Part 3: The Return

Carver shifted again on the seat, trying to find a comfortable position with his legs bound. He’d worked over the last half hour at loosening the bonds, all while listening to the verbal dance his captors were going through in avoiding an obviously sore subject. I may be bound, he thought, using another small burst of magic to get the ropes slightly looser, I may be blinded, he still felt his knife nearby, but any idea of using it was dashed when he listened to the engine roaring under the hood, but I’m not blind! There must be a reason I’m here. He loosened the bindings further. At least I have my magic back. Another few minutes passed and he finally grew tired of being silent. “If I may,” he started and noticed that his captors stopped their conversation, “I’ve noticed you two have been dancing around a topic for the last, what forty five minutes? And, I’m just wondering as to what it could be.”

“None of your business,” Scootaloo shot back, glancing at him in the mirror, “that’s what it is.”

“Now now, no reason to get defensive, wait, let me try to figure it out.” A small grin formed on his face as his mind grabbed onto all the details he’d overheard in the last hour. “Alright, I’ll start with where we’re going, the fiery one said that it’s ‘where the world changed forever’. Now, that leaves us with five destinations. The distance from Canterlot rules out Fillydelphia, Clouds Fall, and Manehatten, leaving only two places.” He stretched, pulling at the ropes gently. “Now, judging by your avoidance of mentioning anything to do with the small town that was there, that
s where I’m gonna guess the two of you are from," He shifted again, "And, I’m assuming that’s our destination.” He smiled, taking in the way the silence hung in the car.

“How in tarnations did you do that?” Bloom asked, twisting to look back over the seat.

“I just pieced together what I’ve heard over the last little bit.” He replied, ready to get to the source of his current problem. “Now, why am I being taken there?”

“Why don’t you just piece together that answer as well.” Scoots cut in, not waiting for Bloom’s response.

“Well then, I guess it’s only fair that if I know something about you, that you know something about me. So, ask me anything.” He sat attentively, facing the two through his blindfold. “Quid-pro-quo, as it were.”

“Alright,” Bloom started, thinking about what Dinkie had said, “why did you do those horrific things durin’ the war?”

“For the same reason your friend did this,” he motioned a hoof down the left side of his face, “because I get some sick pleasure from hearing them scream.” He leaned back, reminiscing. “The war, well, it just gave me a free pass to that pleasure, a pass given by the highest bidder. But you two know all about that, don’t you?”

“Wait, highest bidder durin’… you were a mercenary? Bloom asked, looking at him in disbelief.

“Yes ma’am, my blades were for hire.” Carver sat back, a look of pride on his face as he reflected on his services. “Found myself on both sides of the line too. However, there are some things that one cannot be paid enough to do…” His train of thought seemed to derail. Bloom turned back and pulled off Carver’s blindfold. The bright light hitting the unicorn’s eyes brought on a new wave of pain. “Why don’t you give a guy some warning?”

“What couldn’t you be paid enough to do?” Bloom asked, her curiosity peeked.

“Nos aeternam pugnatumque in nocte.” The ancient language flowed effortlessly off his tongue. Both he and Bloom braced themselves as the car was brought to a sudden stop. Purple eyes turned back to look at him.

“Sed nox semper cedit in aurora.” Scoots replied. Carver’s surprised expression said more in that second than he could.

“Say what?” Bloom was lost and turned to her friend for an answer.

Ignoring her friend for a moment, Scootaloo gave her full attention to Carver. “We’re workin’ for a horn-head called ‘Night Runner’, what do we need to know?”

“Ah, and with that last piece of the puzzle, the picture is clear.” Carver said cryptically.

“Ya know this guy?” Scoots asked, a secret fortifying her trust in him.

“We’ve had…” Carver thought for a second, “…dealings. Well, crossings might be the better term.”

“Yeah, and?” Bloom asked after a few seconds of silence.

“He has a habit of crossing those who work for him.” A small smile worked its way across his face. He shifted to lay on his back across the seat, head back against the armrest. “But, you two would have discovered that for yourselves in a few moments.”

“What do ya mean?” Bloom asked before turning to her friend. “And why are we trusting him?”

“As for what I mean, a ‘friend’ of mine was hired to do a job for him and, well,” he waved a front hoof in the air, “let’s just say that he never did show up again. As to why you should trust me? I’m just gonna let her explain.”

“Great.” Scootaloo said, putting the car into gear and starting towards the ruins of the small town. “Bloom, ask me later because right now we need a plan.”

--- - - -- - - -- --

The car rolled slowly through the ruins. The poor town had been found to be far too expensive by the senate to rebuild, so it’s burnt ruins stood here as testament to the events of ten years past. A few landmarks remained recognizable, the boutique, the town hall, the sweet shop, even the large tree that loomed over the town, even though all of these were decimated versions of what they once were.

The large vehicle finally pulled up in front of the burnt out tree, where a deep blue unicorn waited under its blackened boughs. He checked a watch he wore around his hoof then headed towards the car. “You’re late!” He called to the yellow mare as she stepped out, his voice vying for an edge of superiority.

“By the Nightmare!” A very male voice said from the other side of the car. “You can’t expect us here so quickly with these roads!”

“Ah, Carver, my closest fiend.” Runner said, twisting his magic around a small weapon.

“In the flesh.” He just seemed to appear next to the car, practically in a battle stance.

“You have got to show me how to do that.” Bloom said as she rounded the car. The orange wheelmare got out and stood next to Bloom, just a little in front of her. “So, here’s the package, now where’s our money?”

Runner pulled the small firearm from its hidden spot, and shot Carver, who stumbled back and fell to the ground next to the car. “Money? Oh yeah.” He turned the gun on them. “I’ve decided to give you a different kind of reward,” he steadied his aim on the yellow mare, “an eternal reward.”

The next split second was a blur, Scootaloo shoved Bloom to the side, the gun went off, and the orange mare fell.
Bloom stood there, staring at Scoots on the ground when the metallic click of the hammer being pulled back returned her attention to Runner.

“So, this is how it goes down.” Bloom said, tilting her hat forward, her eyes burning with a silent rage. “Dying at the hooves of a coward, not my ideal way out.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it….” Whatever else he was about to say was cut short by a knife impaling his chest. The gun dropped from the air as the knife twisted and tore his side open, forcing him to the ground.

“What the hay?” She turned and looked over at the grey unicorn, who was trying to get his hooves under him. “But I thought…”

“Never…. shoot… a shadow walker… in a shadow.” He breathed, the wound in his chest now looking much more grievous.

Bloom walked over to the unicorn on the ground, resting her hoof on his horn. “This,” she said, slightly raising her hoof, “is for Scootaloo.” She brought her hoof down with enough force to buck apples off a tree, easily snapping the colt’s long horn off. She scooped it up and threw it as hard as she could. “An’ this,” she stepped to his side, “is for tryin’ to kill me.” She planted both rear hooves into his ribs, shattering several of them. She then walked away from the mangled hornless-head.

“And, you might as well have this too.” Carver said, casting a relatively nasty spell for transferring injuries. He gave Runner almost the entire wound, letting the spell drop when he got to skin level.

Bloom sat down next to the car, fairly close to Scootaloo. “Do ya’ remember all the trouble we used t’ get into round here?” She asked, closing her eyes. A small yet sad smile formed on her face. “How many times we got kicked out o’ there,” she motioned to the tree, “or how often we tried to help Fluttershy with her animals.”

“Yeah.” The orange mare peaked one eye open. “And how about how often we ended up covered in tree sap?”

“Scoots!” Bloom swooped forward hand hugged her friend. “You’re alright!!”

“Not.. ugh, entirely.” Scoots said, trying to shift her left front leg to stand up, groaning from pain. “Aaahhhh!” She screamed in torment, agony and frustration as she fell back to the ground. Bloom moved to help her friend. “Don’t…” she shifted her right forehoof under her, “you…” she raised her front end up, “DARE!” She stood herself up, it had taken some labor on her part, but now she was standing. “There,” she caught her breath, “now you can help.”

“You got her?” Carver asked, opening the door and helping Bloom load her friend into the car.

“Yeah,” Bloom said, smiling at the purple eyes that glared at her, “I got her.”

“Ok. Well, I was supposed to meet some friends in Canterlot tonight….” He looked over at the tiny castle jutting out of the mountain side. “…but I don’t quite think that I’ll make it there any time soon.”

“Hop in!” Scoots said, looking out the rear window at him. “It’s our fault you’re here, it’s the least we could do.”

“After all she’s been through; she ain’t the most trusting soul.” Bloom opened the driver’s door and sat down. “Which leaves me to wonder exactly what you said to her.”

“I simply gave her the Nightmare Code.” He said, pulling his knife to him before getting in the car. “We’d used it during the war to verify a contact.” He idly twirled the knife in the air in front of him. “As to why it instilled such trust,” he turned to look back at the orange mare, “I have no idea.”

Bloom started the car and they headed towards Canterlot. Midnight was one of the few cars Scootaloo owned that Bloom could actually drive, due to the simple fact of that it was an automatic. "So, what couldn't you be paid enough to do?" She started the conversation back where they had left off.

"There are a few things, but the most prominent one, and the one that has the feather-heads after me, is that I simply could not sit there and let anyone get slaughtered." He replied, glancing back at the orange mare, who was unconscious in a far less than dignified position. "In fact, the Kingdom of Marrl III has me listed as a treasonous turncoat."

--- - - --- - - -

Carver trotted down the streets of Canterlot, the red streaks in his mane and tail dancing like fires. He’d ridden with his captors from the ruins below. The ride from the town to here had been an interesting one, he'd recanted many a fond memory he'd had with his friends and Bloom had done the same. He knew that they were only doing as they were told, just as he'd done the same a great many times before.

He turned a corner and found a familiar blue van waiting for him. He cantered up to it as the passenger rolled down the window. “Hello Prancer.”

“Hello darling.” She looked quite nice in her dragon skin coat. “We got ya a ‘present’.”

Carver hopped in the side door. He looked over the seat to find a light blue pegasus bound and gagged in the back. “A cloud head, how’d ya know?” He settled in, and they started off. “I can’t wait to get home and unwrap it!”

“Hey,” Shiny said, glancing up at Carver in the mirror, “where’s your coat?”

“Same place my old one is," he said, his grey eyes glancing at Prancer, "with a mare that bested me.”

- - --- - -- -- - -

Scootaloo lay on the couch in a very foul mood. She had been unable to drive for nearly two weeks now, which was driving her mad, due to a fractured shoulder from the gun shot. She had also told Bloom the story of the mail mare that had saved not only her life, but the lives of the ponies that served alongside her, even thought remembering the war always put her in a bad mood because she hated herself for what she'd been forced to become.

We were preparing to walk right into an ambush, but the information she gave us, it let us turn the tables on those feather heads. She used the Nightmare code to get the info to us, ‘We battle in eternal night, but the night yields to the dawn’. Those words seemed to fit their current situation almost too well for her tastes.

She stretched and rolled on to her side to look at the TV in the room. Some old science fiction movie was on, but she didn’t care. Tomorrow, she thought, eyes shifting away from the TV, I’ll be able to drive… if only to the store.

Fin