After a few minutes Pinkie had broke up their moment and took the moment to thank Zecora for her generous hospitality. Zecora dismissed it and told them that it was her pleasure. Pinkie and Rarity sat down and explained their situation to Zecora. Pinkie did not want to drag any one else in her situation, but no one else was more qualified for assistance than Zecora. Zecora told them that she was willing to help them with anything even if it meant her life was on the line. That and her secret existence from the Equestrian government. It was only a matter of time now before the patrols would catch up with them.

Pinkie hefted an axe tight in her grip, sweat dripping profusely from her brow and down her body. She had bold anger on her face as she raised the axe high in the sky and letting the head fall down and split a log right down the middle. Perfectly cut. The split ends falling to the side. The axe dug deep in the tree stump she was using to chop wood. She and Rarity agreed that they would help with any chores for the next two days that they could stay. Zecora did not want to impose but they had insisted.

The morning sun beamed brightly and high in the sky, casting its hot beams down on her. She squinted her eyes as she looked at the sun briefly. it felt like ages since she had felt the sun shine. Bathing in its loving and warm light. The weather teams must have had something against Celestia's sun. Pinkie wiped her brow, cleaning the sweat off before they dripped into her eyes. Normally, manual labor would not be as taxing on her but she was using some of her reserve strength she held for her Instincts. To make sure something like the day before never happened again. She needed to be more careful with her powers.

Pinkie turned when she heard Rarity walk up to her and asked, "So darling, where are we headed next?"

Pinkie looked and saw that she was wearing her jeans as usual and a new shirt. It was lacy and looked exceptionally soft, a gift from Zecora no doubt. Her shirt before was very torn up. Pinkie looked and saw that she offered a towel, most likely because she noticed she wiped her brow with a damp back side of her hand. Pinkie accepted the towel and wiped her face clean with the cloth. She tucked an end in her jean pocket. She was lucky that she had worn her white sleeveless shirt, she would have drenched it with ehr sweat. She finally replied, "I...I haven't thought about that yet."

Rarity gave a sarcastic smile and responded, "Well, nice to know that we know exactly what we're doing."

Pinkie smiled and added, "Would you keep your shirt on, I know exactly what I'm doing."

Rarity rolled her eyes and walked off in annoyance. She followed the annoyed girl as she stomped off. Pinkie chuckled to herself and said, "Works every time."

Pinkie strained against the axe and wrenched it out of the stump. She held her hand just below the head of the axe, she looked and saw that she had a few more logs to do. She lifted a log and once again brought the axe up and swung it down with great force, splitting it in half. Perfectly. She grabbed another log when she saw Zecora was standing near her. Pinkie looked up and saw a curious look on Zecora. Pinkie asked with short breaths, "What?"

Zecora said, "You two just shared a moment together and you act this way around each other still?"

Pinkie looked back at the log and split it in half. She looked back over at Zecora and said, "That is usually how we work. How most friends work. A little sarcasm never hurt anyone. She knows that and wields her weapon well."

Zecora leaned against a nearby tree and chuckled to herself and added, "From what you told me, she probably does."

Pinkie was about to raise her axe when she stopped. Pinkie looked at Rarity who stood at a clothes line and was hanging some laundry. Pinkie replied with a slight shake of her head, "I never would have believed it if I did not see it myself. I kid you not, she got one right in between the eyes. And the other was right in the eye. And I know the rounds she used, those rounds are not meant to pierce that far into the head. Especially of a Shadowcat."

"Perhaps there are more similarities between you two than just your kindness." Zecora commented.

Pinkie shot a disgusted look at the witch doctor and said, "She is nothing like me. She is not a killer. I would rather see myself die than see her turn into something like me. Besides they could just be lucky shots."

Pinkie hefts another and with the strength of the gods themselves, the axe fell and cut through the log like butter. She put more strength into her strike she did not realize she almost split the stump in half. Her breaths were heavy and short, she would not let Rarity turn into a killer. She would never want to see that in her life. But that did not stop her mind to wander. She saw Rarity standing over a pile of bodies, blood splattered over her innocent form and a gun gripped in her hand. Smoke coming out of the barrel, indicating she had freshly killed. She turned her head slightly revealing an ear to ear maddening grin and a soul wrenching cry of joy and sadistic enjoyment.

Pinkie noticed what she had done and came back to reality. Exhaustion quickly taking over, almost passing out. She caught herself. Zecora offered some help but Pinkie lifted a palm and said dismissively, "I'm fine...I just need a minute."

She focused her breathing and her sore muscles. She felt like the pain of a thousand suns were rushing through her veins. Pinkie felt the destructive force of a titan running through her and she stood staunch determined not to let it take her over. she had not felt like this in a long time. The rush of a kill. The adrenaline pumping through her veins. But she remembered the darkness that came with her. For three years she had not had those thoughts, and dreaded now that she had them. It tore her away, piece by piece.

She remembered the good times and the happy times she had shared with Rarity, and she felt the killer inside of her die down. She opened her eyes and looked back over at Zecora who glanced over her shoulder at Rarity who whistled while she worked, a happy melody and one that promised good times ahead, false hope that Pinkie knew she knew was not there. Zecora looked back over at Pinkie and said, "You will need to tell her what you are one of these days."

After a few laborious breaths Pinkie responded, "All she needs to know is that I have killed. She does not need to know what I am. If she knew, Celestia herself would smite me. She knows enough."

Zecora nodded her head and silence ensued between them as Pinkie swung the axe and it sunk itself into the trunk. Zecora had a callous look on her face and Pinkie replied to her look, "It is better this way. I am protecting her."

Silence over took them and Pinkie finally broke the silence and asked, "So...have you seen any of my family in these woods?"

Zecora crossed her arms over her chest and replied dropping her callous look, "I tried all the spells I know to try and find those that share your blood. But...what I see is hazy...all I can tell you is that I see a house that rests in a silent and dead grove and carved into a tree the words, "Domus Lutum". And that it is located in the northwestern part of the forest. That is all I know."

Pinkie knew the phrase well. Domus Lutum is "Dirt House" in latin, it was said to ward off uninvited visitors to stumble upon their property. It makes the property nearly invisible. To those who do not know it exists and to those who want to seek it out. It requires a lot of dark magic to break the protective spell to learn where it is located, let alone know what it looks like. It was her family's way of staying hidden from the princesses. But that also only permitted hunters to leave. Those to find the victims and the prey.

Zecora asked, "Are you going to go there."

Pinkie looked to the northwest and replied, "I will have to if I am to redeem myself. To finish what should have never started. Can you counter the spell?"

Pinkie turned to the witch doctor and shrugged her shoulders and responded, "I can try. I will make no guarantees that my hex bags will work. I have not worked woth magic that old since I was with your family, and even then I barely understood it."

Pinkie lifted her hand to her chin and tapped it contemplatively. They needed a way to sneak in and take care of things quickly and silently. Zecora was not their only master of the dark arts they had, and certainly not their most powerful. But they needed a way to be invisible to their eyes. She knew Lilith would try and search for Pinkie if she knew she was still alive. Lilith never liked Pinkie, mainly because of the fact Lilith had to take her under the her wing and teach Pinkie the art of sadism. And like most times, the apprentice soon became the master. Since Pinkie's day one of murdering, Lilith had worked to sabotage Pinkie. If she was to kill her family, she needed to kill the eyes first. She needed to get Lilith's attention. Pinkie never took kindly to witches, they were unsanitary when they killed. Granted, neither was Pinkie when she killed. But to kill for personal power...it was...inhuman. It was not right.

So she stood at an impasse. She could not counter the spell and walk right on in, risking Lilith's dauntless conviction. Or, she could counter the spell and not know where Lilith is hiding. The decision was hard and a heavy one. One that would require many a night to think, and not soaked in sweat. Pinkie looked to Zecora and said, "I am going to clean myself up. Make the hex bags just in case. I am still uncertain of if I will use them."

Pinkie walked off towards the hut and Zecora said to her as she stepped away, "You are fighting a raging inferno, child. And you cannot fight it with the forgotten embers of another."

Pinkie stopped and felt a force bash against the side of her mind. Like a hammer blow to the head. A vicious strike and memory of what happened before. A cruel memory of one of the dark magic massacres. Her mind drew black as she remembered the night as clear as day,

The night air was cold and could pierce innocent flesh if it so required. A night perfect for the blood of the innocent to be spilled. To wash in the blood and gather the powers of the unholy. But not for me. My walk was brisk and determined, a long black cloak to shroud my features and hide from the innocents that lay chained in the middle of the grove. Their skin exposed and their faces shown with the pale expressions of their last moments and breaths. Their final night, a look that I drank in.

I ignored them fro now. And turned my attention to the ringleader of the carnival of madness. Standing atop a pavilion of rotted and aged wood was one who's soul was darker than mine. Standing with wraps and garb of the Blackwhisper coven, Lilith. Lilith had long blonde hair that gently billowed in the wind, making her stark white face and her beating pale blue eyes stare at her quarry in the middle of the grove. I stared upon her face and growled inwardly at her. I was stopped by a hand against my shoulder. The owner being that of my brother, Flint. Flint had short jet black hair and dark green eyes. His face hardened with absolute neutrality. I said to Flint, "Brother. Take your hand off of me so that I may pass."

Flint did not flinch as he replied, "I do not fear your threats dear sister. But what I do fear is why you would interrupt the ritual."

"Because it is not right," I snapped, "Our fates do not lie in the hands of witches and their blood stained bones. Our fates lie with our survival skills and our wits, not black magic."

It was then I heard the condescending and sharp tone of Lilith, "I do not expect a fool such as yourself to understand what we would hope to do. The weak minded have no place amongst the Blackwhisper."

My fury was unrelentless when I spoke to her. I turned and growled with anger in my eyes, "Yet you stand here before us, Lilith. You hide behind books and spells, too much of a coward to face me yourself."

Lilith huffed and replied, "I do not need spells to put you in your place, worm."

With gritted teeth I threatened, pulling out my knife, "You bi-"

"That is just about enough!" The all too familiar voice of my uncle called out. Announcing he had returned from hunting with the rest of his party. Wearing cloth and aged plate on the shoulders, wrists, and boots. His aged gaze set to mine and continued, "The blood of the innocent shall be spilt. Not that of our own. Pinkamena, I want you to return to the house. And Lilith, you have more duties to attend to than insult my niece. Remember your place here."

With that we both exchanged hateful looks. Promising each other one day, we would meet again. And one would come out on top. And the other would die. I looked back at my silver haired Uncle Grossan and responded, "Forgive me uncle. I just thought that we should have control of our fates. And not have them in the hands of thieves."

Pinkie returned back to reality and replied looking over at the dark skinned witchdoctor, "Sometimes all we have is fire to fight the flames."

Rarity hung various clothes on the line to let them dry. Who knew that one person had so many changes of clothes? She hung up a shirt and with that she saw the flash of Bon Bon. Standing with blood leaking from her mouth, lazily falling off of her lips and staining her chest. Repeating in her mind was the words. It was you.....it was you...

Rarity held tightly onto the white shirt and prayed to anything to let that horrible image escape her vision. How many more days was she supposed to go through before the visions stopped. How many times must she tell herself that it was an accident, and hoping the visions would not come back? Is this what Pinkie always saw? How was she still sane? How was she able to accept the blood on her hands? All she could think about was the blood. The pain. All the soul straining pain that came with taking a life. Every time she felt the visions come, she felt a little part of herself being consumed by the endless void of cold blooded murder.

Cruel intentions. Fountains of blood. Salting old wounds. And sacrificing the masses. These were her thoughts now. She needed some way to cope with the dreaded thoughts that threatened to overtake her. She knew that Pinkie never wanted this for her. And she refused to let the darkness take hold of her. But her grip was loosening ever so slightly. Her courage hanging by the edge of a knife. Her dauntlessness faltering ever so slightly, showing the true strain it had upon her soul. Rarity closed her eyes, hearing fresh in her mind the cracks of thunder coming from her weapon of cold steel. She can feel the leather grip in her hand right now. Pulling back the hammer, and watching the squirming of her victim. She sat at the wash board feeling the cold rustle of grass against her bare feet and the wind billowing at her, waving her ponytail slightly in the wind.

She tried to calm her nerves with the soothing air, slightly pushing back the darkness that encompassed her soul. If she let the darkness slip through, it would be all over. She would become a nightmare.

She felt something heavy fall into her lap. She grunted slightly at the pain and opened her eyes to see Zecora standing over her and she asked ever so slightly, "Come, ti kras chasè."

Rarity simply held the cold steel weapon at the chambers of the six bulleted gun. She stood up and followed Zecora as she walked deeper into the woods. The brush slowly became more overgrown and a darker shade of green. The sound of cicadas loud in her ears, threatening to over come her hearing with their choir of high pitched clicking. Rarity looked at the aged metal gun. It had saved her life twice. No, she had. What she held in her hand now was merely a tool. An extension of herself. It was apart of her now, it had spilt blood already. And it was the object of her nightmares, with the promise of a cold death. Rarity had remembered the particular make of the Colt. Called a "Peacemaker".

They delved into the Everfree for what felt like hours. The her feet brushing and crunching the rough and unfamiliar ground, there was something her father had told her about unfamiliar ground. Never have a fight on unfamiliar ground. Know your way around the area around you, so you know where to land punches and where to evade the fists of injustice. But what did he know of injustice? He was a drunken bastard of a father. Nothing more. At least that was all he was to her. Refocusing on the present, Rarity followed close behind Zecora. The light tried all it could to seep through the treetops, lighting the dark path before her.

While the atmosphere of the forest itself felt abandoned and lifeless and somewhat lively. But Rarity could not shake the feeling that they were being watched, by a thousand different eyes. Rarity shifted her gaze from left to right, trying to find some mental comfort in knowing that it was just them in the forest. The cicadas silenced and the wind rustling through the dry brush of the forest. Unsettled and slightly on edge, Rarity followed at a slightly slower pace. Not wanting anything to do with that place. The dark ebony shadows blanketing over the forest, masking the bright sunshine she was getting used to.

The silent breeze gently and ever so softly dancing across the floor of the forest. And the whispered wind the blows through the tree tops. The slight creaking of wood, tree against tree. The crunch of dead grass underneath her feet, echoing down their derailed path. Rarity never liked the Everfree Forest. For all that it was worth, she never liked any atmosphere like the one she was in. It seemed as if everything was put there to unsettle her and give her a false sense of solitude. A false sense of being alone.

Rarity's eyes bulged and she convulsed at each and every sound, making her nearly jump out of her skin. The witch doctor noticed her jumps and said, "Do not fear the woods. For they will take care of you."

Rarity increased her pacing and walked next to Zecora and asked, "Then don't have the forest look so menacing."

Zecora cracked a friendly smile and replied, "The forest is much like a painting. It holds hidden beauty and hidden monstrosities. It is important to find the difference. It is either a monster to be feared. Or a beautiful friend."

Rarity looked back at the Peacemaker in her hand. Holding the gun did not help the situation, she had taken lives with it now. A contract made in stone that she was to never be the same again. Pinkie praised her for her marksmanship, being her first time ever firing a gun. Did she deserve such praise? Was it just a "beginners luck" sort of situation? Or was it some hidden talent she had? That she could shoot with amazing accuracy. Rarity assumed, that she would find out soon enough.

Finally they stopped and Zecora looked over at Rarity and said, "I reloaded the gun before we came. Two fresh rounds. Now, I have a challenge for you."

Rarity nodded her head in reply and Zecora continued, "Do you see that deer over there?"

Zecora pointed a finger out in front of her. Rarity followed the finger and saw past the overgrowth and past the haze of darkness, she saw it. It was a beautiful doe eating at some plants. Gently munching at some grass. Rarity's heart stopped as she realized what Zecora wanted her to do. She wanted Rarity to shoot the doe and kill it. Killing a doe is no different than taking the life of an innocent. It was not right. But Zecora would not let her leave if she did not perform the deed. Rarity looked down at the gun once again and closed her eyes in solitude. Trying to reach a calmed state of mind and nodded.

Zecora said in a quieter tone, "Shoot it. And shoot to kill."

Rarity took in a deep breath and held the grip of the gun. Rarity at first when she first held it, that it would weigh too much for her to even hold it. But the opposite was true, it was perfectly balanced. Rarity rested her finger on the trigger and still having her eyes closed she raised the steel weapon. Holding the grip with one hand and having her right foot out pointing at the doe. Her other hand dangling lazily at her side and her left foot digging into the ground. Rarity was focusing her breathing, long breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth.

Her right eye opened and it squinted as it stared down the iron sight of the Peacemaker. Rarity's hand steady and her breaths long. In those moments she held the reigns over life and death. The doe's life was in her hands, that weight did not belong to Rarity. She was about to lower her arm when she heard the incessant taunts of her father. The years of pain that had him in her life. Especially that night everything went wrong. When her own father called her a bitch. And with those memories Rarity pulled back the hammer of the gun with a resounding click as the gears set into place, and the spark was read to ignite and fire the bullet.

With new found focus Rarity stared down the barrel at her quarry. Her mind wiped clean of all other thoughts, a deep fire in her stomach. Fires of vengeance as she continued to hear his disapproving voice. Rarity felt her grip tighten ground the Peacemaker and constrict the handle of the gun. Rarity pressed lightly on the trigger, not completely pulling it back. With one more deep breathe and at the final pull of the breath Rarity released a crack of thunder and within split seconds she heard no cry of pain from the doe. A sigh of relief came out of her mouth.

Zecora clapped a hand on her shoulder and they went to the doe to inspect the wound. Rarity walked on with a heavy heart. She had done it. She took an innocent life with it now. Which made Rarity question why it was called a "Peacemaker". Now it weighed on her, this weapon was her now. She could never part with it now. A bond now solid and made real, one that can never be broken. Not a bond of friendship, but a bond of need. A bond of partnership.

They stopped at the deer corpse. A pool of blood leaked out and gathered, to stain the dirt with innocent blood. The liquid soaking in the dirt. Rarity saw the light brown lifeless doe and her soul left her. She had taken this doe's life. It looked to just have gotten to the age where she would look for a mate. And she took that privilege from her. Rarity knelt and rested a hand on the doe's neck. The doe was cold to the touch and Rarity sputtered as she rested her hand there. A tear came out of her eye and joined the pool of blood beneath her. Rarity said brokenly, "I'm...sorry."

Rarity looked at the entrance wound. The hole placed on the deer's head. Rarity looked at Zecora who held a neutral look and she said, "You just killed a doe from 150 yards away, with a head shot."

Zecora knelt next to Rarity and finished, "I sensed you use magic. It seems you have a gift. I know that you are like Twlight, in that you can use magic, but you cannot cast very offensive attacks. But, you are a master of telekinesis because of how much you use it. You use your telekinesis to see over the field and sense the weak points of the prey. And you use it, when the bullet releases, to send the bullet farther and harder and guide it to its spot. You are what is called, a Gunslinger. It does not matter what gun it is or what caliber it is. You were born with this gift young Rarity. You are in the early stages of being a Gunslinger, if you work at it you can eventually make it so that you can make the bullet explode on impact. Or even freeze the opponent solid."

Rarity had eyes as wide as plates and all throughout her talking Rarity stared down at the Peacemaker and had a new found respect for her weapon. She knew that this pistol only had a range of fifty yards. She carried the bullet with her telekinesis 150 yards. She could do the impossible with this weapon. And she could go further with it. She had to talk to Pinkie because she had the insatiable need to spill blood again. To make herself a better gunslinger. And to clock in more kills with the gun. For she held the bonds of life and death in her hand right now, all she needed to do was aim and pull the trigger.

Author's Notes:

In case some of you guys missed it. Or don't care to look at the description. I made the unofficial "soundtrack" of the fic. Songs will be added as the chapters come out. But only after the chapter comes out, no secret sneak peeks. And you can only access the playlist on Youtube by this link. So listen to the songs. Just as a word of warning for some, some people might not like the song selection but most of the people that read this story have previously already listened to the song or know of the band. Just in case you guys.

Okay? Okay.
See you guys next chapter!
~Sylus~