuckled. “Well, so much for this being a serious conversation…”

I could hear the sly smile on Mizani’s face, “A serious conversation this is, friend. But not even the most dire of circumstances are completely devoid of humor. One must never take things too seriously, or you will find yourself within the position we now inhabit.” The zebra took another sip from his mug while Lexicon stayed quiet. “My people have forgotten how to laugh. Everything must be serious. Everything must be measured. Everything must be known. No zebra ever laughs or jokes or plays now. There is no balance, and our souls suffer for it.”

The sound of Lexicon’s hooves tapping together played out of my speaker, “What are your people normally like, then? Did they spend much time engaged in the pursuit of frivolity and merrymaking before? I’ve only met a few zebras, and you’re the one I’ve spent the most time with by far.”

Mizani’s voice was quizzical as he answered, “What do you mean, friend? Zebras are like ponies. Only they are not ponies, they are zebras.” Another small sipping noise played through my speaker, this one accompanied by the gentle tinkle of magic. Mizani continued through the nearly inaudible sound, “Zebras and ponies like to think themselves different from each other; separate. Zebras and ponies are ignorant. That ignorance is one of many things that bind us all together in commonality.”

It was Lexicon’s turn to smirk, evident by the playful tone of his voice. “I was hoping that someone would insult my intelligence when I got out of bed this morning…”

Mizani’s guffaw burst through my Pipbuck loudly as he quickly apologized, “I meant no offense, friend. You simply are not privy to seeing things as I see them.”

Lexicon’s voice was troubled and uncomfortable. “That’s… an odd word choice, Mizani.” The scratching sounds of the quill resumed.

“And an honest one, Lexicon. I may not be able to ‘see’ in the conventional sense, but I am no worse off for my disability. Truly, I have come to examine in great detail things that I believe most others do not fully appreciate.”

“Such as?”

“Your radio programs are not entirely devoid of merit. I once heard the sweetest of voices pleading for help for her ministry. Kindness, it was.”

Lexicon’s voice perked up. “Fluttershy? Rarity is a good friend of her’s. I’ve conversed with Fluttershy on more than one occasion while helping Rarity with business. Fluttershy certainly lives up to her name.”

Mizani’s voice was contemplative as he regarded the name. “Hmm… Fluttershy… The name rolls off the tongue. That mare is one of the most beautiful things in this world, I imagine.”

“Lots of ponies would agree with you on that. Fluttershy had a brief stint in her younger years as a model. And she’s on more than a couple Sparkle-Cola billboards out there.”

“Ahh, friend. That is my point. I could tell she was beautiful even without sight. It is evident in the sound of her voice, and in the words she chooses. Real beauty lies beneath the skin.”

A wry chuckle preceded Lexicon’s response. “I’ll be sure to tell our philosophers. They’ll probably be thrilled that they can call off the search for ‘real beauty.”

The two of them chuckled to themselves before Lexicon continued to rib his friend. “Care to tell us where ‘happiness’ lies?”

“Hmm, happiness… The eternal goal. I’m not entirely certain, but my best guess is that it lies somewhere between a mare’s legs.”

Lexicon guffawed loudly as I felt heat in my cheeks, “Mizani, you old dog!”

“Even blind zebra bucks have needs, old friend!”

“Just keep your ‘needs’ away from Star Bright! I don’t need my number one assistant to go gallivanting off to accompany you on one of your ‘adventures.”

“Mmm… I’ll be sure to restrain myself. Though I believe she only has eyes for another…”

Lexicon spoke evenly. “I’m going to ignore that. So, you wanted to record a conversation detailing how even a blind zebra finds Fluttershy attractive? Hardly something I would consider worthy of the attention of Image.”

“No. I wanted to tell you of how I see things.” The zebra took another sip from his mug before resuming the conversation. “The only regret that my blindness has given me is that I am no longer able to look into another’s eyes. I wish that I could peer into Fluttershy’s eyes. Then I believe my suspicions of her nature would be confirmed.”

“She’d probably try to hide from your scrutiny behind her mane. What would you be looking for, anyway?”

Mizani’s voice was erudite and calm as he answered. “The eyes are the windows to the soul, friend. Every zebra knows that. To stare into another’s eyes is to discern the nature of their soul.”

“Your people really believe that, don’t they? The bit about souls?”

“Belief requires faith, old friend. Zebras know so.” Mizani sighed, and the notes of mirth left his voice completely. His tone became somber and dark with his next words. “That is why I have come to you now. I’m hoping that you might be able to persuade somepony within your government to take my warning seriously.”

Lexicon’s voice adopted his friend’s serious tone. “Then we arrive at the heart of the matter. What warning do you have for us?”

Mizani’s voice carried the traces of fear, along with the tired strength that only comes from resignation. “There is a potion. Until recently, this potion was only spoken of in legend and myth. My people regarded it as an idle pipe dream. The unobtainable goal of witch-doctors and shamans. It was supposed to allow one to see the future. The ingredients were long regarded as impossible to obtain. But due to this war, I discovered a suitable substitute.”

Lexicon’s voice was apprehensive. “Mizani?”

“I brewed it. And drank it. And… I saw this world end.”

There was a brief pause as Lexicon gathered his thoughts. Soon, his voice was rattling off possible problems with his friend’s tale. “A potion to see the future seems farfetched, Mizani. And if this were a potion you were unfamiliar with, perhaps there was an error in the brewing process? Perhaps the substitute didn’t work properly, or you were only hallucinating?”

“I cannot discount that possibility. Many of my brethren believe that I have finally lost my mind, so perhaps I was hallucinating. But… if I am not insane…”

Mizani’s voice shook with fright. “Have you ever been so unequivocally certain about something so mind-numbingly horrible that you find your only recourse, the only pitiful bit of resistance you can dredge up against your nightmare, is to defiantly hope against the inevitable? It is as if I am standing upon the plains near my birth-village during a seasonal storm. The dry lightning brings fire to sweep through the tall grasses, and yet I can only wait for the flames to wash over me and pray to my ancestors that I be spared. Even now, I feel my sanity slipping, friend. But… I find that preferable to the hell that will come to be.”

Lexicon was trying to soothe his friend now. He adopted a comforting but wary tone. “I’m not saying that I believe this, but… Mizani, what did you see?”

The zebra’s voice sounded hollow as he recollected his vision. “Light. Blinding light so intense that your eyes are left forever dim in its wake. And then darkness. Cities obliterated in the span of a heartbeat. Islands sinking underneath boiling oceans. The sun’s fury called down upon the earth. The clouds rolling in to hide the ruined sky. A sick world growing sicker over centuries of rot and decay. And then… light… and darkness.”

There was a pregnant moment of silence from my Pipbuck. This zebra had known what was to happen to this world? I found myself wondering if there were others that had been privy to this knowledge, and if they had chosen to act on it or sweep it under the proverbial rug.
“I understand that nothing I do can change our future. It is already written within the annals of fate. It will come to pass. But how could I not act?” Mizani was pleading now. The desperation in his voice a far cry from the lighthearted mirth from earlier. “I need a favor, Lexicon. This is the most important thing I will ever ask of anyone. You’re the only pony- the only soul I would ever trust with this.”

The gentle rustle of hooves rummaging through packs played out of my Pipbuck before two heavy thumps against the table elicited a question from Lexicon. “Mizani, what are those-”

“Take this book.” The sound of Mizani pushing the tome toward his friend accompanied the zebra’s pleas. “Hide it. Walk to the middle of the desert and bury it deep beneath the earth. Place it under magical wards so complex that none shall ever know of it. If you are unable to do that, then lock it away within the most impenetrable safe at your disposal and throw away the key. And when you’re done, erase the memory from your own mind to safeguard its location.”

Lexicon’s incredulous voice questioned his friend’s caution. “These books are dangerous enough to merit all of those precautions?”

“They are more dangerous than I hope you will ever know. These books are two halves of a whole. I aim to separate that union. I will carry the other with me as I travel, and hope to find a suitable place to hide it away. It is the only act I believe will make a difference now. I only pray that I can complete my task in time.” The rustling of Mizani’s packs played through my Pipbuck again as he stuffed the other book back into his bags.

Lexicon balked at that. “Wait, hold up. If you’re trying to get rid of these, why don’t you just burn them?”

Mizani breathed an exhausted sigh of exasperation. “Because… I was a fool, old friend. Fire will not burn them, their pages refuse to tear, and even if I still possessed the power to do what must be done I do not have the will to harm them.” There was a short pause before he added, “It is very hard to destroy an item bound to your soul, Lexicon.”

The recording ended, leaving me to puzzle out the meaning of what I had just heard. I had absolutely no idea what all that talk regarding souls was about, and I didn’t recognize any of the names that the two had used during their conversation save for “Image.” Scribe Holly had used that name several times in the library to refer to a ministry of some sort, but I was still clueless as to what she had meant. The idea of a potion that could foretell the future was… astounding, to say the least. Mother had never made mention of anything like that. If I had been in Lexicon’s position, I’m certain that I would have shared his reaction.

I rolled over in the bed again, a soft moan of pain escaping my lips as my body continued to ache dully. I couldn’t be bothered with past conspiracies while my body was in such a tragically frail state. My mind was still hazy and dull from the radiation, and exhaustion gripped me relentlessly. I needed to brew my own portion of Dragon’s Breath, and quickly.

It was a monumental struggle to simply pull the covers away and edge towards the side of the bed. I found myself panting from the exertion, and the hellish nausea still wracked my poor stomach with an excruciating intensity. I lay still, trying to catch my breath while one of my hind legs dangled over the side of the mattress.

The sound of the bathroom door closing caught my attention. I looked up to see my sister without her cloak for the first time since we had left the Stable, her stripes and tornado cutie-mark in plain view for all the world to see. There was a fresh scar along the side of her neck. Knowing her, she probably thought of it as an enhancement to her appearance.

“You look like hell, Sis.” Her striped muzzle was grinning, despite the playful insult.

I was still panting as I tried to answer her. “Feel… like I’ve… been… through…” I shook my head, anyone with working eyes could plainly see the state I was in, and there was much more important conversation to be had. “I’m… sorry… Nohta. About…” One of my legs slipped, and I felt myself slowly sliding off of the bed.

She ambled towards me, and nonchalantly stopped my descent with a gentle hoof. I silently thanked the moon and stars that she had remembered not to press against my wounded shoulder.

She continued to grin as she chided me. “Careful now. Doc said you’re supposed to take it easy for a while.”

Fatigue and radiation rendered me nearly unable to look into her beautiful amethyst eyes. “Sorry about… earlier… sister.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Eh, whatever. I’m just glad that you’re awake.” She finally lost her grin as her eyes bore into my own. “We need to hurry up and brew that potion, Sis. We’ve been soaking in rads for a few days now. I don’t want…” Her voice died off she stared anxiously at me.

I nodded my head, rustling my mane against the pillow before her words finally struck home. My eyes widened as I gasped, “Days!?”

“We were both out for two days after Bright Eyes. The doctor used up all of his RadAway on the both of us, and I woke up three days ago. But you...” Her face twisted in worry and displeasure, accompanied by the barest hint of a quivering lip and nearly inaudible warble in her voice. “Fuck, Sis… Can we hurry?”

We were worse off than I had thought. Mother had only lasted weeks before… I nodded again, wincing and grunting through grit teeth as I forced myself to strain against my wounds and sickness in order to rise from the bed. I was hardly in a state for the delicate process of brewing, but time was of the essence. “Nohta… can you… help me?”

She gingerly grasped me around my barrel, easing me out of bed. “Of course. You need me to go grab anything else? I think you’ve got all the stuff you need.”

I was panting again by the time my hooves reached the hard floor. “No… I mean… with the potion.”

She flinched before guiding me to the alchemy set and scattered ingredients. “Shit, Sis… you want me to actually make it?”

I swallowed back the rising urge to vomit. “I can’t… can’t use my magic. Can’t handle the…too… clumsy.”

She lowered me to the floor as I sat on my haunches in front of the fire talisman. After making sure that I was stable enough to sit up straight, she tip-hoofed over the scattered roots, berries, leaves, and other miscellaneous items. “Okay, okay. I got it.” Her tone of voice betrayed her worry even as she tried to instill a sense of confidence in herself. Her eyes scanned the menagerie of beakers, scales, and other paraphernalia before rising to meet my own as she nodded. “Just… just tell me what to do.”

And with that, I began the arduous and frustrating process of slowly guiding my sister through brewing Dragon’s Breath. Please don’t misunderstand me, I am in no way trying to imply that my sister is a dunce. Far from it. The fact that she was able to follow my pained instructions and successfully brew Dragon’s Breath at all should give you some idea of just how clever she can be.

Yes, I helped her. A lot. And even after we had thrown out two failed attempts at the potion, and wasted a good deal of ingredients in the process, she only just barely managed to get the precise timing and measurements down. She persevered through the humiliation of multiple failures without so much as a single sign of weariness or mental fatigue, only offering up a terse swear in show of her frustration before immediately setting about preparing for the next batch. It is hard for me to put into words just how comforting I found her resolve in the face of adversity. Especially when I so desperately needed her help.

My sister is far from the mindless brute that so many believe her to be. But alchemy is special. Alchemy is more than a science, it is an art. It is magic. And like all magic, it requires more than conscious thought and rigorous study to fully bend it to your will. The most important aspect of magic is intent. But… who am I to lecture you about magic? My apologies. On with the tale.

The brew had just managed to turn its signature shade of furious crimson when Margarita exited the bathroom with Nohta’s cleaned and mostly dried cloak slung over her back. I looked up to her curious expression with a newfound sense of respect and admiration for the mare.

Her quizzical features turned to a bemused grin as she walked to Nohta and laid the cloak at my sister’s hooves. With a sizable measure of embarrassment, I realized I had been staring at her. I quickly averted my eyes, tapping the side of the talisman to reduce the heat as she snorted and silently giggled at my expense.

Nohta’s hard eyes were glued to the bubbling red liquid in the pot atop the talisman, as if she were a jailer watching an inmate who was about to make a sudden and desperate bid for freedom. “Hey Marge, thanks for cleaning the cloak. Can you hoof me that bottle again?” She waved her hoof at the bottle of vodka that was just out of her reach.

Margarita paused, lowering her face to squint at the bubbling pot as she sniffed the contents. Sitting back on her haunches, she pointed a lime-green hoof at the pot, then at my sister and I, and then pantomimed the drinking of a beverage. She then stared at Nohta and arched an eyebrow.

Nohta’s eyes glanced at Margarita for the briefest of moments before darting back to intimidate the potion back into the pot before it could escape. “Ya, this is the potion I told you about. Candy already used it on that kid back in Coltsville, but now we gotta drink it too.”

Margarita shrugged and sauntered over to the bottle, accidentally tipping the still-lidded container on its side with a hoof and sending it rolling across the floor. I raised my eyes to her face again, this time just noticing the subtle tinge of red splayed across her amused face. Wait… was she drunk?

The bottle rolled underneath the bed adjacent to my own, and the inebriated mare poked her head underneath the cot to retrieve it; her rump bobbing obscenely in the air as if she were dancing to some inaudible tune. My eyes drifted to her cutie-mark, a squat glass of liquid with a salted rim and a wedge of lime. That was an alcoholic beverage for a cutie-mark… How did that even happen? Who would give alcohol to a filly?

Her backside ceased its bobbing just as I realized I had been staring again. Her face had resurfaced from the underside of the bed, and she was smirking at me with the most evil grin a pony could possibly manage to portray. Oh Goddess… she… surely she didn’t think that I had been...

Heat flooded my cheeks just as nausea flooded my gut. I pointedly stared at the bubbling concoction, ignoring the uncomfortable dearth of conversation in favor of the thick, wet popping noises of the viscous bubbles bursting atop the brew. Goddess, what an embarrassing-

“Candy!” Nohta was shouting at me over top of the bubbling mixture, her eyes set hard with annoyance.

I spluttered out the first response my foggy mind could generate. “Er… wh-what?”

Nohta’s ear flicked as she repeated the missed question. “I said… are you sure this is enough? If we divvy it up, is it gonna get all the rads out of both of us?”

My mind was still fuzzy from exhaustion and sickness. I stammered as my thoughts poured out of my mouth in whatever haphazard manner they pleased. “Y-yes… The potion uses… radiation powers the... meant to act as… catalyst for… chain reaction. Cascade of… arcane-”

Nohta facehoofed and sighed, “Candy… can you explain it in ‘Not-super-egghead?”

I rubbed a feeble hoof against a temple, trying to massage some coherence into my mind. “Uh… Triggers… er… induces…kickstarts...”

Nohta’s eyebrow raised dangerously as she separated the vodka into two clear bottles and added the brew to the alcohol.

I tried one last time. “We’ll throw up. It will… continue until… no more… radiation...”

“Okay. So we have enough for now. But we’ll make some more later when we get the chance. Then we won’t have to worry about this shit happening again.” She shook one bottle vigorously between her hooves before setting it down in front of me and staring into my eyes. “Agreed?”

“Agreed… sister.” I took the bottle between my hooves, cradling it against my barrel as I waited for her to finish preparing her own bottle and don her garment.

Nohta’s voice was only slightly muffled by the fabric and concealed armor padding as she wriggled into her cloak. “Hey Marge, can you go make sure that the coast is clear? We gotta take this outside.”

My eyes caught Margarita’s as she sauntered off towards the door. The mischievous wink she sent my way only served to set my cheeks ablaze a second time before she mercifully exited the building. As if the misunderstanding hadn’t been embarrassing enough! Now she was silently needling me about it!

Nohta picked her own bottle up as soon as she was fully clothed. “You ready?”

I nodded as another wave of nausea and dull pain washed over my body. “Quite.”

The two of us made our way into the streets. The brisk morning air danced coolly across my naked coat, sending a prickly sensation along my body. The sun hadn’t yet had time to bake the desert in its sweltering heat, and most of the town’s residents were still asleep in their beds. Only a few stragglers speckled the road leading to the doctor’s clinic, most of them stumbling in a drunken stupor as they attempted to remember how to find their beds.

Margarita had corralled the majority of the drunks down an alleyway, but a purple mare with a contented grin and a set of combat barding was still supporting the weight of a clearly inebriated yellow stallion as they ambled down the street past us. Nohta and I sat in the middle of the road, preparing ourselves for what was to come from the potion. Despite the purple mare’s hurried attempts to get her charge home, the yellow stallion’s ears perked up underneath his heavy combat helmet. He had recognized us.

His slurred speech came through a thick and dopey grin, “H-Hey, Haze… check it out. Told you she was a spy. She’s wearing an asss...assssasssssss. Hehe… a zebra cape.”

The purple mare rolled her bloodshot eyes and gave us a rather sedate and apologetic grin before speaking slowly and evenly. “And I told them to ignore you, Cross. They ain’t spies. One of ‘em’s a doctor.” She tugged at her friend’s leg, urging him along. “Come on… we got places to be. And I need you to rip my barding off.”

As he was dragged along behind the corner of a building, his voice carried. “The white one was pretty. We should ask if… if she wants to join in. I bet she’d be down to-” A loud thud resounded from around the corner before the stallion’s voice mumbled a drunken apology.

The streets were finally clear of ponies that might inadvertently get caught up in the blast of our radiological purgation. Nohta and I shared one final glance before standing side by side and draining the bottles as quickly as we could manage. The taste was… not at all like the potion’s overbearing cinnamon aroma. If I were to put it delicately, I would say that it tasted like a rotten apple core that had been wrapped in moldy hay and dipped in dragon perspiration.

The disgusting flavor that assaulted my tongue with all the subtlety of a screeching raider clad in entrails and polka dots was more than sufficient to tip my nauseous gut over the edge of no return. My ears drooped limply against the sides of my head while every hair on my body stood on end. The bottle fell from my grasp to shatter at my hooves, and I could feel the all too familiar sensation of a storm brewing within my belly to rise and place an uncomfortable pressure against the back of my throat. An unfamiliar though not entirely unpleasant warmth flooded my veins as what I can only describe as a violent maelstrom of motion danced in my stomach.

I inhaled one last cold breath before bracing myself against my outstretched hooves. Then the purging came. I would describe the visual effects for you, but my eyes had shut tight from pain and discomfort. Oddly enough, the fire didn’t burn on the way out. There was only an enticing and comfortable warmth, and the curious sensation of rapid movement through my lungs and throat; as if my chest had become a fount for some some great arcane power. With each heaving breath I felt more alive. With each tear that was forcibly squeezed from my eyes I felt more… clean. It was as if I had been soaking in murky pools all my life, only to finally find an oasis of crystal clear water to scourge the filth from my soul.

As the effects began to wear off, I found myself able to open my eyes. My sister was panting heavily at my side, little puffs of smoke and flame preceding the bobbing motes of emerald light that exited her gasping mouth. In front of me, a great plume of green flame was dissipating to give way to the sight of a swarm of viridian lights dancing in chaotic swirls before winking out one by one. Further ahead, an ancient stop sign was glowing white hot, the metal pole that supported the sign slowly sagging and bending backward so that the sign’s luminous face now pointed towards the clouded sky. Somewhere in the distance, a single stallion’s drunken voice called out to the night, “That wash AWESHOME!”

My shoulder still throbbed with a furious ache, exacerbated by my recent activity, and my horn still felt fuzzy and lifeless, but the nausea and weakness had left my body entirely. I was now easily able to balance myself on my three good legs. I did so as I smiled at my sister’s still-hooded face.

“Nohta, I think it-” I burped up a single puff of light green smoke. A bobbing and weaving mote of light drifted past my eyes before sinking into the ground at my hooves. I sat on my haunches as I lifted my right foreleg to my embarrassed face. “Oh, goodness! Excuse me!”

Nohta snorted and shook her head, chuckling to herself. “Ya, I’d say so. You feeling okay?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Compared to earlier? Absolutely wonderful! I only wish that my magic had returned in the process.”

Nohta’s tone belied the grin that she wore underneath her hood. “Hehe… can’t… get it all, huh?”

Margarita ambled towards the two of us, eyes wide and jaw slack. Now it was her turn to stare.

Old habits die hard. My very next thought was to check on my sister. “Nohta? Are you alright, dear?”

She nodded underneath her hood, her voice sounding much more tired than just a moment ago. “Ya, ya I’m good. Just kinda…. worn out. I feel… stronger… but not as healthy, I guess.”

“Probably just a delayed effect of the potion, dear. You seemed to be having a much easier time of dealing with the radiation than I was. Perhaps you just need some sleep, I daresay that we could both do with a few nights of decent rest and-” My stomach chose that time to interrupt me in the most unladylike fashion possible, growling and snarling like a savage beast. “Ah… and perhaps a few decent meals as well.” My extremely empty stomach continued to rumble as hunger pangs swept through my torso with an undeniable insistence.

“Heh… you don’t know the half of it yet, Sis. I’ll tell you later. Margie, can you show her the kitchen in Doc’s place? I really need to go pass out for a while.” Nohta trotted past me before I remembered the doctor’s request.

“Err… actually, Nohta…” My sister turned to see my sheepish expression. “Doc Flannel decided that he, um…” My eyes glanced nervously around us as I searched for how to broach the subject, drawing a complete blank for the best way to do so. My voice was a tired and embarrassed whisper as I gave up and relayed the doctor’s wishes. “...he didn’t want us to stay with him any longer.”

Nohta’s expression was unreadable under her hood. Margarita’s, though, was anything but. Her head tilted as her eyebrows scrunched together in a menacing scowl. She hastily extracted a notepad from her packs and scribbled down a single word before practically shoving the misspelled note in my face. “Explane.”

“Well…” I began, still uncomfortable with what I was about to admit, “you know about… us.” I glanced at Nohta, waiting for Margarita’s quick head nod to signify that she understood me. “The doctor was… uncomfortable with the prospect of being associated with...” My voice trailed off as I pointed a hoof first to my sister, and then to myself. I bit my lip as my face twisted in worry. The doctor was a good pony. He was only thinking of his family. It was a worry I could easily relate to.

Nohta’s voice came out from underneath her hood, dripping with indignation. “You fucking kidding me? After what we did for him?”

That… was an odd word choice. I certainly remembered how I had cared for the patients of Mareon when the doctor had been unable to. But my little sister? What had she done? “Nohta, what are you talking about?”

She was hissing under her breath just as her ears twitched underneath her hood. “Oh, nothing much. Just the part where I fucking broke into the general store last night in order to steal a shitload of medicine for that greedy bastard.”

My jaw fell at the grim news of recent events. “Nohta! You what!?”

She peered down both ends of the street before leaning in close and pulling her hood back far enough that most of her face was uncovered. I was given a clear view into her eyes as she spoke in a low and dangerous tone. “Part of that haul was so he could restock his clinic without buying the shit.” She spoke slowly and forcefully to emphasize her next words. “And part of that medicine was extra RadAway and Buck.” Her eyes bore into my own with a cold intensity. “We needed it to get you to wake up.”

Oh Goddess… She had… for me. “Nohta…” My good hoof found my lips, muffling the gasp that escaped them. “But… Nohta… you’re speaking of stealing from innocent ponies!”

Her hoof grabbed me around the back of my neck, pulling my face closer to hers. Her amethyst eyes dominated my vision as she nearly growled, “For you, I’d do worse.” Her hoof released me, and she pulled her cloak back over her face before dropping her voice low in a tone that left me genuinely horrified. “A lot worse.”

Goddess… she had already crossed the threshold I had been worrying about. The line I had cried myself to sleep over. I couldn’t think of anything to say. The deed had already been done. I ignored the searing pain in my shoulder as my hooves pulled her into my chest. “Nohta…”

Her only response was a cold and resolved whisper into my ear as she clutched at my nearly-sobbing form. “Truth number two.”

Like a phantom called forth with a mystical invocation, a memory of Moonglow’s preaching rose to prominence within my mind. I shuddered at the recollection of one of my best friends from a happier time, and held my sister more tightly as Moonglow’s voice echoed one of Luna’s great teachings. “Be faithful to friends and family. For Loyalty is among the greatest of virtues.”

After collecting our things from Doc Flannel’s clinic, Margarita led Nohta and I across town to a large pre-war brick house bearing a garishly colorful yellow and green sign above its porch that simply read: “MMMMMMM Headquarters” I noted with some curiosity that three of the letters had been slashed diagonally with red paint, leaving me wondering what “MMMM” could possibly stand for. A smaller wooden sign stuck out of the ground at a crooked angle, reading plainly: “No job too small. Discount for caravan protection.”

A cool morning breeze sent shivers along my spine and whipped my mane in my face as our hooves thudded dully against the wooden porch. The cracked and peeling door creaked slightly when Margarita’s hooves pushed it inward, and as we stepped over the pitch-black threshold my nostrils were assaulted with the familiar and alluring odors of paper and ink. The subtle notes of gun-oil and citrus fruit drifted past my nose as Margarita trotted into the shadows confidently. The sounds of stray bits of paper being crunched underhoof preceded a loud clanging noise and several streaking purple sparks that zipped through the gloom.

One moment of mechanical sputtering and coughing later the whole house lit up to reveal an absolutely disastrous mess of an otherwise wide and inviting living area. To my right were several stained and ripped sofas arranged around a coffee table that was piled high with dog-eared magazines. To my left: a kitchen full of empty liquor bottles and bowls of (real!) fruit and vegetables. Directly in front of the entrance and only a few pony-lengths away was a large business desk pockmarked with dozens of little gouges that I could only assume were left from the large serrated combat knife that had been plunged into its wooden top.

Behind the desk was a wide floor with weightlifting equipment, bucking bags, and a long table that was littered with disassembled rifles, submachine guns, pistols, shotguns, and even a round wooden basket of grenades that bore an uncanny likeness to a bushel of real apples. Empty bottles of beer filled the spaces on the table between the weaponry. Crates and boxes marked with numbers denoting different calibers of ammunition lined the back wall next to a workbench outfitted with an odd contraption of levers and gears. Just as I was beginning to think that my sister and I had walked into an armory, Doc Flannel’s words came rushing back to me; “Only mercs we got ‘round these parts are Margarita’s company...”

Nohta voice nearly squeaked in excitement, “Holy shit, Marge! I didn’t think you had this much hardware!”

Margarita’s light-green face was grinning smugly around the heavy wrench in her teeth as she leaned casually on the generator that she had just beaten back to life. After spitting the tool back on top of the generator, she kicked several depleted spark batteries out of the way and trotted back towards us. A quick moment of scribbling later, she proffered her note to my sister and sat on her haunches amidst a sea of crumpled up wads of paper.

Nohta read the note aloud as my eyes continued to scan the room in newfound awe. “This is MMMM Company’s old hangout. Stay here as long as you want.”

My ears perked up at that, “That is… exceedingly generous of you, Margarita. We really have no choice but to accept.”

My sister was quick to agree, pulling her hood back to reveal her striped smile. “Yeah. Thanks Marge.”

Margarita scrawled another hasty note before hoofing it over to my sister, who allowed the previous message to fall to the cluttered floor before reading the new one aloud. “Food / clean water in fridge. Cots in back past hoof-loader. Bathroom’s back there too. Don’t soak in the tub too long ‘cause radiation.”

This mare was heaping generosity upon us in our most dire time of need. I needed to let her know just how thankful we were, and a proper lady always repays her debts promptly. “Margarita, darling, you’re helping us so much. There has to be some way that we can return the favor.”

Margarita’s eyes questioned me even as the corner of her mouth turned upwards in a half-smirk. Why was she looking at me like that? With a small head shake and amused snort, she took her time writing another note.

Nohta continued to read for me, this time her voice taking on a perplexed tone. “Oh, don’t worry. You will. As much as I’d like to just give you two free room and board, I have a business to try and put back together. You two are gonna help me with that as soon as I call in a few favors and get things straightened out. But for now, the both of you need to just take it slow. Nobody comes away from a fight with Bright Eyes ready to do anything.”

Margarita had already written another note by the time Nohta was done reading. “...Well, unless you’re a pegasus… I have a friend to get in touch with, distractions to arrange, and guards to bribe. Help yourselves to the fridge and beds, I’ll be back later.”

Margarita trotted to the aforementioned refrigerator, pried back the off-white door, and extracted one of the dozens of bottles of water before smiling warmly at the two of us and departing into the chilly morning breeze. The near silence of the house was only offset by the gentle hum of the electrical generator and the rumbling of my empty stomach as I mimicked our suddenly absent host and made a beeline for the food and water. The crinkle and rustle of dozens of wadded up notes towards the back of the room made my ears stand on end, only just barely succeeded in dragging my attention away from an aptly named “Hungry Mare” pre-packaged dinner.

Nohta yawned mightily and slowly advanced towards the back rooms as the edge of her cloak dragged and rolled the bits of paper along the floor. “I gotta go hit the hay.”

I reached out a hoof to her, a decision I soon came to regret as my shoulder throbbed with pain. “Sis- urgh, that hurts…” I pulled my leg back to my chest and braced myself against the open refrigerator door. “Wait, Nohta. We need to talk about this.”

“No, Candy. We really don’t. I’ve been up for... “ She rubbed her eyes and groaned. “... fuck, I don’t even know how long. I need sleep.”

I should have known better than to start an argument, but my curiosity and concern demanded answers. “Nohta! We need to discuss what’s transpired! Your actions could have devastating consequences on our relationship with the only group of civil ponies we know!”

Her bleary eyes cast an angry glare in my direction as she trudged back towards me through the paper and tin cans littered upon the floor. “You really want to do this now?”

I nodded, returning the glare even as I anxiously awaited what I was about to hear. “Yes, sister. I need to know everything. Don’t spare any detail, just tell me what has happened.”

“Ugh… fine.” She snorted, flicking her tail underneath her cloak as she made her way to the table and lazily shoved a half-dozen empty liquor bottles out of the way so that she could prop up a leg on the dirty surface. “Grab some water and take a seat. This is gonna take a while.” I did as she advised, listening intently to her tale.

“Alright…” She rubbed her eyes and started, “so, Bright Eyes kicked our asses. I took a bite to the neck and passed out before she got you from across the river, right?”

I sipped from my water, only just barely avoiding spilling it all over myself due to my clumsy hooves. “Correct.”

Her hoof was tapping at the table, lending emphasis to her words. “So we’re both pretty fucked. She’s blasting us with some crazy radiation shit like those glowing ones, right? Your magic is fucked, I’m bleeding out and unconscious, then you rip your shoulder back open trying to drag me away and pass out too.”

I wrinkled my brow, “How did you know-”

She groaned, as if I were missing the obvious. “The Cheeses were the only other folks there, Sis. Who do you think carried us back to Mareon? They told me what happened after I woke up in the clinic a few days ago.”

Actually, that was a bit obvious. I stared into my water bottle as I answered, “I see.”

She continued evenly, despite the exhaustion seeping into her voice. “Cabernet bandaged you up and stopped your bleeding, then they got us into one of their carts and hauled us to town. Cheddar paid off the doctor to get us fixed up, and now we owe them a lot of caps for that. She must be pretty good with bandages, because my neck was already healed and scarring over by the time I woke up. You though…”

Nohta was having trouble meeting my eyes. Her voice trembled ever so slightly as she continued. “Doc used all of his RadAway on the both of us. I came out of it a little sick and dizzy, but you wouldn’t wake up. Your shoulder wasn’t healing and you kept… You were having nightmares, Sis.” Oh Luna, please tell me that I hadn’t been talking in my sleep!

With every word, Nohta’s tone of voice became less anxious and more self-righteous. As if she were explaining to a foal how she had acted in the only morally justifiable way. “I’m not… I’m not like you, Candy. I’m like Mom. I don’t know shit about medicine. Every couple hours the doctor would come back to check up on you. And every couple hours the news was the same. You were getting worse! We needed medicine, so when he told me where to get it, I just went ahead and got it.”

She waved her hoof toward the door, “That’s when Margarita saw me coming out of the store. I didn’t know if she was gonna tell the guards or what, but she just let me explain what was going on and then she nodded like it was no big deal. Then she offered to help us.”

I held up my good hoof, shaking my head lightly as I pleaded with her. “But Nohta, why steal the medicine? Couldn’t Doc Flannel have simply paid for it?”

Her eyes hardened, and her ears flicked as she answered. “Doc didn’t have the caps to buy it. After the mayor forced him to keep his clinic open and heal the wounded he ran out of stuff quick. And we used up all of our caps buying ammo from the Cheese family.” Those beautiful eyes of hers finally met my own, glaring horribly in my direction. “Which, by the way, we’re fucking out of now because of your Goddess-damned idea to go check out the library!”

My jaw dropped as I quickly apologized for what I already understood to be a grievous error in judgement. “I’m sorry, Nohta! I didn’t think that we would find anypony there!”

Her voice rose as her fury threatened to spill over at any moment. “Well we did, didn’t we? And now we’re basically out of everything! The only fucking plan we had was to sell off some shit and collect the bounties for these raider ears and The Pyro’s mask! But how the hell was I supposed to collect on the bounties? If I walked into the sheriff's office then he would’ve wanted to see my face. You’ve read Mom’s book! We would both get booted out of town if they find out what we are!”

“Nohta... “ I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. “Nohta you stole from an innocent pony that was only trying to run a business. You’ve become a thief! You never did anything like that back in the Stable!”

Her glare hardened further as her voice sank low and dangerous. “You think it was easy to watch you go through what Mom went through? You think it was easy to just sit there and pray to Luna that you would get better?” Her hoof slammed into one of the liquor bottles, sending it crashing against the wall to shatter into dozens of tiny shards as I gasped at the sudden outburst.

Her eyes flashed brilliantly as she finally let loose the rage that had been bubbling beneath the surface. “You almost fucking DIED! What the fuck was I supposed to do? I didn’t have a choice, Candy!”

I bore the full brunt of her emotions; eyes wide and hoof covering my quivering lips as the full realization of our own precarious situation washed over me. Tears were streaming down my face again, a sensation I had become all too familiar with over the past few weeks. But my tears weren’t alone this time.

The stripes on Nohta’s face had darkened, glistening even as she rubbed her hoof against her cheeks to brush the wetness away. “I can’t… I can’t go through… Not again. Don’t you fucking make me go through that again…” She was openly sobbing now, her striped and scarred visage twisted in agony.

I still felt the bitter sting of her enraged shouting, but she was my sister, and family always forgives. I held my good hoof out to cover her own, whispering softly to comfort her. “Nohta, I’m so sorry. But please, you must understand. If you had gotten caught… If Margarita hadn’t been the pony to see you exiting the store… Think of what would have happened. You have to be more careful. You can’t draw attention to yourself like that.”

She withdrew her hoof as her eyes pinned me in place once more, “Oh, yeah. Because we want all the attention on you! You’re probably loving the fact that nearly everypony we’ve met has had a thing for you!”

I gasped, taken aback by the absurdity and forthrightness of her accusation. “Nohta! That’s not what I meant and you know it! I’m only thinking of our well being!” At the time, I had written off her comment as delirium brought on by her sleep deprivation; something my still fever-fuzzy mind could easily store away and forget. Goddess, I was dense back then.

She stood up suddenly, sending her chair clattering to the floor. “You could at least say ‘Thank you!”

I couldn’t possibly thank her for wronging somepony. Instead, my mind wandered back to the only phrase I truly wished to utter. I blinked away more tears as I looked up at her scowling face. “I… you know what I really want to say, sister.”

Her fury broke, quickly disappearing underneath her emotional pain. She averted her eyes, shuffling towards me until she could throw her hoof around my neck and sob into my mane above my aching shoulder. Her strength compared to my own was intense, and I felt very nearly as if she were attempting to crush me with her embrace. But rather than whimper in pained protest or attempt to squirm out of the hug, I relished the feeling; burying my own face in her mane as I succumbed to the truth she had told me and wrapped my healthy leg around her.

What she had done, she had done solely for my benefit. I would have been dead several times over if not for her actions. At a time like that, words were simply inappropriate to convey what we both felt.

I felt her swallow back her emotions before she whispered into my ear, “We… we’re fucked aren’t we, Sis? This shit isn’t working out... ”

I pulled her closer with my good leg, hoping that my words of caution would sink in this time. “LIfe on the surface isn’t at all what I had imagined. Forget our vendetta with the raiders, slavers, and mercenaries, we can’t even survive out here by ourselves. We need help, Nohta.”

She pulled away from me, nodding in agreement. “...Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” She took a moment to calm herself and laid out the only option we had left to us as she slowly recovered. “Margarita is basically our only friend out here. The Cheeses are still hanging out in town for a while, but Margie is the only local that we can count on. We should do as she says, and then listen to her offer.”

We really didn’t have a choice as to whether or not we could accept or decline her hospitality, but I still wasn’t convinced that I wanted anything to do with somepony engaged in her particular profession. “Nohta, Margarita is a mercenary. I’m not entirely sure that I want to be killing for caps.”

Nohta shook her head. “So she’s a merc, big deal. How is that different from what Mom used to do?” I… I hadn’t thought of it like that. My sister continued, oblivious to my small revelation and far-off expression, “But I don’t think she’s gonna be wanting a couple of rookies that wound up on her doorstep nearly dead, anyway. For all she knows, we probably aren’t even all that good at fighting. I think she wants us to do something else.”

My brow rose at that. “She doesn’t know? Are you positive that you made no mention of our encounter with The Pyro or our excursion into Coltsville?”

Her eyes went wide. “I… uh… I may have shown her the mask.”

I sighed, staring at my sister as I felt my face wrinkle in exasperation and worry.

“I was proud of that fight, okay!? We totally kicked flank! And… you know…” She rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof as she continued, “You were the one that said we should try to team up with her.”

I shook my head, “Not as fighters under her employ! I wanted to pay her to assist us in our endeavors!”

Nohta’s gaze traveled across the room as she shrugged apologetically. “Well…what else can we do, Sis?”

My stomach decided that the conversation had gone on long enough, rumbling loudly even as my mind searched fruitlessly for an answer to Nohta’s query.

She yawned again, her maw stretching wide as she rubbed her now bloodshot eyes. “I need some sleep. And I don’t like arguing with you.” She turned to make her way to the bedroom, only to pause and add one final comment as she looked back to me. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

The corners of my mouth turned up at the simple remark, “I’m glad too. Thank you, Nohta. Go get some rest, sister.”

The scar across her cheek wrinkled as she grinned. Then she yawned once more and nearly staggered towards the back of the house. I was, once again, left alone.

After she had disappeared into the back rooms, I returned my focus to the unsuspecting refrigerator and it’s cache of questionable nutritious value. I won’t lie, I devoured two of those pre-packaged meals and was working on a third before I realized that I hadn’t even bothered to search the kitchen for utensils. Cold corn and beans may not possess the wonderfully nuanced and balanced flavors of one of Mother’s delicious soups, but hunger has forever been the best spice. The ravenous and bottomless abyss that was my stomach had thrown all grace and proper decorum to the wayside in favor of satisfying a simple base need.

With my hunger finally abated, I resumed sitting quietly at the table as I sipped more water and picked absentmindedly at the last container of food. Nohta had only left me a few minutes ago but I was already bored to tears, and without any company to keep my mind occupied I soon found myself lost in thought. I couldn’t help but worry about the situation we had found ourselves in, and how we would deal with the fresh hardships the future would heap upon us.

It was that thought that reminded me of the cold determination I had found within myself outside my stable. No matter what troubles this world would bring, I would meet them. If my sister was willing to go to such extreme lengths for my sake, and had only been forced to do so because I had been incapable of overcoming the obstacles set before us, then the answer to how I could keep her safe was obvious: I’d have to prevent myself from ever being in that situation again.

My hooves shoved bowls of produce and liquor bottles to the other side of the table, sending errant brass bullet casings clattering to the floor as I cleared a space within which I could work comfortably. I drained the last remnants of water from my bottle over the table and wiped it down with the cleanest rag I could find, then set the empty plastic container to the side. If my sister had to pick up the slack for my weakness, then I’d have to make myself stronger. And at that moment, my most glaring weakness was my inability to use magic.

Mother’s book impacted against the table’s surface with a satisfying thud, and my good hoof flipped the pages to the recipe I was looking for. As I began to work, snippets of Mother’s smooth and exotic voice pierced the focus of my mind.

“...can’t take credit for this one. My sister taught it to me. It’s one of the ancient recipes…”

The witchweed’s bitter aroma joined the other scents that lingered within the room as I awkwardly gripped my tools in my hooves and ground the dried fern into a fine powder with my mortar and pestle. My aching shoulder fought me every step of the way, sending little twinges of pain lancing through my leg and chest to distract me from the task at hoof. My inexpert hooves slipped a number of times, giving the pestle ample opportunity to make a mad dash for freedom as it rolled across the table before I could reclaim it.

A full five stalks of the weed were called for to brew a single dosage of this elixir, but I needed to be at my best quickly; and Mother’s notes were replete with fantastical promises of its efficacy. Whenever my clumsy hooves tipped the mortar over and spilled the herb onto the table’s surface I simply got up, procured one of the less pornographic magazines from the coffee table by the sofas, and used it to scoop up the precious bits of dried plant matter.

“...your father was exceptionally fond of it. He found it especially useful after lots of taxing teleportation spells…”

After adding several fat purple berries and multiple bottles of water to my small pot I had been forced to tilt my neck at an awkward angle to stir the sweetly spicy potion properly. Holding the wooden spoon between my teeth wasn’t as difficult to manage as I had been dreading; I only ended up with five little splinters in my lips and a sore neck. And although my shoulder continued to protest my actions with as much fervor as it could muster, the spoon in my mouth provided a convenient bit against which I could grit my teeth to fight the pain. My hoof dug into one of the bowls on the table, dragging out a couple of squat and vibrantly colored peppers before I tipped the bowl over and sent an empty tin can clattering to the floor. The yellow and red fruits bobbed on top of the thin green liquid in my cookpot; my heavy and frustrated exhalations pushing them about before they sank into the brew and dissolved fully.

“...much experimentation, I believe I have improved upon the original…”

All that was left to do was allow the brew to simmer as I occasionally stirred it with the uncomfortable and splintery spoon. It had taken two excruciatingly slow hours for me to do with my hooves what I could have accomplished in a quarter of the time with my horn. If all went according to plan, I wouldn’t have that problem for much longer.

“I call it a ‘Mana’ potion.”

The spicy and sweet aroma obliterated the other smells of the room. After deactivating the fire talisman with a couple of quick hoof taps, I simply had to wait for the potion to cool. I had just cleaned up the shattered bottle that Nohta had left upon the floor when the door opened with a slight creak.

Margarita’s eyes flew open as she was assaulted with the heady scent of the brew. Her lime-green face beamed in the direction of the kitchen table as she re-entered her domain, casually kicking the door closed with a hind leg. The saddlebags that hung from her sides were filled to the brim with oddly shaped purple fruit.

She stared transfixed at the pot atop the table as she ambled forward like a mare possessed, licking her lips free of the drool threatening to pour out of her mouth. Panicking at the approaching demise of my hard work, I threw my hoof in her path and shouted,”Wait!”

Now, I should probably state that I held no ill will against this mare. Her aid had gone a long way in preserving my life, and her continuing generosity had given Nohta and I a safe haven within Mareon. Truly, I was already beginning to think of her as a friend. But it is exceedingly hard to not be frustrated with anyone when they greedily guzzle hours worth of arduous work within a span of a few terrible seconds. By The Dark Mother, she hadn’t even used a spoon to ladle it into a bowl! She had simply taken the entire cookpot between her hooves and chugged the potion down as I was forced to stare on in heartbreaking horror.

She smacked her lips appreciatively as she lowered the pot to the cluttered table, seeming only to recognize my presence after the brew had been drained down her gullet. She blinked once as she stared at my frustrated pout, and her face twisted in a sheepish grin. Her hooves tapped together in front of her chest as I dragged my good hoof down my face with an exasperated sigh.

“Margarita, I’m truly grateful for the hospitality, but that wasn’t food.” How many ponies would I have to convince that not everything in a bubbling pot was soup? “It was medicine. I’m trying to regain the use of my magic.”

Her eyes widened in realization as she nodded slowly, her mouth silently forming a single word, “Oh.” Suddenly she tensed up and pointed at herself, flinging her hooves before her face violently. She looked to me with expectant and frightened eyes.

Understanding took root in my mind a moment later. Despite having just watched her render hours of taxing exertion moot, I couldn’t suppress a chuckle at her unnecessary anxiety. “No. No, this won’t be anything like the other one. No breathing fire. Just a restorative draught to quicken the healing of my horn.”

She laid her saddlebags on the floor as she tilted her head to the side, then shrugged as she accepted my answer. Taking the seat that Nohta had occupied earlier, she beckoned me to the table and pulled one of the fruits out of her bags.

I had never seen anything quite like it. I stared at the bulbous berry the size of my hoof, and raised an eyebrow in question as I slid back into my chair and pulled out my alchemical tools for another attempt at the potion. “What is that? And where did you get it?”

She smiled warmly even as her own brow mirrored my perplexed features. After procuring her notepad and scribbling a note, she slid the paper to me so that I could read her oddly spelled answer. “Mute Froot. Diddunt yu see my greenhows?” I couldn’t help but wonder if the spelling was a playful pun of self-deprecating nature or the genuine name of the produce.

I held back the question, believing that it might insult her. “Ah… sorry, dear. I must have missed it. I’m not terribly familiar with this… fruit. You grow them?”

A second note was pushed across the table. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her waggling her hooves at me and smiling. “I gro neerly all my froot. Sum veggys too. Urth pone, plus green hoooves. Try it.”

It would have been terribly rude of me to decline her offer. I clutched the massive berry between my hooves, and after my questioning gaze was returned by an encouraging smile and head nod from Margarita, bit into the purple and blue flesh.

Even with a full stomach, it was a monumental struggle to not devour the entirety of the berry as quickly as possible. Truly, the only thing that could have possibly tasted more wonderful was a Sparkle-Cola! My Pipbuck clicked once, alerting me to the ingestion of a single rad, but my concern was lost amidst the flavors of nearly every fruit I could imagine.

“Oh… Oh my! Margarita, this is delicious!”

She was grinning from ear to ear as she scribbled another note and pushed it towards me. “Glad yu like it! I uze thim to make moonshine.”

My eyes shot wide as I balked at her claim. “M-moonshine!? You’d turn these succulent and unoffending fruits into alcohol!? That’s-”

My tirade was cut short by a playful hoof gently prodding my nose. Another note slid across the table. “The rads arr reemoovd by the distillashun prossess. And pones luv booze. It sells bettur than froot. Ezeear to stoar, too. Thats wut I wunt yu to help me with.”

Realization, followed by relief, washed over me. “You want Nohta and I to help you brew alcohol? Well, I believe we can certainly-” I stopped talking as soon as I noticed Margarita shaking her head.

She hastily scribbled another note and gave me a serious look as she hoofed it across the table. “Psyker killed my croo and messed with my hed. Her raydurz shot up my still. I uzed to be respecktid. I uzed to leed the best murcs in this dezurt! I uzed to make booze. Delishus, delishus booze! Now I am a laffingstok. Thanks to Psyker, I am a mursinary that cant evun spell ‘gunn’ rite!”

Her next note was written almost as quickly as the previous one. I could tell by her hard eyes that were it not for her debilitating silence she would probably be shouting her words. “I wunt revinge, and thats why my frehnd will help me. I wunt to be respecktid, and thats why yore sistur will help me. In the corse of a cupple dayz my life got fukked hard! Nohta told me wut happund to the to of yu. I theenk it sownds fuhmillyur. I theenk thats why we shud werk togethur.”

“Margarita…” I sighed, shaking my head as I cleared my thoughts. “I am more than sympathetic to having your life turned upside down in such a short span of time. But just because we’ve both been through monumental tragedies does not mean that-”

She had anticipated my response, and was already hoofing a new note across the table. “If yu help me now, yu will nevur wunt for food, watur, ammo, a cleen bed, or sumpone to shair it with evur again.”

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, surely fusing the only stripes I bore into single bands of pinkish-red underneath my eyes. She took advantage of my non-responsiveness to smirk and rib me further with a new note. “Just not me. Yu are way to proppur and ladeelike for me. I like my gurlz dangeruz. I am flatturd, tho.”

What a salacious accusation! “You… you don’t have to joke about such lewd things!”

Her evil smirk transitioned into a genuine smile, and she proffered one final missive to me across the table. “Nohta sed that yu to mite be lookeeng for help with the raydurz. For sumtheeng like that, yu will wunt sumpone reely gud. I know hoo yu need. She’s not just gud, she’s the best. Fukken crazee sumtimes, but the best murc I know. Help me, and I will put yu in tuch with hur.”

My mind slid off its rails. Could we have actually stumbled across the means to accomplish one of our goals? Good fortune of that magnitude was sorely missing from my life. I read the note twice, double checking to be certain I hadn’t misunderstood, then looked back to Margarita. “Who?”

She smirked at me once again, then leaned over the table and flipped the paper over. In an entirely different but still messy style of mouthwriting was a single question and signature. “You still up for that drink, babe? - Lily Belle.”

Margarita had gone on to assure me that she had already set up a meeting with her friend for later that evening at the local saloon. She was also more than eager to help with the mundane tasks required to make another batch of Mother’s potion, and the second brewing went much smoother than the first with the aid of her nimble hooves.

Soon after we were finished she seemed to be overtaken with an intense buzzing energy, and quickly strode to the table in the back to disassemble, clean, and reassemble her weaponry in a flurry of activity. I made sure to thank her for the help, but she was far too focused on her guns to pay me any heed. Sensing an opportunity to finally get some actual rest, as opposed to the dreadful nightmare-filled-radiation-coma that I had been in for the past few days, I downed the potion and excused myself to one of the offered beds. A curious tingling sensation throughout my entire body prevented me from sleeping overly long, but the several hours of dreamless respite did my aching body wonders.

When I awoke I was immediately aware of a dull fuzziness in my horn, and found that I was just able to lift some of the crumpled up wads of paper that littered the floor. Nohta was still fast asleep, fully garbed on top of the sheets and with one hoof hanging languidly off the side of her bed. Instead of waking her to share in my giddy excitement I draped my own sheets over her and returned to the large foreroom to test my magic against something more cumbersome; like one of the hefty tin cans or agonizingly ponderous empty beer bottles I had seen earlier. I hobbled into the foreroom on three legs to find Margarita huddled over her table of disassembled weaponry.

She grinned widely around the tiny spring in her teeth when she noticed me, waving a forehoof excitedly before slipping the coil into a pistol and taking a swig from a brown bottle at her side. She tapped the top of her head, just above her eyes, and then pointed at me with an inquisitive look upon her face.

I nodded, beaming proudly. “Why yes, I do believe that the potion and some rest have brought a tiny trace of my magical prowess back to me.” I lost the grin, furrowing my brow in concentration as I licked my lips and added, “In fact…”

I concentrated for all I was worth on her bottle of beer, enshrouding it in a faint crimson aura as it rose shakily an inch above the table. She pursed her lips and arched an eyebrow in response before slowly and deliberately plucking the container out of my magical bubble and downing the remaining dregs in one gulp.

I huffed and crossed my forelegs in front of myself, noting with some discomfort the dull ache that remained in my shoulder, and sat down beside her, “Yes, well I was impressed with it. Honestly I’ve never been able to fathom how you non-unicorns could manage to accomplish anything at all without magic.”

Her chest convulsed in silent giggles before she sat back on her haunches, flexing one of her lime-green forelegs to force the bicep to protrude as she waggled her eyebrows in my direction.

I rolled my eyes even as I grinned, “Well, earth pony strength is all well and good if you’re looking to build a shelter or bash in a door, but what about a delicate surgical operation? How are you going to avoid contamination if you’ve got to hold a scalpel with your teeth?”

She frowned and scratched at her chin for a moment, apparently deep in thought. Then she grinned smugly and dug a bottle of golden liquid out of her packs. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I read the label.

“Tequila? Alcohol!?” I held my hoof against my forehead as I shook my head, forcing myself to stretch out my muscles in an attempt to relieve the simple soreness that lingered from my wound. “Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing.” I cocked my head to the side as I tried to steer the conversation in a less frivolous direction. “Speaking of drinks, dear, why are we meeting in the saloon? Surely she could have just come here instead.”

Margarita’s face fell as she silently sighed. She bit her lip as she shook her head in morose pain. I quickly realized that this was a touchy subject.

“Oh, oh I’m sorry! Um…” I searched for a way to backtrack past the minefield I had inadvertently stepped into, but only managed to scan the room as an uncomfortable lull in the conversation dragged out between us. I caved a moment later, pointing a hoof towards the bathroom as I smiled awkwardly. “I’ll um, I’ll just be taking a quick bath, then…” She nodded pensively, and resumed her work with the pistol.

I escaped into the tiled room, my gaze instantly drawn to my three disheveled reflections in the cracked mirror above the sink. Goddess, I was a sight! The mostly-healed wound in my shoulder was still raw and red, and my mane was nothing more than a disconcerting mess. Ugly slash marks danced along my back from the broken glass in Coltsville, and an angry little red scar raced along my leg just above my Pipbuck. And the bloodstains! It seemed as if my chest, legs, muzzle, and back had been used as foal’s hoof-painting canvas! Faded pink blobs discolored my white coat with a series of misshapen splotches. I was sorely in need of a good bath, and eagerly anticipated the simple pleasure of being clean.

I tested my magic again, but was unable to twist the rusty knob far enough to produce any hot water. Sighing in resignation, I resorted to using my hooves; this time managing to draw a bath and plug up the drain in the clawed tub. I must admit to having a moment’s trepidation to steeping myself in the irradiated water, but the clicking of my Pipbuck was so slow and irregular that my concerns were soon lost amidst the joyous exultations of my sore body. I reasoned that a simple hoof-full of rads was an acceptable price to pay to feel the water’s warm caress against my dirty skin, stiff muscles, and bedraggled coat. I soaked languidly in the still water, my mane and tail floating lazily to the surface as I allowed the aches and pains of the past weeks to wash away with the accumulated dirt, grime, and blood that the doctor had missed.

Just as I was thinking of rising from the bath, Nohta burst into my impromptu sanctum. “Hey Sis.”

My eyes shot wide as I hurried to cover myself with my hooves, spilling copious amounts of water upon the cracked porcelain floor. “Gah! Nohta! I’m indecent!”

She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, ignoring my complaints as she strode to the side of the tub. “I just talked to Margie, something’s got her upset.” She glanced back at the still open door behind her before locking her eyes with my own in a questioning gaze. “She said something about you going to the saloon to talk to somepony?”

My eyes pleaded with her past my wet mane. “Nohta! Avert your eyes this instant! And shut the door already!”

She scoffed at my self-consciousness, rolling her eyes dismissively. “Seriously? It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before. I mean come on… this is no big deal.”

My voice rose to an uncomfortable pitch as I shrieked. “Not while I’m soaking wet and still in the bathtub, you haven’t! There is a difference!”

She snorted derisively as her voice reached that perfectly antagonizing pitch. “Pfft. How are you embarrassed by this? I mean, you were the Stable’s… uh… what was the term you used?” Nohta grinned mockingly as she continued to torment me with her exasperating tone. “Lady-doctor?”

My embarrassment and ire finally bubbled over, lending a bit more power to my horn. I groaned in frustration, scrunching up my face in concentration while I scooped up one of the fluffy white towels beside the tub in my magic to fling it over my sister’s face.

She gasped underneath her new fluffy veil and pranced in place. “Hey! You got your magic back! Sweet!” Her voice held its uniquely infuriating tone while she barraged me with rapid-fire questions and her hooves splashed water in every possible direction. “Can you hold your pistol yet? What about your spell? How’s your shoulder? Did you fix yourself up yet?”

Much to my embarrassment, Margarita poked her head through the doorway to see what all the commotion was. I was trying my very best to slide underneath the water and hide while Margarita gingerly gripped the end of Nohta’s tail in her smiling mouth and tugged, sliding my sister’s near-frictionless hooves across the wet tile.

Nohta continued to prattle on as Margarita manoeuvred her through the doorway. “How’d you do it? Did you use a potion? Did it taste bad? Are you going on a date? Should I go too?” Nohta’s hoof clutched at the door in a desperate bid to stall her forced removal from the bathroom, but only succeeded in nearly swinging the door closed as she let out one final pearl of wisdom. “Remember, Sis! Don’t let him kiss you until the third date!”

A crimson cloud just barely pushed the door shut and locked it in place. I huffed indignantly as I clambered out of the tub and wrapped myself in towels. There was a mechanical clicking at the lock a few seconds later, and Nohta burst back into the room, a huge smug grin plastered across her features.

“Did you really think that would work against me?” She lost the grin while I was busy pursing my lips and attempting to restrain myself from shoving her out of the bathroom with my hooves. She cocked her head to the side before asking in an anxious voice, “Seriously though. Are you going to the saloon? Do you think you’ll be safe going alone? I can come too, if you want. Maybe we can get Margie to go with us. That might cheer her up a little.”

I let my frustrations out with one final sigh and eye-roll, then thought back to how Margarita had reacted to my suggestion that her friend come to the MMMM Headquarters and shook my head lightly. “No… I… I think that Margarita might prefer to stay here.”

My sister’s expression was worried and tense. She glanced back at the door before asking tentatively, “You… you want me to go with you?”

She was worried about her new friend. She deserved the time to bond with her... I shook my head and smiled confidently, “It’s only a trip to the saloon, Nohta. And I’m just going to discuss business. I’ll be safe on my own for a couple of hours.” I nodded towards the door, “Stay here with her. I’ll be fine.”

Nohta chewed that over for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright, but you better take your guns.”

My face contorted with my chagrinned expression. “I’m afraid the shotgun might be beyond my abilities as of yet. And I’ve only got the barest amount of charge left in my pistol.”

Her eyes lit up in an eager smile. “I can help with that, gimme a sec.” She spun out of the room and trotted towards Margarita’s table. “Hey Margie!”

I finished drying myself off and exited the bathroom while Nohta was busy conversing with our host. After a quick sojourn back to the bedrooms to rifle through my things, I strapped my little pistol to my right foreleg and tested its weight in my magic. It was still a struggle to lift the weapon up to eye level, but Mother’s potion was working wonderfully. My lips formed a small smirk as I squinted and looked down the sights. Just a few more days, I told myself, and my magic would be back to normal.

I met the two of them in the large foreroom after I had slipped into my saddlebags. Nohta had convinced Margarita to part with two full cells for my pistol. I loaded a fresh one into the device, thanked Margarita for her overwhelming hospitality, and was just about to leave when my eyes passed over the wooden bucket on the far end of the table.

I put on my best smile as I tapped my hooves together sheepishly. “Margarita, darling, could I hope to convince you to part with, oh… two or three of those grenades?”

Margarita’s only response was to cease working on her weapons and arch an eyebrow in my direction; as if I had just committed some horrendous faux-pas. She clearly didn’t believe that I was fully capable of using one of the tantalizing apple-shaped explosives to wonderfully devastating effect.

I tried again, remembering that sometimes you just have to ask for what you want. “Nohta can certainly vouch for how beneficial they’ve proven for us in the past. My being properly armed would most assuredly put her mind at ease, and what better to scare off any potential attackers than… ah… “ I felt my eyes drift to the bushel before I realized that I was no longer speaking. With a start, I quickly finished my sentence and grinned widely at Margarita. “Err… explosive weaponry?”

Margarita turned to Nohta, her expression more questioning than doubtful. My sister simply shrugged, “She’s got a point. And she’s used ‘em before. She won’t blow herself up or anything.”

Margarita scrutinized me carefully for a long moment. I was suddenly beset by flashbacks of begging my parents to allow me just one more book before bedtime. Honestly, it’s not like any of the tales of Luna’s exploits took very long to read. Only an hour or two, really…

She stared intensely into my pleading eyes as she reached a lime-colored hoof to the bucket and passed a single grenade across the table.

I grasped the explosive in my magic and gently laid it in my packs while my sister chuckled behind a hoof. I chose to ignore Nohta’s smug expression. “Thank you, Margarita.” One grenade was better than no grenades, and if push really came to shove then at least I wouldn’t be without an ace up my proverbial sleeve.

The night air was still warm when I exited MMMM Headquarters and stepped onto the broken-asphalt and dirt roads of Mareon. The town had a distinct air of liveliness about it that I had overlooked in my previous excursions. Wandering through the desert for days on end had granted me an appreciation for just how desolate and barren the wasteland was.

Ponies of all colors meandered about in the semi-darkness, most of them wearing simple clothing or light leather barding. Garbed only in my Pipbuck, pistol holster, and saddlebags, I felt naked in comparison. It wasn’t until I saw several buff earth stallions and white-coated unicorn mares in even less adornment than I standing on the street corner by the saloon that I relaxed. It was short lived.

“Hey good-lookin’, want some company? Only fifty caps.” My eyes widened at the stallion’s ah… offer... before I ducked my head and quickened my pace to the saloon.

In the descending darkness, I noticed for the first time the strings of Hearth’s Warming lights suspended over the streets. They converged on the saloon and its brightly lit neon sign depicting a duo of cartoonish cacti with smiling, inebriated faces and liquor bottles. I had arrived at The Prickly Pair Saloon.

I could hear music and voices coming from within the bar as I neared the entrance. The building was one of the few pre-war structures in the town. Its roof still had most of its shingles, and the majority of the windows were still in place, even if they were rather dirty and sporting some severe cracking. Its outer walls were plastered with old and fading recruitment posters from before the war displaying buxom mares with bedroom-eyes and long, flowing manes posing on artillery barrels, their military outfits looking just slightly too small. The shutter-style doors swung open with ease as I entered a tavern far more lively than I had encountered during my first trip to Mareon.

The sound of clinking glasses and bottles cut through the din of a night of good cheer as I made my way into the establishment and paused at the entrance to take in my surroundings. The saloon was bathed in the gentle glow of dusty overhead lights whose illumination diffused into a haze of cigarette smoke that hovered over everypony’s heads. All around me were tables of drunken, laughing ponies being waited on by serving mares balancing trays of drinks on their backs. In one of the far corners a hoof-full of ponies were huddled over a pile of caps, each of them casting furtive glances at the others as they guarded the playing cards held in their hooves. A large, mustachioed stallion with a dapper hat and vest was busy pouring drinks behind a large wooden bar, his immediate patrons swaying softly on their stools.

Not all of the patrons were joining in the festivities, however. A grey stallion with a crossed hammer and screwdriver for a cutie mark was busy fiddling with the dials on the bar’s old-timey jukebox radio. “Oh for the love of... What the hell is wrong with this thing now? I just got it working again!” His hoof slammed ineffectually against the device’s heavy frame, eliciting only a faint crackling of static snow.

An enormous buck encased head-to-tail in heavy metal barding thudded his hoof repeatedly against his helmeted head with a series of resounding clangs. “Bah, shut up already! You’ll just have to get drunk without your DJ for one evening you little cuss.”

The grey stallion kept banging on the radio, his voice as perplexed as his face. “But, but... DJ-Pon3 was coming in fine up until just a minute ago!”

The armor-clad stallion threw a hoof in the air and called to a serving mare with a long, flowing mane. “Hey Willow, can I get a double to drown out ‘Mr. Whiney’ over here?”

I stepped further into the saloon, stoically ignoring the looks I was getting from the stallions at the bar, and scanned the sea of reds, blacks, browns, and yellows for my quarry. A flash of indigo feathers drew my attention to an isolated corner, and I navigated the throng of cheerful inebriates to find the mare sitting alone at a darkened table. The wild mess that was her silvery-white mane was dangling over a long lever-action rifle with a circled cross of beads strapped to its stock. She rubbed a cloth along the barrel, completely absorbed in her ministrations and seemingly oblivious to the world around her. Every so often one of her hooves would leave the rifle to pluck a lit cigarette from an ashtray, bringing the small white cylinder to her muzzle.

I cleared my throat as I approached her, and spoke loudly and clearly above the din of the saloon. “Ahem. Lily, I presume?”

Her left ear twitched, making it appear as if the tiny animal bone that was pierced through it were bobbing up and down in agitation. She spoke to herself with just the slightest hint of irritation. “Not now, Grumpy, I’m waiting on some-” She glanced up, and her blood-red eyes rose to meet my own before the black whorls and curves along the left side of her face rippled as her visage twisted into an exceedingly cocky smirk.

“Hey Doc, how ya doin? Take a seat..." She didn't wait for my answer, opting instead to kick out a chair in front of me. "...we got a lot to talk about.” She took a long drag off of her cigarette, causing the tip to burn brightly as tiny tendrils of smoke snaked lazily away from the lit tobacco. She lifted her head and exhaled a dissipating plume into the swirling smoke above our heads to collude with the cloudy haze that dominated the interior of the tavern. Sighing contentedly, she smirked at me, “Nothing like a smoke when you’re half lit, huh? You want one?” She proffered the small red and white box to me with a questioning and lazy smile.

“Err, no thank you.” I sat in the chair opposite her, trying to keep from touching any of the table’s filthy surface as I lay my saddlebags on the floor. “I don’t smoke.”

“Heh, suit yourself.” She lightly tossed the small box onto the table in front of her and leaned into her chair, throwing a hoof over its back and gazing at my uncomfortable posture. “You want a drink through, right? I still owe you one for that raider.” Without waiting for my response, she flared a wing to her side and, with a beckoning gesture of indigo feathers, called over one of the serving mares. “Sequoia!”

An earthy-red mare with a bushy, dark-green mane and tail sauntered over to us, full of smiles. She winked at me even as she addressed the pegasus by name. “Hey there, Lily. You ready for another round?”

The waitress continued to grin in my direction as Lily spoke up, “Actually Sequoia, my friend here would like a drink. On me.”

“Oh? Your friend, huh?” She whipped her bushy green tail behind her playfully while she smiled warmly. “What’ll it be sweetie? We got beer and booze aplenty. Anythin’ to whet your whistle and take the edge off!”

“Oh, er… I um, I don’t really have a taste for alcohol either,” I admitted with a sheepish grin. If only Lily had waited for my response, perhaps I could have spared the three of us this awkward feeling.

The pegasus was having none of that. “Pfft, nonsense!” Lily waved a hoof in my direction. “Go nuts, Doc. Anything you want. I insist.”

Well… surely just one drink couldn’t hurt, right? And perhaps if I went ahead and placed an order, the serving mare would stop staring at me like that… My thoughts drifted back to the seedy publication that my sister and I had discovered in the coyote cave. “Um, in that case, there is one thing I’ve been interested in trying. Do you have any Sparkle-Cola Frost?”

Lily nearly choked on her own bottle, before regaining control and swallowing the liquid. She flapped her wings wildly, beating them against the back of her chair as she chuckled, “Oh! Oh shit… That’s a good one!”

Sequoia forced her pursing lips into a polite grin. I was left with the distinct feeling that she was attempting to good-naturedly humor my request. “Sorry dear, we’re out of that. If you’d like something sweet, though, I can recommend a few ciders, or maybe a margarita.” She glanced at the tittering form of the pegasus before continuing, “Or I could whip up a Rum and Sparkle, if that’s more your thing.”

I blinked, feeling quite uncomfortable that I had been put on the spot in such a manner. My confusion and curiosity formed my response before I could rein them in. “What’s a… cider?”

Lily let out a great guffaw and slammed a hoof against the table. “That’s the ticket! Bring her a cider, Sequoia! Everypony likes cider! She just doesn’t know it yet!”

Sequoia nodded primly and sashayed away from the table. Despite her gracious demeanor and the din of conversation from the rest of the saloon’s inhabitants I was just able to hear her mutter under her breath, “Fucking stable-dwellers… I swear…”

I directed my attention to the pegasus opposite me. As my brow furrowed in discomfort, I couldn’t help but make an admission. “I must say, I feel a little out of my element in this establishment.”

Her chuckling died off as she gazed across the table with a knowing grin, “Ya. I figured you might.” She inhaled from her cigarette again as her eyes stayed locked with my own. I was just about to turn away from the embarrassment of her scrutiny when she spoke again, “Margie and I had a nice little chat about you, you know.”

What? She couldn’t mean… No, surely she didn’t. My eyes darted to the side as I quickly checked to see if anypony was listening in on our conversation. A nervous hoof rose to brush my mane aside. “Oh? Did you?”

She nodded slowly, and lightly tapped the black swirls on her cheek. “Folks tend to treat you a little differently once they see the ink.” Taking up her rifle in her hooves, she leaned back to stand it against the wall behind her next to a pair of bulging saddlebags. When she turned back to me, her voice was low and conspiratorial. “Isn’t that right, miss tribal-pony?”

My lips parted as my eyes shot wide in realization. Goddess, she knew. She knew because Margarita had told her. I had been a fool to trust the mercenary! I had thought that she was a friend! Didn’t she know how dangerous that information was? I didn’t even want to imagine what Mareon would do to Nohta if the town discovered what we were! I set my jaw and grit my teeth to stare her down, my entire body tensing while I struggled to figure out what to do.

I was mere moments away from abandoning the conversation completely when Lily leaned across the table and glanced in the general direction of the rest of the saloon. Her scarlet eyes were… Angry? Hurt? Regretful? I couldn’t quite place them. She whispered evenly in a calm voice. “They treat me like an outsider too, no matter how much I try to help them.” Grinding the tip of her cigarette into her ashtray, she continued in a calm whisper, “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell anypony. Where you came from is your business, and I’m not about to cause trouble on account of something I ain't got a problem with in the first place.”

Where I came from? That wasn’t really the part that worried me. I had to be sure. I had to be absolutely positive. Forcing myself to look into those blood-red eyes, I asked with bated breath, “Exactly how much did Margarita tell you?”

She grinned knowingly as her voice became low and husky. She continued to whisper across the table as her eyes pierced my own. “She told me enough to let me figure out exactly why you have those cute little pink stripes on your face, sugar.”

I stammered as my mind froze in fear. I had to think of something! “I… She…”

Leaning back, she resumed speaking at a normal volume. “Don’t worry about it, babe. Like I said, I ain’t about to go raising a ruckus, or a fracas, or whatever the damned thing is, just to stir up trouble.” She downed the remnants of her bottle, and gave me a genuinely warm smile. “I’ve been around. I know better than to distrust someone just because they ain’t…” She tilted her empty bottle in my direction, shrugging apologetically. “...you know. And besides, you’re a doctor. You can’t be all that bad if you’re trying to keep folks alive out here.”

My mind was racing, attempting to make sense of just how much of a predicament I was in. Before I could stop myself I blurted out, “What? What does my medical skill have to do with anything?”

She closed her eyes and snorted lightly as she chuckled to herself, “Let’s just say that in my line of work you tend to live longer if you buddy up with the folks who know how to pull the bullets out.”

As I was ruminating over the meaning of her words, Sequoia arrived with two bottles balanced on a discolored metal tray upon her back. With the deftness reserved for those members of the equus genus bereft of magic, the earth pony brought the tray off her back and placed the bottles before Lily and myself. “Another beer and a cider. Both on your tab, Lily.”

As Sequoia trotted off to wait on another table, Lily grasped her new beverage and took a swig, flashing what I was quickly beginning to assume was her default, arrogant grin as she set the bottle back on the table. She glanced at the bottle of cider sitting in front of me. “You just gonna let it get warm, sweet-cheeks?”

My lips pursed as I fought down the urge to berate her for the verbal slight. “Please don’t call me that.”

She raised her hooves in the air before her, giggling and shaking her head. “Right, right, my bad. You didn’t like that last time, either.” She reached for the box of cigarettes on the table and extracted one with a wing. With a quick glance at the still-raw patch of skin on my shoulder, she winced and asked me, “So how’s this shit-hole of a desert been treating you since your last trip to Mareon?”

I opened my mouth to respond, only for the memories of my recent past to flood my mind all at once. My eyes roamed the table, searching for an anchor before I finally settled on the bottle before me and rested my Pipbuck upon the table beside it. The sore wound flared with an insistent twinge, causing my voice to shake with my answer, “Terribly. It’s been… simply awful.” I fought the tears that were threatening to well in my eyes back and locked my gaze with hers. Swallowing my pride, I forged forward. “That’s… that’s part of the reason why I came here.”

She arched an eyebrow inquisitively but said nothing, opting instead to reach a hoof behind her ear and into her mane to procure a small steel box. In a single fluid motion she struck the contraption against her flank, producing a flickering flame from the lighter. She lit her cigarette and inhaled deeply before nodding sagely, the smoke billowing out of her nostrils in hazy plumes while her pierced ear twitched. “Yep… shoulda known. Mares like you don’t last long out here.”

I probably should have let it slide, but her arrogance was beginning to irk me. How dare she presume to write me off as some weakling so quickly! My brow furrowed as my other hoof rose to the table; all the better to brace myself as I very nearly hissed at her. “And what, precisely, do you mean by that?”

She frowned forlornly, meeting my glare head on. “Sweetheart, look at yourself. It takes a special kind of stupid to prance about like you’re doing.” I balked at that, arching an eyebrow in indignation while she continued, “You’re fucking gorgeous, you obviously just got hurt pretty badly, probably can’t run for shit right now, you don’t have a shred of barding on your body, you just walked through the streets of Mareon alone… at night…” Lily set me with a severe stare as she allowed those words to sink in. “…and your only weapon is a… a…” She lost her train of thought just as my mind finally caught up to the appalling implication being made. She, however, was far too busy blinking in surprise at my pistol to notice the mix of horror and revulsion that played across my face.

Lily stuck a hoof over the table, questioning me as she gawked in adoration. “Is that a Trottz 1000? It is, isn’t it? Holy shit, I haven’t seen one of those in years! I thought you were just using one of those piece of shit AMP7s or something.” She smiled at me with a bit more warmth and respect in her voice, “Alright, I take it back. You’ve at least got a decent weapon.” I was still recovering from the terrifying images she had placed in my mind. My only response was to attempt to swallow back my fear as I held my curling tail in my lap.

She tapped the table with a hoof, drawing my attention back to her as her ear twitched. “You alright, babe? You look kinda nervous.” She glanced at the bottle of cider, smirking once more. “Now, I know that I do have that effect on ponies, but a drink might calm you down.”

My hooves brushed over my tail nervously as I avoided her gaze. “I...I’m not so sure if drinking is a good idea right now. Not after what you just said.”

She snorted, taking a long pull from her beverage followed by an equally long drag from her cigarette. The smirk plastered across her face radiated confidence as she boldly declared, “Ain’t nothin’ bad gonna happen to you while I’m around, sugar.” Whenever my anxious expression conveyed my lack of faith in her statement, she leaned across the table and whispered, “Look, Margie sent you to me right? You trust her, right? She must have told you what I am.”

I nodded slowly, recalling the last note that Margarita had hoofed to me before I went to sleep. “She said that you’re a mercenary named Lily Belle.”

She rose quickly from the chair, holding a hoof to her puffed out chest and flaring her wings wide as she emphatically proclaimed, “The one and only!” Several heads turned at nearby tables before Lily flapped her wings and sat back down to drink more of her beer. Setting the bottle back upon the table, she winked at me and exclaimed, “I’m the best merc in this Spirits-forsaken town! Actually, scratch that, I’m the best fucking merc in Equestria!” Well, she certainly didn’t lack for confidence. Or bravado, for that matter.

A playfully mocking feminine chuckle behind my back alerted me to the passing presence of our serving mare. “I bet that Talon company might disagree with you on that, sweetheart.”

Lily rolled her eyes as she grumbled, “Those honorless turkeys think they’re special just because they’ve got equipment and numbers, Sequoia! No one that guns down unarmed ponies or innocent trading caravans just because it’s written on a piece of paper deserves to call themselves a merc.” She crossed her hooves in front of herself and directed her hard eyes at me. “Those griffins are nothing more than raiders with wings loyal to a fucking slaver with loads of caps to pay ‘em off.”

My ears perked up as I stared, dumbfounded, at the blue mare. It… it had to have been a coincidence. I threw up a silent prayer to the Goddess, asking her if the pegasus’ word choice was a sign. “Griffins? Slavers? Raiders?” My good hoof rose to the table’s surface as I stared at her, not even bothering to conceal my excitement. “You know of them?”

Her face scrunched in displeasure, as if she were smelling something utterly foul. “Duh. ‘Course I do. And right now I got problems with all three.”

My jaw clenched as I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply. One final preparatory breath to ease my racing heart before I would plunge myself headfirst into the pool at my hooves. But rather than calming my heart, the pause only gave it time to remember.

The dim coals in my breast flickered and sparked, fanned to life by exuberant optimism and dread desire. The ever present smell of tobacco smoke in the saloon transformed into the reeking stench of death that had permeated my stable. The clinking glasses and cheers of drunken frivolity all around me echoed the agonized screams calling for my Father and I by name. I stared into the scarlet irises gazing across the table in my direction, and I saw the blood of my friends splattered across both rocky soil and metal walls.

But the look in those eyes promised a different fate. A new outcome. Her stare didn’t speak of the blood that had been spilt, but of blood that would. By the moon’s cool glow I had found my mercenary; my scalpel. All that was left to do was locate the tumor and make my incision.

That familiar flame begged for kindling. The searing need for justice was to me a comfortably warm blaze in the dead of night. I needed only to submit to the will of my heart, and in so doing stoke the pyre of my vengeance.

I placed my other hoof on the table, ignoring the paltry pain that flared in my shoulder as my muscles tensed, and leaned forward to speak through grit teeth. “As do I.”

Her eyes widened at the sheer hatred in my voice, only to narrow a moment later as her trademark smirk slowly overtook her features. I suddenly realized that her smug grin no longer seemed to trouble me at all.

Lily took her bottle between her hooves as her husky voice cooed maliciously. “Well now… Looks like we have a lot to talk about, Doc.”

A crimson glow erupted from my horn, encasing my cider in a bubble the same violent shade of red that stared back at me across the table. I raised the bottle to my lips as I met her hard gaze with my own. “Yes. We do. And you may call me Candy.”

Author's Notes:

This chapter is rather long, and in an attempt to cater to the requests of some of my readers I have decided to split Chapter Six into two parts for the version released on this website. Based on any further feedback regarding this, I may be toying around with this method for future chapters. We'll just have to play this one by ear, I suppose.