Chapter 17: Wandering

Sparks wasn’t quite sure if it was her dimming rest deprived eyes or the setting sun behind the sickly drab cloud layer that made all her surroundings seem to grow dark of a sudden. She had passing thoughts that it was probably both, but after five and a half days’ worth of walking west, a rough hundred and ten miles crossed overall by her PipBuck’s reckoning with the least comfortable bedding she never even fathomed she’d use, she mused that she might not even have the good sense to know.

That’s what had plagued her mind from dawn to present dusk. Wisps, shadows, and perhaps hallucinations seemingly popped in and out of her distracted attention, and she didn’t know if they were real warnings or simply subconscious tricks. Her sore body from random spats of controlled stumbling through the rough terrain wasn’t helping in any way to answer these questions either, with throbbing hooves and knees; her belly and back sore from chafing barding.

She huffed and shook her body, adjusting the saddlebags mid-stride as she lagged slightly behind her escort, and spoke with a deep felt tiredness that made her words slurred mush with a yawn. “You... were right Eagle... All this... this walking is making me batty...”

He gave a short single chuckle in the form of a snort from his beak, and after shaking his head as he fought the urge to let her yawn affect him. He spoke dryly with a barely audible, yet matching fatigue. “And we’re not even started yet.”

Despite his grim tones, he had admittedly been impressed by her determination from the time spent so far on the road. He knew though that, given time, she would buckle under the strain of this travel. He had seen it enough times to know the evidence; the straggling and off patterned hoof falls, the glazed expression of a fatigued mind and body, all of it told Eagle the one thing he didn’t want to do but more than likely would have to.

To him, it was a silent aggravation. He had spent years going his own pace, and now with seemingly innumerable miles ahead of him and his charge he had to make changes, or suffer the consequences. Normally he could clear twenty four miles of a day by paw, and with his wings and a light load he could nearly double that if he pushed himself. Now? With Sparksin tow who bore neither wings nor the endurance so common in others? They would be lucky to clear fifteen if he continued pushing his standard pace.

For a moment he wanted to shelve the dilemma and deal with it later, but with a sudden urge to speak about it he cleared his throat and spoke. His tones were serious, yet curious as his mind continued to churn about it. It made Sparks’ ears perk; ravenous for stimulation. “So... how long do you think you can keep this pace up? We’ve made decent time so far, but watching you trip over your own boots these past two days makes me think you won’t last.”

At first, her mind’s glaze fogged her eyes subtly and she had to shake her head somewhat vigorously before the question registered. She sighed for a moment before speaking, the confusion in her mind and fatigue in her bones emanating through her voice. “Decent...? I’ve been thinking that... that we’ve been practically flying our here..!”

“Not even close, kid. I got to The Hoof from Crystal City in twenty four days; a record probably if any creature cared, but roughly twenty four miles a day makes our pace a light breeze in comparison.” He had to suppress a more vicious remark about her stamina as he rolled his eyes. “Another three or four days at this rate and you won’t be useful for anything but holding down a bedroll.”

He shook his head as he fought his own urges to yawn again from Sparks’ tired words, but he repeated the question, raising his head with a deep breath through his nostrils. “Anyways, the point is how far do you think you can go before collapsing. The point of this is to get there alive and mostly whole, not missing your legs.”

“I... I don’t know Eagle... honestly, cross-country wasn’t a course back home.” She shook her body again as she couldn’t manage to get her pack to sit right, but no matter how much she adjusted it, even as Red Eagle had instructed once as she complained, she couldn’t manage to. “Even if it were, I’d guess carrying... another pony on your back wouldn’t be part of it.”

“As I’ve said already girl, you’re out in the real world now.”

“I know, I know... If I had to guess I’d probably make... twenty miles a day if I didn’t have all this crap on me..!”

“Not an option. We need supplies and I can’t carry enough for the two of us.” Sparksgave an agitated huff as she eyed her packs with malevolence.

“Well it seems to be an impasse then. I feel like I’m going to break my back here with all this, and all this walking with it is killing me!”

“I know, it’s been hard to watch honestly. Most ponies I’ve seen can carry twice your load and make double the time, truth be told.”

“I’m not ‘most ponies’ alright? I’m sure you’ve noticed that, yes?”

“That much I’ve seen, and heard. Most ponies are solid enough, even young as you are; but you? Cushiest Stable dweller I’ve seen.”

His comment irked Sparks, and she grimaced beneath her pack’s weight again as she shook her body with a huff. Feeling a need to prove herself, she stood taller and caught up with Eagle’s pace. “I’ll try to keep up, alright? Just... try to remember that I’m not used to this... this place. Despite all you could say about it. I’ve never dealt with all this walking before, and I’m going to need a break-in period. Alright?”

“As long as we can cover more ground in the coming weeks, I suppose we’ll have to.”

Eagle grunted in his chagrin. He supposed he’d have to make changes to accommodate her lack of endurance. Give her time to adjust. He just hated the idea of escorting that very type of pony; inexperienced, weak and stupid to the realities of this bombed out desert life. “In the end though Sparks, we’ll need to cover more ground. That is my ultimatum. I’ll give you time to get used to this, but you’ll have to learn how to pace yourself properly against my pace. I’ve been wandering these lands for years now, and normally I’d be able to leave anyone in the dust. You? You’re easy to lose in these deserts.

“But... I suppose I’ll need to be somewhat lenient. No Stable dweller has ever been good at crossing close to this kind of distance out of those blast doors. Many have probably just died of starvation or dehydration out in these conditions, and I need to ensure your safety.”

Sparks’ eyes flickered at the recurrent care that Eagle had toward her, and she decided to pursue it as she spoke. “What do you mean? I know that walking long-distance sucks but what else could open and empty Wasteland hold for us?”

“More than you know, girl. More that you know. There’s a reason I’m so, well... there’s a reason I’m wanting this to be over as fast as possible.”

Sparks’ imagination flew at the possibilities; what made Red Eagle afraid of traipsing around The Wastes? She knew it in his words, his omissions she recognized. There was something, or some things, that made him ‘nervous’ about it. She didn’t have a clue though, and the fatigue of the journey so far wore her desire to wonder about it down to nothing more than the continual trudge they maintained.

Mile after mile, hour after hour, they finally made camp inside the dilapidated ruins of another pre-war corpse. The campfire and rough-shod campsite gave little comfort, and, in the end, she fell to sleep again out of pure hunger for rest; despite the quality of bedding available.

*** *** ***

The next day that the sun rose above the horizon, Eagle and Sparks packed up their campsite after breakfast, sparing as it was with dwindling supplies, and continued off into the vast Wastelands that Sparks swore seemed to continue forever without end. After half a day’s worth of walking they finally saw on the horizon the outcroppings of a town basking in the afternoon sky.

Small and miniscule on the horizon it may have seemed, but Eagle seemed a touch relieved that they had found it as he subtly sighed. “There should be the Shears, out that way, north-east of us.”

He popped his neck in anticipation of whatever might have happened next, andSparks looked to him with curiosity. “Are you expecting trouble Eagle? Didn’t you say it was a simple farming village?”

“Yeah, but no telling what kind of place it actually is until we go there. I know they have cattle, but possibly they may trade in scrap and the like with scavengers. Might be a small town growing slowly into the beginnings of a major town. Either way, they’re somewhat isolated with the distances, and they don’t precisely have any true bearing on the northern wastes at large; I think. That’s the crux of it.

“They could be partly responsible for half of the towns nearby, or have no such power. In the end what that means is a wildcard town, and we need to see it before we make plans.”

Sparks sighed at the complexity that Eagle spoke of. In the Stable, you had certain groups of course, but at large the entire Stable worked together towards the common goal of... well, survival? That’s what she supposed, and in the end the seeming spiral of Wastelandic ‘politics’ as she understood it was confusing. All these disparate settlements almost everywhere and they all seemed concerned with only their own wellbeing.

She didn’t understand it, despite her attempts, and simply looked to Eagle with her best carefree expression. “Well, one way to find out I suppose. We’ve been... been wandering around too long without some social... erm, stimulus, I’d say.”

Eagle grunted in response, and ironically the very stimulus she wanted was exactly what he feared. Ponies, or any creature, represented certain dangers to him. New places, new cultures and such to learn the practices as to not offend or start fights with, and the Shears ranch fit the bill with an ultimate unknown. Almost as much as The Divide itself as it sat on its own horizon.

“I guess.” He said, and they both trudged their way to the village on the horizon.

*** *** ***

The Shears’ place seemed, at first glace, as much as Eagle had expected. A large barn in the middle of nowhere with a large expanse of ‘grazing grounds’ for brahmin to graze; only... it seemed, for lack of better words to him, empty. The field was expansive, the cattle numerous and the field of crops respectable enough, however somewhere a detail irked him. It might have been the lack of workers maintaining the fields in the middle of a crop season, or maybe the sheer lack of any pony nearby he could see.

Either way, he tread cautiously, much to Sparks’ confusion. “What’s wrong Eagle?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. Too damn empty; too calm and quiet.”

The lack of stimulus set him on edge, and the emptiness made his eyes dart too and fro as his body carried him in seemingly careless motions. This was a town, small as it may be, and it demanded some activity. Yet with nothing but to trot on he approached with Sparks in tow.

“Too be honest...” Sparks said as she scanned the horizon, scowling slightly “It doesn’t look like anypony’s here.”

“Don’t be fooled,” Eagle said, drawing from experience “odds are they saw us a mile off. Might be ducked into cover, trained guns on us.”

The thought didn’t give Sparks any comfort, and her darting eyes didn’t reveal any hidden attackers or ambushes she could see; the lack of evidence merely spurring her to deeper concern.

Eventually, after a seemingly long and paranoia-stricken walk, they ended up within thirty hooves of the gate before both Eagle and Sparks heard the metallic locking of bolts in rifles. Eagle froze, yet Sparks’ eyes darted too and fro all the more vigorously before the strangely accented voice of some creature -a female- rang through the silence from the barn. “Now I dunno whut you two are doin’ ‘ere, but yuh gotta head on back the way yah came, yah hear!?”

“No worries ma’am,” Eagle said aloud, with a calm and soothing voice as best his coarseness allowed “we’re simple travelers... Hoping we could find trade here, actually!”

“An’ yah expect me tuh believe that!? Raiders are willin’ to say anythin’ these days!”

“Honest, ma’am! You can shoot us otherwise!”

“How about ah just shoot yah now; save me thuh trouble!?”

“Now wait uh moment,” another voice rang out from the barn, male this time “Ah don’t think these are raiders Butter! Wouldn’t look so... civilized otherwise! Often they wear weird shit like road signs an’ such”

“Oh come on, yah trust too easy Cheery!” Said the mare, shouting a skeptical tone. “Could be any critter wearing that fuckin’ getup! An’ when wuz the last time yah saw a damn griffon in these here parts that weren’t part of a gang!?”

“True, but even then they tend to not be as modest as this’ un!” Said the male with a skeptical tone all his own. “Besides, this un doesn’t seem at all like the types of raiders Ah’ve seen!”

“Yeah, more like a damn merc is whut!” The female declared loudly, yet with a barely audible sigh she relented finally. “Fine. If they shoot up thuh place, it’s totally on yah!”

Again in Eagle’s life, he sighed in relief as snipers decided against wasting him on the spot, and he looked over to Sparks as he gave a small nod of comfort.

Sparks, however, was paralyzed with fear of the unknown. Her limbs trembled with anticipation, not truly knowing what a ‘disagreement’ would promise, and despite the easiness of Eagle her hoof falls were sporadic and reflected her emotions.

As they neared the large door of the barn it opened, revealing two figures who they presumed the voices belonged to up front, and Eagle caught a third back behind the cover of a few barrels. Only, to their surprise for different reasons, for Eagle the oddness and for Sparksthe fact she had never seen a creature like them before, they stopped in their tracks.

Who was before them were donkeys, in all their lack of chromatic and visual flair that ponies might have, and their appearances were downtrodden, wrinkly and aged brown spotty coats and, to Eagle’s recognition, well-worn by years and years of manual labor.

“Besides...” said Cheery, presumably, of the two, with an expression of smugness as he adjusted the patchwork rifle on his side, suspended by a sling “when’s thuh last time yah done saw a raider wearing that getup? A damned Stable suit? Yah gotta be kiddin’ me here if yah think a Stable dweller would last long enough to become a raider!”

“Not now Cheery,” Butter said, rolling her eyes with a distrustful expression “yah know as well as Ah that any raider worth their watah would stoop to anythin’ to throw us off guard...” She cleared her throat as she adjusted her own rifle, much like Cheery’s, and she fixed Eagle with an expression of wary, and reluctant, hospitality. “Well now, whut duh yah want out of our little rayunch? Yah said yah were in need of tradin’?”

“Yeah,” Eagle said, keeping a level expression as best he could to keep a good first impression “Trade is what we’re after. Food and provisions that’ll keep for a while, mostly. Water too, if you’ve got some to spare.”

“Hmph, figures...” Butter said with a huffing disbelief “always such with yah damn wanderers... Alright, we gots jerkys an’ canned veggies. More importantly, whaddaya got for trade?”

“A lot.” Eagle said, tilting his head with dismissal. “More that we can carry, to be honest. Bullets for guns we don’t have, some creature comforts like soda, standard caravan fluffing.”

“Well then, Ah suppose we may have business to... conduct, yeah.” Butter said, chuckling with reluctance. “But know now, ah got my eyes on yah, haven’t seen uh griffon nor Stable dweller since years ago; yah better be on the level wit me.”

“I always am on the level, ma’am.” Eagle said, nodding. Butter snorted in skeptical dismissal as she turned around and went back into the barn house, and Cheery merely smiled with and odd grin as he eyed Eagle and Sparks up and down.

“Please forgive thuh ‘hospitality’ we country folk have tah give y’all. Ain’t been a peaceful month in some while; got raiders and gangers festerin’ in them there hills and ruins. Don’t have much in the way of protection out here, never did save for caravaners. Oh, forgive mah jawin’ strangers, my name’s Cheery, her’s is Butter -my wife- and back there’s mah boy Roothoof. Even though she’d never admit it we’re happy to have yah here in the ‘Shear’s Family Farm’, run by us Shears.”

“The name’s Red Eagle, and this is Sparks.” Eagle said as he gestured a talon between him and her, and she nodded and tried to speak. Yet her voice still carried the fear from earlier, not to mention the wonder in her eyes for seeing a donkey for the first time.

“Uh, well... thanks for the, uh...” Sparks swallowed hard, and choked down her trembles to speak clearly. “Well, thanks for not shooting us!”

“Never did like tah shoot ponies -or any critter in general. Mama always did say I had a soft heart like that. But nevermind all that, it’s behind us now Eagle and Sparks. Why don’t yah come on in and we’ll see whut we can hash out for yah. Trade oughta loosen the tension in that old firebrand in there.”

When Eagle and Sparks entered the barn, the first overwhelming sensation was that of the unwashed stench of brahmin dung. It was clean, well... clean enough for a barn, but the wooden structure managed to trap the smell quite well as both their noses flared from the violation. Eagle had to shake his head vigorously from long forgetting that smell, and Sparksclamped her nose shut with a hoof trying to fight it -her eyes watering.

Cheery looked at them and gave a hearty laugh as he shook his head. “Y’all city folk then? This is a good day actually, thuh chill’s made it bearable enough, and what with winter coming on thuh stench ain’t too terrible. Nothin’ like a good ol’ snap freeze to-”

“Cheery, enough with thuh banter!” Butter shouted loudly, turning to them as she stood in front of an assortment of crates and boxes. “Bring ‘em over here so we can conclude this little visit. Ah ain’t keen on keepin’ strangers here fer social calls. And you, Root, go ahead and get to yer chores boy; if yah hear shooting you know where tah go.”

“Yes mama...” the young donkey said as he slung his rickety rifle across his side to be more convenient to wear, turned about and picked up a nearby bucket in his mouth and left outside.

Eagle watched him leave and Cheery sidle up next to his wife as he put on a wide smile. “So, yuh said you were wanting some, whutwuzit...? Oh, watah and shelf-stable goods. Watah’s easy enough, nice well house out back, but we ain’t got any of those ol’ army job food packs, those plastic bags and such, but we do got some canned stuff. All grown here on the Shear’s farm and ranch. If yuh want some jerkys we got some of that too, and we got some old pre-war boxed stuff ‘round here.”

“Never trusted those ‘Tee-Vee’ dinners,” Eagle said, shaking his head with a level expression “but I am interested in everything else you said.”

“Yeah, those box meals don’t usually go down easy. Often times I wonder whut a ‘Tee-Vee’ even was -or ‘Instant Macaroni’ for that mattah-, but anyways let’s see whut yah got Eagle! Spread it out over this box and we’ll see whut we can do.”

*** *** ***

The trade went off smoothly, well mostly smooth as it were. Cheery kept up his strange charm and tangents while Butter consistently chastised him for it, all the while the donkey mare proved her shrewdness across the exchange. The bullets and miscellaneous oddments from the townsfolk of Crystal City’s generosity in gifts went towards bartering for the canned produce that the Shears grew, as well as a healthy supply of dried brahmin meat for Eagle. Sparks’ face twisted with distaste as Eagle wolfed a strip down and offered her one.

She had sat down for the time on a makeshift bench made of worn boxes and boards for the time, her hooves throbbing and her back greatly relieved to have the weight off for a time as she merely slumped down. She checked her PipBuck occasionally, and an hour had passed as the world delved into evening darkness, a sparse set of ramshackle oil lamps lighting up the barn house’s interior.

She watched as Eagle haggled with Butter, back and forth they went on the value of certain items or their worth to their homestead, and in the end the trading was done. What was useless junk was converted into useful foodstuffs, and their packs were markedly lighter in weight as they hoisted them, but Sparks turned to Eagle who seemed ready to leave. “Hey Eagle, I was wondering...”

“That can be dangerous.”

Sparks rolled her eyes, but adjusted her packs to fig more snugly; the comparative weight replaced with bulk. “Seriously, I’m wondering if the Shears would mind us spending the night here. It’s nearly eight o’clock after all.”

“I thought of that earlier, and the less time we spend here the better. Besides, they’d charge us caps for the night.” Eagle scowled as he fasted his pack on more securely, looking over his back. “We don’t have much money, practically broke as it is and the junk we still have they don’t want. Wouldn’t be carrying it otherwise.”

“Something else is bothering you Eagle, what is it?”

“Well...” He said, glowering outside. “To be honest, I don’t trust small towns like this; too small, exposed. Only three donkeys here, maybe some other workers out and about we haven’t seen, and a day’s walk from the ruins east of here doesn’t comfort me; that’s Good Neighbor territory. Otherwise, you heard Cheery, there’s been raider and slaver attacks. We need to be a mile away from that type of shitstorm.”

“What are the odds we’d get attacked if we just spend one night here though?”

“Worse than you’d think. Last time I checked though we have a small town a ways west of here. Should be abandoned and we can camp there for the night -no one to charge us for shacking up in an abandoned house and little in the way of interruption.”

“Well...” Sparks said, sighing as her hooves began to throb under the weight again. “I suppose you’re right.”

She checked her PipBuck’s map and found the place he spoke of. A small town indeed, one that lay on the railroad east of the ‘Unicorn Range’ mountains directly southwards of a large and lush forest that flanked the western ridge of the ‘Galloping Gorge’-according to the map’s information. But just to the northeast of them sat ‘Good Neighbor’, a place of which her curiosity grew as she thought of it. She rubbed her eyes, clicked off the PipBuck with her magic and followed Eagle outside; her sore body rebelling against it.

And off they strode into the nearly pitch black evening world beyond.

*** *** ***

“Hold up.” Eagle said, staring into the distance as he and Sparks’ stood at the edge of the town next to the tracks. He was sniffing the air intently. “You smell that?”

“Erm... no?” She said as she started sniffing around, finding nothing odd or out of the ordinary. “What do you mean?”

“Wood smoke. Damn it, some creature’s got a campfire nearby.” He whispered coarsely, and his eyes panned back and forth across the horizon, but not a light or beacon pierced the darkness. “And... whoever they are they’re hiding it well. Indoors -they don’t want to be found.”

“I know we’ve done similar before,” Sparks said, taking a look around “but what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that we’re close enough to smell burning wood and we haven’t got any visual contact. A fire would be like a beacon out here in the dark. Whoever it is is hiding; that could mean anything, be it wanderers like us or traders...” he scowled into the blackness, his beak a grimace “or raiders. Might be the party going after the Shears.”

“You think so?” She said, now searching for any distant details she might find as she hoped for something. She found none though, which only deepened her paranoia fed by Eagle. “Didn’t Cheery say they were in some ruins?”

“Yeah, and maybe this town could be one of them. Damnit...!” He cursed in muffled tones, wondering if they should take their chances with them. After a time of conflict he turned around and told Sparks to follow, and so they trotted on into the town and hugged the walls away from streets as best they could; despite the piles of rubble between the buildings making passage past some difficult.

After a time of silent striding Eagle cursed again under his breath. There, through a boarded window ahead of them, were slivers of orange-white light peering from between the boards. They sidled up to them quietly and Eagle peered inside, and much to his chagrin he found the forms within bustling about, and their garbs matched their tones and words.

Raiders, all of them wearing that same old fashioned hodgepodge barding; their words as Eagle heard were hushed but audible enough to hear them. “So Garnet, whaddaya feeling ‘bout tomorrow? Thinking those mules’ll just lay down and die fer us?”

The raider, a stallion, spoke gruffly with an odd accent -somewhat urban and rural combined- and the mare he spoke to beside him merely chuckled. “Not a doubt in my mind they’ll make shit excitin’. Stubborn bastards. They’ve repelled a lot of other gangs before, but now without their precious guards, most of ‘em about and all and us outnumberin’ them it oughta be a cakewalk.” She chuckled again in her coarse but lightly toned voice, and Eagle kept his ear to the window as she continued. “Besides, what use is there being in a raider gang when there isn’t a little excitement Churl? I thought you liked the action.”

“Well, yeah ah do, but honestly as long as ah got myself some food I’ll call the day a victry; haven’t had a square meal in days.”

“I know pal, I know. Honestly, what’s Flash thinkin’ hoardin’ all the food like he is, leaving us with huntin’ for scraps and game?”

“He ain’t, that’d be my two bits. Ain’t like we can exactly bitch at him about it either.”

Eagle’s brow furrowed slightly as they spoke; they were beyond doubt a gang that hunted after the Shears’ resources -food in particular he took into consideration. If they were hungry, or starving he darkly hoped, then such a gang may be easier to get past without trouble. Only problem was they would be forced to take a detour, neither of them had exactly gotten much rest since morning, and Sparks, to his chagrin, needed it far more than he.

He turned around and breathed deeply, got close to Sparks and spoke in whispers. “Alright, we’re going to have to take a detour. These ponies are camping in these ruins and we can’t risk staying here tonight. We’ll head back out into the open desert and find another spot.”

Despite her grumbles of agitation Sparks kept quiet about it. She huffed and nodded as she tried to stretch out her aching hooves to little avail, and Eagle turned around heading back the way they came. After a short jaunt back out of the ruins he asked her to look on her map for other spots they could use, but nothing but open landscapes surrounded them for far further than they could cross before weariness drained them. He sighed angrily, and, much to his chagrin, decided to camp out in the open spaces.

He hoped that he could find some sheltered alcove to nestle them inside, but before long into the night did Sparks effectively collapse from exhaustion. So they made camp beside a hill and rested until morning without a campfire to warm them in the black as pitch chilling night.

*** *** ***

In the night, a sudden and excessively chilling breeze barreled through Sparks’ blanket and barding, and the near complete lose of warmth ripped her from her shivering sleep. She and Eagle had camped out in the open before once or twice, but with a new level of hatred against The Wasteland’s winds she glowered to the east over her shoulder; their source.

She was fed up with it, to put it bluntly and much to her own lack of better words. She curled up tighter as the wind began to die down, hugging her blanket tightly against herself. She huffed a sigh, shook her head and stared around their impromptu campsite to find Eagle perched up and staring off into the distance beyond.

She tilted her head up with a groggy expression and spoke to him. “You alright Eagle?”

“No, but I’ll manage.” He said without moving save for his beak. “This damn weather isn’t doing either of us any good it seems.”

“Heh...” she half laughed, grumbling “no it isn’t; at all.”

“I would say try to get some rest but I don’t think you’ve gotten more than thirty minutes worth so far.” He took his eyes of the distance and stared at her, his expression flat. “This cold’s hell, so no fault of yours.”

She mumbled in agreement, but for a moment wondered why it was that cold at all. While she had been used to an air conditioned Stable this, quite literally, polar opposite was murder on her thin coat and skin. She bundled tighter again, trying to ball up and cut the air off of most of her form. “Why is it this... damn cold anyways?” She whispered wearily, and shivered again. “I don’t think it should be this cold...”

“For starters the seasons are changing. Cheery said that winter’s closing in.” Eagle said, sighing that she didn’t simply opt to rest. “Other than that, well... I’d guess it’s the frozen hellscape north of us; the Crystal Mountains; downdrafts and all that.”

“The... Crystal Mountains?” She asked, and Eagle had to suppress a scoff as she continued. “I remember hearing about that in Geography class; huge mountain range to the north?”

“Yeah,” he said as he scratched a beak “that’s them. Cold all year round with a nasty habit of making it freezing around here in winter. Bad season for us if we stay around here.”

Sparks wondered just how much colder it could possibly get, and would have asked except for her wandering thoughts about the mountains themselves. Geography class had taught her of the basics of that great big region of mountainous terrain, but she remembered that history class had something to say about it too; albeit she didn’t remember it presently. “What do you know of them?”

“Well...” Eagle said, dryly “what I know is that they’re a big and nearly impossible mountain range to cross, other than that you can find Yakyakistan deep into the peaks. Overall though, you’re much better off just heading south for greener pastures.” He paused for a moment, and shivered slightly from the chilling breeze. “To be honest not much of any creature knows much of that area, other than the obvious; hellish cold and winds to make the hardiest caravan think twice. No creatures really go into the mountains.”

He shivered again, and wrapped his coat up tighter as Sparks did the same.

“So...” she said, attentively “nopony really knows what’s up there?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I know that lack of knowing pisses off a few of the caravans; could be some major settlements up there to trade with, like the yaks, but they’re the only creatures who could survive that journey for long. No caravans have come from them either, so it’s a bust.” He scratched his beak in contemplation, and dug into his memory for other clues to that mysterious region. “I do recall that I heard somewhere of some ‘Crystal Empire’ being up there. Pony city, supposedly had magic to rival that of Canterlot back in the day, but no creatures’ seen or heard of what happened to it.”

“Crystal Empire?” Sparks said curiously as she tilted her head. “I... vaguely remember that, but it was in ancient Equestrian history; I think it had just... vanished or something, then reappeared one day.”

“You’d know more than I would.” Eagle said and shrugged, a lack of care on his face. “As far as I’m concerned it’s fairytale hearsay -some legend that circulates the towns. Could be it has historical basis, sure, but no creature today has seen a pony come out of there and talked, save for liars and drunkards maybe.” He sighed, deep in thought as the conversation led him to their own task ahead of them. “Much like this ‘Institute’ I suppose. The only reason I believe they exist is simply because of that ‘Synth’ we saw.”

His words were hard, yet edged with suspense to learn what truly could produce such a thing. He had been thinking on that very subject for days, and after drawing blanks he turned to Sparks and asked his own questions. “What do you know of them? I know information is sparse and such, but anything extra could help out.”

Sparks frowned a little, and scratched her chin with a blanket bound hoof as she had wondered that herself. She propped herself up a little and spoke somewhat hesitantly. “Well... the Enclave officer had said was their files listed terribly little on them. They value their secrecy, that much is certain, and... well, I’d say they’re also pretty tech savvy. That Synth was definitely a fine example of that.”

“That much I’ve gathered myself,” he said, shifting “I’m more curious as to who or what they are specifically.”

“The officer had said they could be anything; a secret Pre-War military bunker, some secret unlisted Stable maybe, even a cabal of scientists with their brains in jars.” She said, chuckling a little at the last one; the idea seemed preposterous to her. “They didn’t know much of anything about them, save for they had some impressive technology and a lot of resources that they could use.”

“Seems like little more than wild speculation; brains in jars?” He scoffed slightly, shaking his head “I’ve seen brain-bots before, but they’re not exactly what I’d call ‘sane’.”

Sparks shrugged with a chuckle. “Yeah, that one made me laugh too, but the pony had a hard look about him. He might have seriously believed that last one, which...” She sighed, and a small measure of anxiety crossed her face. “I don’t know, but it makes me wonder if that’s actually possible. They’d have the technology for it if they wanted to do something like that though.”

“Yeah,” Eagle glowered into the distance “if they put that much love and care into a simple machine there’s no telling what else they’ve got in their sleeves.”

A period of silence fell over the camp as the wild and frigid wind continued to vary between gentle breezes to hammering gales, and Sparks tried her best to defend against it to no avail. Yet after a time, her heavy eyelids closed again, and managed to find sleep despite it all.

*** *** ***

Several hours later Sparks had been pulled from her sleep again, quite viciously so as a sudden gust of wind had sliced completely through her blanket without mercy. She shuddered awake and shivered fiercely, and she rolled out of her impromptu bedding with traces of hatred on her face. “Damn wind...!” She cursed in whispers.

She stood up quietly from the ground and looked over to Eagle to find him sleeping over a few paces. She frowned a little, and wondered if he truly was asleep. She hoped so and cursed at the wind again; a fate she wished on nopony.

However the waking had an advantage, sort of. Her bladder ached against her, and she made her quiet, yet clumsily sore way out of their camp site to find some secluded spot to relieve herself. It took her far more time than she was comfortable with, and the act even more so as the desert winds blasted against her bare flanks. She quickly put her Stable suit back on after she was finished, and while she did, out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw movement.

She froze in place; eyes shot wide as she scanned around for anything out of the ordinary and she would have broke a sweat were it not for the frigid air. Just as sudden as she saw it however a pair of sickly green lights shone from the darkness. She reflexively ducked down from the visage, reminded of the glowing eyes of the alicorns, but after a time she poked her head out to see the lights hovering a short distance away.

The light came from some shadowy figure in the darkness, but from what little she could see it was no pony, and definitely no other shape she expected from some living creature. She stood up a little, her eyes still wide from the startle.

“Hello...?” No response, at least in ponish. All that she heard was a low humming noise along with a barely audible racket like machinery with the wind. She spoke again, cautiously as she stood up completely, head tilted. “Are you... friendly?”

This time she heard a somewhat cacophonic series of beeps and bleeps hidden in static, and for a moment she could have sworn it was like a reply. She tilted her head curiously at the floating green lights, and cautiously flipped the light on her PipBuck on. What she saw was... strange at best.

Sparks eyed the floating... machine, with a curious suspicion. It was one of those ‘flying radio’ sprite-bots that Eagle had dismissed earlier early yesterday morning, and he had said they were ‘of little consequence’. This was the second one of its kind that she had seen, yet this one seemed... brave in a word, and it also seemed to demonstrate 'body language' -if she could call it that- along with its droning cascade of beeps and static.

The physical details of its form were far sharper as close as it was, and she took a moment to examine it. It had a set of insectoid wings, pale green in a blur as they fluttered a blur like a hummingbird's. They kept it a few feet from the ground level with her eyes, and the body was an orb shaped bare steel case battered with dings, dents, and scratches that crisscrossed its surface. Within the center grating of its ‘face’ she saw the dull glowing sickly green lights, presumably some vacuum-tubes within it.

Overall, the machine had an artistically derived design, one that frequented Pre-War Equestrian technology and architecture, and she tilted her head as she scrutinized the noises it spewed. For a moment, just a single odd moment, she seemed to recognize a sort of pattern in the incessant beeping, and despite her feeling it was crazy she decided to speak to the 'flying radio'; she suspected there was more than met the eye with these things.

"H-hello? Are you... can you understand me?" More static, only it seemed much more direct this time. There was a markedly different tone to it for a few seconds. She tilted her head again, eyes squinting as she wondered aloud. "I wonder... some kind of code maybe?"

She sat down and brought up her PipBuck, her telekinesis working the controls as she employed one of her technical know-how’s. She pulled out a transfer cable and attached it to her PipBuck and held the cable out in her magic. The machine was visibly curious itself, as it flew closer inch by inch. It seemed to keep its distance though.

"Okay, lets try this." She said, presenting the cable’s plug. "If you’ve got a port I can plug this into you. I might have a way to understand you, little guy."

A small smile crossed her lips, and the machine paused for a moment, recoiling from her a little. However, after a few moments it lazily fluttered to her and presented a port that she plugged the cable into, and the static barrage formed a far more coherent litany of beeps and bleeps, albeit still half fogged by the ever-present static from its speakers.

She looked at the text file that was created on her PipBuck’s ‘Notes’ section, and she saw that what the machine was speaking was nothing more than an audio rendition of Robronco's coding. She smiled widely at the revelation, and tried to discern what it said from the code on the screen. After a few moments of reading, she recognized it.

'My name -pause- is Watcher. And yes -pause- I understand you.'

She nodded and looked at the sprite-bot and paused as the machine seemed to merely float there without coercion or otherwise, but before long she exclaimed lamely and grunted; the night’s troubles having worn her down.

“Watcher, eh...?” She said somewhat puzzled, and the question was responded in kind by more coding appearing on the screen; a subtle electronic ticking and clicking warble followed each added letter.

‘Yes -pause- that’s my name.’

“That’s a... an odd name for a little sprite-bot, isn’t it?”

‘Well -pause- yes I must agree -pause- but being truthful I’m not a sprite-bot -pause- I’m only using this to -pause- ‘look around’ as it were -pause- ‘Watching’.’

A hint of understanding sparkled in her eyes as she nodded her head. Somepony -or some creature- was using the machine as a sort of drone to look around. Kind of prudent she concluded, but she wondered towards this particular creature’s intentions. “‘Watching’? What for if you don’t mind my asking? We aren’t exactly nearby anywhere important -kind of the middle of nowhere actually.”

‘Sorry -pause- but I kind of do mind it -pause- Taking a big risk just talking with you actually.’

Sparks was confused for a moment, but her sleep deprivation caused her to shake her head dismissively and chuckle a touch at the floating machine. She didn’t truly care enough presently to ask after such details, but as it said it minded it. She shook her head again, her confusion having found another path of questioning she decided to follow.

“Why are you talking in Robronco’s coding little guy? That sprite-bot should have a speaker or... well, anything for audio.” She grimaced a touch, and spoke cautiously to the machine. “Somepony told me that these machines are basically flying radios; ought to be a speaker.”

‘You mean Red Eagle over there I take it?’ Sparks had to fight the urge to have a surprised expression, but the text continued. ‘Honestly -pause- I think this one’s just busted or something -pause- no telling since I -pause- well -pause- I basically just highjack their signals -pause- I suppose a hundred years of exposure does a number on those things systems.’

The machine, or ‘Watcher’ as it said, bobbed in the air as the wind picked up into a fierce gale, and the shivering Sparks had reminded her of her need to sleep at least some that night; or morning, as she found out grimacing at the screen’s clock. It was just after three o’clock. “To be honest, I’ve got to get more sleep... Yesterday was terrible and with this weather I’ve barely gotten any rest. Thanks for letting have a civil -if not strange- discussion, but if you could be so generous-”

Her PipBuck screen lit up with more text from Watcher, the ticks and clicks emanating as the machine bobbed again, yet it seemed anxious this time -as if to keep her attention. ‘No wait Sparks -pause- I need to tell you something -pause- I would have contacted you sooner but Red Eagle difficult to evade.’

“Wait, how in...? Alright how do you know my name?”

‘No time Sparks -pause- I wish I had time to answer all your questions but the short answer is-’ The text file suddenly cut off, the machine bobbed a little as the wind blew lazily and Sparks fixed the sprite-bot with a curious gaze.

She checked the cable, which was still plugged in, and she tapped on the sprite-bot’s casing, trying to elicit some response. She got none and frowned at it. “Um... hello? Watcher...?”

Nothing. The machine and its messages ceased and suddenly the little sprite-bot merely began to hover off. The cable seized it and drew taught, but it just twisted around and pulled itself free as if either of them, the machine or the creature behind it, had long interest of a sudden. She knew that wasn’t the case, as Watcher seemed adamant to tell her something there, but her aching limbs cried for relief and she shook the dilemma from her head.

The sprite-bot drifted off into the bleakness, becoming little more than a pair of green lights as it meandered beyond. “Well, alright then...” She sighed, fighting a yawn as she shivered fiercely. She smacked her lips and stretched out her body before she went back into camp as quietly as she could manage. Eagle was still sleeping, she thought at least, and she cuddled back up into her bedroll with a greedy desire for warmth.

Before she slept though her interest was piqued, and more thoughts and contemplations entered her mind as she lay. When Watcher had said something about Eagle it irked her a little, and she didn’t know why; or at least didn’t know why Watcher held that apprehension for him. Sure she knew he was rather callous and hard, and a good killer, but beyond that she knew little of him personally. If anything, she felt sorry for him.

That wormed its way into her mind until she slept again; that Watcher tried to warn her of something, but of what?

Footnote: Red Eagle Level 22

Sparks Level 4

Next Chapter: Chapter 18: No Way out but Through Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 12 Minutes