They’d always beaten the lessons learned in this stage of the fight into our heads in battle school. The final stage was always the most dangerous, they’d said. You were tired, adrenaline was flushing out of your system, and everyone gets a tendency to be caught up in what had just happened, that they lose track of what still needs to be done.

It’s all too easy to fall prey to a counter attack, or in more industrious times, an artillery strike. Not an asset I anticipated Red Eye having, but it was quite clear that the tech still existed - I was willing to bet the guns of Neighson were for more than just show, and it set the precedent for expecting the unexpected. Who knew what trump card Red Eye might be holding back at this stage?

In our case, sitting still would mean a miserably cold night at best, and at worst, would leave us open to whatever force those two survivors ended up getting in contact with.

On top of that, thoughts of the quick reaction force that had caught us after the crash were more than an idle concern. Looking back, and comparing that group to what we’d just faced… there was no competition. In our state, they’d wipe the floor with us if they caught us.

The game was still on. There were matters that needed attending to, but at the forefront of my mind was the nagging desire to move on, to get things back on track, to get away from here.

We’d spent enough time dealing with this group, and it was time to leave.

Tailwind and I gave a quick flap back to where the mercenary’s body lay. Fade was there, and if I didn’t know him, I’d have thought he was performing last rites on the griffon – instead, he was merely looting the body, having already strapped the massive knife at his side (if the weapon stretching the length of my entire leg could still be termed such). I touched down just as he laid his claws on the dead griffon’s carbine. Without preamble, I stated “That’s mine, Fade.”

Fade stopped what he was doing, letting the statement hang in the air for a moment before turning and hooking a thumb back towards the corpse. “Him?” He asked, incredulous, “I’m not certain why you’d want a corpse, but I doubt the reasons would be acceptable in the wastes, let alone your Enclave. Also, I’d like to remind you that the Talon is a he, and not a thing despite being dead. We do have genders, thank you very much.”

Cocking my head to the side and blinking, it seemed my (rather abrupt) statement had led to a degree of confusion. “I mean the gun, Fade. I’ve taken all day trying to kill this bastard; I’m taking what I want of his stuff.” Finishing with a nod, I was quite content with my logic. It was, admittedly, based on assumptions I’d made regarding wasteland “etiquette” on such things. To accentuate my point, I gestured with a hoof at the various weapons adorning his body – rifle, light machinegun, multiple pistols and a skies damn sword strapped, slung, holstered and sheathed on his body – not to mention the Anti-material rifle resting on the ground beside him. “Or do you seriously not have enough at this point? I mean, there’s being prepared, and then there’s whatever this is.”

The griffon turned an eye to the small armoury adorning his body and made a scornful “tsk” noise with his beak. “This, my dear,” Fade replied as he turned back to us, raising a talon skyward, “Is what the Wastes call economics. You can’t get something for nothing and weapons go for a premium - one that only grows the farther from population centres you get.” He gestured expansively, allowing his weaponry to hang freely, “While it might look excessive, what I’m carrying here is a fair bargaining chip should we need it.”

Fade tossed a nod back, towards the mercenary and his rifle, “As for first pick; there is no such thing down here. Unless you’re a raider boss or something similar, finder’s rule goes. You passed off the take so it was fair claim. On top of that, how would you even use it? The gun was built for a creature with digits, as are all griffon-built arms… Unless you intend to roll about in some Taint and pray your flesh doesn’t melt off, I fail to see how you would operate it.”

I gave off a subvocal growl when he insisted that going to help Tailwind constituted passing off the right to a perfectly good firearm, potentially suited perfectly to how I fought – relatively small, possibly easy enough to control once it was mounted to a battlesaddle; but with enough punch to reliably cut through armour at least as good as my own. In all, a solid weapon.

As he finished his explication on Wasteland Economics, I saw an opening and went for it. “Aha, but I’ve got a battlesaddle, with more to be salvaged from the combat earlier. The SMG I had when we met didn’t even have a grip, but it could still be mounted and fired. We could do the same with that carbine, easily enough.” Pausing a moment, I amended, “Well, Bernard could, anyways.” With a shake of my head, I returned to the topic at hoof. “At any rate, yes I can find a use for it. May I have it, Fade?”

Fade shifted his weight and airily waved my argument off with a taloned hand. “I’ll concede that you could mount and utilize the gun. However, as I stated this is a matter of economics; your having a use for it doesn’t say what’s in the trade for me.”

Well, we’re on to the negotiation stage. I suppose that’s progress… maybe I can get something out of this.

Sauntering towards the griffon, I cockily swayed my hips and batted my eyes in his direction. “See anything you like?” I asked huskily.

Now, I wasn’t really expecting the tactic to work, but I was rather low on bargaining material at the time. “Material” in the tangible sense – most of the sellable kit had been sold back in Neighson to get us food, ammo, medical supplies and such.

His unimpressed look was all I needed to conclude that line of reasoning wouldn’t fly. I dug deep, thinking of everything I had available – and for that matter, anything I was somewhat likely to come across.

Finally, I decided.

“I’ll get you a hat,” I started, putting on my most sincere smile, “A fancy hat…?”

In hindsight, Fade had never been particularly vulnerable to cajoling.

“What?” the griffon replied as if offended, straightening the slightly askewed fur covering his head, “You think there’s something wrong with what I’ve got? I’ll have you know I pulled this out of an abandoned military outpost! It’s in near perfect condition!”

That’s what it’s supposed to look like? Everfree winds, that poor fashion accessory…

Seeing my bargaining position rapidly slipping away from me, I thought as hard and as… abstractly as I could. What would Fade actually want?

I had an idea.

“I will find you a thing, Fade,” I stated with conviction. “I don’t know what it is yet, but when I see it I’ll know. There won’t be another thing like it, unlike that carbine there. What’cha say to that?”

The possibilities running through Fade’s mind were positively writ across his face, as his hands idly tied themselves in knots. I caught a sense of delight dancing through those constantly shifting eyes of his. He clamped down, focusing on me again. “A thing, you say?” He replied, “Sounds awfully vague. How can I be sure you’ll actually follow through or it’ll be of equal value? Will it be big? Small? Shiny? You’ve left a lot of questions here.” He leaned forwards. “You’ll be indebted; are you sure you want to deal with that?”

This was the one, I thought – but I had to play it up. To sink the bait, as it were.

I gave him a soft smile, “Oh, I’ll pay. But you’re gonna have to stick around ‘til I do. And no mistake, it might be hard, but on my honour as a fellow flier, I will make certain to get you a thing. Not necessarily a big thing, nor a small thing, but a remarkable thing.”

The whole argument was so much less logical than I’d ever argued before, but I could see what looked like the beginnings of acceptance in his body language. I let him wait, not offering any more, simply letting the offer sit there, tempting in a way I couldn’t empathise with, but was perfectly willing to exploit. Finally, Fade raised a talon in a conciliatory fashion and began to speak, “Well, the offer is far less solid than I would usually go for, very few would accept a promise as payment in the Wasteland, but I’m willing to go along with it as I can make sure you follow through on it. It’s also probably in my best interest that you have something more powerful than your bugzapper when we get into another scuffle.” He took a breath just as I held my own, optimistically.

“However.”

Of course there’s a condition. There was always a condition.

“I will accept with one additional term; that you assist me in laying our Talon friend to rest. We might have been on opposite sides, but I would be remiss to not see him properly interred.” He fixed me with a level stare and offered an open talon, “Do we have an agreement?”

His request surprised me, causing my wings to give a soft flutter. Glancing at the corpse, I gave a soft sigh. He’d pissed me off, he’d hurt Tailwind… but at the end of the day, he’d fought for his own cause, his own beliefs… just as I had. “Agreed,” I nodded my assent to the conditions, turning back to Fade, “I’ll lend a hoof.” I reached forwards with a forehoof, letting his talon clasp around it. I knew he’d be gentle, but I guess there was simply a degree of trust inherent to a griffon-pony handshake in the first place. “What sort of last rites were you thinking of?”

Fade seemed momentarily taken aback by my acceptance. Coming to terms with my response, he gave a terse single shake of my hoof, taking deliberate care with the talons as he did. “Nothing fancy or overly involved,” He replied, glancing over at the mercenary, “I want to get him up on top of one of these boulders, give him a sky burial. There’s… a lack of birds, not to mention sky for that matter, but it’ll have to do.” Stepping to it, he stepped over to the corpse and shifted the body so he could lift his end. “I’ll go from the shoulders if you’ll take his legs. Do mind the wings also, liable to be a bit loose at this point...”

Following Fade’s lead, we set to picking up the corpse and moving him to the top of the boulder. The whole operation was… surreal. I’d now participated in one more ritual for the dead. It wasn’t particularly involved, there wasn’t anything special said or done… but there was a certain reverence, something I can’t quite put words to about the whole scene. Not the least of which was the oddity that was Fade seeming to care for the dead… though I suppose him caring more for his own kind shouldn’t have surprised me.

At any rate, between Fade, Tailwind and myself, the task was completed easily enough. Once we’d lifted him onto the boulder, Fade took a moment to compose the corpse - folding his talons atop his chest, and straightening out his posture. Taking a step back to appraise his work, he ultimately let out a small sigh.

Tailwind stepped up beside him. “Pardon me for saying, Fade, but I wouldn’t have expected something like this from you.”

Fade reached up to remove his hat, raking the claws of his opposite hand through his crest briefly before replying, “Kin is kin. We honour our own, regardless of side.” Pausing a moment as if to think, he added, “Not exactly many of us around. If we don’t do things such as this for each other, who will?” He then replaced his headdress without further explanation.

Taking that in for a moment, Tailwind seemed unsatisfied with the answer. It didn’t explain the side of things that was Fade, and his very… unique personality. In the end, she turned away, unwilling to press the issue.

Fade brushed away any lingering snow from his person, then turned to Tailwind and I. “Well then, should we not be getting back before the others start to worry?”

By the time we returned, the sun was down. Dropping temperatures brought about an increase in the winds, which had been threatening to do exactly that since earlier in the day. The falling snow had continued, but the gale whipped it against our faces and sapped heat from any tears in our barding - in particular my injured shoulder and Tailwind’s foreleg. Flight expedited our return, but it was clear that by the time we were ready to move out with the others, we’d be ground-bound like everyone else.

Gliding back, we made our approach as obvious as we could, coming in slow and shallow. After the day we’d had, getting shot by our own seemed like the ultimate bad joke.

Below, we could see Ebb continuing to plug away at the grave while Crafter dutifully watched her. Across from them, Frostfire was still being an obvious sentinel over her comrades, though I suppose we could be grateful for the degree of overwatch she was granting - if anyone were to shoot at us, they’d probably go for her first. Finally, Bernard was more difficult to spot than the others - but as we came in on approach, he made his presence known by leaning out of cover behind one of the small knots of trees.

I settled in to land beside Crafter, descending and eventually touching down at a quick trot. As I came up next to him, I casually asked, “Did we miss anything good?”

It hadn’t been my intent to spook him, but whatever thoughts had occupied him, they had apparently been neither keeping an eye on Ebb (who, incidentally, continued to work regardless), nor watching for our approach. I swear he jumped a foot into the air, frantically fumbling with whatever radio station he’d managed to pick up on his pipbuck, shutting it off and making an attempt at monitoring the mare in what was steadily becoming a shallow grave. “Uh- um, nope!” He replied, “She hasn’t run. See?” He pointed towards Ebb.

She flashed me an unamused glare, probably warranted, before returning to work, using her magic to blast another piece of frozen dirt into tiny earthen fragments.

“Excellent,” I replied easily, brushing past describing what went down on our little expedition. “We’ll see what Fade has planned for the, ah, hole, then get the hell out of here.” As I finished, I’d already started cantering towards Bernard without waiting for a reply.

The older stallion was standing off to one side, using a tree for cover from the wind and watching out into the deepening gloom. A ground sheet had been laid out near him, with the weapons, food and equipment taken from the dead mostly organized upon it. Even still, snow was beginning to accumulate on the gear such that it would need to be cleared away before we packed up. Tailwind and Fade were just finishing their own landings, and I could just hear quiet greetings as they met up with Crafter back near the pit.

Fifty some-odd meters away, Frostfire hadn’t moved from what was left of her team. She hardly even spared a look in our direction, probably just checking on movement reported by her EFS. I was entirely willing to respect her request not to touch her friends’ equipment, but she seemed to not entirely trust my word on the matter; She certainly didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

Can’t be helped, I suppose.

“Bernard,” I called out as finished my approach, “Think you might be able to rig up a griffon weapon to fit one of the captured battlesaddles? Mine’s… a little shot up, figure it’s about time for an upgrade.”

He gave a quick glance at the weapon, currently strapped to my saddlebags, “Yeah, I think so,” he replied, “I’ll need some tools, spare parts and such. Might need to scrap some of the Red Eye guns to get it to shoot right, though.” Leaning close, he added quietly, “Do you know why she’s here?” Bernard asked, inclining his head towards where Ebb was continuing to blast dirt clods into the air.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied, “For now, let's humour Fade and… keep her around, I guess. I certainly don’t plan to kill her, or let him kill her for that matter, and leaving her at the mercy of the Ranger over there would be the same.” I cocked my head in the direction of Frostfire.

Bernard seemed to dwell on my words for a moment before giving a small nod. “Do you know where we’re gonna bed down for the night?” He asked, glancing anxiously into the dark.

“Good question,” I replied, “We’ll see what Ebb has to say. They had to have somewhere they could get to if the weather had turned sour while they were out here.”

Glancing at the wide selection of weapons that had been assembled over the ground sheet, I gave a soft whistle. “What’s the tally?”

He gave a soft grunt before rattling off what I could mostly see for myself, “They had already had a couple fights, so what we’re seeing is what they had left before they would have had to pull back. It’s a mixed bag of conditions, too. Two automatic rifles - one of which took a round through the upper receiver, it’s parts at this point; one lever action carbine, four bolt action rifles and the twin machinegun to the one Fade’s carrying.” He paused a moment, seeming to do a quick mental tally, “Plus five pistols and, naturally, the AM rifle that Fade also has.” He shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts of how much the griffon could comfortably carry. “Far as ammo commonality goes, the autos and the machineguns share an ammo type - of which we have quite a bit - but we’ve only got so much link for the ‘guns. We scraped up as much as we could from where Fade was firing, so we can link up a bit more to give them another belt or two, if we get the time.”

Bernard paused, “The Carbine had its own ammo, guess the owner actually owned his own gun or some such, but it’s well maintained.” He tossed his head towards Crafter, oblivious of our conversation and conversing quietly with Tailwind, “Might suggest he gets that. He could use something a bit more deadly than his peashooter, and he proved he can use a piece safely, at the very least.”

I nodded thoughtfully.

“Aside from that,” Bernard continued, “The bolt actions are pretty beat up. They use the same ammo as Fade’s rifle, so most of that should probably go to him.” He paused, sighting his rifle and doing a quick sweep of the far treelines, looking for movement in the dark. Content, he went on to finish his report, “As for kit and such, we’ve got two battlesaddles in better condition than your own, a bunch of bedrolls and enough assorted food to last maybe a week on top of what we have, if we don’t take on any more mouths.” He nodded pointedly towards where Ebb continued to methodically work on digging a hole through the frozen dirt.

“I’ll look into that,” I replied, referring to Ebb, “But I’m not telling her ‘no’ if it comes down to it. We’ll deal with it, simple as that.”

He nodded, seemingly content that he’d said his piece.

“As for the equipment, we’ll take it all. Tail and I will be walking, especially in this weather. Portion out what we’ll be carrying proportionately.” With that, I turned on my hoof and headed for the others, leaving Bernard to do some final, minor adjustments to how exactly we’d carry all that.

The hole, such as it was, had expanded considerably since we’d left on our griffon hunt. It now measured just over the length and width of the average pony, and about two feet down. As I trotted over, I saw the edges of the hole lit with teal overglow, before a muffled “crack” not unlike an energy weapon discharging met my ears, as Ebb showered the area in a spray of frozen dirt.

It seemed to be a process that had been repeated just about countless times since we’d left - a necessity, with the frozen ground making it incredibly difficult to dig.

Approaching, I knelt at the edge of the hole, placing myself nearly at eye level with Ebb. Either not noticing, or not particularly caring one way or another, Ebb continued her work - blasting another hole in the ground, and sending a wave of dirt into my face. I figured I might’ve set myself up for that one. The sea green mare in the hole didn’t look up, simply staring down at the earth she was slowly but steadily boring into. Her mane, barding and coat were thoroughly dusted in dirt fragments, ice chunks and freshly fallen snow. “So, Ebb,” I led off, more than anything intending to preempt any further barrages of soil while we spoke. “Do you happen to know any waystations nearby, or places to shelter for the night?”

She looked up, fixing me with her turquoise gaze as she sat down with a hoof on her chin in contemplation. Her attitude was casual, but she seemed more than happy for an excuse to take a break - despite the temperature, her mane was matted with sweat. I made a mental note to stop this, even if the hole wasn’t yet to Fade’s liking. Much more and she’d be the first to freeze to death if we took too long finding shelter, a fact she was most likely well aware of.

At any rate, she made a contemplative “Hmm,” noise. “Well, we kinda blew most of those up when we moved in a while back. Both Rangers and the locals have a tendency to try and ‘hole up’-” She said, accentuating the words with hoof quotes, “-and rooting them out usually leaves the building worse for wear.”

Without particularly trying, she confirmed several suspicions I’d harboured as to the nature of Red Eye’s stance on taking territory. But that wasn’t what was going to keep us from freezing, so I didn’t comment.

She paused a moment in thought before continuing, “And I figure you don’t wanna get cozy in a ‘Red camp, so that narrows options a mite.” She put her forehoof down in realization, “Well, we did clear out some of those crazy wolf-head bastards from a cave near here a few months back, that could work for a place to bed down.”

“Sounds decent enough,” I replied, idly shaking a bit of loose dirt from my mane. It wasn’t like my mane was exactly clean - to say nothing for the rest of me - but it helped a bit. “Once we’re done here, that’s where we’re headed, if you’d be so kind as to lead us.”

Ebb shrugged, “Yeah, no problem. I think I can remember where it was for the most part.” Getting back to work, she stood up, gathered a charge in her horn, and fired off another blast of magic into the dirt, even as she continued to converse, “So um, I’m going to assume this is for somepony else then? I, ah, seem to be needed.”

With a shrug of my shoulders, I sent a light cascade of loose dirt back into the hole. My mane was pretty much a write off for the time being. “That seems to be the question of the hour,” I replied as I glanced over to where Fade and Crafter seemed to be having a similar conversation some ten meters away. “He never struck me as the type to take prisoners in the first place, but as far as I’m concerned you’re under my authority now.”

Her expression was neutral as she deadpanned, “Cool,” before letting off another blast of magic.

As we’d spoken, Crafter and Fade had ambled closer, the latter gamely leaning against the former like a crutch - or an armchair - while the former seemed to be making every possible attempt to get out of the situation he’d found himself in, efforts which so far had proved futile. The two of them had entered earshot mid-conversation, and I only caught the final bits.

Fade reached down and gave Crafter an idle prod in his barrel as he spoke, “Hey Wrenchy, think you could be a gentlecolt and give the mare a hand? The sooner it’s done, the sooner we head out. That, and I’m sure it’ll score you some points with her. Put those sparkles to use, eh?”

For his part, Crafter seemed equal parts baffled and confused as he… well, not so much replied as obliquely asked, “Umm, what’s the hole for, anyways?” He glanced back at Fade, quickly adding, “And I’m not looking for any ‘points’ or whatever.” I could only wonder if he’d been tuning the griffon out for their entire chat, or was simply oblivious.

Throwing an arm fully around his equine walking stick, leaning in and “whispering” in a voice that lacked none of its previous volume, “That, my good Wrenchy, is not simply a hole. Oh no. This excavation of ours has a much greater purpose than that. For you see, this humble pit is actually a grave. One that can only be completed for its future occupant with your help. So what do you say? Help the cause?”

Abandoning the griffon to the effects of gravity, Crafter’s horn lit briefly, lifting Fade off of his back just enough for him to slip away. “Why do you need to dig her a grave?” He asked, oblivious to the griffon staggering to regain balance behind him. “I mean, we haven’t dug one for any of her friends…” Turning back, he asked more directly, “Why do we need to kill her? What was the point of taking her here then?”

Finding his balance at last, Fade dramatically pressed a clawed hand to his chest and attempted to put up a verbal defence, “Oh ye of little faith and foresight! Simply because I have her digging a grave doesn’t mean I intend to shoot her. For that matter, one does not even have to have been shot in order to fill a grave. They can still be alive, for instance.”

My stomach turned at that. He wouldn’t!

But he continued, instead, “Also, if not her then who do you think we would get to dig said graves, hmm? I certainly wouldn’t, nor would any of our companions. I didn’t see you volunteering, after all. As for why I’ve brought her along, that is none of your concern - just know that I have my reasons.” Having said his bit, he relaxed his posture, no longer bracing himself against the unicorn, as he followed up plainly, “So, will you help or not? It’s already dark, and we’ll need every minute traveling, unless you’re particularly fond of turning into a uni-cicle, that is.”

Seeming like he wanted to argue, but ultimately thinking better of it, Crafter started to move towards the hole. “So… do you want me to start digging holes for everyone? It seems like that’s what you’re implying.”

Caught off-guard, Fade was left staring at the spot Crafter had left behind. Only when the unicorn spoke up did Fade tear his gaze back to him. Even then, he stared blankly for another moment, before replying, “No no, just help finish the one. Don’t need any more; besides, it would take far too long.” His piece said, he immediately crouched down and began drawing shapes in the snow with his talons.

As strange as the interaction was, and much as Crafter had just agreed to help out, I felt the need to pipe up. Just as Fade had said, we needed every minute, and I wasn’t about to sit and watch as we burned another ten minutes or more digging, and freezing our tails off. “Fade, this is more than enough for one pony, and we clearly aren’t making more. Is there something you’re getting at here, or can we move on?”

Giving me an exasperated sigh (I assumed, at being interrupted at whatever it was he was drawing with his talons), he replied, “It’s actually deep enough as it is. Doesn’t need to fit the whole lot of them, I only intended it to hold one.” Gesturing to the the pair in the hole, he snapped a quick order, “Right, that’s it you two. Time to come out, unless you want to stay there as well.”

As Ebb and Crafter exited the hole, the mare stumbled as she climbed out, and quickly laid down beside her handiwork. She was clearly exhausted by the tremendous magical effort, but was only letting it show once the task was complete.

Gazing over at her from where he was standing sentry, Bernard quietly grumbled, “Give me a shovel any day…”

For our part, Tailwind and I simply loitered, sharing a quick glance. She was still aloft, keeping herself occupied by “pacing” side to side while hovering a few feet off the ground. Helped to keep warm.

Hopefully this whole charade will be over with soon.

Even Fade seemed to have enough compassion to notice that Ebb was absolutely exhausted, and gave her a minute to catch her breath before plodding over to where she lay. Eventually, he spoke up. Quietly, clearly intended for her, but still loud enough that the sound carried to all present. “It’s good that you’re still here, and you did well enough on the work. For that, I thank you. I realize you’re tired, but there’s a few more things that need to get done before you can rest, though none of them are nearly as difficult.” Pausing, he tossed his head in the direction of the impromptu morgue where we’d collected the bodies. “If you’d follow me, we can get everything sorted quickly and be off.”

Ebb gave him a skeptical look, but got to her hooves and followed the griffon’s lead.

With a soft flutter of wings, Tailwind fluttered down beside me and spoke up in a curious but hopeful tone, “Anything we can do to help?” As she spoke, she fell in step with the rest of us.

“Not at the moment,” Fade replied, sparing a quick glance back to meet her gaze, “but we shall see.” After after his cryptic reply, he came to a halt just before the first of the Red Eye corpses.

In training, we’d been taught that dead bodies often shit themselves. Muscles relax, leaving the body limp for a time, before rigour mortis takes over. Thanks to the cold, on our particular battlefield the stench of blood and shit wasn’t as bad as it could have been… but battlefields the world over, I imagine, have something of a similar smell. I sincerely hope I never get used to it.

It was the most foul thing I’d ever smelt.

Fade studied the scene, as if appraising the corpses. He let out a soft “Hmm” in thought, as his eyes scanned back and forth. Eventually, he leaned towards Ebb and spoke arily, “Awful lot of trouble for such an insignificant spot don’t you think? Allegiances aside, this is a lot of death for next to no reason…” Letting the statement trail off, he took one more moment to look over the bodies before apparently seeing what he’d been looking for, and resumed speaking, now in a more instructive tone. “Now, I didn’t have you spend all that time and energy for nothing. I’m sure you’re aware I had you digging a grave, and I’m sure that you’re wondering if it was for you. It is not. It’s for one of them.” He jabbed a talon at the bodies. “I don’t care whom you choose but if there’s anypony you held particular fondness for, now is the chance to give them a proper burial. A friend, lover, kin… whichever you prefer, make your choice.” He directed his gaze back to Ebb expectantly, awaiting her decision.

The mare hung her head low, realization dawning. “Do…” she started hesitantly, the first signs of any sort of emotion tugging at her inflection. “Do you know what happened to Jasmine? She was up with the Talon bugger on the cliffside.”

Having overheard, I stepped up beside her. It took every ounce of effort to meet her gaze, but I wouldn’t pile on the shame of being dishonest about my actions. “She’s dead,” I stated solemnly. “Near the sniper roost, I know where.”

Tail glanced over to me with a faint, sad look, then dropped her gaze back to the ground. I guess she’d seen the body after all.

With a light scoff, Fade turned away and shook his head, muttering just loudly enough to be heard, “Dead is an understatement. More like spread down half the mountainside.”

His assessment was harsh, but accurate.

Ebb recoiled slightly at the description, as if physically ill from the news. “I’ll pick Flo then,” she stated simply, as she walked towards her late sister’s body.

Fade arched an eyebrow before turning to follow Ebb. “I had figured she would have been your first choice,” he mused, “Kin is kin after all. What makes this Jasmine so special?”

As sick as the spectacle made me, I couldn’t help but listen. It seemed like dragging her feelings out in front of us… but maybe, just maybe, all this could help her with some sort of closure. I can’t fathom Fade at the best of times, but some part of me judged that it was best to stay quiet, and let him draw her into talking.

“Well,” She began, “Me and Flo knew what we were getting into here, knew the cost. Jasmine though… well, she didn’t have a choice, not really. She joined to give her family the right to keep their settlement West of here.” She came to a halt before her sister’s corpse. “She did it to save her family, and she did her damndest to make sure we were all cared for.” She turned back to us, and I realized this was, to an extent, an eulogy, as much as it could be given the circumstances. “Her compassion made her a target for that Talon merc, Griff. As far as I’m concerned she’s the only one outta the lot of us that didn’t deserve what happened here.”

I bit my lip and glanced away.

This isn’t something I can afford to forget. Not now, not ever. The cost of conflict has always been measured in suffering. It hurts, even to be on the inflicting side. This is what it means to be the willing aggressor.

I had a lot to think about, but now wasn’t the time.

Ebb made an initial attempt to levitate her sister’s body, but after a few unsuccessful fizzles of her horn, she abandoned the notion and simply bit her tail and started to drag her through the snow.

My body made a motion to move forwards, to help. An unconscious instinct, almost without thinking about it. Fade fixed me in place with a glare, and an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

It had to be her.

Speaking up, Fade seemed to have overlooked my unintentional gaffe. “In the wasteland, compassion is a target,” he commented as he trod along beside Ebb, opposite the corpse. “If it’s not a show of strength, it’s perceived as weakness and it will be preyed upon eventually.” He took a few more steps in silence, casting his eyes to the cloud layer and sniffing, as if testing the air, before adding plainly, “Sad fact, that. But a fact it is regardless.”

We arrived at the edge of the shallow grave, as Crafter felt the need to reply, “It wasn’t her fault there wasn’t compassion there for her. If we all had a bit more compassion, maybe we wouldn’t have made as much of a mess of the world as we did.”

Without ceremony, Ebb pushed her sister’s corpse into the grave. “I don’t care,” She stated, and by her tone, I could tell she was trying to believe it. “She’s dead, and so is my sister. By all accounts, I probably will be soon as well.” She gazed down into the pit for a short while in thought, before adding, “Nothing but dirt and memories…”

She turned to Crafter after shaking her head, as if to clear her thoughts. “The wastes don’t owe us shit, short stuff. Least of all compassion. You of all ponies should know our forbears used up the last reserves of that a long time ago.”

Fade nodded his agreement, clicking his beak and adding cryptically, “Burned off in the fires of the megaspells. A harsh world after a harsh, blind end.”

His statement caught me off guard, a surprisingly insightful glimpse into the griffon’s worldview. He’d never offered any particular opinion on the violent end to the war, I’d somewhat assumed it simply wasn’t a matter that concerned him overly much. That certainly seemed to be in error, though I hardly had the time to give the revelations proper consideration.

Crafter turned away from Fade with a frustrated shake of his head, his own thoughts on the matter abbreviated to a bitter sounding statement: “Obviously not.” Without further comment, he lit his horn and began to help Ebb fill in the hole.

Tailwind wrung her hooves together behind me, glancing from one party to another. She was clearly ill at ease with the way things had gone down, but couldn’t find words to weigh in either way.

I could sympathize.

As the pair of unicorns filled the shallow grave with loose earth and snow, I buried my own tumultuous thoughts on the world’s end. “We’re still here,” I stated, in an attempt to break the current tack of the conversation. “And we aren’t dying tonight; none of us.” I pointedly met Ebb’s eyes. I still didn’t understand her outlook on life, but I wanted to reinforce my own stance on the matter: that she’d live long enough to sort things out, if I had any say about it. Turning to the rest of the group, I began issuing new orders. “Bernard’s already sorted out the gear and supply situation; we just need to pack it up, then Ebb will be leading the way to a cave her group cleared out some time ago.” I nodded to the mare as I mentioned her, prompting a blink but not much else.

I cast my gaze over the group. It was the first I’d mentioned of the cave, and I expected at least some push-back on the idea, especially the part where I was placing Ebb in a position to direct us. Bernard seemed to accept the course of events with his usual taciturn expression, with a bit of a smile lightening his features - the prospect of not sleeping in the elements can have that sort of effect, I suppose. Fade merely nodded.

Surprisingly, it was from Crafter that resistance materialized. “Wait a second,” He opined, “How come we’re letting her lead? She could march us into… well, a trap or something.” For her part, Ebb seemed to regard the statement as being, objectively, a fairly reasonable fear.

“Yeah,” I replied, walking right up to his nose, uncomfortably close I imagine. “She could. But honestly, at the end of the day she’d rather not freeze to death, a sentiment I’m sure you can agree with. Right now, we’re trusting her just as much as we need to.” I kept my expression relatively neutral.

“But…” He cringed, glancing Ebb’s way awkwardly.

“I’m not telling you to like it, Crafter,” I allowed a harsher tone enter my voice. It had been a long day, and while Crafter probably didn’t deserve it, I was done pissing around in that particular frozen, desolate shithole. “I’m telling you to do it.”

Crafter backed off, looking confused, and a little hurt. But he didn’t press the issue. Seeing the exchange, Bernard met my gaze and gave me a small nod, almost imperceptible. Fade seemed pensive, glancing over at Ebb and wringing his talons together idly, but didn’t speak up.

Tailwind gave me a sad look, a hint of pity in her deep green eyes.

That look seemed to hurt more than the rest of the day combined, but I wasn’t willing to let that show in front of the others. I could deal with it on my own time, I figured.

“Keep your spacing on the move,” I finished, as if my orders hadn’t been entirely sidetracked by Crafter. I hardly even thought about what I was saying, operating more or less on past repetition and muscle memory. My thoughts were elsewhere. “Don’t switch off just because we won a fight - who knows what might still be out there.

“We step off in five.”

Author's Notes:

Well, no more promises on Chapter release dates I suppose. They happen when they happen.

Thank you all for sticking around. Finding time to make progress on stuff like this has been a slog lately, but the effort always feels very worthwhile once it's done - getting there's always the tough bit.

Journal entry to follow. A lot of things relevant to this story have happened recently, and while I'll go into it in a bit more detail later, in summary we're looking to get things back in motion on the writing front, more than already has been done.

Until then, thanks again readers!