The searing heat of the mid-day sun woke Spike from his slumber, drenched from head to toe in sweat. Muttering a few choice words he started to reach for his eyes to wipe away the pooling sweat around them, only to be sent into a spasm from a sudden wave of pain.

He clutched at his chest, swearing at the pain. It was only a moment later that it dawned on him where he was and he weakly rose to a knee, the need to actually get moving letting him force though the hurt he felt all the way down to his bones. Staring blankly at the trashed and looted cart he dully searched for his bag.

Spike finally caught a break as he spotted it tucked nearby an empty pallet. As he approached it, he came upon a grisly sight.

A body of a man in a conductors outfit with a mangled, broken leg and a cut stomach lay before him, his intestine drooping from the wound. Spike felt bile rise in his throat, but choked it down.

The conductor’s head slumped onto his chest, the temple grievously wounded by a bullet. Spike glanced down at the man’s hands.

There was a revolver.

Spike hesitated, but crawled forward regardless and took the weapon from the dead man’s hands. He gave a small press down on a lever near the handle and twisted the chamber of the weapon to the side, revealing what he expected.

Two small orbs greeted him, the third absent.

He wasn’t an investigator by any means, but Spike could piece together that the man had probably committed suicide, rather than languish with a wound like that at his stomach.

Feeling like a different person watching a monster at work, Spike took the weapon and searched the body, finding, with some surprise, that he once again lucked out.

The man had a spare bullet and powder.

Spike had never fired a gun before, but he had heard Twilight lecture about them before, and how revolvers would one day replace even things like long-ranged muskets, once they were calibrated better and allowed something more potent than a musket ball within them.

He set about reloading the missing shot, placing the musket ball into chamber, then closing the gun. Spike gave a small pull from the powder horn he had taken from the corpse and fed a small bit of it into the pan at the weapon’s side. He cocked the gun’s hammer back and gave the chamber a spin, working the powder into the firing mechanism, then cautiously lowered the hammer back into place, pocketing the weapon at his belt.

Shuffling to his bag, he picked it up and leaned his head back for a brief, fleeting moment, before stepping out into the sun. He reached up to the pendent he wore at his neck as he took, a few cautious steps forward, intending to leave the train behind.

“Twilight,” he croaked out, coughing so hard he paused, clutching his chest.

“Spike?” Twilight replied worriedly, “Spike, you sound hurt, what happened?”

“They blew up the train,” he said plainly. “And I’m not, uh, I don’t think I’m hurt bad, though. Unless I’m bleeding internally I guess. Uh, how do I tell if I am?”

There was a very long pause on the other end of the pendant, before a very worried and quivering voice spoke up once more. “D-do you feel lightheaded?” she asked, “short o-of breath? Can you check your b-blood pressure?”

“I can breath fine,” he answered. “But I am light headed. I don’t know if that’s because I’m out in the sun right now though.”

“The sun’s bearing down on you too?!” Twilight yelled, beginning to hyperventilate, “oh gods… The conductor! Is he alright? please tell me there’s someone there with you!”

“He’s… he’s dead, Twilight. He shot himself before I made it back to the train.”

“By all things holy…” Twilight gasped, Spike could tell from her voice that she was close to fainting, but she somehow managed to remain conscious, “I’m going to tell Princess Celestia right now, we’ll have you out of there in no time, just stay—”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Not until I get her,” he said, swallowing. “I can’t.”

There was a long pause at the other end, before a voice that could only be compared to a mother’s worry barely made itself heard. “S-Spike…” she whimpered, “a man is dead, you’re stuck in the middle of the desert in the hottest time of the year, you have little to no food or water and worse still, you’re hurt, you’re alone and you could die by nightfall if whatever in the gods’ name that’s living out there doesn’t get you first!” Another pause came over the stone, but Spike could hear Twilight fighting back her tears regardless. “I… I don’t want to lose you, not after we lost dad less than a year ago…”

“I know,” he answered. “And I don’t want to die, but… do you remember the changeling invasion? Do you remember Nightmare Moon?”

“Yes…” Twilight replied reluctantly, “I remember them both all too well.”

“You could of died. But you kept going anyway. Why?”

“To save the nation, the world…” Twilight answered quickly, but soon enough Spike heard a heavy sigh on her end of the line, “to protect the one I loved.”

“This is my Nightmare Moon, then,” he answered. “So I can’t give up on her, Twilight.” He swallowed, stumbling once more on the sand. “And I can’t have you give up on me.”

“If Night Light could see how much you’ve grown since our trip,” Twilight said, he could feel her smile wash over him as she spoke, “he’d be… he’d be proud.”

“I hope so,” he admitted. “I… want to be someone people can be proud of.”

“You’re talking to one of them right now,” Twilight replied, “We’re still working to find a better way to take back Hoofof, but we’ve only got two days left before Princess Luna goes mobile, please be quick, and for my sake… be careful.”

“I will,” he answered, climbing up a small hill of sand. “Is there a faster way to town than by following the railway?” A thought came to him. “Twilight? How do I use this to show me the way to Amira?”

“The spell I cast on it should be able to guide you to her relatively easily since the pendant was very important to her,” Twilight explained, “all you have to do is think about her, just her, and it should be able to point you in the right direction.”

“Ok. I’ll try that right now.”

He shut his eyes, thinking deeply of her low, sensual voice and gentle nature. The pendent seemed to vibrate within his hand; he opened his eyes and a small, almost thread-like string came from the pendent, going northwest over another hill of sand and around a large stone in the distance, finally fading into the horizon.

“Yeah, it works. I think. Seems like it wants me to go away from the tracks, so…”

“Into the desert?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, already slowly marching toward where the amulet beckoned him. “Farther into the desert.”

“I already know I can’t convince you otherwise,” she sighed, “so just make sure you stay hydrated, that would kill you faster than almost anything else out there.”

“I’ve got some water still. As long as I don’t have to travel too far I think I’ll make it.” He mentally added maybe to that, licking his already drying lips.

“Okay, just try and pace yourself,” Twilight added before the sound of a door opening in the background echoed into Spike’s ear. “That’s Luna, I need to be going now, and again, be careful.”

“Alright Twilight. Bye,” he answered, forcing his hand to leave the pendent and staring towards where the pendent guided him. He waited only a moment longer before beginning his long and slow trek over the Arabian sands.