Colt of the West

by DiveBomb

First published 4th of September, 2012

Sequel to Treasure in the West

[Part Two of the Riflepony Series] Braeburn was once a simple, humble farmer; not the type of pony one would look at twice. But a little over a year ago, all of that changed. Before then, he hadn't met the pony of his dreams. Before then, he hadn't discovered his lineage and new-found talent. Before then, he hadn't been prepared for the adventure that he was about to embark on. Now all the cards are on the table, and not just his life. Join Braeburn and Daring Do in this high-action installment of the Riflepony Series as they struggle with not only a new quest, but with fate as well. Old enemies have returned, and have formed a fearsome alliance. In the midst of chaos and absolute danger, Braeburn might have to break his one and only rule, as the new Colt of the West.

Proofread by JohnPerry and RenaTurnip

One - Peace Interrupted

Good and Evil; such vastly different terms, defined in many a fashion. Light and Dark; polar opposites. While it is indeed a cliched notion, we never stop to look around and really think about the idea. One immediately ponders divinity on such a subject, but few open their eyes to see that these battles happen every day and on varying scales. Some are large and instantly recognized. The rest, however, aren't observed nor defined as such. But all in all, the struggle is the same. It can happen between two or even many. But every day, at least one soul in the world finds itself torn between the two. We all find ourselves at an impasse at one point in our lives, but the only thing we can do is hope that our decision will be for the best. If you haven't already, you will eventually find yourself having to make such a decision.

One can only hope that a little Good will come out of it.

Cheers of excitement and elation roared across the dry flat lands, bringing an uplifting air to the desolate outskirts of Appleloosa. The perimeter of the makeshift arena was lined with a red-painted wooden fence, bright in hue to warn passerby of the danger they could stumble upon. High in the rafters was a large audience, almost the entire population of the nearby towns. Ponies from all over the West had flocked to spectate the event, their eyes fixated on the long range ahead. Some even threw their cowpony hats into the air, unable to wait for the competition to begin. Behind the wooden bleachers and seats stood a tall announcer's box, where the mayor and sheriff of Appleloosa sat, visible from the competitors' bunker below.

The small stone alcove was filled to the brim with mares and stallions of varying age, all eagerly waiting for their names to be called. Each competitor sat upon a long bench, a few inspecting their weapons for any last-minute changes or repairs. The majority of them were young adults, ranging from their twenties to thirties. A couple, however, were barely even teenagers. The youngest was a pegasus filly, her wings looking too small to bring her airborne for more than a moment or two. She didn't seem like the type of pony one would expect to find an interest in rifles, but there she was, clutching a small lever-action in her forehooves. The stallion in the corner regarded her with concern, for she seemed to be shaking upon her end of the bench. He cast her a worried look as the filly traversed the filled room of ponies with her large blue eyes. She brought a wary hoof up to her brow, wiping a bead of sweat from under her swaying brown bangs. The stallion knew who she was, but it took a few moments for him to recognize her.

There was no mistaking who she was. Brown pigtails, a coat of white and the cutie mark of a smoldering .357 Magnum cartridge. It was the prodigy from Los Pegasus; the youngest competition shooter in Equestria. Despite her fame, the pegasus' name was mostly unknown in the desert. The stallion in the corner though, knew her name and face from the smaller sections of the local newspapers. If the articles had been correct, then he found her attendance unsurprising. Judging by the crowd of unrecognizable, mostly mediocre shooters, the filly would prove to be victorious this day.

He didn't know what it was, but something told the stallion to walk over and comfort her. He would have felt terrible if the prodigy competed with nervous hooves. The tan earth pony let out a snort, rising to his hooves and weaving through the crowd of ponies. It took a moment, but eventually he reached her. The filly didn't even notice his presence through her shifting eyes. The stallion sat aside her on the bench, shrugging his deep brown cloak to cover himself once again. At the sound of the fabric whipping around, she snapped her neck up to him, her eyes wide. She snapped her gaze to the rifle on his back, and then back to him.

"Easy now," he smiled, his voice gruff but calming. "Are y'alright?"

"Wh-Who are you?" she stammered, as if the stallion were about to shoot her on sight.

"Nopony who's gonna hurt ya', don't worry," he chuckled. "Now what's such a gifted little filly like yerself doin' shakin' like a leaf in a breeze?"

The small pegasus recoiled before exhaling a long breath, her chest deflating in an attempt to calm herself. "Oh...I didn't think anypony here would know me," she said. "I guess I'm just nervous."

"What's there to be nervous 'bout?"

"I don't know...I guess it's just weird being here alone," she said, causing the stallion's ears to prick up. She was all the way out here alone?

"Where are yer parents?"

"In Appleloosa, I guess," she sighed, looking down at her swinging hindhooves, dangling above the floor. "They're interested in the sights, so they left me here while they looked around."

The tan earth pony scowled, unable to hide the disgust on his face. It figured. This talented filly, judging by the newspaper articles, was bringing home prize money from several shooting competitions, all while her parents just collected and looked the other way. The very least they could do was simply be there for her, but apparently supporting their daughter wasn't very high on the list of priorities. Typical Los Pegasus ponies, he thought. It was a shame, really. But in the end, the stallion decided to bypass the topic. "Ya' know, just between you me, none o' these ponies here stand a chance against ya'."

The filly whipped her head back up to him, cocking an eyebrow. "What? Why would you tell me that? Aren't you competing too?"

The stallion laughed. "Naw. Ah'm gettin' on in years, and this is a young pony's sport. Ah'm just here fer the mayor to make sure nopony tries somethin' foul."

"Oh. Well, thank you sir," she said, fiddling with her rifle. The filly ceased her nervous movements and instead held out a hoof, introducing herself properly. "Aerial Ace. It's nice to meet you."

The stallion smiled, shaking her tiny forehoof with both of his own. "Bullet Tyme."

The sound of soft tapping echoed throughout the small range, emanating from the two large horn loudspeakers on either side of the announcer's box. The audience took a moment to quell their excitement, but eventually fell silent. Louder than expected, the horns reverberated a strong, prominent male voice.

"Mares and gentlecolts, welcome to the first annual Appleloosan Cowpony-Action Shooting Competition!" said Mayor Coltwell. The crowd burst into jubilant cries, eager with anticipation. "We thank you for your patience, but it's all about to pay off! Today we have twenty entries, which means plenty of shooting for you to watch!"

The crowd burst into an uproar of stomping hooves. "Considering this is the first Appleloosan competition, we're going to have to explain today's events and rules," Coltwell explained through the speaker system. "First off, we have to apologize for one thing. As you all have been told beforehoof, we have not allowed unicorns to compete in this event. This rule has been put into place the ensure that no foul play alters the shooters' prowess throughout the tournament. This is not by any means a racial matter. We only wish to keep the competition fair and uninterrupted by any means of inside or outside cheating. To safeguard the matter even further, there are magical shields set around the range to prevent any unicorn spectators from compromising the purity of this event. Once we find a way to confine a unicorn's magic, they will be allow to compete in next year's competition. Again, we apologize for this unfortunate matter."

Bullet Tyme pursed his lips and nodded slightly to himself. He had wondered how Coltwell planned to keep anypony from cheating. All a unicorn would have to do is wince an eye at a gun to jam it and therefore compromise a pony's fate in the game. It was truly an unfortunate rule, but objectively, nopony could have a viable argument against it.

"Now that we're done with the ethical mumbo-jumbo, we can move on to how things are going to unfold," Coltwell continued. "The tournament will include..."

Bullet Tyme stopped listening and started to cast his awareness to the nineteen ponies surrounding him and Aerial Ace. While a few of them kept their confidence, the majority of the shooters started to show signs of nervousness and apprehension. An air of trepidation filled the small alcove, as if some sort of apocalypse was about to occur. The sand-colored stallion chuckled slightly in amusement.

"What's so funny?" came Aerial's voice.

"Maybe these ponies do know who ya' are, and it's just now dawning on them how badly yer gonna beat 'em," he replied, his volume low to avoid any eavesdroppers. "But there might be one thing standin' in yer way."

"What's that?"

Bullet turned back to the filly, lowering his tone down to a whisper. "Ah wasn't lyin' when Ah told ya' that none o' the ponies in here stood a chance, but Ah'd feel bad if Ah didn't elaborate. Listen, there's a surprise at the end o' this here competition, and you should ready yerself fer it."

"Surprise?" she whispered back curiously. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"'Cause Ah think ya' deserve to know," he muttered matter-of-factly. "Just be ready when ya' rise to the top today. Yer gonna have a choice to make, a gamble if ya' will. Don't take it. Jus' take the prize money and be happy with it."

Aerial gave him an appreciative smile, which Bullet returned. It was a gesture that made him regret the mayor's idea of such a surprise at the end of an honest shooting match. None of the ponies surrounding him knew what they were in for, and it was really just too bad.

"...And now, we call our first two competitors up to the stands," said Coltwell's prominent voice. Bullet turned his ears to the announcer's box, his eyes occasionally flickering to the nervous ponies around him. "To start the tournament for a grand prize of one-thousand bits, we call Hot Shot and Smolder. Please approach the stands."

The crowd cheered with applause as a gray earth stallion and an orange earth mare rose from the bench a few yards away, gathering their rifles and departing the stone bunker through the wide opening. As the cheers died down and the crowd went silent, the two ponies exchanged a friendly hoof bump of respect, laying their weapons on the respective chest-high benches. Fifteen hooves away from them stood ten clay targets, each the size of a small dinner plate. Five were placed in even increments at both ends of their lanes, ready to be shattered to pieces. Bullet watched the mare with the bright orange coat, eying her stance and concentration. He went to inspect her weapon from afar, but found his attempt useless at the announcer's next words.

"First up, we have Hot Shot. Hailing all the way from Baltimare, this young and upcoming shooter has made his mark in the seldom-seen Eastern Riflepony Society with his quick and impressive shots."

"Looks like shootin' has become popular all over Equestria," Bullet Tyme noted aloud. "And not just out West where earth ponies thrive."

"It's not just about combat anymore," came Aerial's voice.

"Well, competition shootin's been around fer hundreds o' years. But it's really only been a thing out here."

"Up until the Colt of the West came around, that is," she remarked. "Ponies hear of a stallion like that and interest sparks. Common nature, really."

Bullet chuckled heartily, amazed at the young filly's intricate sentences and sheer intelligence. "Nothin' gets past ya', huh? Yer parents must be darned proud o' ya'."

"Yeah. Yeah I guess," she sighed, her previous grin fading away as quick as it came. Bullet Tyme cast her a sorrowful sidelong glance, watching the filly exhale a long breath. The stallion folded his forelegs against his chest, sitting straighter upon the wooden bench with a grimace. He may not have known of her situation, but it still pained the aged stallion to see such a talented, innocent young pony deal with such neglect. Perhaps it wasn't as it seemed, but perhaps it was much worse. Darned city folk.

"So it's 'bout yer love fer the sport?" he asked, curiously touching upon what was truly none of his business. To his surprise, the young pony immediately responded to his query.

"A little," she said, her voice soft and with a melancholy tone.

"Kinda hard to believe that such a talent doesn't have no drive behind it," said Bullet.

"Oh, there's a drive alright," she said, although without any sort of convincing tone. "It's just...money."

"Money?" he repeated, bewildered.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just because I'm from Los Pegasus means I must come from a rich family. I know the drill," she huffed.

"Ah didn't say that," Bullet said quietly. "But Ah'll admit that was my thought."

Aerial scrunched-up her nose a bit in a small scowl. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you that. Can you keep that to yourself?"

He nodded, regretfully putting the pieces together. "Don't tell me that yer prize money pays fer yer family...does it?"

The filly looked away from him, folding her tiny forelegs. She looked annoyed at herself, possibly for what she had revealed. The stallion silently berated himself for his assumptions. Her parents weren't stuffy, neglectful ponies, they weren't very well off. Regardless, the least they could do was simply be there for her in the stands. With that thought, Bullet still had something to be annoyed at, and that kept his mind busy for the time being.

"My parents are both unemployed," she started, but was silenced by Bullet, whom raised a hoof.

"Ain't none o' my business, Aerial," he said. "But Ah get it."

"...and then there's the local mare, born and raised here in Appleloosa: Smolder. She's here to defend her honor as the town's fastest-shooting mare, wielding a Marechester Model 1892, chambered for the .38-40 round. She will be the first to fire. Ladies first, I always say. The clock will start when the first round is chambered."

While the stallion known as Hot Shot waited with his rifle on his bench, the crowd as well as the rest of the competitors watched the orange mare load her short-barreled lever-action. Once Bullet counted the eight cartridges pass through the loading gate, he watched the mare take up a rather interesting stance. Smolder reared up on her hindhooves, one leg outstretched forward while the other crouched low underneath her. Instead of shouldering the weapon, Smolder held the Marechester low at the hip on her right side.

"Is that normal?" asked Aerial incredulously.

"Fer her it is," Bullet noted. "Not all ponies shoot the same way, ya' know. Some can't even hit the broad side of a barn with a 'normal' stance. Just watch."

The earth mare held the weapon close to her side, blowing her yellow bangs out of her eyes. Model 1892, huh? he thought. She switched, Ah guess. Shorter lever throw, smoother action, smaller and cheaper caliber for light recoil and higher magazine capacity. Nice change o' pace, but she'd need an octagonal barrel to make up fer its short length. If she loses, it'll be because o' accuracy. That boy's .45 Colt will deliver a heavier recoil. Judgin' by his small frame, s'not a good plan, Ah reckon.

However, the first round wasn't about accuracy; it was about speed. At only fifteen hooves away, the shots weren't exactly difficult, except for when they were at speed. All in all, the task wasn't as easy as it seemed. The targets were small for a reason; to challenge the pony to hit them as quickly as possible, disregarding pinpoint accuracy. Besides, a shattered plate of clay left no discerning marks indicating point of impact. Bullet Tyme remembered all too well of his rather poor skills when it came to speed shooting in his day. It was his biggest flaw, and he had never found the skill required to practice the finite art. So when he saw a pony capable of such a thing, the stallion found them to be truly fascinating.

A warm gust of wind blew down the range, ruffling the mare's burning yellow mane from her face. Bullet watched as she exhaled a silent breath, trained to know when and how to shoot. Once her chest deflated, the mare racked the lever downward and back quicker than most, firing the first shot as soon as the round loaded into the chamber. The rifle didn't move an inch as a loud pop echoed downrange, immediately followed by four more in impressive succession. In a couple of quick seconds, all five plates broke into many sharp, splintering shards of hardened clay, raining down from their stands a few hooves above the ground. The audience exploded with applause, whistling and stomping their hooves in praise. Smolder grinned broadly, placing the rifle upon the bench and waving politely to the crowd.

"See what Ah mean?" Bullet mused. "All it takes is fer a pony to find comfort with their rifle. Not to mention what the rifle is in the first place."

"What do you mean?" asked Aerial.

"Ah know Smolder from town," he started. "She came here a month after we founded Appleloosa, and immediately took an interest in the sport. She used to fire a .44 Magnum caliber, but that's a round too powerful to fire from the hip, where she was the most comfortable. Seems like she finally found a gun that she can shoot well."

"You seem to know a lot about rifles," she replied, offering a kind smile.

"This used to be my life, little Miss Aerial," he smirked nostalgically. "So yes, Ah know a thing or two."

"Is that why the mayor made you a security guard?"

Bullet chuckled softly. "Well, that's one reason, Ah reckon."

"Just the one?"

The stallion shot her an amused grin. "Ya' sure are a curious one, ain't ya'?"

"I like to know things," Aerial stated simply.

"Ah guess so," he replied, turning his attention back to the match. Apparently they had missed Hot Shot's attempt, but the end result was obvious by his downtrodden expression. Despite his early dismissal from the tournament, the stallion still shook the victor's hoof before he departed the range.

"So if you won't answer that question," Aerial continued. "then would you tell me about the Colt of the West?"

That caught Bullet Tyme off-guard, but he held it together by not showing it on his face. He looked to the young shooter, who wore an expression of pure wonder. Unlike her previous questions, it looked as if this one meant much more to her. "And what makes ya' think Ah know him?"

Aerial pointed to Smolder, whom was returning to her seat down the bench. "You know her, and you said that you helped settle this town, so I assume that you know a lot of ponies."

Did all Los Pegasus families have such intelligent foals? Perhaps the word 'prodigy' stretched farther with this filly than most. "Why d'ya wanna know 'bout him? Ponies say he's got criminal blood in him; say he's a tickin' time bomb waitin' fer somepony to look at him the wrong way."

The white filly looked down to the rifle in her forehooves, her hindlegs returning to their previous swinging motion. "I don't think that's true...or at least, I'd like to think it's not."

Bullet Tyme lowered his eyelids, a single brow raised in interest. He let her go on, ignoring the multiple gunshots in the background. "...Ponies will always make even the simplest things seem bad, especially when it's not true. Ponies don't want to focus on good deeds, they want to focus on things that are scary; things that are bad. Again, common nature, I guess."

"Kinda young to be a cynic, ain't ya'?"

"You say cynic, I say realist," she smirked, fiddling with the lever of her small rifle. "But really, nothing in the papers said that he did anything wrong. In fact, they said the exact opposite. They said he was a hero."

"Do you think he's a hero?"

"Well, yeah. Why shouldn't I?" she replied. "I mean, he did save Dodge Junction's sherrif, as well as the lives of the town's residents. He was the reason that bandit leader is still in jail."

"Ah see yer a reader of the papers. Most fillies yer age have no interest in things like that," Bullet said, his expression impressed.

"I don't tend to get along with ponies my age. They think I'm...well, weird," she said somberly, wincing at her own words. "Maybe it's because I'm not like them. I don't like playing in the park or hanging out with friends. Oh...I'm sorry. You don't want to hear about that."

The filly rubbed the back of her head nervously, dismissing the conversation outright.

"S'alright Aerial," was all that he said.

"So are you going to tell me about him?" she asked again. However, the end of her sentence was accompanied by the mayor calling her name through the speaker system. Aerial groaned aloud, eliciting a grin from Bullet Tyme.

"Well would ya' look at that, yer up filly," he said, rising to his hooves as she did. "Just in time too. Ah gotta head on over to speak with somepony."

Aerial threw him a mock salute before picking up her rifle with her teeth and walking out to the range. Bullet Tyme grinned one more time as he walked down the line of competitors, excusing himself along the way. He walked along the outside of the red fence, casting a quick glance to see Aerial Ace bumping hooves with her opponent; a dark-green pegasus mare. Bullet didn't recognize the pony, and merely assumed that she came from another town, like Hot Shot. Give 'em heck, kiddo, he thought to himself.

Bullet Tyme circled the South perimeter of the range, behind the rafters that held the long wooden bleachers high in the air. Between the stands was the announcers' booth, its back door opened at the top of a spiral staircase. The stallion grimaced, turning his right foreleg and cracking the old joints a few times before ascending the steps despite the throb in his leg. He would never admit it to anypony, but his joints weren't what they used to be. His reactions were starting to slow, his body was following suit. Bullet wasn't by any means an old stallion, but he was swiftly approaching the hump. Years of hard work and shooting were starting to show in his body, and soon simple tasks had become a chore. His mind, however, hadn't changed a bit since his early adulthood. His thoughts were still as sharp as ever, and his memory had never wavered. He only wished that his body would keep up with his racing mind.

As he rose to the top of the staircase, Bullet was immediately greeted by three ponies. Two came from swiveling stools behind a desk full of papers and quills dipped in ink wells. The closest to him was Sherrif Silverstar, a dark-tan earth stallion with a brown mane under his tall Stetson. His face was adorned with a curled mustache, at the end of his long muzzle. He wore a navy-blue vest and a red bandanna around his neck, his sherrif's badge gleaming in the sunlight. On the other end of the desk was Mayor Coltwell, a portly mint-coated stallion. He too wore a vest, his a dark maroon adorned with gold buttons. What was left of his brown mane was combed over, as if to hide the hair-free patch atop his head. Upon the short stallion's flank was an inkwell spilled over a slip of parchment, but what it represented, nopony knew. From his forehead protruded a short, stubby horn. However, despite his race, Coltwell was known to be vastly incompetent in terms of magic. In the eyes of the public, he might as well have been an earth pony.

"Well howdy there Bullet," said Silverstar, his voice high and thick with a cowpony accent. "How're the shooters doin' down there?"

"Too nervous to have a single foul thought," he smirked. "Won't have to worry 'bout none o' them doin' nothin' wrong."

"Good to hear," said Coltwell. "Do you think that anypony down there will out-shoot our little surprise today?"

Coltwell chuckled heartily, gesturing to the other pony in the room. Invisible from the eyes of the audience on the far side of the announcer's booth, a stallion stood on his hindlegs, leaning back against the wall with his forelegs crossed. The earth pony had a coat of gold, his long mane and tail toned with two shades of blonde. Atop his head was a dark brown Stetson, its color matching the duster around his torso. The jacket had a long mantle that draped over his shoulders and down to his elbows. The stallion's eyes were a bright, brilliant emerald, their lids low and tired-looking. Aside him was a Marechester rifle, in its scabbard and leaning on the wall. At the sight of his father, Braeburn dropped to all fours and greeted him with a nod, a small grin on his face.

"Howdy Pa," he said, although weakly. His eyes were dark, and he didn't emanate his usual uplifting air. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," he replied, knowing all too well what was going on in his son's mind. The matter had been discussed time and time again, and didn't need to be repeated here of all places.

"He could ask you the same question, Braeburn," said Coltwell with a grin. "You look terrible."

"Why thank ya' kindly, sir," he replied with a sigh. "Sleep hasn't come too easily."

"Well you better not be too tired to shoot, boy. I've got money riding on you!" Coltwell laughed, although without aid from the three ponies around him. Bullet Tyme cocked a suspicious eyebrow, his thoughts conveyed by the sheriff:

"Now Mayor, Ah know yer new to the town and all, but gamblin' is illegal here in Appleloosa."

"Oh Silverstar, you're too uptight sometimes," he smirked. "Technically we are outside of Appleloosa, therefore outside of its laws. Regardless, it's just a figure of speech."

Now why do Ah doubt that it's just talk? Bullet thought, holding back a scowl of disdain. Appointing Coltwell as the new mayor of Appleloosa wasn't exactly a popular decision, but he was ultimately better than his opponent. Appleloosa wasn't a town that really needed a mayor, due to its small size, but apparently there were reasons for it. Regardless, there was just something about the green unicorn that just didn't sit right with Bullet Tyme. Perhaps it was merely his own paranoia, but for now, he would be kept in close sights.

Coltwell returned his attention to the match below, as the two competitors waited for their round to begin. The mayor turned around on his stool and stumbled on his words as he hurriedly declared through the microphone: "O-Oh! Alright! Next up we have two pegasi, both here from Los Pegasus. First up is Lucky Lane, firing the Marelin Model 1894S, chambered for the rare .41 Magnum. The round is unusual and fairly pricey, but certainly gets the job done. After him, we have the favorite of Los Pegasus, the youngest competition shooter in Equestria; Aerial Ace!" The crowd whooped and cried out in applause, mostly from finite sections of the stands that weren't from Appleloosa. "Today she also wields a Marechester 1892. However, Aerial's weapon is the shorter carbine model, chambered for the .357 Magnum. First off is Lucky, fire when ready."

"Come 'ere boy, and watch this match," said Bullet, gesturing for his son to look. Abiding by Coltwell's wishes, Braeburn took a peek from afar, as to not let any pony see him from the window. "That white filly down there has some real talent. Smart little foal to boot."

"How d'ya know that?"

"Fer one, she's all over the papers outside o' town. Ah also had the pleasure to speak with her," Bullet explained. "She might be the next big thing in this here sport."

Braeburn replied with a yawn, his eyelids flickering open. "Might just be."

"Will ya' wake up? Ya' ain't gonna win by-" Bullet stopped mid-sentence. With that thought, an idea came to the stallion's mind; one that made him feel a surge of benevolence rarely found in his thoughts. He looked out of the corner of his eye to Aerial at the range below. She was so young; it wasn't right that she had to work so hard just to live. The filly couldn't have been more than ten years old, and yet she was the one supporting her household. Bullet Tyme dropped his expression of aggravation, instilling an odd look from Braeburn. He cocked an eyebrow at his father, his tired eyes tracing his face. "Come out here fer a second."

Bullet Tyme avoided the gazes of the sheriff and the mayor, grabbing the lapel of Braeburn's duster and dragging him outside. The beige stallion wordlessly followed his father down the spiral staircase, descending to the ground below. Once they were around the corner of the fence and out of earshot, Bullet stopped.

"Pa, are y'alright?"

"Yeah, nothin' wrong at all. Just listen fer a second," he explained, keeping his voice low. Bullet gestured to the range next to them; to the white filly raising her Marechester to the targets down the lane. "Ah talked to that filly fer a bit before Ah came back out here. D'ya know why she's goin' through all these competitions?"

"Fer fame? 'Cause it's a fun little sport?" Braeburn suggested with tired sarcasm, smirking despite himself.

"'Cause she has to, boy," he answered gravely, continuing on to retell the conversation her had with the small pegasus. When he was done, Braeburn winced slightly, casting a sympathetic gaze towards the range.

"Ah got an idea," he said. Bullet raised his brow, his eyelids low. "Ya' told her not to accept the challenge, right? Well, go tell her to take it."

Bullet furrowed his brow this time, his head recoiling back. "Have ya' lost yer head out in the sun, boy? That's not what Ah'm tryin' to-"

Braeburn held up a hoof to stop him. "Like ya' said Pa: Ah'm tired. You'll never know if it'll affect my shootin'."

The older stallion went to retort, but then quickly grasped his son's idea. His chest deflated with a long snort, turning into a hearty chuckle. For the first time all week, Bullet smiled at his son. "Good thinkin', boy."

"Either way, Coltwell paid us up front," Braeburn grinned, pointing to the stone bunker behind Bullet. "Aerial's round is over, go on and convince her to take it. Ah'll be up with Silverstar and Coltwell."

Braeburn turned on a hoof back toward the staircase, but wasn't able to depart before his father called after him. The beige earth pony looked over his shoulder, his eyes falling unfocused upon the older stallion. Bullet Tyme sighed at the sight of his exhausted son, dropping the gritty veil. Berating him wasn't going to help anymore. "Chin up, boy. Things'll work out."

His son looked forward and away from him, dropping his head slightly. "Uh huh," he said, although without sincerity.

"Hey, just because ya' moved out doesn't mean that yer not still my son," said Bullet, his tone truthful. Braeburn seemed to chew on that for a moment before turning his head back to his father.

"And what's that mean?"

"It means that Ah still care 'bout ya'," he continued. "Ah know that you've got yer own thing goin' on nowadays, but yer still my son and my top worker. Are ya' gonna be alright, Braeburn?"

"Ah...Ah sure hope so, Pa," he chuckled, finally looking Bullet in the eye again. "Either way, Ah'll make sure Aerial gets her money. Ah hope this is fer a good cause."

"Darn tootin'," Bullet grinned. "And don't worry Braeburn, she'll come back."

The beige stallion offered a halfhearted smile before returning to the announcer's box above. Bullet Tyme huffed, although not without a sense of understanding. He knew all too well the pain of heartache, even if it was a different kind of pain. At least she didn't leave without giving them a gift first; a gift that not only brought their family business back from the grave, but also granted them financial comfort. Never before had Bullet Tyme felt so at ease in terms of money. A small fortune will do that. Even if it was at the cost of revealing an unfortunate heritage, it was all worth it. He knew that Braeburn appreciated the mare's parting gift, but the stallion hadn't seen his son so lonely and somber before. The ups and downs of a miracle, as it were.

Bullet Tyme shook his head, clearing his mind to return to the task at hoof. He looked up to find Aerial Ace returning to a small gathering of cheering competitors in the stone bunker ahead. A couple of them even shook her hoof or simple gaped at her in awe. The stallion smiled at the sight. At least they were being friendly. Bullet adjusted the strap of his rifle's scabbard and continued forward, hoping that Aerial would make it to the final round.

The competition had proved to be quite entertaining, to say the least. Even in his exhausted state of mind, Braeburn found his eyes glued to the range below. Throughout the many shooters, rounds and events, he grew more and more excited. While he hoped that the white filly from Los Pegasus climbed to the top, a part of him didn't care who it was. The stallion just wanted to shoot against somepony. Watching them compete stirred an adrenaline that he hadn't felt in a long time. He didn't wish to showcase his talents, for that had been done before. Despite his mild disdain toward his own fame, he was still known as the infamous riflepony of Appleloosa; the Colt of the West.

Every time that title had been uttered, Braeburn felt a grimace form on his face. He knew what he stood for, but not everypony shared the same idea. Once word had spread of his lineage, judgement had instantly fallen upon him. While some saw him as a goodhearted stallion, others saw him as some sort of threat. It was as if they expected him to snap at some point and rob a bank or something similar. Unfortunately, that was simply how ponies worked. An infamous criminal for an ancestor? Well then he must be a terrible pony himself. Perhaps that notion was just easier to take in rather than objectivity.

Braeburn tore his mind from such unpleasent thoughts, and instead returned his attention to the competition below. It appeared that he hadn't focused on anything around him for the better part of two hours. He looked to the sun through the observation windows to find it just past its apex, confirming his guess. Braeburn shook his carelessly-long mane from the side of his face, far too tired to scratch his itchy cheek. As he awoke from his melancholy stupor, his ears pricked up at the amplified sound of Coltwell's voice:

"...and now we finally arrive at the conclusion to this truly amazing competition! We've watched plenty of vastly-talented rifleponies shoot their way through this event, but only two remain to fight for the grand prize of one-thousand bits! We now call Smolder and Aerial Ace to the range. Load your rifles to capacity and come on down!"

Braeburn raised his eyebrows at the names, pleased to hear that Aerial had made it this far. He looked to his left to find Bullet Tyme, shaking his head at him. "Daydreamin' boy? Starin' off wistfully at the floor ain't gonna show ya' what's goin' on."

"Noted," he said quietly, shaking his head in an attempt to lighten the weight in his eyelids. He looked up to find Coltwell and Silverstar busying themselves with a few scraps of parchment; perhaps paperwork of some kind. Taking advantage of their distraction, Braeburn leaned closer to his father, whispering through his teeth: "Ya' think she'll win?"

"Hopin' so, or else Ah told her to take a challenge she won't have the chance to accept," he whispered back. Braeburn nodded, returning his gaze to the range below.

The benches had been removed from the long expanse of dry flatland, as well as the small barrier that separated the individual lanes. Now the mare and the filly stood at least one-hundred yards away from five red, circular targets, standing in a horizontal line thirty hooves from the ground upon wooden stands. He had previously been briefed on the challenges from Mayor Coltwell, but he still found this one to be peculiar, although interesting. The mere distance of the shots alone was challenging, but then the height of the targets was a factor worth consideration. It was a simple difference, but one that would completely throw an untrained shooter off their narrow line of equilibrium. The majority of rifleponies trained with level targets, situated only so many hooves off the ground. One would rarely think to practice with higher shots, especially at this distance.

Down below, the light-orange mare slung her rifle over her shoulder, blowing her vibrant yellow bangs out of her eyes. She sat down on her haunches, watching as Aerial Ace took up her weapon. Coltwell took then completed his announcements for the final match:

"This last round combines speed, accuracy and also dealing with unforeseen circumstances. This may seem like an easy task, but let me assure you that it's not."

"The hay kind of announcin' is that?" Bullet jibed aloud, catching the mayor's sidelong gaze. Coltwell smirked with only the slightest amount of annoyance. "Ya' sound like yer not sure o' what yer talkin' 'bout."

Braeburn and Silverstar snickered audibly, forcing fits of laughter back down their throats.

"...Up first is Aerial Ace. Shoot all five targets as quick as possible. Time penalties will be taken for every shot missed. Her time will start when the first round is chambered. Fire when ready."

The white filly reared up on her hindhooves, throwing her short rifle around her hoof, racking it in the same motion. Braeburn couldn't help but smile at that. He had thought that he was the only one who performed that trick. In the instant that the front stock of the small rifle fell into her left forehoof, the weapon barked five times in a mere three seconds, accompanied by the distant tings of the rounds colliding with the metal targets. Braeburn felt his eyebrows lift, impressed by the rapid display. At the last shot, Coltwell stopped the ticking watch upon the desk.

"Well look at that! All five shots completed in a matter of three seconds on the dot! Impressive work indeed! Next up is Smolder, here to defend her honor as the fastest mare in the-"

But even Coltwell's amplified voice didn't overcome the earthshaking boom that resounded over the desert. For a moment, time stood still, and nopony spoke nor moved an inch. Braeburn felt a cold shiver shoot up his spine as trepidation flooded his veins. He whipped his head around and looked through the door that led to the spiral staircase. To the North stood the short buildings of Appleloosa, only about half a mile away from the range. The stallion immediately spotted a cloud of dust and smoke forming above the West side of the small town, where the sheriff's office was. Adrenaline awoke his tired mind as the crowd behind him started crying out in shock. Braeburn turned back to the three ponies around him, staring at the sheriff.

"Silverstar, who did ya' have take watch over Appleloosa?!" he asked, perhaps louder than he intended.

"My brother sent his Deputy from Dodge!" he replied, his voice wavering. "Ah thought he knew what he was doin'!"

Braeburn's emerald eyes widened as realization washed over him. The sheriff wasn't aware of Deputy Conners' incompetence, and it probably just cost the inexperienced stallion his life.

The beige stallion turned on a hoof, throwing his sheathed rifle over his shoulder and bolting out the door, his father close behind. In his haste, Braeburn disregarded the height and leaped over the railing, his duster billowing in the air behind him. As the ground came closer, the stallion braced his shoulders and turned his head down. Braeburn rolled across the ground, digging his hindhooves into the sand and kicking off into a full gallop.

"Always gotta be the hero, huh boy?" came the gruff voice of his father alongside him.

"Darn Silverstar! Puttin' Conners of all ponies in charge o' town!" Braeburn grimaced, ignoring Bullet's sarcasm. "That stallion won't touch a gun but he expects to uphold the law?"

"Braeburn!" Bullet retorted. "Calm yerself, boy! Y'ain't helpin' nopony with yer anger!"

The beige earth pony growled to himself, knowing full and well that his father was right. With a snort, he shoved his adrenaline aside and did his best to focus to the task at hoof. He paced himself, slowing down to reserve as much strength as he could. Bullet Tyme huffed, seemingly appreciative at the speed difference.

Up ahead, the cloud of smoke rose higher above Appleloosa, growing larger as more black smog billowed from the town. As they reached the outskirts of the small settlement, their ears pricked up to the echoing sounds of fearful screams. What in Equestria was going on? The West finally had a year of undisturbed peace, and now this? As far as Braeburn knew, their weren't any bandits left since the fall of Sure Shot and his gang. But then again, that didn't mean that more wouldn't pop up in their absence.

The two earth stallions arrived at the edge of town, stopping in an alley between the barber shop and the local tavern. Braeburn's mind raced, searching for an answer as to what was going on. The smoke was rising over to the left, the tell-tale sign of a large amount of dynamite. He leaned against a stack of barrels, panting heavily.

"That's right over Silverstar's office," Bullet noted, pointing to the rising smoke. "Somepony's tryin' to harm him, Ah reckon."

"Ah hope Conners ain't there," said Braeburn. He stepped carefully out and into the main road, looking Westward to find the source of the smoke. His fears had been confirmed at the sight of Silverstar's office. The front of the small building was completely gone, splinters of wooden debris scattered across the dirt road. Dying flames burned around the office; remnants of the explosion. A few ponies were seen fleeing the area, taking cover in their homes and closing the shades. Braeburn felt a hoof wrap around his neck, pulling him back into the alleyway.

"What're ya' doin', boy?!" Bullet hissed. "D'ya wanna end up dead? We can't just run in there guns a' blazin'! We gotta be careful and plan out our moves! We don't know who's in there!"

"Ugh, yer right. Ah know," Braeburn growled, annoyed at his own haste. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long.

"Ah said on the ground!" came a low, powerful male voice. Braeburn turned his head around the corner of the barber shop, peeking out to find three ponies next to the sheriff's office. The voice evidently belonged to the short stallion, standing on hindhooves over a male and female; both pegasi. They both had coats of light beige, the mare's almost white. The stallion's mane was long and black, the other's multiple shades of brown. They wore brightly-colored, floral-patterned shirts, giving them the looks of tourists. The bandit held a large blunderbuss, pointing its funneled barrel to the backs of their heads. His coat was black as night, but still didn't hide the rippling muscle underneath his skin. His orange mane and tail were cut short, adding another level of intimidation to the bulky stallion. The couple shivered in fear under his rifle, their hooves over their heads.

Visible through the gaping hole of the office were a few more bandits, wearing red bandannas over their muzzles. They seemed to be searching for something, for they were tearing through the remnants of the building, flipping over desks and chairs in an attempt to find whatever they were looking for.

"What do ya' reckon they want?" asked Braeburn.

"They're lookin' fer somethin'...but what?" Bullet thought aloud. "Think they're workin' fer Sure Shot?"

Braeburn cocked an eyebrow. "What? Sure Shot ain't even bein' kept there any more. He's held outside o' Dodge Junction."

Bullet then finished the thought. "Yeah, and the keys to his underground cell are kept in Silverstar's office!"

"But if these ponies are tryin' to get him out, how in the hay did they figure out where we hid 'em?"

"We'll figure that out after we save those two hostages," Bullet replied, looking back out to the two pegasi laying on their stomachs. "Oh no."

"What's wrong, Pa?"

"Two pegasi we've never seen before, dressed up like they're from outta town," he growled. "Aerial told me that her parents were hangin' 'round Appleloosa."

Braeburn's eyes flew open, realization dawning upon him.

"We gotta save 'em, boy. Ah can't let that filly lose her parents."

"Right," the beige stallion said, immediately forming a plan.

Ignoring his father's words, Braeburn climbed up the stacks of barrels, jumping up and grabbing a hold of the edge of the tavern's roof. With a huff, he pulled himself up and onto the slanted shingles. The stallion looked back down to his father below, whispering: "Wait here and cover me if somethin' goes wrong."

"What d'ya think yer doin'? Get back down here!" he hissed back, his expression livid.

"Sorry Pa, but if we don't help them, nopony will get here in time," Braeburn replied, turning back around and running across the rooftop. There were three buildings separating him from the sheriff's office, and he had to cross them without being detected. Braeburn crept low over the shingles, wincing with every thump his hooves made. He cast a careful glance over the edge of the roof, finding the black stallion and his hostages grow closer with every step. He found himself stopping at the sight of the muscular pony, his mind alight with a certain memory. That black coat, his bright-orange mane...Braeburn knew the stallion, and trepidation washed over him once he recognized him.

He remembered how the large bandit struck a mare directly in the cheek, a mare that he hadn't seen in over a year. He remembered exploding into a rage, his blood boiling in his veins. This was one of Sure Shot's old followers, and that could only mean one thing: They were trying to break him out.

Braeburn gritted his teeth, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, gaining every yard he could to see what was going on. Sure, he could have easily disarmed the stallion from the opposite side of town, but then what stopped the others from taking out their hostages? That, and he couldn't simply shoot them. He had to pan his shots, and make sure that he avoided killing them if possible. He may have been an upholder of the law, but he was by no means an executioner. As he walked across the bakery next to the destroyed building, he crept low and crawled on his stomach. He silently unsheathed the rifle from his back, keeping it underneath his forehooves.

"Please! We haven't done anything wrong!" cried the pegasus mare. "We don't even live here! We were just-"

"Ah don't care what ya' say wench," the black stallion growled. "Ah'm keepin' ya' here fer insurance. Now keep quiet!"

Braeburn stopped dead in the middle of racking the lever of his weapon, his eye twitching. Insurance? The pieces started to come together now. They had to have known about the nationally-advertised competition, which gave them the best opportunity to strike. All they would have to do was take care of Silverstar, which they didn't need to do. So with Silverstar 'gone,' why would they need hostages for 'insurance'? Because of him; the Colt of the West. It only made sense to take such a precaution. To criminals, he was known as a threat; the pony that put Sure Shot behind bars. But why would they keep hostages out in the open like this? More than likely to broadcast them to any possible law enforcement, or even him.

"They're not in here!" came a voice from the interior of the office.

"Check again!"

"We've 'checked again' three times now! Silverstar must have moved them!"

The large stallion engaged his blunderbuss, shoving the barrel to the back of the male pegasus' head. "Did you two move 'em?"

"Gah! Move what?!" he cried into the dirt. "We're just visiting from Los Pegasus! We're not cops!"

Their captor snorted, a dirty scowl forming on his face. He turned his head back to his unseen comrades. "Did ya' get anything from that blank-flank pony?"

Braeburn grimaced. Conners; they had him too. At least he was still alive.

"He don't know nothin' boss," came the previous voice. "Just some stupid guard dog fer Silverstar."

"Well hurry it up in there! Coltwell only gave us so much time!"

What? What?!

Braeburn's mind spun in his head, alight with confusion. However, he didn't have time to speculate, for something cold and metallic pressed against the back of his head.

"Ahhh...Braeburn Apple, I presume."

Two - Of Many Names

A cold sense of fear was the first sensation that ran through the stallion's mind. The second was bewilderment, as he wondered how in Equestria somepony had been able to sneak up on him. He was sure that he had spread his awareness to every inch of his surroundings. But evidently, he could have been more careful. Adrenaline had fueled his seemingly wary steps, a mistake that had ruined the entire plan. Despite his innate rifle prowess and infamy, Braeburn had never been in any direct line of fire, let alone held at gunpoint. He didn't know what to do. The stallion's mind simply shut down as a sense of dread dictated his limited brain activity. All he could focus on was his captor's voice; his odd, unfamiliar voice.

His tones weren't accented with a Western drawl, but with sophistication instead. His words were perfectly articulated, as if he was a professional speaker or announcer of some sort. It was a voice he had never heard before, and that was what scared him the most. But one more thing that worried the stallion was that his captor had yet to announce his catch to the bandits below, whom were out of eyesight from the upward angle of the rooftop. Was this pony working with the others? Braeburn decided to clear his throat after a silent gulp, asking the obvious question: "Who are you?"

The stallion behind him hummed a low chuckle. "Well, there's a good question," he said, his voice quiet, as if to avoid detection. "You actually know my name, but not who I am. The funny thing is, I know both about you. You are a stallion of many names, Braeburn Apple. Such infamy for such a young pony."

Braeburn's eye twitched as he formed a harsh scowl, his chin pressed into a shingle from the barrel of the gun. "Ya' didn't answer my question. Who are ya'?"

"Oh? It hasn't clicked just yet? Are you missing a piece to the puzzle?" said the stallion, chuckling once more. Clearly he enjoyed the sound of his own voice. "Rather than simply telling you, I wish for you to figure it out yourself."

"And why would ya' want that?" asked Braeburn, buying as much time as he could. He looked at the Marechester underneath his forelegs, its lever open and halfway through loading a long, .30-30 cartridge. But with the barrel of a rifle pressed against the back of his head, Braeburn couldn't think of a way out of his predicament.

"An even better question. However, it's not the one you should be asking. You had it right the first time. But don't ask me, ask yourself."

"What good does that do?" asked Braeburn, growing steadily annoyed.

"More than you think, Braeburn," said the unknown stallion. "I believe that the two of us are going to become great friends, but not at first. No, we must be rivals before we can become allies."

"What makes ya' think Ah'd be yer friend?" Braeburn growled. "Yer workin' with them bandits down there, that much is obvious. Ah don't befriend criminals."

"Hmmhmm...No, no you do not," he sighed, although not without an audible snicker. "But that's where you are wrong about me. Now, it's understandable. You've seen me do some seemingly terrible things; things that one could only describe as criminal. However, you've never stopped to think of my reasoning. Maybe I'm not just some blinded robber; taking things without paying for them merely because I'm just that evil. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I have something planned? That I was more than just some street rat?"

Braeburn chewed on that for a moment. Instead of immediately answering, he contemplated everything that the stallion had said. He wasn't attempting to instill more questions by mentioning the reasons for his deeds; he was still guiding Braeburn toward the riddle he needed to solve. His captor said that Braeburn knew his name, and that he had seen him commit crimes. One answer immediately came to mind, but it didn't make any sense. However, it was the only one that was close.

"So, I've given you all the pieces, now you just need to put them together."

"Ah already have," Braeburn grinned in spite of the block of ice that had formed in his stomach. "And now Ah have another question: How'd ya break out this time, Sure Shot?"

He could almost hear his captor's smile. "See? I knew that you would figure it out. You'll be a fine addition to the family soon enough."

"Like Ah said, Ah don't befriend the likes o' you," Braeburn growled again. He looked over to the right, straining his eyes in an attempt to find his backup plan. But at the same time, he wanted to know just how Sure Shot had escaped from a high-security vault ten yards underground. "So how'd ya' do it this time? Did ya' pull some kinda Hoofdini or somethin'?"

"Pretty difficult for an earth pony, I'd imagine," Sure Shot commented with an air of snark. "But no; just some careful planning with some friends in high places."

Braeburn winced at his words. It didn't make any sense. Why would Sure Shot tell him all of this? Why wasn't he calling out to his friends below? Surely they would want to know that the stallion they were trying to free had already escaped his imprisonment. There were far too many questions to be asked now, and Braeburn needed to figure out what to do about his current situation. He would decipher Sure Shot's reasoning later, if he didn't answer the question immediately.

"So then, what's the plan?" asked the beige stallion. "And what d'ya plan on doin' with me? What's stoppin' me from turnin' 'round and shootin' 'ya?"

"Even if you were somehow faster than me, you wouldn't dare, Braeburn Apple," he replied, confidence in his answer. "I know your kind; brave, tenacious...but weak. You have rules, Colt of the West. I need to change that about you. How will I do that? Hehehe...in time, that's how. But first, I have a little errand to run, and you're not going to stop me this time."

At the end of his sentence, Braeburn heard the signature sound of an enormous cartridge riding along a metal carrier and into its chamber, accompanied by the snap of a lever finding its home. But it didn't come from the rifle pressed against the back of his head, but from the right, perhaps ten yards away. Nopony would have had time to react to the sound, for a deafening bang resounded over the rooftops immediately after. Before he knew it, the cold metal of the barrel had disappeared from his head as a loud crack rang in his ears. Only vaguely aware of the event unfolding around him, Braeburn rolled over, swinging Thumper around as he finished loading the round. But before he could find his target, it had already leaped directly over him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Braeburn could see a short-barreled rifle skidding across the rooftop, a mangled hole cut directly through its thick steel receiver. But he didn't have time to gape in awe. The riflepony rolled to his hooves, Thumper's iron sights immediately finding the purple stallion falling to the ground below. To his surprise, Sure Shot was aiming a second rifle directly at him, already drawn from one of the two scabbards on his back. His mind went into overdrive as he pointed his rifle's barrel in the general direction of the stallion, unable to get a clear shot so quickly. Braeburn hoped to Celestia that it wouldn't be a lethal impact as Thumper shook the roof underneath him, barking as a lightning-fast tongue of flame lashed out of the end of the barrel. But the round never struck its target.

In the middle of his fall, Sure Shot flipped over and fired off a single round. Between the shooters was a small explosion of sparks, followed by the whizzing sound of ricocheting bullets. Braeburn's eyes flew open in disbelief as his opponent landed perfectly on the ground, grinning up at him victoriously. The riflepony froze, completely dumbstruck. The purple earth pony had deflected a bullet with his own, and in the middle of a twenty-hoof fall. Not only that, but he landed without a single misstep. Judging by the smug look on his face, Sure Shot hadn't done any of that on accident.

The group of bandits down below gasped at their leader's sudden presence, a few of them grinning like mad. Braeburn racked a new round as his father skidded to a halt next to him, ejecting a shell of his own. Despite the fact that their location had been revealed, the ponies below hadn't done a thing about it. Instead, they all seemed to gather around Sure Shot, elated that their leader was free once again.

"What the hay? Who let ya' out, Shotty?"

"Who cares? He's free and we can get outta here!"

"Not while Ah'm around," Braeburn declared over the street, catching their attention. The black stallion still held Aerial's parent's at gunpoint, but still snarled at the sight of the beige riflepony. His eyes gleamed with hate, and Braeburn returned it with a determined glare. A few of Sure Shot's friends emerged from the depths of the destroyed building below, forming a loose circle around their leader. None of them moved, but none of them looked afraid either. In fact, they all wore the same stupid grin on their face, as if Thumper were a squirt gun. "All y'all with guns, drop 'em on the ground!"

Another chuckle was shared by the five stallions below, Sure Shot's voice more prominent than the rest. "What did I tell you, Braeburn? You aren't going to stop me, because you simply cannot. In fact..." he trailed off. The purple stallion threw aside his rifle, standing up on his hindhooves and spreading his forelegs wide. "...If I'm wrong, then prove it! You and I both know that no cell in Equestria can hold me, so taking my life would be the only option, wouldn't it? So go on! Do it!"

Sure Shot's grin was that of an insane pony, his eyes daring Braeburn to pull the trigger. "Come on! Kill me!"

"Braeburn," said Bullet's voice next to him. "That last shot Ah fired jammed my rifle. Ya' have to do it. Jail won't hold a pony like him."

"What?!" Braeburn hissed out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes momentarily darting to the rifle in his father's hooves. To his horror, he found that Bullet had been all too right. The lever of the gun was halfway opened, allowing the bolt to slide backward, revealing the innards of the receiver. A large, spent .45-70 cartridge was lodged midway into the chamber, the rim of the brass chewed by a damaged carrier. It was indeed a heavy-caliber rifle, but one that clearly wasn't made to last such as a Marechester.

"Don't worry 'bout yer shakin' hooves," Bullet continued. "Yer shootin' a .30-30, remember? That bullet will kill him no matter where ya' put it."

With that thought, Braeburn gasped inwardly. Despite the obvious reason for the gun's name, he had forgotten about the sheer power of the round that Thumper fired. It didn't have the force of a .45-70 like his father's weapon, but it was still deadly in its own right. Even if he were to hit the purple stallion in the leg, the impact would kill him from blood loss alone...and he had already fired one of those massive rounds at him. Braeburn felt another ball of ice form in the pit of his stomach as a terrible revelation dawned upon him. It didn't matter what Sure Shot had done, Braeburn could have killed him, and he couldn't bring himself to deal with such a horrid deed. Taking a criminal's life was not his job, not by any stretch of the imagination.

"What are you waiting for, Colt of the West?! Show your worth and take me out!" Sure Shot bellowed, his voice echoing across the town.

Braeburn gritted his teeth, rage building inside him as his mind struggled to face the decision in front of him. He didn't want this; any of this. He didn't ask to become the vigilante that he was forced to be. But in the face of a criminal such as this, Braeburn didn't have any choice. Silverstar couldn't take him down with his phobia of weaponry, and his father's rifle was out of commission. It all came down to him; the once gentle and jubilant farmer. Thumper's sights were set between the purple stallion's glinting yellow eyes, and his shaking hoof was wrapped around the trigger. It wouldn't be difficult, even with the other four ponies below. The riflepony would be able to take them all down before any of them could blink an eye. So why wasn't he doing it? What was so difficult about pulling the trigger?

Guilt. Pain. Morality. Braeburn couldn't take another life, and the bandits knew that now. Sure Shot grinned once more, falling back to all fours and sheathing the discarded rifle on his back. He chuckled, casting aside his matted black mane with a hoof. "Like I said, you're still weak, Braeburn. But I will change that about you, in due time," he said before turning to a short, blue stallion behind him. "Get us out of here, Sparks. Oh, and Gun Powder? Leave those two. We have no reason to kill them."

The large black stallion grimaced with a grunt, disarming his rifle and nodding. The blue pony known as Sparks removed his large cowpony hat, revealing a long, thin horn separating his teal mane. Sure Shot turned his head back up to Braeburn and Bullet Tyme, giving them a sarcastic wave. "Well, we're off. But I'm sure you and I will see each other again."

Just as he uttered his final goodbye, Sure Shot and his allies disappeared in a violent flash of azure light. The spell was bright, forcing the two stallions to shield their eyes. Braeburn blinked a few times, his vision returning quicker than he expected. He looked down to the charred spot of dirt road below, anger flooding his veins. His blood boiled, forcing the beige stallion to vent his rage by slamming the butt of his rifle against the rooftop, being rewarded with a fine crack through the shingles underhoof. Braeburn fell to his haunches, his head and forelegs supported by Thumper. He rapped his forehead against the damaged wooden forestock, clamping his eyes shut in anger. "Darn it!" he growled, disgusted by his own weakness.

"Braeburn, calm yerself!" his father exclaimed next to him. "We ain't gonna make no headway if ya' sit here mopin'!"

"What d'ya want me to do?!" he retorted. "That pony is free again, and Ah couldn't do a thing to stop him! Ah had the chance, right in my hooves...but Ah couldn't do it..."

Braeburn's anger faded into something more somber as he finished his sentence. His grip on the rifle supporting him faltered, and his torso slouched forward. But his bout of self-loathing only lasted the briefest of moments as he felt himself being dragged back to his hooves by the collar of his duster. Bullet Tyme forcibly turned his head to his with a hoof, glaring straight into Braeburn's eyes. "Did ya' ferget 'bout Coltwell, boy?! It's obvious he's workin' with those bandits, now let's get back to the range and nab him already!"

"What?" came a new voice from below. Both stallions looked down from the rooftop to find Sheriff Silverstar emerging from the alleyway that they had previously hidden away in. The fur on his face looked ruffled, as if he were in some sort of altercation. "Is that why he just disappeared all of a sudden?"

Braeburn felt his teeth snap together in a spasm of anger, but his father was the first to respond: "What d'ya mean he just disappeared?!"

"As soon as y'all took off, Coltwell's horn lit up and he just...disappeared!" Silverstar explained hurriedly, his voice strained with worry. "He must'a used some sorta spell or somethin'!"

"So he's not entirely incompetent with magic. Figures," Bullet Tyme growled, more to himself than anypony else. "Is everypony back at the range alright?"

"Yeah, o' course," the sheriff replied before looking back to the alleyway he had appeared from. "Come on out now, everything's safe now."

Braeburn watched as a small, white pegasus filly emerged from the alley, her rifle secured on her back in a scabbard. Her bright blue eyes immediately found her parents, whom were still getting to their hooves in front of the demolished sheriff's office. The riflepony sighed inwardly, berating himself for forgetting about the two former hostages.

"Mom! Dad!" Aerial Ace cried out in relief as she darted over to her parents, immediately accepted into a tight embrace. The three other stallions watched for a moment, taking in just how lucky the pegasi were to be alive. Braeburn snarled inwardly at himself, taking no solace in the fact that they were able to save their lives. He couldn't explain it, but the riflepony simply could not stop hating himself for not taking the action he needed to. Because of his hesitation to do what was right, they now had a dangerous enemy free and out to reap havoc wherever he pleased. Objectivity was a lost virtue at this point as agitation filled his mind.

"Silverstar," said Bullet Tyme, catching the attention of the ponies below, and not just the sheriff's. "Conners is still in yer office. Ah reckon ya' might wanna see if he's alright. We got work to do."

The beige stallion remained silent, even as his eyes were caught by the bewildered gaze of the white filly below. Her eyes grew wide as she identified him in the middle of her parents' embrace. On any other day, he would have given her a kind smile. But today, he couldn't even bring himself to feign a grin, or even a simple nod. Instead, Braeburn turned away and followed his father off the roof and back down to the dirt road below. Both stallions sheathed their rifles before descending. Bullet Tyme quietly led his son away from the scene, wearing the most subtle of scowls.

But as fate would have it, Braeburn heard somepony call his name. Before he could turn around completely, his eyes had landed upon Aerial and her parents trotting after them. The stallion sighed through his nose as they approached him, all wearing appreciative looks. The filly's eyes were bright with awe, as if she were meeting her idol or somepony similar.

"Brae-oh! I mean, Mister Apple?" she started her voice excited and nervous. "I just wanted to thank you for saving my parents."

Bullet Tyme made a covert motion for Braeburn to keep it quick, to which he nodded slightly in response. "Ah didn't do nothin' but what was right. If Ah were y'all, Ah'd get on the next train outta here. T'aint safe 'round these parts fer the time bein'."

"We plan to," said the filly's mother, her voice smooth and elegant. "But we just wanted to make sure that we thanked you two first. If you weren't around, I'm not sure if we would be now."

Braeburn couldn't so much as look any of them in the eye. Despite the fact that he had accomplished his goal of keeping them alive, he still felt guilty for not being able to pull the trigger. For all anypony knew, Sure Shot would return to Appleloosa at any time.

"That's real kind o' ya'. Ah hate to be rude, but we gotta go and make sure this doesn't happen again. Make sure y'all get outta here as soon as possible."

The riflepony turned around with a meek wave of his hoof, following his father away from the scene. Braeburn could hear the pegasi murmur something from behind, but he didn't care enough to cast his ears back. He simply walked in Bullet Tyme's wake back towards the desert, the barriers of the firing range in the distance. Before he knew it, the gruff stallion stopped suddenly, turning around to face his son. Braeburn looked at him curiously, the expression on his haggard face unreadable.

"Look," he started, grabbing his attention. "Ah get it, Braeburn; ya' couldn't bring yerself to do it. Ah ain't mad at ya'. If anything, Ah'm actually a mite proud. But fer now, we gotta push our own problems aside and find out what that maniac is plannin'."

"Don't mean to be rude or nothin' Pa, but...since when d'ya care about upholdin' the law? Ya' always told me to let the sheriff take care o' that," Braeburn asked.

"Yeah, when it's somethin' small like a pickpocket or somethin'," Bullet countered flatly. "But somepony like Sure Shot out and about on his own undeserved freewill? Silverstar ain't doin' nothin' that could stop the likes o' him, and you know that."

"But what about the farm?" Braeburn argued, more to fuel his curiosity about the well-being of the family business. "Aren't ya' worried 'bout-"

"Braeburn!" Bullet snarled, pushing his face directly in front of his. "The most feared bandit in the West just escaped a maximum-security underground vault, reunited with his inner circle, which included a unicorn fer Pete's sake, and just disappeared! So why in the hay are ya' thinkin' 'bout the darned farm for?!"

Bullet Tyme backed away a mere inch, glaring at his son. Braeburn was taken aback, unaware of what to say. The older stallion paused for a beat, continuing after a snort of hot air: "Look boy, Ah didn't wanna do this, but yer not leavin' me any choice. Yer judgment is still foggy from mopin' 'round as much as you've been. Ah'm goin' off to make sure everypony at the range gets home safe and sound, but yer gonna take some time off."

"What?"

"Ya' heard me, boy," Bullet confirmed. "Go home, take a walk, whatever ya' need to do to get yer darned brain workin' again!"

"Pa, Ah can't do that!" Braeburn retorted, the slightest note of anger rising in his voice. "Ya'll need help trackin' down those-"

"Yeah, yer right," his father interrupted again, his overall demeanor resolute. "We do need help, plenty of it. But right now yer not the help Ah'm lookin' for. Ah need ya' to get back to yer old self so ya' can be."

The riflepony went to open his mouth, but found himself biting his tongue instead, his gaze falling to the dry ground between them. As much as he hated to admit it, his father was right; Braeburn was not in a stable mindset right now. He was conflicted, confused and even a little scared. His forehooves were still shaking from the encounter with the purple earth stallion, weakening his ankles. Braeburn had been acting with his emotions, and not his brain. Bullet Tyme had a mind for everlasting objectivity, no matter how dire the situation. His son, on the other hoof, was not so confident in the idea. In times such as these, his title as the fastest shooter in the West simply didn't matter with a faltering mindset behind it.

In Braeburn's silence, Bullet Tyme exhaled a breath and concluded in a calmer voice: "After Ah get back to town, me and Silverstar are gonna investigate what's goin' on. Ah know that yer a full-grown stallion Braeburn, and that you can make yer own decisions. But fer right now, just listen to me. Go, do whatever it is ya' need to do to make yerself right before we meet up again. But if Ah were you, Ah wouldn't leave town. It's obvious Sure Shot left fer a reason, and Ah don't want ya' runnin' into him until yer ready fer it. That pony has some sorta' plan on his mind, and we need to figure out what it is before he hurts somepony."

The sand-colored stallion didn't leave any room for a reply as he turned around and walked away, leaving Braeburn to solemnly stare at the space of ground he once occupied. The beige earth pony sighed through his nose, wondering what in Equestria his father wanted him to do. He watched Bullet Tyme depart, falling to his haunches in uncertainty. It was true; Braeburn was now twenty-six years old, and fully capable of making his own choices. However, a part of him had grown used to his father's direction, after living under his roof for the majority of his life. Not only that, but he was still under Bullet's employ as a farmer.

He didn't ask to become an upholder of the law; it just happened. For reasons unknown, ponies just expected him to be some sort of vigilante for when Silverstar was overwhelmed. As much as Braeburn enjoyed the sport of shooting, he hated to think that his next target was a living creature, let alone another pony. He realized that it had been a few minutes since his father's departure, and decided that no good would come from sitting in the middle of the desert in the hot sun. With a huff, Braeburn stood to his hooves and headed back toward Appleloosa.

Three - In Your Absence

Ponies littered the streets of Appleloosa, clamoring to get back to their homes quickly and safely in fear of another attack. They couldn't be blamed, for their knowledge of the event was limited to rumor. All they knew was that the front end of Sheriff Silverstar's office had been completely destroyed, and that they had been told to stay indoors for the time being. Some immediately fled home, while the less fearful retired to the saloon instead. Braeburn, however, decided to take refuge just outside of town, away from the onlookers and ponies asking questions. It only took a minute or two for somepony to demand knowledge of what had transpired in their absence, only to be ignored by the beige stallion. He merely paced directly through the center of town and out the other side, heading North toward the high orange mesas overlooking the small town.

When in a sense of doubt or distress, the ponies of Appleloosa would always look to Braeburn and Bullet Tyme for guidance. Very seldom would the citizens of the dusty town depend on their sheriff when times were tough, for he simply wasn't the veritable symbol of swift justice that they seemed to represent. Some ponies would give a lot for such an honorable position in society, but Braeburn just wanted it to end. A part of him wanted to simply sell Thumper and leave town, just to avoid the reputation he had inadvertently gained. But when somepony found evil in their heart and decided to steal and plunder, Braeburn couldn't watch while such injustices occurred. Who else would be there to stop these horrid deeds, when the criminal in question was armed and ready to take innocent lives?

It wasn't bravery, regardless of what ponies called it. Braeburn was a proud stallion, but by no means did he consider himself brave. It was just something that arose in his mind whenever he saw somepony break the law; something that subconsciously told him to act, to move in the way of their plans. He hated when it happened, but there was nothing the stallion could do to prevent it. His mind would tell him to run, but his heart was the one his body seemed to listen to the most. Perhaps that was why Braeburn was constantly thinking with his emotions, rather than objectivity like his father. It was a mindset that made Silverstar want to put him in his place as the sheriff of town when he retired. However, Bullet always made the same argument: that he was simply too old.

Braeburn had always thought that was odd. His father wasn't a stallion one would call 'old,' for he was still in his fifties. He had guessed that it was simply because of the farm. As talented of a riflepony as he was, the Apple Family depended on his business savvy out in the West. If he were to retire from farming, Braeburn imagined that Granny Smith would take the first train to Appleloosa to deliver Bullet a swift buck to the jaw. The beige stallion allowed himself a brief smile at that thought, knowing full and well that it was a valid theory as to what would happen in such a circumstance.

After what only felt like a few minutes, Braeburn had circled the range of mesas and settled himself atop a high plateau, about a half a mile outside of town. The sun was midway through its afternoon passing, not quite as sweltering as normal. Not many outsiders would be able to tell when autumn was on its way out West, except maybe if they were to step a hoof in the apple orchards to find the changing colors. But ponies like him could simply feel it in the weather. Cool breezes weren't as seldom, apples were reaching the peak of their season, and ponies all over town just seemed to be in a fair mood most of the time. Every one of them, except Braeburn.

The riflepony took a moment before falling to his haunches atop the plateau, facing the outskirts of Appleloosa. From this high up, the sun's rays were starting to become an issue. He lowered the brim of his cowpony hat, shielding his eyes from the light. With an inward sigh, Braeburn removed the scabbard from his back, allowing his duster to flutter in the light breeze. He laid the sheathed weapon on the ground next to him, unwilling to even look at it for the time being.

"There you are!" said a voice. Braeburn slowly turned his head around, unsurprised to think that somepony would be looking for him. However, the source of the voice wasn't a pony at all. The stallion's eyebrows lifted a little at the sight of a small, female buffalo. Unlike her kin, she was short with thin, nimble legs. She had a head of curly orange hair, adorned with a tribal headband with two long white and gray eagle feathers tucked into it, standing up on end from around the back. Slung around her thin shoulders was a brown messenger bag, only arousing Braeburn's curiosity for the briefest of moments. The buffalo wore a bright smile at the sight of him, her small eyes glinting in the sunlight.

"You seem to grow harder and harder to find with every passing season, Braeburn," the buffalo smiled, sitting down next to him.

"Oh, howdy Little Strongheart," he replied, although halfheartedly. "Why, were ya' lookin' fer me?"

"Only for about a week!" she answered with mock exasperation. "Where have you been? Not out in Dodge Junction risking your life again, I hope."

"Nope, only here," he said simply, instilling an odd look from the buffalo.

"Wh-What? Did something happen while I was away?" she asked worriedly. Braeburn sighed before retelling the events of the past hour or so, briefly covering his failure to stop Sure Shot. He didn't stop for Little Strongheart's gasps or looks of concern. When he finished, she had a small forehoof over her mouth, her eyes wide. "Braeburn! What are...why...why are you doing this to yourself?! You know how dangerous that stallion is!"

"O' course Ah do," he said. "But it's like Ah told you: nopony else was in the position to do anything about him. There was only me...and Ah still failed."

Little Strongheart went to open her mouth, but closed it instead, staring at the stallion to her right. Something was on her mind, but it was clear that she didn't know how to put it. After a few silent moments, she finally spoke up: "I'm sorry, Braeburn. I just don't know what to say. I know that you and your father are really the only ponies who can truly protect Appleloosa from dark times, but at the same time...I wish you didn't have to."

"Can we not talk about it any more?" Braeburn asked weakly, unable to continue thinking upon the matter. The buffalo paused for a beat before nodding with a small smile.

"Well, alright," she started, changing the conversation as quickly as she could. "So...aside from that, where have you been? What have you been up to?"

"Ah've been around, just not goin' outta my way to be found is all," he said, perhaps more seriously than he intended. The buffalo cocked an eyebrow at him, recoiling her head back slightly.

"Oh, did I offend you or something?" she asked in an apologetic tone. Braeburn sighed through his nostrils.

"Naw, Ah'm sorry Strongheart," he said softly, looking back to the town below with unfocused eyes. "Things have just been stressful is all."

"Oh, I apologize," she said. "I just wanted to see if I could find you. I kind of wanted to catch up, considering how long it's been since I've seen you."

Braeburn smirked faintly. It had indeed been months since any pony in Appleloosa had even sighted a buffalo in the area. But judging by Little Strongheart's sudden appearance, her tribe had returned to their stampeding grounds.

"Am I bothering you by being here?" she asked meekly, curling one of her knobby forelegs to her chest.

"Naw, yer fine," he said in almost a whisper. "Ah'm just..."

"...still waiting for her?" Little Strongheart suggested, catching Braeburn off-guard. His eyes snapped back toward her, although still lidded halfway.

"Well, yeah, there's that," he agreed with a melancholy sigh.

"Braeburn," she started, her tone soft. "Forgive me if this is none of my business, but don't you think that it has been long enough?"

Braeburn snapped his gaze back to the buffalo once again, his eyes glaring unintentionally. "What d'ya mean by that?"

"W-Well...it's been over a year now," she replied, her voice shaking as if he were to holler at her. "and it just doesn't seem like she will come back. I mean, you still read the papers, right? Being as well-known as she is, don't you think a sighting of her would have been mentioned, at the very least?"

He had indeed thought of that, many a time before. But hearing it come from another voice struck a sorrowful chord in his heart. "Ah'm...aware o' that."

"Then why do you keep thinking about her?" she asked. "Do you not see how much pain you are putting yourself through?"

The stallion did his best to push his agitation aside as to not unleash it on the innocent buffalo. "Don't ya' think that Ah'd love to just be able to do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Yer right, my life would be a mite easier if Ah just forgot about her. But ya' know somethin'? Ah can't. Yer not the only one who's told me that, Strongheart," Braeburn said, his volume rising with every word. He then looked back to her, easing his expression as best as he could. "So lemme ask you somethin'; why d'ya want me to just forget her so bad?"

Little Strongheart took a moment to contemplate her answer, but when she did, he could tell that she meant every word of it: "You used to be so...happy, Braeburn. Every time I saw you, you were so energetic and full of life. You always had a smile on your face, and you were just so much fun to be around. I remember the days when I would come by your farm for my tribe's pies, and we would just talk and laugh while you worked, and sometimes I would stay to help. I just...I just miss those days, and I hate seeing you so sad and lonely like this. Has that mare truly made you like this? Has her absence really broken your spirit in such a way that you can't even smile anymore?

"Ah..." he started, but couldn't think of how to finish the sentence. Braeburn looked his friend straight in the eyes, uncertainty etched into his face. Little Strongheart looked like her soul was weeping for him, as if the word 'sympathy' wasn't enough to describe her emotions. He couldn't be mad at that face, she simply didn't deserve his anger. Instead Braeburn let out a short snort and looked back down to the ground in front of him. "Ya' really do care, don't ya' Strongheart?"

"Of course I do," she answered simply. "It...it hurts me to see you like this. It's just not you, Braeburn. I know that you haven't truly changed like that."

"Are ya' sure 'bout that? 'Cause it sounds about right," he replied solemnly. He felt a small hoof rest on his shoulder, a gesture that he could just barely ignore.

"But she's not the only problem, is she?" Little Strongheart asked, lifting her hoof from his shoulder. Braeburn saw out of the corner of his eye that she was now gesturing to the sheathed Marechester between them. The stallion nodded slightly, subconsciously watching as the buffalo withdrew the rifle from its scabbard, curiously looking it over in her hooves next to him. She regarded Thumper with an expression torn between wonder and uncertainty, her eyes drifting along the length of the weapon.

"It's also what you have to do to protect others," she concluded in a small voice. Braeburn nodded once more.

She knew well of his disdain towards fulfilling the role that ponies had made for him since that day in Dodge Junction. The one shot that put the infamous purple stallion back behind bars, that one bullet that came from out of nowhere. It was the event that started his unwanted career; his undeserved title.

"But this...I cannot think of a way to avoid it," she said sympathetically.

"And Ah can't think of a way outta the other one," said Braeburn. "So Ah guess that Ah won't be right again until Sure Shot is gone and she comes back...if either of those things happen. Ah reckon that Ah'm jus waitin' fer a day that'll never come."

A warm breeze broke the momentary silence, ruffling Braeburn's long mane and tail, the lapel of his duster fluttering slightly. He opened his eyes again and looked up to the sky. It was another cloudless day, the vast expanse of cyan blue normally the source to an uplifted mood. He simply didn't know what to do anymore. Did he shove his morality aside and shoot the next pony to cross the lines of the law, or just remain there atop the mesa, moping about his horrid luck? He felt no energy to move, or even keep his eyes completely open anymore. A full night's rest had been a seldom occurrence for the past year. Many hours of sleep had instead been spent lying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling solemnly. He would pray to Celestia that the mare he couldn't stop thinking about would just do what she promised and return.

At this point, did she even plan to? Perhaps she found somepony else in her travels, and simply forgot about the simple farmpony. What did he have to offer her that nopony else could? Braeburn couldn't think of a single thing. The pegasus mare had left to find herself; to make sure that her heart truly beat for him. Perhaps she realized that it was nothing more than a crush, manifested by her distraught past and hardships. It made sense, and it certainly conformed to the stallion's current streak of hard times. He hated feeling sorry for himself like this, but the shroud of sorrow veiling his thoughts seemed all but impenetrable at this point.

Little Strongheart said nothing, but merely held Thumper in her small hooves and stared at him. He could feel her gaze, but did nothing to return it. "What will you do, Braeburn?"

"Ah..." he started, ultimately stumped. "Ah dunno..."

"Well, I-oh! I just remembered!" the buffalo exclaimed, eliciting a quirked eyebrow from the stallion. She excitedly dug her hooves into her messenger bag, withdrawing an envelope from its largest pocket. Braeburn took it, looking over the folded parchment to find only his name hastily scrawled across the front. "A stallion in Dodge Junction caught me on my way back here to ask if I was headed to Appleloosa. I said yes, and he requested that I gave this to you. Do you know anypony by the name of Gunmetal Grey?"

"Yeah," he answered. "He's actually the gunsmith that Pa and Ah go to. What would he want with me?"

Curious, Braeburn adjusted his grip on the envelope and tore one end off with his teeth before turning it over. Another folded piece of parchment fell out, which he caught in his hooves. Little Strongheart poked her head over his shoulder, reading along with him after he unfolded the letter:

Braeburn,

I'm not sure when you'll get this, or if it'll fall into your hooves before it's too late. Something bad happened in Dodge this morning; Sure Shot broke out of his cell outside of town, and he was running amuck through town before I started writing this to you. I didn't know what was going on until I saw him barge out of an apartment building on the edge of town. I don't know what he's up to, or how he broke out of his imprisonment, but I wanted to write this to you as a warning. Not ten minutes ago that bandit got in a gun fight with Sheriff Goldstar and just took off. The sheriff's hurt real bad Braeburn; he took a bullet in the leg and is now being treated by a doctor in his office. For all I know, Sure Shot's on his way to Appleloosa. Be careful, Braeburn.

It's a good thing he got his guns from somewhere else, because I was working on a new weapon when he broke out. It's a rifle I've been crafting for some time, and I think now of all times that it should be in a lawpony's hooves. Listen, Sure Shot is more than likely rallying his allies right now, and I'd bet my flank that he's in a foul mood after being behind bars again. That pony is dangerous, and you need a weapon that can keep up with you. Thumper is a great rifle, but it chambers a large and clumsy round. The fact that you can cycle it as quick and accurate as you do is quite a feat, but you need an edge on those bandits. Whenever you can, I need you to come to Dodge Junction so I can give you this new weapon. The West needs a hero, Braeburn. I know you're not a certified pony of the law, but you were the only one to take Sure Shot down before. I implore you, please take the next train to Dodge and come see me.

-Gunmetal

"He what?!" Braeburn exclaimed as he finished the letter. As he read of Sure Shot's doings before arriving to Appleloosa, his brain immediately shot from melancholy to borderline anger as his thoughts raced to decipher just what the bandit was doing. To the inexperienced mind, his deeds would merely look like the senseless trail of an enraged criminal. But to Braeburn, this was something much more. All of the events that had transpired that day happened for a reason. "He's plannin' somethin', Ah know it."

"What makes you say that, Braeburn?" asked Little Strongheart worriedly as she watched him rise to his hooves.

The earth pony tucked the letter away in the inner pocket of his duster before throwing the sheathed Marechester over his back again, adjusting the strap to better fit him at a full gallop. "Ah dunno, but somethin' 'bout it don't seem right."

The small buffalo seemed to sigh inwardly as her chest deflated, giving Braeburn a look of solemn concern. "So I guess this means you're going to Dodge Junction."

Her tone of voice made the stallion feel his ears sag to the sides of his head. "What else am Ah gonna do, Strongheart?" he replied in a tone that begged for her to understand. "If Ah stay here-"

"Braeburn, it's alright," she interrupted with a raised hoof as she stood up again. "I know that you are going to do what you are going to do. But just let me say this: Ever since that pegasus left, you have always told me not to worry about you. But the problem is that no matter how many times you say it, I am of course going to worry. You are a good friend of mine, more than I can say about most ponies or even buffalo. But I know who you are...you're the stallion the West looks up to, the pony they depend on. I know in your heart that you cannot run from that or your heartbreak, for it is simply not you."

She stopped for a moment, casting her gaze over Appleloosa below the towering mesa they stood upon. "You are a good pony, Braeburn. Good has always been in your heart, and I understand that," she continued. "But please, just be careful out there. I don't even wish to think about losing you."

It had been a long time since any pony or buffalo had said something like that to him. Braeburn felt his tense muscles ease into a more relaxed state, his racing mind starting to follow suit. He took a step toward Little Strongheart, wrapping a single foreleg around her neck. The buffalo recoiled slightly before returning the embrace. "Don't worry now. Ah'll be back home safe and sound."

"Thank you Braeburn," she whispered before letting him go. "But what shall you tell your father about your sudden absence?"

"Well, he said that Ah shouldn't leave Appleloosa," he reflected aloud. "but Ah don't see a better thing to do right now. Heck, maybe Ah can even scrounge up some clues as to what's goin' on here. But uh...one thing."

"Yes?"

"If ya' don't wanna give my Pa a conniption fit, then this conversation never happened," he said in a serious tone. "He's busy workin' with Silverstar right now. In fact, don't tell anypony where Ah'm goin'."

"You really don't want ponies on your tail, I assume?" she asked with a smirk.

"Pff, o' course not," he replied, returning the grin. The stallion adjusted the collar of his duster, making sure that he was armed with plenty of ammunition in the cartridge loops on the inside of the garment. The ride to Dodge Junction wasn't overly long, but anything could have happened there or on the way. He turned to walk away, but stopped to turn his head back to Little Strongheart, wearing a reassuring smile. "Take care o' town fer me while Ah'm gone, would ya'?"

"Oh I'm sorry, that doesn't sound like my job," she sneered. Braeburn had no answer for her sarcasm, and instead started back down the North side of the plateau at a steady trot, hoping to Celestia that Appleloosa would be alright without him.

The ground was hundreds of hooves below, the blue sea growing farther and father away. The water sparkled in the dying sunlight, reflecting its distorted rays. The horizon glowed with a bright orange light, unfiltered without the presence of a single cloud. The droning hum of whirling propellers vibrated the small room in the center of the craft, a sound that had become nothing more than background noise to its passengers after only ten minutes of flight. The ship ascended into the sky as the day drew closer to its end, the start of what would be a long flight.

The cabin of the aircraft wasn't lavish by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn't makeshift either. Two rows of comfortable seats lined the front and rear walls of the room, situated on either side of a long coffee table. The surface of the table was covered with an assortment of maps, inkwells and quills. A single, large compass was set into the wood, its needle indicating their Southern trajectory. The walls were completely bare, the only things breaking the monotony being two long windows on either side, sealed to prevent mid-flight pressure differences.

On the front end of the room sat a bright yellow pegasus mare, her large ruby eyes transfixed on an ancient map unfurled on the table in front of her. The long lashes of her low eyelids swayed gracefully up and down with every seldom blink, focused on the drawings. Crimson and pink bangs dusted her brow, the two tones clashed together in the vague shape of a lightning bolt. The top of her wild mane swayed carelessly to the side and back, while the rest hung splayed over one shoulder, a similarly-colored tail flicking restlessly next to her. Just barely visible from her sitting position was an orange sunrise upon her flank, veiled by the feathers of a furled wing. The mare wore a tired, annoyed sort of expression. With a quiet groan, the pegasus simply gave up on whatever she was trying to gain from the maps and slumped back into her seat, crossing her hindhooves atop the surface of the table, forelegs tucked lazily behind her head.

"Ugh, I can't make heads or tails of these old things," she sighed, her voice low, but not without its own feminine tones. "I don't see how you can decipher these."

Another pony sat across from the yellow mare, laying on her stomach with her forehooves tucked underneath her chest. The other pegasus had a coat the color of dark sandstone, offset only by her bright rose eyes. Her mane and tail were a veritable spectrum of grays and black, messy and unkempt. Around her torso was an olive-green pocketed shirt, its sleeves rolled-up to the knees of her forelegs. She wasn't listening much to her friend, but more to the dull ringing in her head. Her eyes were half-lidded and staring unfocused out the window to her left, her overall expression that of mental absence.

The bright-yellow mare furrowed her brow, glaring at the pony across the table from her. "Oi, Daring Do! You there?"

The other mare's eyes snapped completely open, her gaze finally focusing and landing on her friend for the first time that day. She cleared her throat silently with a hoof to her mouth before answering: "Oh, um...sorry Day Break. What's up?"

It was almost difficult for her to even speak, for her voice hadn't been used much as of late. The yellow mare didn't move an inch from her relaxed position, only quirking an eyebrow at her. "I asked you how you're able to make sense of these blasted maps," she repeated, gesturing an irritated hoof toward the tattered parchment between them. Daring rubbed her itching eyes and looked at the maps she was indicating. They were Mesoequestrian illustrations of a tomb she had uncovered years before. The maps happened to be only a single piece of the many findings she and her old team had discovered.

"Those are ancient blueprints, Day Break. I'd be surprised if you could read them without years of archaeological study," she remarked, although lacking the level of snark she had been aiming for. Her dull reply instilled another cocked eyebrow from the yellow mare. Her focus darted to Daring's sunken eyes, their lower lids sporting a dark shade of purple.

"Daring, are you okay?" she asked, a mild touch of concern in her voice. "You look like you're gonna hurl out the window."

"I'm fine," the archaeologist immediately replied, only a fraction of a section between the question and her answer. Her haste seemed to arouse suspicion in her friend.

"Okay, no," said Day Break flatly. "You're lying to me again. Is this about that-"

"No, it's not," Daring spat, her answer containing no sort of tact. In surprise to her retort, the dark mare immediately wiped the scowl from her face, replaced by an apologetic expression. But before she could repair the damage, her friend pointed a hoof at her face, her eyelids low.

"That...that's how I know you're lying," she said matter-of-factly. "The bags under your eyes and the quick and angry responses I've been getting for the past couple of days. You haven't slept at all, have you? Just take a breath and talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about," she said, casting her eyes back out the window. It was indeed another lie, but it was better than admitting to her pain and spending the rest of their flight in an awkward silence.

"Daring," Day Break interjected, her tone level. "How long have we been friends? I know when something's bugging you. Just cut the charade and talk about it."

"I...we don't have the time for that."

"We have a night-long flight ahead of us. We have plenty of time. Now come on," she continued, speaking as if she were prodding a disobedient foal to bed. "What is it?"

Daring cursed herself for not thinking before attempting the ruse. Her mind was too busy racing over their destination, clouded with dread and regret. She looked back to Day Break, whom was still laid back in her seat, her forelegs now crossed in front of her. To somepony that hadn't known the yellow pegasus like Daring did, her expression may have only radiated apathy, true to her almost constant demeanor. But she knew better. Behind those half-lidded ruby eyes was a level of true concern for her friend, a pony she had known since her teenage years. Daring cursed herself once more, this time for lying to one of the only ponies she could confide in. Day Break didn't deserve that, she was only trying to help.

The archaeologist sighed quietly as the other pegasus waited patiently. Daring collected herself, her eyes tiredly looking over the coffee table as if to distract herself. "Yeah, you're right. I haven't been able to sleep at all the past couple of nights. And no, before you say it, it's not about...you know..."

"If not him, then what is it?"

"I'm..." Daring started, loathing the word she was about to use. She even made a subconscious twitch of her jaw to physically bite her tongue, but eventually pushed past it. "I'm...ugh, I'm scared alright?!"

She looked away from her friend as soon as the words escaped her lips, unaware of how she could extrapolate her meaning. But sure enough, Day Break asked: "Scared? Scared of what?"

Daring expected a scoff, maybe even a little teasing laugh from the pegasus, but was shocked to hear nothing but a desire to learn just what she was talking about. She raised her head a little, meeting the other mare's gaze once again. "Of where we're going, Day Break. I've been dreading this trip all darned year. Every day it grew closer, and for the past week my hooves haven't been able to stop shaking. The past two nights my fear has kept me awake, tossing and turning in my bed. Do you have any idea what it's like to be afraid to sleep, as if that...that monster is going to kill you in your dreams?"

With every word, Daring's volume and intensity had risen. It took a few sentences for her to realize it, but eventually she cut the flow of her emotions short before she started hollering at the yellow mare. She bit her lip, staring at Day Break's unchanged expression. The pegasus remained relaxed, despite the small emotional outburst that Daring had almost lost control of. The dark mare coiled her forehooves together in a feeble attempt to cease their quivering.

Day Break let her head fall back, supported by the back of her chair as she stared at the ceiling. She let a small chuckle vibrate in her throat. "That's funny, actually. I remember a certain somepony reassuring me that this monster was securely imprisoned by a group of powerful unicorns. Not that it would have steered me away regardless..."

"If you had a clue of what he is really like, you'd understand," said Daring gravely, her face somber.

"Oh yeah?" her friend replied, wearing an amused grin. "Okay then, what's the difference between him and the storybook character?"

The archaeologist narrowed her eyes at Day Break, her expression that of utter seriousness. She paused before answering, her tone heavy, as if her next sentence held the weight of the world. "The difference is that Ahuitzotl is real."

Four - The Unknown Goal

Night fell over the blue expanse of sea below, Luna's moon overtaking the setting sun. A pale azure light graced the water, a vista that finally brought a sense of calm over the monochromatic mare's rapidly beating heart. Daring Do continued to stare out the window, even after her grave statement. Silence had fallen for a moment or two while the yellow mare mulled over what her friend had said. Even in her attempt to play off Daring's fear as a mere formality, Day Break seemed to have nothing to respond with. The bright pegasus laid back in her seat, her limbs still crossed but now lacking their relaxed demeanor. She frowned toward the ceiling, her head leaning on the wall behind her.

Daring sighed, rising to her haunches and picking up the white pith hat from the hook on the wall next to her. She held it in her forehooves, looking the item over with a sense of longing. It was a gift from long ago, a hat left to her in her father's passing. His death was by Ahuitzotl's design, although inadvertently. But even if the trap hadn't been specifically made for her parents, Daring still felt a rage she had put away long ago; a need for vengeance that she could never satisfy. His imprisonment had indeed been her doing, but was it truly enough? Did that monster not deserve to die for his crimes against her family? Their deaths were nothing personal, but it sure did feel like that to the mare that had been forced to live without them.

"Ya' know, you're gonna have to elaborate on that last comment sometime this century," came Day Break's voice, her tone exasperated.

"He's real, that's all there is to it," Daring replied flatly, her eyes still on the pith hat in her hooves.

"Okay, yeah, I get it. Ahuitzotl isn't some storybook villain trying to take over the world with some sort of blundering scheme or something," the yellow mare said, waving her forehooves around sarcastically to emphasize her words. "But you need to give me details as to why you turn into such a scared little schoolfilly at the mere mention of his name. I've been trying to get this outta you for years, so spill it already!"

Daring immediately tightened her grip on the pith hat, more to steady her hooves than anything. She looked up to Day Break, her rose eyes half-lidded with fatigue. "I am afraid of him because of what he is; a beast-"

"Alright, but-"

"Darn it! Will you just shut up and let me talk?!" the dark mare snapped, her voice cracking on the last word. The yellow pegasus' brow flew up in shock. Daring scowled at herself for losing control again, biting her lip to keep her anger at bay. "I'm sorry...I...I'm just..."

"No, it's alright, Daring," Day Break replied, her voice softening instantly to a much warmer tone. She shifted her position on her seat, laying on her stomach with her forehooves draped over the edge of the chair. She looked at her friend with large, caring eyes; a complete contrast from only a moment earlier. "You don't have to tell me now. I'll find out when we get there. But for now, you really need to sleep."

"I told you that I can't," she said, her voice lowering as well. It was true; despite the fact that it had been days since she was able to rest, the pegasus simply couldn't find her mind at peace long enough to sleep through a single night. For hours now, Daring had been on the verge of passing out, her eyes heavy and her brain nauseous. If she had been able to eat anything, she was sure that her body would be rejecting it by now.

Day Break wore a sly smirk. "Would it help if I bopped you on the head so you could?"

"I'd like you a lot less," Daring remarked, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"I'd be willing to risk that," she said matter-of-factly, as if her sarcasm were false. The monochromatic pony's lips curled into a genuine smile, something her muddled mind was elated to feel. Her heart finally slowed down a few beats, and her hooves stopped shaking. Her friend seemed to notice her change in demeanor, sighing through her nose.

"So how are you gonna tell him when we get back?" she asked.

Daring went to react with confusion, but knew that it wouldn't throw her perceptive friend off in the least. "Which part? That I'm sorry for leaving for so long or that I'm still confused?"

"Chuh! Confused my flank! Every time we talk about that stallion you go redder than a...look! You're doing it now!"

The pegasus' eyes widened as she was forced to notice a sensation of heat rise to her face. Daring quickly looked away out of pure reflex, much to Day Break's amusement. The yellow mare burst into a small fit of giggles, instilling a facetious scowl from Daring. "Okay, okay, fine."

"Wow," Day Break laughed, wiping her eye with a hoof. "this pony sure must have quite the hold on you. Why haven't you told me about him yet?"

Daring exhaled, knowingly beaten. She let the blush on her cheeks remain, looking back to her friend. "Because I knew you'd make fun of me for it."

"Well, yeah. That's a given." Day Break smirked with a shrug. "But seriously, what's this Braeburn like? I've never seen you so flustered about another pony like this before."

The archaeologist smiled at that. Perhaps she let too much of her feelings show. Either that, or the stallion from Appleloosa simply brought it out in her, even after not seeing him for so long. She remembered all too well of the emotions that he seemed to stir in her, even just by smiling at her. "There's a million things about him that I could name off," she finally started, fondness in her voice. "But the one thing about him that stands out the most is that he's...well, different."

"Different?" Day Break repeated, genuinely confused.

"Yeah," Daring smiled. "Everything about him can be traced back to that one word. He's nothing like any pony that I've ever met before. He's kind, caring, brave, sincere, completely selfless..."

She trailed off, her voice cracking slightly as her sentence dwindled out into silence. She could have spent an hour reciting all the words that described her memory of Braeburn, but it still would never compare to simply meeting him. The simple farmpony could have been perceived as nothing special; a workhorse that lived on an apple farm. However, Daring Do was lucky enough to know him very well before they were even properly introduced. She would never forget the day when her life was saved by the beige earth pony that came out of nowhere. The pegasus had stared down the barrel of a rifle, her entire being merely accepting death then and there. What else could she have done, with nopony else around to help her in time? But of course, Braeburn Apple was the one to stop her attacker.

That was but one of the slew of memories that Daring Do treasured the most, the rest based around the farmpony as well. She allowed her mind to drift off into a trance, dictated solely on her longing to see the stallion once again. Day Break seemed to grow weary of her silence, and impatiently tapped a hoof on the coffee table between them.

"Why you daydreaming little schoolfilly," she remarked, grinning at her.

"Alright, fine," the dark mare admitted. "Maybe I was daydreaming...a little."

"Uh huh," Day Break agreed with a slow nod. "It's amazing that you only hung around him for about a week, and yet you're all mushy every time I mention his name. Did something happen that you haven't told me yet?"

Daring laughed at what her friend could have been insinuating, but simply answered: "Sometimes all a pony needs is a few days to make such a profound impact on you."

"Okay, one more question," Day Break asked, sidestepping the other mare's seemingly prolific statement. "Don't take this the wrong way here, but...how do you know that he still feels the same way about you? I mean...it's been a really long time, Daring."

The dark pegasus could only smile wearily at that; a question that would have normally knocked her off the narrow line of equilibrium she was currently teetering on. It was a somber thought, yes, but ultimately one that definitely needed an answer. It had been over a year since she had last seen him; more than enough time for either of them to simply move on. But for whatever reason, Daring Do simply couldn't forget about him. She had left to find herself; to accept her past and see what kind of pony she really was. She had even told Braeburn to wait for her; an utterly selfish thought in hindsight. The pegasus hadn't planned to be out of touch for so long. While the amount of time was never defined, she had only expected to be gone a few months at the most. For all she knew, the stallion could have found somepony else in her absence. She couldn't have imagined it being difficult; Braeburn was a handsome stallion. It wouldn't take much for some mare to trot over and show interest.

Daring shook that unpleasant thought from her head, her subconscious trying to simply focus on her feeling for him. It was truly awe-inspiring, even to her, just how prevalent her infatuation for him still was. Her feelings had never faltered in the time of their separation. In fact, they had somehow strengthened even. Like she had told the pegasus across from her: it was simply the impact Braeburn had made on her. She knew that she would never find another pony like him, and that she wouldn't even want to try a relationship with anypony else.

"Well...I don't know," Daring finally said, the small smile still on her face. "I guess I'll just have to keep to the code of the archaeologist."

Day Break grinned, although incredulously. "Faith, huh?"

"It hasn't let me down yet," the archaeologist said simply, exhaling a deep breath through her nose. The mare felt her chest loosen, her nerves calming down as fatigue finally took its long awaited course. Her heavy eyelids had started to flicker downward, her brain activity slowing. "We'll just get to the ruins tomorrow, help the unicorns perform the Sealing Spell, and get back on the airship and go home."

"Nothing to worry about, right?"

"Nothing at all."

At Daring's confirmation, the bright yellow mare climbed down from her seat, stretching once she stood up straight again. She extended her long, nimble wings, cracking them in a few places after relaxing for so long. When she was satisfied that her limbs were loose enough, the pegasus strode over to her friend, pushing her forcibly off her seat with her forehead. Daring complied, although not without a disapproving glare. Day Break guided her to one of the two fold-out cots on the other side of the cabin, silently directing her to take one. The darker mare crawled atop the bed on the right, wearily removing her shirt before slouching underneath the thick layers of sheets and blankets. She tossed the garment haphazardly next to the bed, atop the overflowing bag of clothes and supplies.

After she was comfortable on her side, Daring let her head fall to the soft pillow, looking up at the other pegasus. Day Break was in the middle of walking away, but noticed Daring's thankful expression. The yellow mare nodded once with an understanding grin, turning off the lamp with a click.

Braeburn trotted up the shallow steps and onto the rickety floorboards of the platform, sighing in relief to find that he hadn't missed the train quite yet. In a rush, the stallion clumsily gave the ticket pony ten bits for his pass, galloping into the car just as the conductor bellowed out the last call. He was immediately greeted with several odd looks as he skidded on his hooves into the car, almost colliding into an older mare trying to take her seat. Braeburn grinned bashfully, attempting to hide his face with the brim of his hat. The cabin was half-empty, only holding a couple of ponies here and there. One or two gave him a polite smile, while the rest looked at him with extreme caution and worry. It took a moment for Braeburn to realize that they were all staring at the weapon on his back; Thumper's rear stock protruding from behind his left shoulder.

But before he could say a word to quell their fears, a heavy prod was felt on his shoulder. The riflepony turned to his right, finding a tall, foreboding stallion. He wore a blue vest; signalling his employ as a security guard. "Permit," he said simply, holding out a hoof. Braeburn nodded quickly, digging into the inner pocket of his duster and withdrawing a yellow slip of parchment that bore his name, address and weapon ownership details. The stallion nodded once, gesturing for him to take his seat. Braeburn pocketed his permit, pacing down the aisle toward the rear of the car.

Most of the passengers were obvious out-of-towners, a few of them cradling rifles in their laps. Braeburn sighed inwardly. He felt bad for the ponies unable to finish the competition, as well as the ones that lost early on. He didn't recognize anypony as he trotted down the aisle, and merely gave them a polite smile as he passed. But when he came to the end of the car, Braeburn was spotted by a face that he definitely remembered.

From a booth on the left came a small head of brown pigtails, bangs swaying carelessly across the brow of a white filly. Her large blue eyes widened at the sight of him, a small grin forming on her face. "Oh! Mister Apple!"

Braeburn snorted, allowing himself a smile at the filly. He approached her booth, finding that her parents were occupying it as well. The three pegasi beamed at the riflepony, their smiles large and their eyes bright.

"Why hello there, Miss Ace," he replied, his tone brighter than with their previous encounter. He tipped his hat to her parents, for their names were unknown to him. Their luggage was stuffed into the overhead compartments, save for Aerial's rifle, leaning on the wall in the corner of the booth near the window. "Ya'll are off to Dodge?"

"Yeah," Aerial answered immediately. "there isn't a line that goes to Los Pegasus until Wednesday, but there's one in Dodge Junction that we're hoping to catch tomorrow."

"Either that or we fly through the San Palomino Desert," her father chimed in, "and that's not exactly ideal."

"Everypony take your seats, please," came the security guard's gruff voice from the front of the train car. Aerial's mother scooted toward the window, opening a seat in their booth.

"Why don't you sit with us?" asked the mare, gesturing to the seat she had opened up. "It would be nice to get to know the stallion our daughter won't stop talking about."

"Mom!" the white filly hissed, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Braeburn chuckled to himself, thanking the pegasi for their generosity. He sat down next to the light-beige mare, whom took his saddlebags for him, placing them in the corner. Thumper, however, leaned on his other side in its scabbard. Aerial seemed to shake the tinge from her face as her eyes focused with wonder on the Marechester.

"So what's in Dodge for you...um, Mister Apple?" asked Aerial's father.

The riflepony smirked, holding out his hoof to the stallion across from him. "Ya'll can call me Braeburn."

The pegasus smiled in return. "Nice to meet you, Braeburn. I'm Vapor Trail, and this is my wife, Autumn Breeze."

Braeburn nodded and shook both of their hooves. Minding his manners, he removed the Stetson from his head, placing it on the back of the booth. The doors to the train car closed with a loud thunk, and he felt the cabin shift around him. Slowly but surely, the locomotive lurched forward, the cogs below driving them forward. The passengers settled into their booths as they departed the station, the buildings of Appleloosa crawling by as they accelerated. When a few moments passed by, Braeburn realized that he still hadn't answered Vapor's question. The stallion snapped to attention, putting aside his worries for the time being.

"Oh, right," the earth pony chuckled, deciding to keep his next words vague. "There's just a few things Ah need'ta take care of in Dodge."

"Oh? Does their sheriff need help too?" Autumn smiled, her facetious question clearly not intended to offend him nor Silverstar's job. The pegasus, however, did not know of Goldstar's serious condition. She couldn't be blamed, so Braeburn merely grinned as if he knew nothing.

"Heh, hopefully not," he said meekly, brushing his bangs from his eyes. He noticed that the entire time they exchanged pleasantries, the filly's eyes had been drifting between him and the sheathed Marechester on his right. Braeburn smiled, asking what was on her mind with a quirk of his brow.

"Um, Braeburn?" she asked, sitting on her haunches, fiddling with her own forehooves. "Is that really...Thumper?"

"Ya' know its name?"

"Well, yeah," Aerial answered. "I've read a lot about you, and...well, I've always wanted to meet you."

"What she's trying to say, is that she's your biggest fan," Vapor Trail interjected with a smirk, receiving a "Dad!" in response. Braeburn could only hold his smile, flattered that even ponies from outside of town praised his good deeds, let alone somewhere far off like Los Pegasus. "Ever since she read an article about you, it was nothing but competition shooting."

"Well, I just wasn't interested in Weather Patrol," Aerial said.

"No, you weren't," her mother replied with only a halfhearted smile. Braeburn glanced around the booth, spotting the couple's weather-related cutie marks. It appeared that particular line of work ran in the family, and Aerial Ace seemed to defy that. Her cartridge-emblazoned flanks proved that. It warmed his heart knowing that his deeds had inspired this filly's special talent. "But it seems that you've found your own path."

"Ah reckon so," Braeburn agreed, looking to the white pegasus across from him. "Ya' sure out-shot everypony to the end there, Aerial. Ah've never seen nothin' quite like that. You've got a real talent, ya' know."

"There you go, honey," Autumn chimed in, her elegant lashes fluttering. "Even the Colt of the West thinks you're talented. Now that's something to be proud of."

Aerial Ace was speechless. Her face had flushed again, her eyes wide with bewilderment. She smiled, meekly rubbing her foreleg with a hoof as her gaze fell to the floor. "Thank you," she said quietly, instilling a chuckle from her father. Vapor ruffled her mane, her brown pigtails flicking behind her head.

As the evening drew on and the moon grew higher, the conversation had become more comfortable. The family of pegasi had proved to be very warm and quick to accept a new friend. They spoke of their life in Los Pegasus, and asked about Braeburn's in Appleloosa. Aerial Ace seemed to be a veritable fountain of questions, all about the riflepony's shooting prowess. She seemed to look at him like some sort of superhero, as if everything he said carried a divine weight to it. He even allowed her to hold Thumper, after he unloaded it of course. In return, Braeburn took a look at her own rifle.

It was unlike any Marechester he had ever seen before. The receiver was a normal size, the blued finish still fresh from the evidently recent manufacture. But the barrel, as well as the rear stock had been shortened dramatically, more than likely to accommodate a smaller pony such as Aerial. He noticed a fine line between the front of the receiver and the base of the barrel; indicating that it was a takedown model. From what he learned in the past year from his father, such features were incredibly rare and expensive. Another thing that he learned was that Oliver Marechester never made a Model 1892 chambered for the .357 Magnum. Braeburn voiced his queries of the gun, after he failed to spot a serial number, model or even a manufacturer stamp.

"Well, that's because it's not a Marechester," said Aerial matter-of-factly. "They tend to be...expensive. Dad's friend is an up-and-coming gunsmith. Ponies nowadays want to get their hooves on a Marechester, but not everypony has the bits for them. So he decided to make not just remakes of them, but ones chambered for a whole slew of rounds, including ones that they didn't originally come in. Same goes with the features, so we were able to get a takedown model so when I'm older, I can put a longer barrel and butt-stock on it. Palo is a smart pony; he charges about two thirds of the cost of the original Manchesters."

"And your compadre makes these guns?" asked Braeburn, his bewildered gaze directed toward Vapor.

"He's a friend from college, actually," Vapor replied. "His name is Palomino Auberti. He was an Equestrian History Major, fascinated with the Old West. So since then he studied, built his company and boom; gave little Aerial here one of the first 1892's from the prototype production line, hence why it doesn't have any manufacturer's stamp."

"Must be worth quite a lot th-"

Braeburn's sentence was cut off by the gasps of the passengers near the front of the train car, attracting his full attention. Aerial and her parents whipped their heads around as well, attempting to find the source of everypony's evident fear. It only took a moment before Braeburn's ears pricked up to a pounding sound coming from the ceiling, traveling toward the rear of the car. They were hooves, galloping at a steady pace. The beige earth pony grimaced, dread creeping in his veins. His eyes immediately found the large security guard, whom was investigating the sound with his head out one of the booth windows toward the front. He arched his thick neck upward, unable to see the speeding blur of dark blue, darting through the air outside.

Braeburn cried out a warning as he got to his hooves and galloped over, however in vain. The blur caught the muscular stallion by the neck, tearing him out of the train car through the small window. Overtaking the cries of fear and outrage from the passengers was the agonized scream of the security guard. Before anypony knew it, his large form was tumbling in a shadow-covered ditch to the left of the tracks, quickly disappearing into the darkness of the night. From the booth that the earth pony previously occupied came a high-pitched gasp from Aerial Ace. Braeburn scowled as he immediately whipped his body around, taking Thumper's scabbard by the strap and throwing the sheathed rifle over his back. All eyes were on him now; the riflepony about to take control of the situation.

"Braeburn, wait!" came Aerial's voice. The earth pony gave her a sidelong glance as he filled Thumper's tubular magazine to capacity. The filly jumped to the floor on hindhooves, reaching over for her Auberti rifle. Braeburn stopped her before her parents could, catching her hoof with one of his own.

"Ya'll take cover down here. Ah don't want any o' ya' to get hurt," he demanded, repeating himself to the rest of the passengers: "Everypony hunker down in yer booths and stay there! Hooves and heads inside and nowhere else!"

Without so much as a backward glance, Braeburn galloped toward the back of the train car. He grabbed the handle of the rearward door and slid it open with a grunt. The cold night air hit him instantly, the sound of the cogs and the engine ahead growing louder. In front of him was the caboose, its end platform only mere hooves away from their car's. Throwing all caution to the wind, he turned on a hoof and climbed the ladder next to the door. He kept his ears up, defying the wind that was blowing his mane back. As he ascended the upper steps of the ladder, he slowed his pace and allowed his eyes to sweep the skies above.

He saw nothing but the stars and the moon, illuminating the vast expanse of desert that the train was speeding through. To his disdain and fear, he couldn't pick up the thump of hooves nor the fluttering of wings. Braeburn stopped with the top of his head nearly level with the steel roof of the train car. The attacker was waiting for him somewhere, ready to pounce when he came into view, if he wasn't already. Unable to find another choice, Braeburn heaved himself upward, rolling onto the crowned expanse of metal. But not even a second after his ascension, the wind was knocked out of his lungs.

Something very fast and very powerful caught him by the chest, throwing the earth pony bodily through the air. With a heaving cough, Braeburn flew over the gap between the two cars, landing at a tumble across the roof of the caboose. His reflexes screamed at him to roll to his hooves, but the howling winds and vibrations of the steel shook him from his stance, only lengthening his distance of faltering. His limbs flailed, forehooves digging into the top of the caboose as he spotted his rifle flying away from him. The impact threw his weapon to the front of the car, the strap of the scabbard hooking around a smoke-billowing steel cylinder protruding from the corner of the rooftop.

He wearily stood to his hooves, throwing his mane from his face as he spotted the pegasus land on the passenger car ahead. The stallion didn't have any discerning features, save for his dark colors and dull-toned eyes. He wore a short, black mane, ruffled by the cold night air. He wielded no sort of weapon; only four heavy-duty boots strapped around his hooves and legs, a thick layer of rubber on their undersides. The earth pony's breaths came in short, haggard bursts, his chest throbbing in pain. His weakened right foreleg threatened to buckle underneath him, but he locked his elbow to prevent faltering.

"Where is the book?!" the pegasus bellowed over the wind, his gray eyes narrowed on him. Braeburn cocked an eyebrow through his scowl, as if he hadn't understood what the pegasus had said.

"Yer workin' for Sure Shot, right?" he asked. "Where is he?"

"That's none of your concern," the other stallion barked, anger arising in his barely-visible expression. "Tell me where the book is, or I'll do to you what I did to that last stallion."

Impatience coated the pegasus' words, which were quick and loud, as if he were in a hurry to accomplish his goal. Braeburn, however, was completely unaware of what he was talking about. A book? What kind of book would Sure Shot want? He was certain that he was working for the bandit leader, that much was obvious. That alone was enough for the riflepony to stop the pegasus, not to mention that he may have just killed the train's security guard.

Thumper had slid down the chimney as the caboose hit a bump, distracting him from his attacker. Even in that fraction of a second, he never saw the swift movement of midnight blue in front of him until the very last instance. His reaction time had been put to the test as Braeburn dipped down to the roof of the caboose. However, he didn't have enough time to completely dodge the attack. The earth pony's shoulder was clipped by the speeding pegasus, throwing his body into a horizontal spin above the steel rooftop. His vision blurred as the world spun around him, taking a moment to find himself skidding across the top of the car on his hooves. He couldn't tell if his landing was mere chance or reflex, but didn't have the time to speculate as he spotted the pegasus recovering in the air above, darting toward him with a mighty flap of his wings. But this time, the earth pony had time to plan his next move; to counter the attack. The blue stallion bolted downward, his forehooves outstretched and his eyes narrowed. Braeburn's mind only had half a second to react, but it was more than his keen reflexes needed.

Braeburn tightened the muscles in his legs, attempting to push himself backward into the air. However, he neglected to take the slippery metal underhoof into account. His hindlegs slid out from underneath him, causing his evasion to be compromised. Once again, he felt the air leave his chest as he was struck with what felt like the business end of a wrecking ball. His body flew through the air like a rag doll toward the front of the train, taking what felt like an eternity for him to strike the roof of the second-to-last car. The earth pony's vision and hearing were momentarily taken away, amplifying the pain coursing through his torso. A metallic taste filled his mouth as blood flew from his lips. His shoulder collided with the steel of the roof, his body sliding against the cold wind. Time seemed to slow down as his limbs refused to move, fresh with shock from the impacts. Another bump in the tracks rolled him to his back just before two solid thumps resounded on either side of his head. Braeburn opened his eyes, spotting the pegasus' anger-contorted face inches from his own.

"Last chance, Apple," he growled. "Where. Is. The. Book?!"

The earth pony coughed, speckling the blue stallion's face with crimson. "Ah don't know what yer talkin' 'bout!"

A blaze coursed through Braeburn's mind, filling his body with a second wind. His anger negated the pain, and now fueled his movements. Before his attacker could so much as blink, Braeburn bucked his hips upward, throwing his body into a backward roll. He tucked his hindlegs close to his frame, only to let them loose on the pegasus' head. Braeburn's hindhooves exploded upward, crashing into the side of the stallion's skull with a triumphant roar. The blue pegasus was thrown toward the front of the car. Without looking at the condition of his attacker, Braeburn darted to the opposite end of the car, leaping over the gap and landing at a skid atop the caboose. He dove forward, his forehoof threading through the slack of his weapon's scabbard. In one smooth motion, he threw the sheath over his back as he stood to his hooves once again. He had no choice now: either he did what needed to be done, or his opponent would.

The riflepony tore Thumper out of its scabbard, racking the lever-action with a familiar flick of his wrist. As he reared onto his hindhooves, the gun's fractured forestock fell into his right hoof. He spotted the stallion flying toward him once again, this time through the iron sights of a powerful weapon. He had no decision to make this time; only action to take.

Two brass shells flew out of the top of Thumper's receiver, following two resounding explosions of gunpowder. Blood and feathers burst from either side of the speeding pegasus, eliciting a cry of agony and a compromised trajectory. The blue pony hit the top of the caboose, his momentum carrying him forward at a blinding pace. Braeburn sidestepped his body, hooking a foreleg around the pegasus' neck. The riflepony brought him up, slamming the pegasus onto his back with all his might. Thumper whirled around his hoof once again as he chambered a new round, engaging the hammer. The barrel of the weapon came to a halt, pressed into his attacker's neck. The pegasus grunted in pain, his face contorted with rage. Small pools of blood formed around his body, underneath what remained of his wings. Braeburn didn't look at the damage he had caused, but focused his unyielding gaze into the eyes of his victim.

"Where is Sure Shot?!" he roared into his face, his hoof wrapped around the trigger. "What's his plan and what book is he lookin' for?!"

"I don't know what he sees in you," the pegasus growled, his throat vibrating against the end of Thumper's barrel. "You ask such stupid questions, you know that?"

Braeburn pressed the rifle further into his neck, adrenaline still fresh in his mind. "Answer the question!"

The broken stallion wheezed, his eyes half-lidded as he teetered on the edge of consciousness. "Figure it out...yourself...Colt of the West..."

With a swift hoof, the blue pony swatted away the barrel of the rifle, rolling out of Braeburn's grasp. Before he could stop him, the pegasus rolled off the side of the roof, falling to the ground and tumbling into the darkness. The riflepony stared at the spot where he disappeared, his expression grave as he sheathed the rifle on his back. Braeburn let out a grunt, wincing as the pain returned to his chest. He stared into the darkness for a moment or two, his mind racing as he tried to put the pieces together.

"What're ya' after, Sure Shot?"

Five - A Dark Tomorrow

“Keep going.”

“What? Sir, I can’t do that!”

“Well that’s too bad, because you have to.”

“I-I don’t have any magic left!” stammered a light blue unicorn. Sweat matted his disheveled teal mane to his forehead, his yellow eyes dark with fatigue. Even under the pale moonlight, Sparks’ exhaustion was all too visible. His words were accompanied with heavy panting, his entire form swaying back and forth. The unicorn felt his eyelids grow heavy, his muddled mind working on minimal capacity. He winced as a small spark of light erupted from his horn, fizzling into nothingness before it could even come close to the ground. However, his anguish didn’t seem to deter the dark purple earth pony approaching him.

Sure Shot walked over to the unicorn as slowly as possible, his previous haste gone from his narrowing eyes. He stopped before the shorter pony, tilting his head slightly as he brushed his careless black mane from his brow. Before placing his hoof back to the ground, he dusted the dirt from his black vest, chuckling softly. His laugh was enough to instill an almost visible shiver from Sparks, the earth pony’s voice full of menace. Sure Shot watched with disinterested eyes as the other stallion’s horn discharged another pinpoint of azure light, fizzling down to the train tracks underhoof.

“It seems you still have plenty more,” he said plainly, his lips tilting into a small smirk. He turned his head back, lifting a hoof to point to his object of focus. Protruding from the tree line miles away was a modest skyline, a few of the buildings brightly illuminated. "Baltimare is right there, less than ten miles away. Teleportation is your specialty, is it not?"

"Nopony can keep doing this," Sparks retorted. He gestured to the three other ponies around them. "Appleloosa to Dodge, then to the Eastern Rail Line, and now you want me to take us to Baltimare?!"

"You knew the plan."

"But you didn't say anything about getting to Horseshoe Bay from Appleloosa in a single night!" Sparks shot back, desperation in his voice. His sentence was followed with a hacking cough, his chest heaving. None of the earth ponies around him seemed to even notice his plight, least of all their leader.

Sure Shot turned his unwavering gaze back to the unicorn, exhaling calmly through his nostrils. "Things have changed. You were there when Coltwell told us of the archaeologist's destination after our meeting in Appleloosa. Did you not get the memo?"

Sparks' face contorted with an angered confusion. "What does some mare have to do with any of this?"

"Now, now," the purple stallion started, his tones almost soothing. "Don't think that you don't know of her significance. You know what that pony found; the book we're looking for."

"Wait, this is about some old journal?" Sparks questioned, bewildered. "What-"

"What did you think I was doing in Dodge Junction before I met you all in Appleloosa?" Sure Shot asked, his smirk slowly disappearing. "The clues we have found all point to Cunning the Colt, and he depicted his entire life in a book, one that Daring Do has a copy of. I told you before; that book was nowhere in her home, meaning that she must be keeping it on her or somewhere else. Meaning that we have to head her off and take it. Are you getting it now?"

A few chuckles were shared between Gun Powder and an earth mare, whose name hadn't been known to Sparks as of yet. The unicorn paid them no further attention, nor the other pegasus stallion hidden behind Gun Powder. Sure Shot inched his head forward, his expression inquisitive.

"Alright, I understand," the unicorn answered, doing his best to keep his fatigue from becoming anger. "But that doesn't change the fact that there isn't a way in Equestria for me to teleport us all the way to Baltimare tonight. I'm sorry sir, but-"

"When I took you off the street, before I went to jail..." Sure Shot interjected, his voice growing more and more dangerous with every word. The purple stallion's demeanor shifted, his stance hostile. Sparks felt himself gulp involuntarily, his weary mind starting to panic. "...I warned you that this job required the best from you. I told you that there wasn't such a thing as 'giving up,' and that there was only progress. I told you that when we succeed, your efforts would be rewarded. However, without the effort, you are useless to me. Now I will tell you once more: take us to Baltimare, or I will show you just how disposable quitters are to me."

Sparks' immediate reaction to anger was retorting with either sarcasm or even more anger. His dwindling reserves of magic reflexively darted to his horn, as if to defend himself against the other stallion's threat. But he knew what could happen; what would happen if he even tried. Sparks wouldn't be the first unicorn that Sure Shot would have taken down. He had witnessed the riflepony do amazing yet terrifying things in the short time that they had been around each other, and he wasn't about to be on the business end of his weapon. Despite his frustration and exhaustion, he needed to keep going. If he didn't, he wouldn't gain the money and freedom he was promised.

The blue unicorn exhaled, starting to gather his composure. "This could kill me, sir."

Sure Shot's malevolent grin returned, sending a chill down Sparks' spine. "I assure you that it won't. From here to Baltimare, that's it. No more questions; just actions."

Sparks grimaced as the rest of their group gathered around him, forming a close circle. Sure Shot never took his gaze away from him, furthering the unicorn's stress. On top of his dwindling consciousness, he couldn't take his mind off the many eyes staring expectantly at him. But the nagging thought of the riflepony taking his life drove his mind forward, rousing his limited magic to his horn. His ears folded back, blocking out the murmurs of the ponies around him. He clamped his eyes shut in concentration, surrounding them with a circle of energy. The unicorn grunted as a spark of pain shot through his head, splitting his skull in agony as he began the spell.

An azure light surrounded them as Sparks focused on the city of Baltimare; a place he had only been once before. He grunted in pain once more as the spell took its toll on him. With a flash of pale blue light, they were gone from the railroad tracks, reappearing elsewhere. The unicorn couldn't open his eyes to confirm the success of his spell. He merely fell forward, landing ungracefully on something cold and hard as concrete. He felt himself flicker in and out of consciousness, his brain alight with an oncoming migraine. He heard muffled voices above him, as if he was hearing them from the other side of a closed door. It felt like an eternity before their words became audible and coherent, his ears daring to lift from the sides of his head.

"Come on, unicorn," said a low, gruff voice. Sparks felt the sensation of being lifted from the ground, being placed on a veritable mattress of solid muscle. The unicorn allowed his limbs to go limp, depending on the stallion to carry him where they needed to go. Judging by the hushed voices around him, the blue stallion's spell had succeeded, although he wasn't sure just where in Baltimare he had brought them. But no sooner than when he relaxed atop Gun Powder's back was he prodded roughly on the forehead. Sparks opened his eyes wearily, startled to find himself still alive, let alone awake.

Sure Shot's dark purple face came into his blurry vision, his eyes gleaming in what he guessed to be a streetlight. "Look at that, Sparky: we got here in one piece," he smirked before patting him on the head like a dog. "Good on ya' buddy. You can just lay down and relax for now. We'll need you again in about twenty minutes."

Sparks grimaced, groaning quietly as his forelegs and head draped over Gun Powder's back. Unable to say anything more, the unicorn let his head fall, giving in to his fatigue.

Hooves galloped behind the riflepony, advancing toward him along with the sound of worried voices. Braeburn wheezed with every breath, his chest heaving in pain. His forelegs still shook with adrenaline, blood coursing violently through his veins. The earth pony barely acknowledged the two pegasi approaching him, his eyes staring unfocused into the darkness. A hoof turned his face around by the cheek, forcing him to look into the large amber eyes of a mare.

"Braeburn, are you alright?" asked Autumn Breeze, her expression dreadful. Her husband came into Braeburn's vision, his face mirroring hers. The riflepony shook his head, unaware of why his focus had faltered to such a degree. "We heard gunfire and then nothing, so we were worried."

"What happened, Braeburn?" Vapor asked impatiently, poking his muzzle into the earth pony's face. "Who was that?"

"Don't worry 'bout that," he replied quickly, taking a look behind him. The train had been traveling at full speed for the entire altercation. "Somepony needs to go back and find the stallion that got pulled outta the window!"

"The security guards know already," Vapor said, "they sent a pegasus to fly back and make sure he's okay."

Braeburn grit his teeth once more before allowing himself a sigh of relief, the adrenaline finally starting to die out. But in its absence, his chest was free to throb. He could still feel the pegasus' hooves, which heavily bruised the skin underneath his coat. He placed a subconscious hoof to his chest, attracting unwanted attention from Aerial's parents.

"Oh no, you're hurt," Autumn whispered, barely audible over the wind. She cast a wing over him as her husband guided Braeburn toward the front of the caboose. "Come on now, let's get you back inside."

The earth pony grimaced as he felt a sting of pain in his pectoral muscles, preventing him to walk at a brisk pace. With a nod of agreement, he allowed himself to be guided off the roof of the train car. Despite his smaller frame, Vapor Trail was able to fly him down to the lower platforms, carrying him by the shoulders. Braeburn closed his eyes during the descent, his mind dull with fatigue. He felt his hooves land on the end platform of the ahead of the caboose, his ears only catching the sound of cogs spinning and air blowing by. This wasn’t right. Something was going on beyond his understanding.

However, he didn’t have the time to think about it before his attention was caught by the pegasus that had carried him down to the platform. Vapor prodded him on the shoulder, forcing him to open his eyes. Braeburn complied, finding himself being wrapped into a hug by the two pegasi. The riflepony recoiled in response, unaware of what instilled such an action in the ponies that barely knew him. In his fatigue, the earth pony only chuckled humbly, unable to return the embrace. Vapor let him go only a second before his wife did.

“Thank you so much, Braeburn,” said Autumn, sharing the same appreciative smile as her husband.

“Yeah, if it weren’t for you, this night could have turned out a lot worse,” Vapor agreed. But before he could continue, Braeburn put up a hoof to stop him.

“Ah appreciate yer kind words, Ah really do,” he started, his breath slow and ragged. “But that stallion wasn’t after the train; he was after-”

“Braeburn, why don’t you tell us in our booth inside? It’s kind of chilly out tonight,” Vapor interrupted, although not without a smile. Braeburn exhaled through his nose, nodding in agreement as the other stallion slid the door of the car open.

Unlike before, the previously half-empty train car was now filled with curious and fearful ponies, their heads snapping over to the trio entering the threshold. Most were passengers, including some that were evidently from other cars. Others were employees of the line, all wearing the blue vests and caps. Aerial Ace popped out from her family’s booth, relief in her wide eyes at the sight of them. She fluttered her tiny wings, flying over the crowd with surprising speed. The filly landed in front of her parents, receiving a quick hoof through her mane from her father.

Aerial turned to Braeburn, her expression bright. “Did you do it? Did you get that bad pony out there?”

The earth stallion smiled, although halfheartedly. “Yeah, he won’t be coming ‘round here no more.”

“Now just what in the hay was all that about?” came a low, angry voice. Wading through the crowd was an older unicorn mare, possibly Bullet Tyme’s age. She had a coat of dull pink, complemented by her maroon conductor’s jacket. Her mane and tail were short and blonde, combed backward to give her an intimidating look. Her small olive eyes were glaring directly at Braeburn, whom recoiled slightly at her hostile expression. The train car went silent as the middle-aged unicorn approached the riflepony, looking him over with evident judgment. Braeburn only smiled politely, nervous under her gaze despite the drastic height difference.

“What kind of trouble have you caused on my train, boy?” the conductor almost yelled at him, craning her neck to glare up at him.

“Whoa, Ma’am! Ah didn’t cause no trouble here!” Braeburn replied reflexively.

“That’s right!” Vapor chimed in, instilling nods from the other passengers around them. “This stallion just saved this entire train from some bandit! If he wasn’t here, who knows what could have happened.”

Braeburn wished that his Stetson wasn’t across a small sea of ponies, for all he wanted to do was hide his eyes from sight. He felt a sheepish grin form on his face as the ponies around gave him an appreciative smile at Vapor’s words. The conductor, however, was not so easily turned. She never took her suspicious glare away from the riflepony, her beady eyes looking right into his.

“Ma’am,” came a new voice, belonging to an approaching stallion. “He has his permit. Graves took a look before he was...well, dragged out the window. Sapphire went after him. Now I didn't see just what happened up on the roof, but I see this earth pony and not that pegasus anymore. With all due respect, put two and two together, Ma’am.”

“Is that so?” she said in a low voice. “Well, I’ll make sure to have my staff keep an eye on you."

With a huff of disapproval, the conductor turned on a hoof, pacing back toward the front of the train as the crowd filed well away from her path. Only one of the members of the train staff followed her, leaving the stallion that defended Braeburn to oversee the car. When the hot-tempered mare closed the door behind herself, the small crowd stomped their hooves, as well as voiced their approval of the riflepony's deed with sparse cheers. Braeburn allowed himself a small, proud smile at their appreciation, but ultimately held up a shaking hoof to quell their scattered applause.

"Now, now, Ah thank ya'll fer yer gratitude and whatnot, but Ah think Ah need some rest," he said with a smile, thankful to see them immediately obey. The ponies that had arrived from the other train cars exited through the doors, while the rest settled themselves back into their booths. As Braeburn and the trio of pegasi returned to their seats, he spotted a few curious passengers covertly turn their heads back, trying to get a final look at the stallion. The earth pony ignored their momentary gazes, and merely settled down in his previous seat, although painfully. His chest did take some heavy bruising, but he knew that they would heal within the week. He just hoped that it wouldn't slow him down in the future.

"What happened, Braeburn?" Aerial Ace chirped, standing on her seat next to her father in excitement. "Are you okay? Is that bad pony really gone? Oh! Did you...kill him?"

"Aerial!" her mother hissed in disapproval.

"What?" the filly asked, purely confused. "I'm just asking."

"That's not something for you to ask," Autumn spoke firmly, although not without her motherly tones. "And I'm sure Braeburn needs some sleep, as do we all."

"Aw, but Mom, I can't sleep now!" she argued, despite her blue eyes bearing dark circles underneath them. When her parents hesitated finding an answer, Braeburn leaned forward toward the filly, catching her gaze.

"Now Aerial, ya'll have a long trip ahead o' ya'," he said with a smile. "And Ah'm not gonna be around once ya' head toward Los Pegasus. If somethin' happens, don't ya' wanna be able to defend yer parents with that gift o' yers?"

"Of course!"

"Well ya' won't be able to do that with no sleep, will ya'?" Braeburn smirked.

"Alright..." Aerial sighed, knowingly beaten.

It wasn't long before the filly, as well as most of the passengers, were slumbering quietly in the booths of the train car. A few strangers bid Braeburn good night, thanking him once more for his deeds before falling asleep. As the hours drew by, the earth pony watched as the lucky passengers around him were able to almost instantly fall into a deep sleep. Braeburn snorted quietly, lying down in his seat with his chin rested on his foreleg, the majority of his body covered by his warm duster. His eyes felt heavy, half-lidded and unfocused. He hadn't rested in an unknown amount of time, the events of the day preventing such a privilege. Even when talking to the family of pegasi in the booth around him, his mind wouldn't stop racing.

The pegasus stallion found Braeburn with a goal: to find a book. He spoke as if the earth pony knew what he was talking about, as if this book held some sort of deep meaning. But even hours after the altercation, he knew not of the bandit's meaning. Braeburn wasn't much of a reader, aside from his old obsession with the Daring Do series. So why would the bandit think he had some sort of tome of any significance? As he could recall, his bookshelf only bore two novels, both telling the tale of the monochromatic archaeologist, along with a few folders holding his financial records and other miscellaneous papers. Other than that, Braeburn only had his personal journal, as well as a copy of...

Braeburn shot up to a sitting position, his pupils shrinking to mere pinpricks in realization. He immediately dove his hoof into the inner pocket of his duster, pulling out the folded letter from Gunmetal Grey. He scanned the first paragraph for a moment, his eyes fixating on a single sentence:

I didn't know what was going on until I saw him barge out of an apartment building on the edge of town.

The earth pony winced, remembering only one apartment building on the edge of Dodge Junction's borders. Daring's name had been made public over a year ago, along with the information of her copy of Cunning the Colt's diary. His copy, however, wasn't something that needed to be mentioned. Evidently Sure Shot was looking for it, and getting it from Daring would be easier than the museum in Canterlot. But what would he want with the diary? As far as Braeburn knew, it was just a written record of Cunning's life, and nothing more. Was there something in those pages that would help Sure Shot's unknown cause? But none of that explained why that pegasus was sent to retrieve it from Braeburn. Nopony knew of his copy of the diary, except for maybe Daring, Gunmetal Grey, his father and Little Strongheart. Perhaps Sure Shot thought that Braeburn knew of the archaeologist's copy and maybe even its whereabouts.

Braeburn put the pieces he had together, his brow furrowed in thought. If he sent a pony to track him, then that meant they couldn't find Daring nor her copy of the diary. So why hadn't they just stolen the real one from the museum? Fueling his curiosity, the stallion stood up and trotted quietly up the aisle, finding a map of the Equestrian railroads pinned on the wall next to the front door of the car. Using the moonlight from the window on the left, Braeburn found the dot marked 'Canterlot.' Even with the lack of scaled distances, he knew the capital to be much farther than his location from Dodge Junction. Not to mention the two towns and a mountain to climb in between. Even for a pegasus, Canterlot would be an extensive journey without the use of a train.

So that meant that Sure Shot and his bandits were unable to find Daring's copy of the diary, and instead sent the blue pegasus to see if Braeburn knew of its location. Daring must have been somewhere far off to not be found by anypony, even the bandit leader and his gang. Braeburn's exhausted mind hit a wall at the thought of her, unwilling to be objective anymore. His thoughts swam through memories of the pegasus, fueled by his lack of rest. His brain only wanted to think about what was ailing him now, and nothing more. The stallion swore under his breath, his forehead resting on the wall as he closed his eyes.

"If you were here right now, you'd figure this out in a right hurry, wouldn't ya'?" he whispered to himself, his mind clouded and unable to think any longer.

"I hate to intrude..." came a hushed voice, causing Braeburn to whip himself around in fright. He found Autumn Breeze, her tired expression also carrying a sense of worry. She lacked her previous floral-patterned shirt, exposing her flawless off-white coat. Her dual-toned auburn mane and tail were only slightly disheveled, as if her beauty knew no down sides of sleep. "...but are you alright, Braeburn?"

"Y-Yeah," he whispered back, careful not to wake any of the passengers around them. Autumn cocked an eyebrow, tilting her head as she approached the stallion.

"You don't seem fine, if you don't mind me saying," she replied, concern in her voice. Braeburn exhaled through his nose, casting another glance around the car.

"It's nothin', really," he said reflexively, pacing around the mare toward the rear of the car. He heard her turn around, and almost felt the worry on her face increase.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Just gonna get some fresh air," he answered plainly, approaching the door and sliding it open. As the cool air hit his face, his eyes instantly opened and awoke his dreary mind. "And Ah imagine that yer not gonna let this go, so we might as well talk where we won't wake anypony."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Autumn nodding with a small amount of surprise on her face. The mare followed him through the open door, closing it behind them. Braeburn reared up, draping his forelegs over the guardrail of the train car's rear dock, his eyes looking toward the vast expanse of desert flying by. The cold night air whipped through his mane, the lapel of his duster cast to the left side of his chest. It was almost relaxing, watching the moon's light cast a pale blue glow over the land. He momentarily played with the idea of another one of Sure Shot's bandits finding him, but cast it aside in his fatigue.

Autumn Breeze shook her flowing mane from her eyes, mirroring his position to his right. She gave him a sidelong glance, as if she wasn't sure if speaking first was a good idea.

"You and yer husband sure are keen on makin' sure Ah'm alright," Braeburn thought aloud, his gaze still on the shadow-laden horizon. "Now Ah appreciate kindness in any form, but ya'll don't really know me all too well."

"You are a good pony, that's all we need to know," Autumn said matter-of-factly, as if it were common knowledge.

"And where d'ya get that?" he snorted.

"I'm fairly certain that what you did tonight is explanation enough, not to mention what we have read about you. But then there's also you saving our lives in Appleloosa," she explained. "Now I have to be honest with you; my husband and I were quite skeptical when we heard about you in the papers. Our daughter, of course, immediately idolized you. We didn't think that there was really a pony out here related to the mythical Colt of the West, not to mention one that stood for good, not bad. However, it was truly inspiring to see that we were vastly incorrect. Not only were the papers accurate, but compared to what you really are, the articles are humbling by comparison."

"Oh?"

"Yes," she continued. "You are something they failed to see in you: a symbol of justice. You are certainly a rarity to pony society, Braeburn."

"Ah was just doin' what was right, is all," he said, repeating himself for the umpteenth time. "Ah wouldn't quite say anything like that."

"Do you who does things like that?" she replied with a warm smile. In his silence, she answered: "A hero."

"Ah hate to disappoint ya', Autumn, but the stallion that attacked the train wasn't just some bandit lookin' fer his pay," Braeburn said solemnly. "He was after me. If Ah wasn't on this train, ya'll would have just enjoyed a nice, quiet ride to Dodge."

"You?" she repeated, slightly confused. "Was he with those criminals from Appleloosa?"

"Yeah," he answered before looking back to her. "That was why Ah wanted ya'll to be far away from me. The purple earth pony, their leader, is called Sure Shot. He broke outta jail, and now he's lookin' fer somethin'. Ah don't know what it is, but he's got a whole lotta help backin' him up. Whatever he's up to, Ah don't like the smell of it. So I'm off to Dodge to meet somepony about my equipment before Ah make any more moves forward."

"So if you're not a hero, then why are you going through all of this? Why not just report it to the authorities up North?" Autumn asked.

"Because Ah..." he trailed off, searching for an answer. "...Because Ah have to. If Ah just sat in Appleloosa, who knows what Sure Shot would do before anypony could stop him."

"Do you know what his plan is?"

"No, and that's what scares me the most," said Braeburn. "But nothin' 'bout what Ah've found so far has made me feel any better about it. Every clue Ah find makes me more afraid of what he's up to."

Autumn sighed, looking back to the desert they were riding through, her eyelids lowering in contemplation. Braeburn took the silence as an opportunity to let his thoughts wander back to his heart's desire. However, he wasn't free for long before Autumn's silken voice brought him back to reality: "Ohhh...I know that look."

Braeburn turned his head back toward the mare, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry, must'a drifted off fer a moment."

"What's her name?" she asked, a sly grin on her face. Braeburn only cracked a smirk in response, wondering how in Equestria he was so easy to read. "Oh, is it that mare from the papers? The archaeologist?"

"Ya' got it," he said meekly, not excited to talk about her once again. He expected Autumn to say the same thing that everypony else had said many a time before; meaningless advice that could never aid him in such a situation. At this point, Braeburn had started to think that she would never return. It was a somber thought, but one that was nothing but realistic now. However, his melancholy was broken by the mare's next few words; a simple question that knocked the earth pony off his narrow line of equilibrium.

"You love her, don't you?"

Braeburn froze, feeling his forelegs clench around the railing he was leaning on. He turned away from the pegasus, exhaling heavily through his nose. Autumn only looked at him as the stallion kept his silence for several moments. The only sounds that filled the cold night air were the chugging of the train and the seldom chirps of the birds overhead. Braeburn felt his heart leap into his throat, a response impossible to form. The word was something he had thought of only a few times before. He had never known its true meaning before, so comparing his feelings for the archaeologist to such an emotion was difficult. However, Braeburn couldn't justify confirming such a thing without being absolutely sure.

The stallion sighed once more, leaning his left cheek on a forehoof. It was a thought that made him question his entire relationship with the mare he had come to know so well; so personally. Did she feel the same way? Would she come back even if she did?

"That's a mighty strong word," he said finally, breaking the silence.

"That's not a 'no,'" Autumn replied, her smile still there.

Braeburn chuckled, pushing off the railing and landing on all fours. The white mare did the same, tilting her head at him curiously. The earth pony approached the door to their train car, sliding it open carefully as to not wake anypony inside. He turned his head back at Autumn Breeze, giving her a tired smile. "No, Ah reckon it's not."

The earth pony rested calmly that night, if only for a few hours. He would never had guessed that thinking of Daring could bring him a night of dreamless sleep, but he was surprised to find himself waking with a small smile on his face. However, he was disturbed to find his ears folding back at the high-pitched wail of the train's whistle, signaling their arrival to Dodge Junction. The earth pony wearily sat up to his haunches, cracking his back in several places as he rose. Braeburn rubbed the sleep from his eyes, groaning as he was rocked back and forth by the shoulders.

"Braeburn, come on!" said the voice of a filly. "Wake up! We gotta go before the train leaves again!"

"Aerial, let the poor boy wake up without somepony yelling at him," came Vapor Trail's voice, with a small chuckle. Braeburn opened his eyes, finding himself almost blinded by the morning sun's light through the dusty window of the booth. Around him the passengers of the train car were filing out the doors, all carrying their saddlebags and other luggage. In a half-awake hurry, Braeburn scooped his bags and rifle up from the floor of the booth, swinging them onto his back in one clumsy motion.

"But she is right, Braeburn. We'd better get a move on," said Vapor, prodding him forward and out of the booth. In a dreary state of semi-consciousness, he complied, following the family of pegasi off the train and onto the platform. Ponies filled the area, either arriving or leaving by way of the train. Braeburn yawned widely, placing a polite hoof over his mouth as he and the trio of pegasi stopped on the corner of the platform and out of everypony else's way. As he awoke, he found the family standing directly in front of him, looking solemn but content. The earth pony smirked with realization, understanding that it was their time to leave.

"Well, we all have our places to go," said Vapor, offering his hoof, which Braeburn shook. "It sure was nice to meet you, Braeburn. I hope we'll see you again."

"Yeah, we will see you again, right?" asked Aerial hopefully, looking up to Braeburn with her large, blue eyes. He couldn't say no to such a face, even if he couldn't see them again.

"O' course. Feel free to swing by Appleloosa anytime you three want," Braeburn said, giving the filly a small bump of the hoof. But before he bid farewell to the young riflepony, he bent his neck down to meet her gaze, saying in a small voice: "Oh, and don't worry 'bout that competition. Ah'm pretty sure ya' would o' won anyhow."

Aerial Ace smiled brightly, nodding in thanks. With that, the four of them said their goodbyes, along with a discreet wink from Autumn Breeze. Braeburn nodded back to her, thankful for her kind words from the previous night. As they turned around to leave, an idea came to his mind at the sight of an open pocket in Vapor's saddlebag. He remembered what his father said about Aerial's parent's, and what they had mentioned in conversation the night before. They had been incredibly nice to him; a pony that hadn't even met before. They deserved something nice to happen to them as well.

He thanked Celestia for the noisy crowd around them as he snuck up behind Vapor Trail, dropping a small bag of coins into the opening of his bag. Before the pegasus could look around, Braeburn was gone, hidden in the mass of ponies upon the train platform. The earth pony exhaled once he escaped the crowd, able to breathe again. He now stood in Dodge Junction's main street, where only a few ponies dared to venture. Even the ones that were outside seemed to walk with extreme care, as if another disaster were about to strike the town. A few of them even flinched at the sight of Thumper's butt-stock behind his shoulder, to which he smiled reassuringly in response.

Braeburn shook his tired mind awake, bringing his thoughts back to the task at hoof. It wasn't long before he arrived at Gunmetal's shop, which he found locked tight. There were no lights in the windows, but he could still see the closed sign posted on the other side of the pane. Confused, Braeburn rapped on the door with a hoof, loud enough for the better part of the street to hear. He waited impatiently upon the doormat, tapping a hindhoof against the small section of carpet. After what felt like several minutes of knocking and waiting, the stallion's head whipped up as the front door was unlocked and opened a few centimeters. In the small gap, Braeburn spotted a dull blue eye, looking him over quickly before the door was opened.

On the other side of the threshold stood a tall unicorn stallion with a coat the color of ash. He had a messy mane and tail, long and dark brown with thin streaks of gray. Gunmetal Grey sighed in relief at the sight of Braeburn, his eyes darting back and forth around the street behind him. "Braeburn, there ya' are. Come on in, quickly."

Before he could say a word, Braeburn was pulled into the dark interior of the shop by his duster, sliding across the floorboards on his hooves. With a flash of white light, four lanterns ignited in all the corners of the room, illuminating the shop. On the walls were racks of rifles, some old and some new. On the counter were a couple of piles of papers, presumably purchase records not yet organized. The rest of the shop, however, seemed clean and well-cared for, just like it always had been. As Braeburn cast his curious glance around, Gunmetal closed and bolted the front door shut behind him.

"Ah was gettin' worried 'bout ya', boy," he said, his accent as thick as Bullet Tyme's.

"Ah took the earliest train Ah could, Gunmetal," Braeburn answered.

"Right, well come on out back with me. Ah imagine yer in a right hurry," the gunsmith replied, gesturing for him to follow. Braeburn complied, trotting in Gunmetal's hoofsteps around the counter and through a threshold without a door. Gunmetal's horn flashed once more, lighting a lantern hanging from the ceiling of the new room. The workshop was illuminated, revealing a number of dismantled guns upon cluttered benches and stools. But before the riflepony could take a detailed look around, he felt Thumper leave the scabbard on his back, levitated by the gunsmith's magic. "Let's take a look at Thumper here; see if everything's alright."

The gruff unicorn winced his eyes, and the old Marechester instantly burst forth into a veritable cloud of parts, screws and pins. Braeburn recoiled, having never before seen his trusty rifle disassembled to such a degree. As soon as the tubular magazine was free from the receiver, several long brass cartridges fell into a strategically-placed box atop the bench in the middle of the shop. Braeburn watched in awe as Gunmetal worked his magic, taking apart the final pieces of the bolt and the trigger mechanism. His dull blue eyes focused on a narrow, steel rod with an ever thinner end. "It's a good thing ya' came, Brae. Yer firing pin was about ta' snap in two."

"What? What could cause that?" he asked, worried.

"Age," Gunmetal said simply. "Every part in this here '94 is original; hundreds o' years old. Yer lucky they lasted this long. The firing pin is also gettin' slammed by a heavy mainspring, which also needs ta' be replaced. Quite frankly, Ah've never seen nothin' like this. Marechesters are known fer their reliability, but havin' workin' parts after this long? Ah would'a called it impossible if it wasn't in front o' me right now."

"How much is this all gonna cost?" Braeburn asked, suddenly questioning if he needed to visit a bank or not. Gunmetal, however, only snorted in response. While the unicorn levitated the plethora of parts in the air, he used another glow of magic to open a drawer on the wall marked 'Pre-64 1894.' Floated over to the unicorn by means of a white glow were a couple of sear-springs, as well as a new firing pin and an L-shaped piece of silver metal. As quick as lightning, Gunmetal dropped the old parts and springs, replacing them with the new ones. With another wince of his eyes, the gunsmith reassembled the rifle, the parts coming together flawlessly as the screws tightened in their respective holes. With a nod, the unicorn floated Thumper back over to its owner, who couldn't wipe the awe from his face. Gunmetal used his magic once more, shoving the rounds back through the cartridge gate. Bewildered, Braeburn sat up on a stool, taking the rifle in his forehooves.

"Wow," he muttered.

"There, ya' got a new mainspring, new sears, firing pin, carrier and some fresh screws," Gunmetal explained. "Thumper's as good as new. Now, there's that other weapon Ah told ya' 'bout..."

The unicorn ignited his horn again, and a long, wooden box floated over from a bench on the opposing wall. He set it down in front of Braeburn, who sheathed Thumper once more. Gunmetal paced over, placing a hoof over the lid of the box. His expression was stern, even more so than usual. Braeburn waited patiently for him to speak, exhaling a deep breath.

"Now Brae, Ah know Ah said that this rifle was a gift ta' ya', but this gun comes with a warning," Gunmetal spoke, seriousness in his low voice. "This ain't no ordinary rifle; this here is a serious tool of destruction, in the right hooves, o' course. Ah've put my heart n' soul into this gun fer the past five years, and Ah think it should be in your possession."

"Can Ah ask a question?"

"Ah'd rather ya' did it now rather than later," Gunmetal replied.

"If this thing is as important as ya' say it is, then why give it to me?"

The gunsmith cracked a thin smile. "'Cause Ah know that ya' won't rest until those bandits are either dead or in jail. Now, d'ya have any more stupid questions?"

Braeburn laughed aloud, replying with a shake of his head. At that, Gunmetal removed his hoof from the lid of the box before settling himself on a stool on the other side of the bench. The riflepony felt his muscles tense with apprehension as his hooves made contact with the lid of the long box. It was as if the crate contained some sort of long-forgotten relic of divine power, something he didn't feel worthy of. He entertained the thought of how Daring Do must have felt whenever she uncovered a priceless artifact. Perhaps it was something similar to this excitement. After a short moment of hesitation, Braeburn slowly opened the box.

His eyes immediately flew open at the sight of reflective brass shining brightly in his face, causing him to recoil slightly. Before him was a rifle unlike what he had ever seen before. Instead of blued steel, the long receiver was made of brass, tinting his reflection with a bright gold. Unlike Thumper, the new rifle's receiver was fitted with a brass access plate on each side. The cartridge gate was shorter than a .30-30, indicating the use of a different round. As if the beautiful center of the gun wasn't enough, the hoof-carved stocks were glossy and tinged a bright burgundy, the grain wavy and even somewhat reflective under the coats of fresh wax. At the end of the forestock was a brass endcap, contrary to Thumper's steel band. The barrel of the new weapon was also different. It was octagonal, as well as a few inches shorter than what he was used to. Behind the cartridge gate was a sliding lever, its purpose unknown to Braeburn. He figured that Gunmetal would explain it to him.

But what caught his attention the most was the lever of the rifle. Instead of the dual-looped lever that a Marechester had, this one bore a single loop that worked the entire action, and even acted as the trigger guard. Braeburn picked up the weapon, reveling in its unrivaled pulchritude. He gasped as he turned the face of the receiver away from the lantern's light. Etched into the reflective brass was a multitude of rolling scrollwork, the ends of the lines swaying upward in graceful curls. The newer style of the engraving almost filled both sides of the gun, but not enough to make it look too cluttered. It didn't even look like a gun meant for practical use, but simply for show. He even felt a little uncomfortable holding it, like a prized museum piece out of its case.

"Gunmetal..." the earth pony breathed. "Did you really...make this?"

"Naw, Celestia was in town and did it herself," said the gunsmith, heavy with sarcasm. "What? Ya' think Ah can't build a nice gun?"

"Ah had no idea that ya' built guns in the first place," said Braeburn, amazed.

"Ah don't like ta' advertise it," said Gunmetal flatly, folding his forelegs. "If Ah did, Ah'd have ponies comin' from all over. Not into that kinda' attention."

Braeburn shook his head, looking back to the articulate rifle in his hooves as the gunsmith continued: "Now before ya' run off with that thing, there's a few things ya' need'ta now 'bout it."

The unicorn floated a small cardboard box over to the bench from the other side of the room, along with a wallet-sized metallic box, a latch keeping the lid shut. He then pointed to the rifle's brass receiver with a hoof, starting a steady flow of explanation of its workings: "Now ya' haven't seen a rifle like this fer a reason; the shape of the receiver takes the design of a Marechester Model 1873, but it's made o' brass like the 1866 Yellow Colt. Inside ya' got yer toggle-link action, with a short-stroke kit fer quicker cyclin'. Up front is yer octagonal barrel. It'll be more balanced, more heat resistant, and most important of all; more accurate."

As Gunmetal listed off the features of the weapon, Braeburn tried to comprehend his words. He may had learned quite a lot about rifles in the past year and a half, but he still wasn't a scholar in the field. Feeling as if he were pressed for time, the earth pony only tried to understand what he could. He could only assume that it was all for the good.

"Whaddya call this kinda' weapon then?" asked Braeburn, unable to take his eyes off the ornate scrollwork.

"Unique, if anything," he chuckled.

Gunmetal dragged the larger box of the two in front of himself, flicking it open with the edge of his hoof. He turned it over, carefully dumping a single cartridge in front of Braeburn. "This beauty takes two different kinds of ammunition. Yer primary is the .45 Colt. Not quite what Thumper's .30-30 can deliver, but it'll still take down a pony without a problem. And then...there's the other ammo this lil' devil takes."

The unicorn levitated the smaller metallic box in the air, flicking open the latch to reveal ten rounds of glossy, burgundy cartridges. Braeburn's eyes lit up at the sight of the abnormal rounds, noticing that they lacked a bullet on their ends. But before he could ask, Gunmetal explained what they were: "Meet my other creation: the .45 Dragon's Breath."

Braeburn's eyebrows shot upward, the very name of the caliber throwing him off-guard. "Dragon's Breath? What in the hay is that?"

"The kinda round Sure Shot only wishes he could get his hooves on," said Gunmetal smugly, folding his forelegs again. "Unlike a normal rifle cartridge, these lil' devils don't fire bullets."

"What do they fire, then? Hopes and dreams?" asked Braeburn sarcastically.

The gunsmith, however, did not seem in a joking mood. "These here rounds are what makes this gun more dangerous than others, Braeburn. Ah want ya' ta' take this seriously. The .45 Dragon's Breath is a tool only meant to raise heck. Lemme warn ya', boy: do not use any o' them unless it's absolutely necessary. These are a last-ditch effort to keep yourself or others alive."

Braeburn exhaled. "What do they...well, do?"

"What d'ya think the name is for, Brae?" Gunmetal chided. "It's not somethin' you can explain; it's somethin' that can only be shown. Unfortunately, showin' ya' would spend one o' those rounds. And those are the only ten Ah made. They're darned expensive ta' make."

"Are they what this slidin' lever is here for, then?" Braeburn guessed.

"Well look at that, yer not as dumb as ya' look," Gunmetal chided. "This gun's got a revolving carrier system in it, meaning that it can load rounds into the chamber from two different magazines in the gun. The .45 Colts go in the normal tubular magazine up front. The Dragon's Breath rounds go through the rear stock. Ta' change yer ammo, ya' slide that bolt there. Frontward loads the Colts, rearward loads the Dragon's Breath rounds. But again; ya' don't pull back that bolt without it bein' absolutely necessary. Do ya' understand?"

"Yes, Ah understand," Braeburn breathed. "Gunmetal…Ah don’t know what to say, but…thank you."

“Yer welcome. Just remember what Ah told ya’ ‘bout that thing.”

Braeburn nodded. “Ah promise.”

“Alright, that’s outta the way,” Gunmetal said. “D’ya know what yer gonna do now?”

Braeburn paused, not knowing how to answer that. He placed the rifle back in its box, keeping his unfocused gaze on the engraved receiver. “Ah dunno. Ah have no idea what Sure Shot is up to. Ah have clues, but not enough to tell me what his plan is."

“How d’ya know he’s even got a plan?”

Realizing that the gunsmith hadn’t been told of the recent events, Braeburn recalled his encounters with Sure Shot and his gang from the previous day and night. He went over every detail that he could remember, hoping that Gunmetal could provide some helpful advice.

“So he’s after Cunning’s diary, huh?” the unicorn repeated, rubbing his chin in thought. “You let me read that, and Ah don’t recall nothin’ outta the ordinary in those pages.”

“Ah think he’s looking for somethin’ in those seemingly ordinary pages,” Braeburn commented, crossing his forelegs. “But if Ah’m right, he’s after Daring’s copy. It’d be a might easier to get her’s rather than the original one in Canterlot.”

“Maybe Sure Shot sent that pony after ya’ ta’ see if you knew where she was; where the diary was,” Gunmetal suggested.

The earth pony froze, a chilling theory forming in his mind. “So then…d’ya think he’s goin’ after Daring?”

Gunmetal exhaled, a grave look on his face. “If he needs that diary so badly, then Ah couldn’t imagine him not findin’ her. D’ya know where she might be?”

“No…” he replied quietly, leaning his cheek on a hoof. “Ah have no clue. What do Ah even do now? Sure Shot just teleported away and Ah haven’t seen Daring in over a year. Not to mention nopony knows where Coltwell is…”

“What about your father? Is he doin’ anything about all o’ this?”

“Him and Silverstar are in Appleloosa tryin’ to figure it all out too. What they’re doin’, Ah don’t have the faintest,” answered Braeburn. “What do Ah do now?”

Daring Do awoke in her temporary bed, a small smile remaining from a night full of blissful dreams. She shook her head, amused by her own vivid imagination. Mentally preparing herself for what was to come, the mare rose into a sitting position, the blankets still covering her hindlegs and lap. After a long stretch and a yawn, she found her olive-green shirt on the side of her bed and pulled it over her torso. However, it was a daunting task after such a restful slumber, and she received the help of another pony. The pegasus found Day Break behind her, finishing the job with her teeth. The yellow mare wore an expression of exasperation, practically dancing on her hooves with evident hurry.

“Finally! I thought you were going to sleep all day!” Day Break exclaimed before pointing a hoof to the window behind the bed. Daring turned around to find the sun clear over the horizon, which was no longer an expanse of sea. Now flying past their view was a vast forest, broken up only by a few lakes and rivers down below. They were still high in the air, but Daring knew that they were approaching their destination. She swallowed hard, keeping her thoughts off the creeping dread in the back of her mind. She shivered once, thankfully unnoticed by the other mare, who was trotting over to the other side of the cabin. The yellow mare took the white pith hat off its hook, tossing it to her friend. Daring instinctively caught it atop her head, adjusting it with a hoof.

“I forgot how early you wake up,” she said, giving Day Break a facetious look of annoyance.

“It’s my job to wake up early,” Day Break retorted, approaching Daring once again. “Otherwise Fillydelphia wouldn’t have such nice dawns to wake up to.”

“Right, weathermare. Forgot about that too.”

“I’d prefer to call myself an artist,” replied the yellow pegasus with a sarcastic flair in her voice. “And yeah, you tend to forget a lot of things about your friends.”

Daring raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t seen you in years!”

Day Break smirked, waving aside the apology. “Will you learn to take a joke? Come on, get ready so we can get this over with and get back to Equestria already. I’m dying to meet this stallion of yours.”

The dark mare furrowed her brow, scowling at the heat rising to her face. “Ugh, fine.”

“You sure did have a big smile on your face all night,” Day Break said with a chuckle.

“I slept well,” Daring agreed, sitting straighter now, her voice perking up. “I had a nice dream.”

“Well that makes sense. I think I heard you muttering a certain somepony’s name in your sleep,” the yellow mare teased, before stopping what she was doing to whip her head around at Daring with a mock look of disgust. “Ohhh…you had one of those dreams, didn’t you?”

Daring quirked a brow, confused. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously. A beat later the pieces came together in her mind, and Daring rolled her eyes with a scowl. “Oh come on.”

“You weird little filly,” the yellow mare teased. “When did you become so filthy-minded?”

“Day Break!” Daring exclaimed, her cheeks growing hot again. “Will you stop that already? Geeze…”

Her friend only laughed heartily, covering her mouth with a hoof as she cackled. “Oh my gosh. You are so much fun to mess with.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” the darker mare huffed. "Bright and early with the jokes. Perfect."

Daring Do rubbed the sleep from her eyes before throwing the covers off herself. With a tired huff, she rolled out of the bed and onto her hooves, stretching her limbs once more. She rolled her neck a few times, feeling well-rested for the first time in years. She smiled to herself, silently thanking Celestia for a great friend like Day Break. They had known each other long enough to get into the other’s head, and sometimes even change their mood with a simple conversation. The yellow mare had proven herself savvy in the field the previous night. All she had to do was talk about what made Daring Do happy, and that was enough to let her sleep well through the night. Daring checked the clock on the wall to find that it was already eleven in the morning. She hadn’t expected to arrive at the landing sight so soon, but didn’t complain in the slightest. As long as she could return to Dodge Junction as soon as possible, she was content.

The dark pegasus tightened the grip her hat had to her head as she opened the door to the front of the cabin. While she crossed the threshold, Day Break was busying herself by packing her bags with supplies. Daring nodded toward the distracted mare once before entering the cockpit of the airship.

The front room of the craft was in the shape of half a circle, the round wall made almost entirely out of thick panes of glass. Two large chairs were bolted into the wooden floor, both facing forward. Daring walked around the chair on the right, plopping herself down into the empty seat. The chair on the left, however, was occupied by the pilot of the aircraft. He was a taller stallion, with a coat of gray and a mane of jet-black, short and slicked backward. He gave the mare a quick smile before returning his attention to the controls in front of him.

“Morning, Artemis,” Daring greeted, followed by another yawn.

“Guess you slept pretty well then,” the stallion replied, his forehooves on the large, wooden wheel. “We’ll be landing in a few minutes. Just gotta find the…Ah! There it is!”

Daring leaned forward in her seat, peaking out through the glass to see what her godfather was pointing at. Just ahead was an interruption in the veritable sea of treetops. A large clearing in the forest came into view, the ground flat and the rocks lining its perimeter covered in moss. It had been a long time since their last visit to this rainforest, a day that had haunted her for years now. The pegasus scowled at the sight, unwilling to let the past affect her mood today. She kept her brow furrowed and her eyes sharp, searching the trees for any sign of activity. After a moment or two, she was satisfied that nothing was amiss and stood up from her chair.

“I’m going to help Day Break get ready,” she declared, her tone serious. “Do me a favor and make this landing quick. I don’t wanna be here longer than I have to.”

Artemis snorted. “Well okay then, Captain,” he answered sarcastically, clearly giving her sudden change of demeanor no thought. Daring was appreciative, for she was in no mood for talking about it. She was focused now; determined to arrive and leave in a timely manner. Without another word, she circled the chair once more and exited the cockpit, closing the door behind her. She found Day Break standing to the right, her nose practically against the glass as she peaked out the window. Her wide, ruby eyes traversed the rainforest below, clearly wondrous over the sight. Evidently packing her things had been a hurried chore, for her saddlebags were already slung over her back, her wings furled around them.

Daring didn’t bother to interrupt her sight-seeing, and instead found her already packed bags next to the bed. She quickly slung them over her back, adjusting the small sheathed knife fixed to the strap around her chest, making sure it was within drawing distance before she was satisfied. It certainly didn’t hurt to venture out into the rainforest prepared. She knew full and well that Ahuitzotl was secure in his enchanted imprisonment, but he wasn’t the only predator lurking in the trees out there.

She joined Day Break in front of the window, watching the treeline of the clearing draw closer to the bottom of the craft. Daring found herself shaking on her hooves, unable to wait any longer. The landing was taking too long. At this rate, the apprehension would kill her. "That's it."

Daring Do broke her gaze from the ground below, biting down on Day Break's bag. Ignoring her friend's cry of shock, the monochromatic mare dragged her friend toward the back of the cabin, only letting go to open the back door.

"What in the blue heck are you doing?" Day Break snapped, before being dragged down the narrow hallway on the other side of the threshold. "We'll land in a few minutes!"

"Too long," Daring stated flatly, pulling down a lever on the right wall. Several clicks echoed throughout the short hallway, and the floor ahead opened up like a door, forming a ramp leading to a hundred-hoof drop. The sound of the propellers grew louder, forcing Daring to yell over the noise: "We're going now! Follow me!"

The archaeologist let herself fall forward after running down the ramp, the wind whipping through her mane as she fell. She heard her friend make the descent right behind her, calling out her confusion. Daring paid her friend no attention as she came closer to the ground. Both pegasi threw their wings open just before they made impact, leveling out just above the dirt. They circled the left edge of the clearing, skidding to a halt on their hooves in front of the descending aircraft. Daring spotted Artemis' confused face through the cockpit window above, giving him a short salute. They only watched the large ship land for a few moments before Daring pulled her friend toward the path behind them.

The rainforest was just as Daring remembered it. The trees were tall, plentiful and teeming with life of all kinds. Even after only a few seconds, she was able to spot a few primates traversing the high branches above. The air was moist and full of the many sounds of the wild. Birds chirped, crowed and even screeched along with the cries of a plethora of varying species. Day Break had to stop, her neck craned upward and her eyes attempting to take in the many views. Daring remembered her first time outside of Equestria, and allowed her friend to enjoy her new surroundings.

"Wow...I didn't think it would be so...beautiful," she said quietly. Daring allowed herself a small smirk, temporarily slowing down her impatience. "A little humid, but still pretty."

"Yeah, and watch your step," Daring warned, starting back down the wide path. "Keep your ears and eyes sharp. We're in the wild, not a national preserve."

"With working wings, this time," Day Break commented with a short chuckle, following the archaeologist closely.

"Yeah, fortunately."

The path was never straight for long, for it had plenty of obstacles to bypass. Daring's old team had made it years ago, so she knew all of its curves and quirks by heart. Unfortunately, they weren't able to find a clearing closer to the temple, making their trek take the better part of an hour. Neither of them dared to take to the skies, saving their strength just in case of any sort of emergency. That, and the canopies of the treetops prevented them from finding their destination. While the archaeologist had a certain knack for direction, she was limited by the parameters of the forest.

The sun started to travel toward its apex for the day when the two pegasi arrived at the bank of a large stream. Day Break trotted off the path and toward the water, peaking at her reflection like a small filly seeing a natural body of water for the first time. Daring rolled her eyes impatiently, tapping her hoof on a rock with a scowl on her face.

"Day Break, I wanna get this done. Now," she stated flatly, her tone serious. The yellow mare turned her head back, her brow furrowed but her playful smile still curling her lips.

"Oh come on, Daring. I never get out of the city. This is huge for me," she argued, almost pouting. "Can I just have a few minutes to enjoy the outdoors?"

Daring snorted, adjusting her pith hat. "You're like a foal, you know that, right?"

"And you're like a grouchy old mare," the other pegasus mused. "It's like you said; we have all day. And resealing Ahuitzotl will only take half an hour anyway."

"Maybe you can sight-see after we're done with that?" Daring suggested, taking a look down the path ahead. "It's right down the..."

Daring trailed off once her eyes snapped to an interruption in the bushes to the right of the trail. She had an idea of what it was, but dreaded the very thought. She ignored Day Break's fascination with nature and trotted over to the anomaly in the forest floor. Every step felt like an eternity as she was slowly able to make out the details of what she was focused on. The mare shivered as she felt a bead of cold sweat roll down the side of her face, trepidation creeping up her spine. As she approached the spot of dirt, Daring Do gasped aloud. Between two halves of a crushed bush, was a deep indentation in the dirt. It was perfectly formed in the moist soil, as if it were dug by hoof as a work of art. But art, this wasn't. Art didn't instill a sensation of cold, absolute fear into a pony like this.

"Daring? What is it?"

The dark mare felt her pupils constrict as her forelegs began to tremble. Pressed into the forest floor was an enormous rear paw print, one that could only belong to one creature in the rainforest. It was twice the size of a stallion's head, pressed six inches into the ground. Dug even further into the earth were the sharp claws that protruded from the toes of the paw. Daring had been on the receiving end of those deadly razors only once before; an event she was keen on forgetting.

"Daring! Hey!" came Day Break's concerned voice once more, still not catching her attention. That print could have only meant one thing, and the weathermare seemed to grasp her fears once she saw the paw print. "What're you...oh my gosh...th-that's not..."

Daring Do threw her gaze in all directions, her mane tossing back and forth. Her tiny pupils traversed both ends of the trail, searching for any sign of movement. Her breath quickened to short bursts, her heart beating in her throat. She kept her head low, her mouth close to the knife strapped to her chest. The sounds of the forest disappeared, replaced by the eerie ringing in her head. She felt Day Break huddle close to her, unable to hide her evident fear.

"Day Break..." Daring whispered. "Don't...mo-"

"Daring look ou-"

But before she could even flinch from Day Break's sudden cry, Daring Do felt something quick and powerful collide into the back of her head. The world spun as she flew helplessly through the air for what felt like several minutes. The archaeologist cried out in pain as her right cheek hit the dirt, the rest of her body grinding against the jagged trail for a few yards. Disoriented, the pegasus slowly picked her head off the ground, a warm moisture flowing down her cheek. Before she could roll to her hooves, a powerful grip wrapped around her neck. Daring let out a choked yell as she was slammed against a tree, a clawed, paw-like hand only giving her throat enough room to breathe. The mare fought to keep her head, her chest heaving with panicked breaths. She opened her eyes, her eyebrows set at a fierce angle. However, her expression changed once her fears were confirmed.

Directly in front of her face was a long head with a pair of bright lime-colored eyes, leering directly into hers. The beast was larger than a manticore and cover in a dark purple and blue coat. His colors were heavily accented by a heavy, scaled gold necklace, falling over his broad shoulders. The arm that held the pegasus in place was enormous, bulging with rippling muscles. The monster parted his lips, displaying two rows of long, sharp teeth in a malevolent grin. It was the face that had haunted her dreams for years now, an expression that sent chills down her spine. The long ears on the back of his long head darted up as he uttered a throaty growl. The archaeologist dared to take a brief look to the left, finding Day Break's limp form against a tree, a trickle of blood rolling down her forehead. However, the mare couldn't find it in herself to be angered; only scared out of her mind.

"Daring Do..." Ahuitzotl purred maliciously. "...it's been a looonnng time."

Daring winced at the familiar, accented voice. She failed to hide her quivering form in his grip, her heartbeat rising with every second. “H-How…” she choked out. “How did you escape…?”

Ahuitzotl sneered, chuckling heartily. “Oh, anything is possible with a little help, my dear Miss Do.”

“So now what? Are you gonna kill me?” Daring asked, pleading for something to come out of the trees and free her from the monster’s clutches.

“Kill you? Well, that is very tempting,” the beast purred. “In fact, I haven’t quite decided yet. However, I know that I will make you pay for having the audacity to imprison the likes of me. Oh yes, you will be punished dearly. I will make you want death; need it even. You will beg for your life to end, Daring Do…but for now, you will sleep.”

Daring panicked as she saw her captor withdraw a small pouch as if from nowhere with his free hand. A long tail came into her blurry vision, another hand at its end. The tail untied the string, and the pouch fell open. But before she could see its contents, they were blown directly into her face by the monster. Her senses immediately started to die out, her lowering ears only hearing:

“Rest well, my prey…”

Six - The Bird and the Worm

The weight of two rifles was cumbersome, at first. But once the new dual scabbard was fitted to his body, Braeburn felt a little more comfortable. He imagined that if he hadn't been raised as a workhorse, then he wouldn't be able to carry the large amount of equipment. With two completely different weapons on his back now, he was forced to carry two different types of rounds. Aside from both tubular magazines being filled to capacity, he was given two boxes of ammunition to hold in his bag. Despite Gunmetal's protests, Braeburn filled the rear magazine with all ten Dragon's Breath rounds. He knew that they were dangerous, but nopony knew if and when he would need them.

The riflepony rolled his shoulders and neck in an attempt to comfort himself under the weight of his equipment, finding it rather difficult in the first few moments of donning it. Gunmetal Grey frowned at him, more so than usual. "Ya' sure it's a good idea ta' carry all that?"

"What else am Ah gonna do?" Braeburn smirked, adjusting to the new weight with a shift of his back. "Ah can't exactly leave Thumper behind."

"Yeah, Ah reckon yer gonna get yerself in a situation where both of 'em are needed," the gunsmith replied, walking over to the front door and opening it with a flash of his magic. Sunlight poured over the threshold, bright in comparison to the soft illumination of the lanterns. "So yer off ta' see yer Pa again? Ah can't think o' him not bein' a might cross over you leavin'."

"There's nothin' else Ah can do right now," the earth pony admitted. "Ah don't know where Sure Shot is, or even Daring. Pa and Silverstar might have a clue. It's a long shot, but it's my only option fer now. Ah'll tell ya' one thing, Ah ain't fond of the scoldin' Ah'm gonna get from Pa."

"Ah wouldn't be either," Gunmetal replied. "But go on now, ya' got things ta' do."

"Ya' sure ya' don't want me to pay fer all this?" Braeburn asked, raising a hoof toward the inner pocket of his duster, only to be shooed away by the unicorn.

"Ah imagine that you'll pay me back sometime in the future. Fer now, get on outta here," he said, waving Braeburn out the door. The riflepony complied with a silent smile as he was practically shoved out the door, which was locked behind him. He shook his head, wondering just why the gunsmith was so keen to make him leave all of a sudden. He could only guess that the unicorn wanted him to get on Sure Shot's trail as soon as possible.

Braeburn sighed, taking a look at his surroundings. The small main street was still bare, save for the few ponies that dared to walk outdoors. It was odd, considering that no danger was present anymore. Now alone with his thoughts, the earth pony was forced to face a decision: what move to make next. He considered going over the clues he had once more for a brief moment, only to realize that they still didn't help him in the least. All he knew was that Sure Shot was looking for Daring Do and her copy of Cunning's journal. He was thankful that the bandit leader knew not of his own copy, but also wished that he did. If Braeburn knew that they would be going after Daring for the diary, then he would have sooner given them his rather than put the pegasus in any danger. A small part of him wanted to panic over the very thought, but without knowing what was going on for sure, he didn't know how to feel.

He stood there in the middle of the empty street for what seemed like an hour, knowing that he only had one option at this point. With a huff, Braeburn turned to his left, galloping back toward the train station.

No light was found by the mare’s eyes, nor did any of her other senses seem to send a trace of information to her brain. Her consciousness was a question, not a determined fact. She tried to move her unresponsive limbs, but to no avail. She tried to make a sound, only to hear nothing but a dull ringing in the back of her mind. The mare felt nothing, she thought nothing. For all she knew, her life could have been taken away, replaced by an abyss of semi-consciousness. It took what felt like an eternity for her mind to fully comprehend her body’s condition, but when it did, Daring Do had regretted it.

Pain spiked within every nerve of her head in what would make a migraine seem like a mere dizzy spell. Once her muscles started responding again, the mare screwed her eyes shut in agony, feeling as if she were forced to live through somepony putting a bullet in the back of her head. Her sense of touch came soon after, revealing the cold, rough texture of a stone floor underneath her. Her shoulders ached as if she had climbed a mountain, finding her forelegs tied painfully behind her back. She weakly struggled against what felt like rope, but was as hard as steel. In her current state, however, a mere string might as well have been solid iron to her weakened muscles. She attempted to move her wings, only to find them pressed against her sides by another bond. For a moment or two, Daring fought for consciousness, feeling more and more nauseous by the second.

Her eyes opened, finding the area around her darker than the insides of her eyelids. Her right cheek was flat against the floor, the rest of her body face-down on the cold surface. The air was cool and dry, along with a dull scent of mold. She felt no physical energy to move, but her brain activity couldn’t have piqued quicker. Daring panicked within herself, remembering the events of an unknown amount of time ago. She immediately thought of Day Break, praying inwardly that she was okay. However, her rational mind concluded that Ahuitzotl would have taken or killed her for sure. At that thought, her panic quickly brought her the energy to move.

Daring Do grunted, attempting to find her hindlegs. They were working, although not without a heavy throbbing sensation. It was like a large boulder had been placed on her back, for the effort it took to make herself rise was enormous. The mare gasped with dry breaths as she forced herself upward into a sitting position, her hindlegs stretched out in front of her. Panting, she let her head fall forward, her body exhausted even from such little work. Once her eyes fell shut, Daring kick-started her objective mind to life with a wave of senseless determination. In the midst of darkness and uncertainty, the archaeologist still knew but one fact: she needed to escape. But first, she needed to figure out how.

But she had no more time to think as a faint sound echoed from the darkness ahead of her. Somewhere in the abyss not too far away from her, she heard stone grinding and metal clanking for a brief moment, before she was blinded by an azure flash. The mare clamped her burning eyes shut, quickly turning her head away from the new source of light. The sound of hoofsteps followed; slow and calm. She cast her senses outward, surprised not to hear or smell the beast that captured her. Her eyes flickered open, slowly adjusting to the light of many flaming torches lining the far stone walls around her. As her eyelids and ears rose, they were welcomed by a low, humming chuckle. The mare furrowed her brow in concentration, recoiling slightly at a stinging sensation from her right temple. It was a stallion, that much was certain. But that didn’t explain why a pony and not Ahuitzotl had entered the room. Daring Do forced another wave of panic aside, looking up to see who it was.

It took a moment, but as the mare recognized the other pony, her brow twitched with confusion. He had a coat of dark purple, a jet-black mane and tail and the blue eyes that had been somehow etched into her memory. On the earth stallion’s back hung a sheathed rifle, strapped around a black vest. It had been around a year and a half since she had seen him, but there was no mistaking the riflepony.

“S-Sure Shot,” Daring managed in disbelief, her throat dry. “H-How…”

“I thought you’d be surprised,” the stallion smirked. “Glad to see I was correct.”

Daring grunted as another wave of pain washed over her skull, her racing thoughts splitting her skull. “Wh-What is this? What are you doing here?”

She expected a smirk, something to show his dominance in the situation. However, Sure Shot tilted his head with a quirk of his brow in what seemed like genuine confusion. “Oh? You don’t know? I would’ve expected somepony of your wit to break it down by now. I must say, I’m disappointed.”

“Stop playing,” Daring grunted, wading through the crashing waves of pain in her head. “Tell me what you’re doing out here and not behind bars.”

Sure Shot frowned, a small sigh escaping his lips. He cast a slow glance around the room, pausing to stare at the high ceiling at the edge of the lanterns’ illumination. “A bit ironic, isn’t it? For you to be imprisoned in your old enemy’s cell, while I on the other hoof, am standing before you; a free stallion…”

“Answer the question!” Daring almost yelled, her fury rising in her words. She went to continue her demand, but was cut off as the purple stallion lurched forward. Before she knew it, Daring’s head was pushed back to the stone by a forceful hoof, her fixed gaze away from Sure Shot. The mare grunted as her skull screamed in agony, barely able to feel the cold breath of the stallion against her lowered ear.

“…and as a prisoner, you are in no place to make demands,” Sure Shot whispered, applying consistent pressure to her temple.

The rational portion of her mind begged Daring to be quiet and obey without question, but the majority of her thoughts were focused on defiance. “What does Ahuitzotl have to offer you? What is the reason for this?”

The bandit laughed aloud, softly and mischievously into her ear. “It’s not what he has to offer me, but what I have to offer him.”

Without warning, Sure Shot retracted his hoof before walking a few paces away, his back to her. Daring coughed as she rose to her haunches again, a metallic taste in her mouth. It was with a divine degree of will that she quelled another bout of panic at his confirmation. If there was another more crippling fear in the back of her mind, she had not come to realize it yet. The two beings that frightened her the most, working together. It was a thought that couldn’t be true, an idea too horrifying to exist in the real world. But there she was; captured by a beast that wanted nothing more than her blood on his claws, and an infamous riflepony that led the most feared gang in the West.

There had to be a reason; a goal for Sure Shot to make such a journey all the way from Equestria just to torture her like this. Even though it didn’t matter anymore, she couldn’t help but wonder how the riflepony escaped his cell, much less travel outside of the country and free Ahuitzotl from his enchanted prison. This couldn’t have been a spur of the moment idea; this was something that was planned, something that Sure Shot intended to carry out to the end.

“Judging by your silence, I’d say that you’re starting to put the pieces together,” the earth pony sneered, turning back around to face Daring. He regarded her expression with a sense of calculation, evidently trying to extrapolate something. “But it seems like you’re still missing a few details. Either that, or you have a brilliant poker face.”

“What are you talking about-”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Sure Shot interrupted, his jeering voice suddenly dropping a few octaves into something much more serious. Daring grit her teeth behind her lips as he approached her, his head lowering down to her level. “The journal, Daring Do. What else could you have that I would be interested in?”

The pegasus fought her reflexes and pushed aside the twitch in her eye. Instead she glared right into his piercing blue eyes, her brow furrowed with determination to keep the secrets safe. “What good could an old museum piece do you?”

Immediately following her question, the stallion thrust his face into hers, barely an inch away. Daring exhaled through her nose, fighting every urge to recoil or show any sign of weakness. However, her shields didn’t see to matter to the piercing gaze of her captor. “Then why is it not in the museum anymore? Why is your copy no longer taking occupancy in your home? If it were just a mere artifact, it would be displayed like the rest of your alleged findings, Daring Do! I know for a fact that you had them hidden for a reason! You found something in those pages that nopony else could see, that nopony else would even think to find!”

“What makes you think there’s something to find?” Daring growled, determined to hide as much as she could. “What makes you think I would even find any sort of secret if there was one to be found?”

“Because you found the diary in the first place,” Sure Shot growled in return, slowing raising his head away from hers. “Because you knew that Cunning the Colt existed, despite the fact that he was known as a myth, and nothing more. Now if I made such a prolific discovery, I would be very curious about the secrets a secret would hide. And before you ask, yes, I know a fair amount about you. Your track record is astounding, to say the least, meaning that there is no way in Equestria for you to have slipped-up on what I can only assume to be an incredibly nagging curiosity! Now enough with your lies, and tell me where you hid the diary!”

Daring Do kept her expression defiant, but on the inside, she was helplessly beaten. Somehow, this bandit found out about what she had hidden for over a year now. How he did, she simply couldn’t answer. This wasn’t just some observant journalist looking for an interesting headline; this was a stallion that had brought to light something she hadn’t. While she had sworn to herself to keep Cunning’s secrets a mystery, she couldn’t think of a way to further deny their existence. Sure Shot simply had enough information to corner her, and there wasn’t another thing she could do to delay the inevitable. But on the other hoof, there wasn’t a way in the world that she could allow him access to such dangerous information.

The pegasus swished her monochromatic tail from one side to the other, gathering all of her courage. She looked back up to the purple earth pony, her expression relaxed. She knew she was in for a lot more pain, or maybe even death, but she couldn’t risk such a power in the hooves of this stallion. “That’s too bad, because there’s nothing you can do to get that information.”

At her sneering gaze, Sure Shot snorted in response. He turned on a hoof, slowly walking away from the mare. As he approached the large stone doors on the other side of the cathedral-sized room, he called back one last thing to her, his voice echoing off the walls: “That’s unfortunate. I was hoping to keep such a brilliant mind sane.”

Daring Do winced inwardly at that. She watched as two towering stone doors creaked open, allowing a narrow line of light to show through, as well as something bluish-green. The mare squinted her eyes in an attempt to focus on the blur. The opening in the doors was slim, but she could still make out a single, somber yellow eye looking at her from under teal bangs. She furrowed her brow as the doors closed again, only a second before the torches illuminating the enormous room extinguished themselves. Just as quickly as it disappeared before, the darkness washed over the pegasus, leaving her cold and alone. Or so she thought.

Three things happened in a fraction of a second. A foul stench grazed Daring's nose, followed by a low, devious purr. The mare didn't even have time to think about gasping before a force comparable to a wrecking ball threw her through the darkness. The jagged stone floor ripped at her exposed coat as she tumbled through the abyss, the wind taken from her lungs. Daring wheezed, gasping for air before she was hit by another swipe from the back of a large paw. Without vision, it was difficult to determine her trajectory. But Daring felt like a mouse being swatting across a room by a hungry house cat. As she made impact with a wall, the mare cried out in agony before crashing to the floor. She hit the stone in a broken heap, gasping in an attempt to fill her emptied lungs. A dull ringing occupied her ears, the rest of her senses alight with pain. Her head spun, forcing her throat to convulse with dry heaves. Nausea overtook the mare, and she wished she had something for her stomach to reject, anything to make the feeling go away.

"Oh, how I've waited for this day," came a jubilant, accented voice. "Year after year, the want became a need; to make you suffer for your deeds."

Daring felt herself being lifted up by her right hindleg, her hoof wrapped in the tight grip of Ahuitzotl's paw. She hadn't the strength nor the breath to free herself, and merely hung limply upside-down. The beast's breath was hot against her contorted face, his grin almost audible. "You have been an enormous problem for such a small worm..."

Daring felt herself being flipped around with what she assumed was a flick of his wrist. Before she fell to the floor, his paw shoved her broken form into the wall once again. The pegasus felt her wings crumple underneath their bonds, her shoulders screaming in pain, forced too far in the wrong direction. She couldn't speak, she couldn't think. All she could do was try and breathe, anything to keep herself alive. "...but now, the bird you have evaded for so long finally has your pathetic little head in its talons, and there is no soil for you to escape in."

"Th-This isn't...just about me..." the mare panted, hot blood dripping from her lips. "Sure Shot...what is he giving you for th-this? What is his p-plan?"

"I am not the one who should be talking," Ahuitzotl sneered. "I am the one who is going to make you talk. Tell us where the diary is, and this will be much easier for you."

"Easier?" Daring repeated, her eyebrows arched in a furious angle. She may not have been able to see him, but she knew that Ahuitzotl's feline eyes could see every inch of her face. "By 'easier' do you mean death?"

"You'll find out," the beast cackled, his grip tightening around her torso. "But I can tell you that it will be easier than this!"

The world spun again, and the pegasus felt herself impact with the floor on her back. She arched her back upward, screaming as her spine cracked in several places. Her cry instilled a deafening laugh from Ahuitzotl, who wrapped his claws around her right hindleg once again. She expected to be thrown bodily across the room again, but found the beast hesitating. She shook with creeping dread, panting quickly and heavily. Even if she wasn't tied by steel cables, her ability to move had been taken away by the fall. Her spine felt broken, preventing any ideas of escape. She could only lay there, quivering like the worm she was described as.

"Now talk," he said, his grip cutting off the circulation in her leg. Daring cried out once again, every nerve in her body screaming at her to sing like a canary. However, their pleads slammed themselves into the mental wall that was her tenacity.

"Do what you will, you giant blue fur ball," she hissed through her teeth. "I. Will. Not. Tal-"

But her final word was cut off by a loud, echoing snap. Her lungs burned as she screamed, her leg alight with pure, mind-splitting agony. Her cry was long and high-pitched, her voice cracking before dwindling into nothing more than a pathetic whimper. Ahuitzotl snickered, his touch gone from her broken leg. He only continued his chuckling as he departed the room, barely noticed by the semi-conscious mare. She laid on her side, cringing with every haggard breath. However, her thoughts weren't focused on herself, but the friend she had let down; the friend whose life she had wasted.

Daring Do felt hot tears of pain trickle down her face, feeling lower than she ever had in her entire life.

Seven - A New Task at Hoof

Sleep had always been something that the farmer always either struggled with, or simply welcomed like a warm apple pie in the middle of a snowstorm. Some nights were easy, usually after a hard day’s work accompanied by a fatigued body and mind. But when his brain was filled with uncertainty, anxiety and even fear, Braeburn found rest to be a lost virtue. The background noises of the train and the moving environment didn’t help either, preventing even a wink of sleep.

Braeburn sat alone that night, unfocused but tireless in yet another uncomfortable booth. He was tired of doing nothing after waiting hours for a train to depart to Appleloosa. He sat on his haunches, scooted up against the back of his seat, looking down at the weapons before him. In the small space that he didn’t occupy, both of his rifles were laid out in front of him. They both pointed toward the window as a safety precaution, more to quell the worries of the few passengers nowhere near his seat. None of them cast the earth pony a single glance, something he was thankful for after the previous night. He hadn’t the patience for others asking questions or thanking him at the moment, for he needed peace and quiet to mull over his racing thoughts.

His gaze had been set on the reflective brass receiver of his new rifle, mindlessly tracing the lines of the engraving with his eyes. It was odd owning a weapon with no name after wielding Thumper for so long. He played with the idea of giving it one, more to distract himself than anything. But what would he call it? Did he name it something to reflect its unique look and beauty, or simply reference the allegedly dangerous secondary ammunition that it fired? It wasn’t made from any well-known manufacturer like Marechester or even Auberti, so he couldn’t even call it that. He wondered just what the Dragon’s Breath rounds did, as well as what they were capable of. But with the risk and his extremely limited supply of them, he didn’t dare waste one over mere curiosity. Due to the name, he imagined fire; a large tongue of flame similar to what a real dragon could produce. But without ever witnessing a fully grown dragon display his firepower, Braeburn had nothing detailed to visualize.

The stallion entertained his mental procrastination for a few moments before he returned to a place that he was all too familiar with. His thoughts returned to Daring Do, but this time the theme wasn’t of depression, but of worry. If it was true that Sure Shot was tracking her down, then would she be able to evade them? If she was caught, would she be killed? He may not have known what her situation was for sure, but that didn’t stop his heart from beating in the pit of his stomach. He had noticed that happening more recently as well; his soul panging every time he had the audacity to think of her. Like everything else these days, he wasn’t entirely certain, but Braeburn was starting to think that Autumn Breeze was indeed on to something. Perhaps her question wasn’t so farfetched, for she did seem to know what she was talking about. Not only that, but she suggested a word that Braeburn found to truly define his emotions. He couldn’t imagine worrying about somepony else this much, not without the warmth that Daring’s mere existence brought him.

Hours trekked by as slowly as possible; at least that was what it felt like. Eventually the exhausted stallion watched the moon disappear, replaced by the vista of the rising sun. Finally he arrived in his town, which was quiet to say the least. No other ponies joined him to step onto the platform, nor did anypony depart it either. With every step his eyes fluttered, attempting to close. But even when they did, Braeburn couldn’t sleep. His tireless mind prevented such privileges as always, forcing him to walk on down the small town’s main street. Nopony was awake at this early hour, even though the sun had finally cleared the horizon. He imagined that his father had been awake for at least an hour now, and that he would be scolded immediately.

Braeburn lost track of the time it took to reach the apple orchards on the edge of the settlement, but knew from experience that at least ten minutes must have passed by. He walked up the pathway through the modest wooden arches, spotting one of Bullet Tyme’s workers in the fields to the East. He didn’t take the time to exchange pleasantries, and was thankful that the farmer hadn’t noticed him either. Instead, Braeburn pressed on to the front porch, noticing the lights shining through the curtained windows. Just as he expected, his father was never one to disappoint.

The earth pony went raise a hoof to knock on the door, but was interrupted as it was opened for him. On the other side of the threshold, Bullet Tyme stood without his usual vest and hat. His long mane was even free of its usual tie, draped over his shoulder. His expression looked torn between a scowl and relief, more than Braeburn had expected. But what surprised him the most were the other two ponies in the living room behind his father.

Braeburn’s eyelids flew open at the sight of two mares standing with parted lips, staring at him with looks of worry. The one on the left was a violet unicorn, her straight mane and tail a deep purple with a thin line of bright pink separating the strands. On the right was an orange earth pony, who Braeburn immediately recognized as his younger cousin. Her blonde mane looked frayed in several areas, her usually wafting bangs disheveled. The unicorn looked to be in similar condition, though not as much as the orange mare.

“There ya’ are,” Bullet Tyme grunted, pulling his son into the home by his duster. Braeburn reflexively shook him off, growing weary of ponies handling him in such a manner. “Where in the hay have ya’ been?”

“Yeah cuz, ya’ had us darned near sick with worry!” Applejack joined in, her voice with more obvious concern than Bullet’s. Her friend, however, remained silent as she seemed to find the floorboards particularly interesting.

Braeburn placed a hoof to his temple, closing his eyes as he felt a headache approaching. “Now just hold on a second. Ah had a rough night and-”

“You had a rough night?” Bullet interjected, appalled. “How ‘bout ya’ think o’ yer family fer a second? Ah told ya’ not to leave Appleloosa ‘till we figured out more ‘bout what’s goin’ on! Fer all we knew, ya’ could’a been dead on the side of a road!”

“Well Ah’m not, alright?” Braeburn retorted, opening his eyes to glare at the stallion before him. “Ah knew there wasn’t a thing we could figure out ‘round these parts, and Gunmetal sent me a letter ‘bout this here rifle. And guess what, Pa? Ah found out-”

“Don’t you take that tone with me, boy.”

“Will you listen fer one cotton-pickin’ moment?!” Braeburn almost yelled, his annoyance climbing. “Ah found out what Sure Shot is after!”

Bullet Tyme recoiled, and there was a still silence in the living room for a moment. Braeburn took the opportunity to cast a quick glance over to the two mares on the right, finding both wearing similar looks of shock.

“S-Sure Shot?” Applejack stuttered, taking off her notched Stetson as if it would help her take the information in. “Are ya’ll sayin’ that he’s outta jail again?”

“Isn’t that the pony you put away last year, Braeburn? Is he what caused all of this mess?” asked Twilight quietly, her curiosity evidently outweighing her awkward silence. The riflepony exhaled through his nose, only answering the question with a furrow of his brow.

“AJ, what’re you and yer friend doin’ here? These ain’t exactly good times to be visiting,” he asked, attempting to calm himself down. But it seemed that his father was still cross with him.

“AJ’s here ‘cause she was worried ‘bout ya’,” Bullet said. “She sent a letter askin’ how we were doin’, and after Ah replied with the news, she and Miss Twilight here got on the first train to Appleloosa.”

“I didn’t want Applejack to go alone,” Twilight chimed in, still looking guilty as if she had done something wrong. “Not after hearing what was going on around here.”

“They were up all night worryin’ about ya’,” Bullet grunted, much to his son’s dismay.

“Well Ah’m here now, alright?” Braeburn snapped, looking back to his father. His increase in volume instilled a slight recoil from Twilight and Applejack, which he immediately felt guilty for. Bullet Tyme didn’t reply with anything, but seemed to be holding in his anger. The beige earth pony sighed through his nostrils, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “Look, Ah’m sorry. But me leavin’ fer Dodge ended up bein’ a good idea.”

He then went on to explain the events of the previous day and nights, not skipping a beat even to avoid their looks of shock and worry. When he was done, Braeburn walked around his father and took a well-deserved seat on the couch. The other stallion followed suit as his son stripped himself of his equipment, duster and hat, laying them all out on the table between them. Twilight and Applejack, on the other hoof, merely stood to the right of the table, keeping an eye on the exhausted stallion. Braeburn rubbed his eyes with his hooves, sitting upright on his haunches. His body needed rest, but his mind was having difficulty even contemplating the word.

Bullet Tyme took up the new rifle and inspected it, an impressed look on his face. “Cunning’s journal, huh? Ah guess there was more to our ancestor than we thought.”

“What d’ya think it could be? Another treasure?” asked Applejack.

“I don’t know, but it seems important if that bandit escaped from prison to find it,” Twilight joined in, evidently very interested in the subject.

“It could be treasure or even some sorta’ artifact or somethin’,” Braeburn replied. “But if Sure Shot wants whatever it is, we can’t let him get a hold of it.”

Twilight moved closer to Braeburn, coming into his vision. “Weren’t there copies made of the diary?”

“Yeah, fer Daring and Ah,” he answered. “And Ah have no clue where she or her copy is. Ah’m thinkin’ they’re goin’ after hers, or the one in Canterlot.”

“But the original was taken out of its place in the museum. It was locked up and everything,” said the unicorn. Braeburn’s eyes widened at that, his head whipping around to gape at the violet mare.

“Was that public information?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you go there and find out fer yerself or was it in the newspaper?” Braeburn demanded, perhaps a little louder than he meant to.

Twilight looked uneasy, taken aback from his volume. “Oh, yes. There was an article about it a while back, maybe a few months or so.”

Applejack’s pupils shrunk, rivaling Braeburn’s as she seemed to grasp the nature of such a fact. “Th-Then that means that Sure Shot knows about it!”

“And without access to the original, Sure Shot would have no choice but to find Daring’s,” Bullet concluded gravely.

Twilight gasped, placing a hoof to her mouth. Braeburn fell back into his seat on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling with wide eyes. Then it was true: Daring Do was in danger, and nopony in Equestria knew of her whereabouts. If he wasn’t awake before, he certainly was now. The stallion felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach, quickening in pace as dread overtook him. His body screamed at him to suit up and find her before it was too late, but without a clue of where she was, he was useless. Braeburn groaned aloud, sitting back up and placing his face in his hooves.

“Can’t we get a hold of the Guard and have them deal with this?” asked Applejack before turning to her friend. “Can’t ya’ tell Celestia ‘bout this?”

“Well yes, I could try. But if we don’t know where Sure Shot or Daring Do are, even the Princess won’t be able to do anything about it,” Twilight replied hopelessly.

“We can still get the word out!” Braeburn said, desperation in his voice. “Maybe they were spotted somewhere. We can’t just sit around and not tell nopony!”

Twilight nodded, although halfheartedly. “You’re both right. Bullet Tyme, do you-”

“Parchment’s in the den. Down the hall and to the right,” he replied, receiving another nod before the unicorn darted out of the room.

As the conversation died, Braeburn allowed himself to breathe as he sat up straight once more, his gaze fixated on the cluttered table before him. Applejack took the opportunity to sit next to her cousin, placing a brief but reassuring hoof on his shoulder. He glanced at her to find a small smile, despite the deep concern in her emerald eyes. “She’ll be alright, cousin. Celestia wouldn’t let one of her subjects down.”

“But what if the Guard doesn’t find them in time?” Braeburn replied quietly. “What if Sure Shot finds her first? Daring would know if there was somethin’ hidden in Cunning’s journal, and would never respond to threats. What if they killed her, Applejack?”

“Ya’ can’t let yerself fret now, boy,” came Bullet’s voice, much more understanding than before. “Fer now, all we can do is hope fer the best.”

“But Ah can’t help but worry,” the riflepony whispered.

Before anypony could respond, there was a flash of purple light from the hallway, accompanied by the tell-tale sparkling of magic.. Twilight trotted back into the living room shortly after, receiving expectant looks from the three earth ponies.

“Alright, I wrote the Princess a letter explaining the situation. Celestia is usually very quick to reply, so we should expect one in-”

Her words were cut off by a quick burst of white light, followed by a tied scroll landing on the floor in front of the unicorn. She pursed her lips with a somewhat unsurprised look on her face, floating the letter in front of her face as it was untied. “How in Equestria does she do that?”

“What does it say?” Applejack perked up, contrary to Braeburn’s pessimism.

Twilight cleared her throat as all eyes fell on her. She read the letter aloud, quickly and calmly:

“To my faithful student, Twilight Sparkle: I have indeed been made aware of the bandit named Sure Shot and his escape. The Royal Guard has been told as well, and have been instructed to arrest him on sight. As for his current whereabouts, he seems to be well hidden, for he’s been wanted throughout Equestria since the day of his escape, and yet still he seems to have evaded us.”

Twilight cocked her head back, quirking an eyebrow. “That’s odd. Something like that is usually on a need to know basis.”

“To the public, not to her personal student,” said Bullet Tyme, gesturing for her to read on.

The unicorn complied: “To answer your question of Daring Do's whereabouts, I apologize, but I am unaware. Ever since her finding of Cunning the Colt's tomb, I haven't heard anything more. Truth be told, it doesn’t seem that we know any more of the situation than you do. However, I can assure you that I have some of my best ponies on the case, and that we shall find this bandit and his followers so that they may meet justice.”

Braeburn failed to suppress a quiet scoff from escaping his lips. Applejack responded with a hushing punch to the shoulder, which he ignored. Twilight continued once more:

“I would advise you and your friends to be extremely careful for the time being. Considering that we know not of Sure Shot’s location, it would be unwise to stay outdoors after dark. Keep your wits about you Twilight Sparkle. I will send word with more information the minute we obtain it. Sincerely, Princess Celestia.”

“Well, at least the Princess is tryin’!” Applejack perked up in an attempt to lighten the mood. Twilight seemed to be on the same page, or at least the same chapter. She wore a halfhearted smile, her eyes switching between Braeburn and Bullet Tyme.

“Yeah, at least there’s that,” the riflepony sighed, his gaze unfocused. The same went for his thoughts, for they didn’t seem to have any one point of focus other than the general thought of Daring Do. “So what now?”

Twilight looked as if she wanted to answer, but was cut off as Bullet Tyme bolted upright in his recliner, causing the rest of them to flinch at the sudden movement. The stallion’s brow was lowered and his ears were lifted straight up, twitching as if to pick up some sort of low frequency. “Hear that?”

“Hear what?” Applejack asked, pricking her own ears up as well. “Frankly Uncle B, Ah’m surprise you can hear anything after decades o’ shootin’.”

Bullet shushed her quietly as he climbed to the floor, walking toward the front door to Braeburn’s right. “Sounds like propellers.”

“Propellers?” Applejack repeated uncertainly. “Like on a boat?”

“Why would a boat be out here in the desert, AJ?” Braeburn scoffed.

“Ah’m not sayin’ there’s a boat out there-”

“Then why’d ya’ say it?”

“Will you two shut yer pie holes?” Bullet Tyme hissed from the door. Braeburn rolled his eyes, distracting himself with a look out the window behind the couch. His irritation immediately disappeared at what he assumed to be the source of the sound his father was hearing.

In the distance over the buildings of Appleloosa was a large ovular balloon, with a long wooden craft on its underside. It had short wings on either side of the body, with what looked like turbines spinning two large propellers. The balloon was a dull shade of green, with a single stripe of off-white down the side. Overlapping the color scheme was a picture of a golden compass rose situated toward the rear of the balloon. The craft was in the middle of a turn, its assumed front end pointing directly toward the farm. As Braeburn stared out the window, the other three ponies joined him to gape at the sight.

The beige stallion started to hear what his father was talking about; the quick and heavy fwump fwump fwump of the airship’s propellers. His eyes were drawn to the golden design on the balloon. It was familiar, something he had seen before. It took a moment, but Braeburn finally remembered just where he knew the symbol from.

“Th-That’s Daring’s cutie mark!” he stammered, pointing at the compass rose.

“She has an airship?” Twilight almost gasped. “And here I thought my hot air balloon was nice.”

But Braeburn was no longer in the mood for pandering. His heart rose to life, beating hard against his chest. He sprung away from the window and off the couch, throwing the brass rifle over his back and leaving Thumper behind as he darted for the door. In his excitement, Braeburn ignored the calls from his father and his cousin, opening the door and bolting through it. He sped down the dirt path and through the wooden arch at a steady gallop, his eyes fixed on the airship ahead. It was still far above the town, but was descending at an alarming rate toward the orchards. Pushing aside his elation, the stallion came to a halt directly in front of the farm’s borders. He could hear Twilight, Applejack and his father approaching him from behind, but he didn’t care.

All that was on Braeburn’s mind was the aircraft, and the mare that had to be inside of it. Finally, after a year and a half, he would see her again. He could hold her; tell her everything that he felt about her, regardless of how she felt in return. He had his hopes, but the stallion only wished to see her bright rose eyes light up at the sight of him again. Braeburn kept his eyes on the windows of the cockpit, attempting to make out the pilot with a grin he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“Hold on now, boy,” came his father’s gruff voice as the other three caught up to him. “Ya’ don’t know if that’s her or not.”

“Well that’s definitely her cutie mark on the balloon,” said Twilight, catching her breath from the run.

“Ya’ sure ‘bout that?” asked Applejack skeptically. “Ah don’t really remember what it looked like to be honest with ya’.”

Twilight prodded her temple with a hoof, wearing a smug grin. “Photographic memory. It never fails.”

“Either way, Ah don’t think Ah’ve ever seen ya’ so excited in my life, cousin,” said the orange mare with a chuckle. Braeburn didn’t answer for lack of coherent thought. All he knew was that he was finally about to see the mare he couldn’t stop thinking about.

The airship was closing in, reaching a point just above them as Braeburn spotted something bolting out from behind the wooden cabin. His eyes deceived him momentarily, making him think that the object was a dark yellow and gray. But after a few blinks, he noticed that it was in fact a pegasus, although not the one he was hoping to see. Even from the distance, he could see the mare’s bright yellow coat, complimented by a mane and tail of two shades of red. Twilight and Applejack made noises of confusion behind Braeburn, who noticed the pegasus turn around to make a bee-line for them. As the airship began its landing process in the fields just to the North, the mare gained an enormous amount of speed, hurtling down toward the ground at a shallow angle.

Before either Braeburn or his father could draw their weapons out of uncertainty, the pegasus hit the ground ten yards in front of them. Her momentum put her into a long skid, her hooves digging into the dirt as she quickly slid toward Braeburn. He made no motion to draw his rifle, for it didn’t seem like this mare came to pick any sort of fight. Once her momentum was depleted, the yellow pony trotted up to the four of them, her large ruby eyes looking Braeburn over with evident haste.

“Are you Braeburn Apple?” she asked, her voice quick and laced with desperation. Her eyes looked bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking either, as if something terrible had happened. As quick as it came, Braeburn’s excitement died away, replaced by a creeping dread. His smile disappeared as he looked back over to the landing airship, and then back to her.

“Y-Yes. Yes Ah am,” he replied, his voice shaken. “Do Ah know you, Ma’am?”

The mare let out a quick sigh of relief before rearing up to place both her forehooves on Braeburn’s shoulders. “Thank Celestia I found you! Braeburn listen to me, I need you to come with me right now!”

“Ah’m a might sorry Miss, but Ah don’t-”

“Braeburn, it’s Daring! She’s in trouble and she needs your help!”

There was a gasp behind the beige stallion, followed by a murmur of shocked confusion. Braeburn only stared at the mare, his heart slowing down to a dangerously slow pace. He searched her eyes, looking desperately for any sign or tell of a lie. But when he found none, Braeburn inhaled a shaking breath as every last one of his fears were confirmed. The pegasus let herself fall from his shoulders, although not backing up one step. She looked up to him with large eyes, waiting for him to say something.

“Wh-What? What happened?!” he demanded. “Where is she?!”

“I’ll explain everything on the way there. But for now I need you to get on that airship so we can get to her,” the mare said, her words quick and faltering as if she had been crying.

Bullet Tyme walked over to Braeburn’s left side, looking down on her with a suspicious look on his face. “Who are ya’? How do we know yer not lyin’ to us?”

The mare cocked her head back, appalled. “We don’t have time for this, sir!” she said, turning back to Braeburn. “Braeburn, please! I need you to help us right now! Daring might not have much time left, and if we don’t leave right this second she could be killed!”

Braeburn’s eyes shot even further open as his entire body seemed to freeze on the spot. He was dreaming, he had to be dreaming. He may have only hesitated for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for the impatient pegasus in front of him.

“Braeburn, it’s Ahuitzotl alright?!” she screamed, her desperation starting to turn into anger. Another gasp was heard behind him, but this time Braeburn didn’t hesitate. The riflepony dug a hindhoof into the ground, turning around to dart back toward the barn home. “What are you doing?! Where are you going?!”

The beige stallion turned his head back to holler over his shoulder: “Keep the ship runnin’!”

Braeburn focused on nothing but what the pegasus had said, as well as leaving as quickly as possible. Daring had once mentioned Ahuitzotl; a monster that was much more dangerous than how he was perceived in the books. But she had said that the beast was locked away, kept away from the world, so just what happened? He knew that he would be told in a few minutes, but the stallion wanted answers now. He wanted to know if they had enough time to save her; he wanted to know if she was even alive.

Braeburn leaped over the front porch and through the door, skidding to a halt next to the table cluttered with his equipment. But before he could start to dress himself, a glow of violet light erupted from his clothes and his weapons. He forgot about Twilight’s magic, thanking her with a nod as she came into her vision. The riflepony reared up, balancing on his hindlegs with his forelegs spread wide. The unicorn floated his duster over first, followed by his dual scabbard and hat. The three items fitted themselves around the stallion, the coat draping over his tail in his bipedal position.

“Are you sure about this?” Twilight asked. However, it was more of a confirmation than a question, the level of her seriousness defined by the look on her face. Braeburn stared her straight in the eyes, his expression stern. “This could be dangerous. We don’t know what the real Ahuitzotl is capable of.”

“It doesn’t matter what he can do,” said Braeburn flatly. “If he has Daring, then Ah’m not waitin’ ‘round fer the Guard to find him.”

“I imagine you’re going to tell Applejack and I to go back home and wait for this all to end,” she replied, receiving another nod in return.

“Ah’m not involvin’ anypony that Ah don’t have to.”

“But we can help!” Twilight tried, although to no avail. “We can gather the Elements of Harmony and-”

“If what that pegasus out there says is true, then we don’t have time fer that,” said Braeburn, falling back to his hooves as Twilight finished by sheathing both rifles on his back, along with his bag of previously-packed supplies. “Ah’m sorry Twi’, Ah know ya’ll wanna help but Ah can’t let anypony else get hurt ‘cause o’ this.”

At the end of Braeburn’s sentence, Bullet Tyme reentered the house, walking straight across to the hallway behind Twilight. “Well that’s all well and good Braeburn, but there ain’t a thing you can do to stop a father from bein’ there fer his son. Ah’m goin’ with ya’.”

Braeburn went to open his mouth to reply before his father exited the living room, only to find himself biting on his lower lip in hesitation. To his annoyance, he realized that the older stallion was right; he couldn’t keep Bullet Tyme from worrying, much less stop him from accompanying him. As Braeburn grunted, Twilight took a single step forward, her previously-awkward demeanor switching to something more confident and determined. She furrowed her brow, tilting her head up to look at him.

“I understand that you don’t want us to risk our lives like you’re doing, Braeburn, but me, Applejack and the other bearers of the Elements are grown mares. We can take care of ourselves; we’ve done it before.”

The earth pony pursed his lips, tapping a forehoof on the wooden floor. In his impatience, he couldn’t justify having this argument right now. He needed to get on that airship and leave as quickly as possible. “Look, Ah’m not gonna tell ya’ what to do or not to do, but it’s just too soon to know if we’ll need the Elements. This isn’t just Ahuitzotl; this is also Sure Shot and his gang too. When we find out more, Ah’ll do what Ah can to let ya’ll know, alright?”

Twilight didn’t seem completely satisfied, but dropped the matter regardless. “Alright. Applejack’s outside with that mare. I’ll make sure to tell her not to try and go with you. I know she’ll try.”

And with that, the unicorn disappeared in a spherical flash of purple light, reappearing outside next to Applejack down the path. A beat later Bullet Tyme returned into the living room from the hall, a new rifle strapped to his back along with a saddlebag of his own. “Ah’m not gonna hear no argument from you, am Ah?”

“Like ya’ said, Ah can’t stop ya’,” said Braeburn, gesturing to the door with his head. He led his father out the front door and down the path after Bullet Tyme locked the barn home. They galloped down to the air ship, finding the three mares waiting impatiently for them to approach. The propellers of the large craft were keeping the balloon a few hooves from the ground, the rear of the cabin opened to allow a ramp to touch the ground. Artemis was nowhere to be found, and was assumed to be in the cockpit. Applejack gave the two stallions a look of irritation, to which Braeburn replied with a solemn expression. He withdrew his keys from his pocket with his teeth, tossing them to Applejack, whom caught them around her hoof.

"My copy of the diary needs to disappear, alright?" he asked, his tone indicating the importance of the request. Applejack nodded along with Twilight.

“You two better come back in one piece, ya’ hear?” she said in a demanding tone, rearing up to wrap them both in a brief but loving hug.

“O’ course we will,” Bullet grunted as they were released. “And you better keep yerself safe.”

“You too,” said Twilight and Applejack quietly.

With a simultaneous nod, Braeburn and Bullet Tyme followed the silent yellow pegasus up the ramp of the craft, waving what very well could have been their final goodbyes.

She was left alone in the dark, bleeding on the cold stone floor. It could have been five minutes or even an hour, it was all the same to her. She laid on her front, her bleeding cheek to the floor with her eyes closed. The pain in her head had dulled, but the rest of her body seemed to be picking up the slack in that department. Daring was immobile, her spine flaring with every minor movement or wince. She couldn’t feel her hindhoof anymore, but the fractured joint was enough to make a young filly bawl her eyes out relentlessly. The lack of light prevented her from looking at it, which was the only thing she could be thankful for. She tried every mental trick in the book to block out the pain, but with absolutely zero success.

Daring breathed slowly, valuing every inhale as if it were her last. But she wasn’t fearful for herself, but for yet another friend she had endangered. For all she knew, Day Break was facing a similar fate somewhere nearby, a thought she couldn’t bear. The last time Daring saw the yellow mare, she was unconscious on the side of the trail. But for how long was she asleep? Was she able to make a run for it, or was she dead by now? The monochromatic mare choked on her own breath, clinging on to a pinprick of hope for her fillyhood friend. Daring Do had let her down, in the worst way imaginable. She just wanted to wake up in the airship and realize that it was all a terrible dream. But by now, there was no mistaking it: this was real, and the archaeologist had no foreseeable means of escape. Even if she wasn’t bound by the steel cables, there was no hope of movement in her crippled state.

The insides of her eyelids lit up as the sound of the lanterns igniting filled the silence of the large room, followed by a long grinding noise. Daring allowed her eyes to flicker open halfway, panting in agony as she turned her head to spot the visitor. She had expected Sure Shot to enter, but found a blue unicorn instead. It took a few moments for her to make out the details, but eventually the blur was close enough for her to see. The unicorn was male, with a short, unkempt mane and tail of a bright teal. He was short and had a thin frame, but looked to be almost Daring’s age. On his back was a single saddlebag, obscuring his cutie mark. He looked down to her with solemn yellow eyes as he approached, but still instilled a look of hate from Daring Do.

“Whatcha’ got there? More things to torture me with?” she grunted, her voice haggard and low.

“Not quite,” the unicorn replied, his tones as somber as his expression. “That’s not my role here.”

Daring arched her eyebrows, wincing as confusion washed over her dreary mind. “Then what are you here for?”

The unicorn looked to his right, floating the bags off himself and placing them on the floor. With another azure spark, he opened the magic and began laying out an array of medical supplies. “To heal you.”

“Wh-What?” Daring stammered, her voice cracking slightly. “Are you here to break me out or something?”

The stallion frowned, looking down to the supplies he had finished unpacking. “No. To quote my boss, ‘I am to prepare you for your next round.’ I assume that means so Ahuitzotl can come back in here again.”

Daring squinted her eyes at the stallion suspiciously, watching him uncork a small vial full of violet liquid. Healing the pony being tortured didn’t make sense. But she knew that Sure Shot wasn’t stupid. There had to be a reason for it. “Wouldn’t making me suffer with a broken leg be more likely to force the answer you want out?”

“It’s not an answer I want,” he answered hotly, as if he was insulted. However, he didn’t continue on to answer the question.

While he kept a solid exterior, there was something else in his yellow eyes, something contradicting his actions. Before she could ask another question, the stallion placed the vial down and walked around to Daring’s hindlegs. She made a quick instinctive move away from him, only to be struck with a tidal wave of pain through her leg and spine. The mare could only bite back so much of her scream, resulting in a broken groan through gritted teeth.

“How can I fix your leg if I don’t know how bad the fracture is?”

“Why should I trust you?” she seethed. “How do I know you’re not going to just make it worse?”

The unicorn didn’t reply with words, but instead with a flash of his horn. Daring immediately flinched at the touch of his magic around her broken leg, grunting with her face contorted in pain. He released it almost instantly, letting it fall a few inches to the floor.

“Alright, you’re going to have to drink that fluid,” he said, floating the opened vial to her lips. Daring reflexively backed her face away from the small glass. “This is going to hurt quite a lot. Either you drink that or deal with the pain.”

The mare furrowed her brow in confusion, squinting her eyes at the vial. None of this made sense to her. Surely in their minds, Daring deserved to be put in as much pain as possible until they got what they wanted, so why would this pony save her even this much? However, it didn’t matter in the long run. With no foreseeable way of escape in her mind, Daring knew she would only be put through a divine amount of agony very soon either way. But that didn’t mean she had to deal with any of it at the moment.

Daring leaned her neck forward, allowing the unicorn to press the opening of the vial against her lips. She expected it to taste foul, but was surprised to find it flavorless. The small amount of alleged medicine took only a second or two for her to consume, and she gasped as it instantly took effect. But instead of the effects of the everyday painkiller, a warmth spread over her leg and spine. They weren’t numb, but a sense of calm seemed to tingle in her damaged bones.

“There, all set,” came the stallion’s voice as he came into view. He didn’t look at her, but to the supplies he started to repack. Daring winced an eye at him, catching his attention. “So are you going to try and move that leg or not?”

“Wh-What?”

“It should be healed now,” he replied in a low tone, looking determined to keep his face apathetic.

Daring slowly bent her body forward on her side, looking down to her right hindleg. Her eyes flew open as she watched herself move it freely without so much as a pang of discomfort. It was as if it were never broken, save for the slight swelling just below her knee. She tested it further by pressing her hindhoof against the floor. Again, there was zero pain. It was like the time it took for the leg to heal had been speed up to an impossible degree. Daring looked up again, keeping her bewildered eyes on the unicorn as she rose to her haunches. “H-How...”

The unicorn let out a short burst of air through his nostrils, throwing the bag over his back and turning to walk away. Once he reached the towering stone doors, he stopped to give her a final sidelong glance. “One more thing, Daring Do: that vial never existed.”

With that, he left through the stone doors, and she heard him lock it a moment after. Daring stared with wide eyes at the spot the unicorn had previously occupied, her jaw agape. She waited a few moments to find the torches still lit. She didn’t notice it at first, but a short smile played on her lips.

Eight - Tale of an Immortal

Braeburn watched as Twilight and Applejack shrunk to the size of house cats as the craft ascended into the sky, their solemn expressions becoming more and more indistinguishable as they rose. The yellow mare pulled a lever on the wall of the small bay room, and the ramp slowly lifted upwards and leveled-off with the rest of the floor. For a moment, the bay room was pitch-black until a door was opened, allowing them to see again. The yellow mare stood in the threshold, gesturing for them to follow with a motion of her head. Bullet silently complied, his son right behind him.

They walked into what looked like a living room. There was a pair of small couches on either side of a coffee table to the left, with two cots on the right and another door directly across from the bay room. Before Braeburn could take a more thorough look around, the entire cabin shifted violently upward. The turbines roared to life as they climbed upward, forcing Braeburn's legs to stiffen out of reflex. He closed his eyes as nausea started to rear its ugly head. The stallion shook it off, swallowing as a precaution.

"Never been on an airship, forgot about that," Bullet mused, who looked as if he was still planted comfortably on the ground. Braeburn winced, distracting himself with only his immediate surroundings. He kept his eyes off the windows lining the side walls, looking back to the pair of temporary beds on the right. Both were unmade, the covers and sheets bundled loosely on the ends of the cots. Braeburn couldn't help but stare at the bed closest to the bay door, spotting a single long, dark gray hair on the imprinted white pillow. He let out a breath of air through his nose, grinding his teeth with anxiety.

"Yes, that's where she slept, in case you're wondering," came the mare's voice, breaking him out of his stupor. He looked to his left to find her at his side, staring at the empty bed. Her ruby eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, still bloodshot around the edges. Braeburn watched her closely, finding the corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly. "I'm sorry that we came by so suddenly. I-I just couldn't wait for anypony else t-to...to..."

The mare's low voice broke and faded away, her eyes closing as she choked back a small noise of despair. Braeburn sighed, his compassion screaming at him to lift a foreleg and wrap it around her. Being a complete stranger he expected to be pushed away, but Braeburn was glad to find her lean into the embrace. She buried her face into his shoulder, her own convulsing as she quietly choked on her tears. The stallion held her close as if she were a long-time friend, resting his chin atop her swaying crimson mane.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," she whimpered.

"Don't be sorry, Miss," Braeburn whispered. "Ah'm glad ya' came to us. But right now ya' need to tell us what happened."

"And just where we're going. That be a mighty fine thing to know," said Bullet, who had seated himself on the rearward couch by the window, his bag and rifle leaned against the wall next to him.

The mare withdrew her face from Braeburn's shoulder, wiping her eyes with a hoof. "She was right; you are kind."

Braeburn smiled at that, although briefly. "Ah'm sorry, but if you could tell us-"

"Right, right, I'm sorry. Come on over and sit and I'll explain everything," said the mare, sniffing back her sorrow and walking over to the coffee table, sitting across from Bullet Tyme. Braeburn nodded, dropping his equipment on the floor against the wall before he sat next to his father on the couch.

“Ya’ might wanna start with yer name,” Bullet started, a small smirk of his face. “Or else Ah’m just gonna call ya’ ‘Sunshine’ with that mark o’ yers.”

To Braeburn’s surprise, the mare actually smiled, if only for an instance. Otherwise he would have scoffed at his father’s rudeness. He didn’t notice it before, but her flank was adorned with a bright sunrise, almost invisible against her yellow coat. “I can’t tell you that I’d enjoy that too much. My name is Day Break; I’ve been friends with Daring since we were foals.”

“Nice to meet ya’,” said the older stallion. “Obviously ya’ know my son, somehow. But Ah’m Bullet Tyme.”

“Oh yeah, my sister in Appleloosa knows you. Odd that she never talked about you, Braeburn,” said Day Break, looking back to him.

Braeburn thought for a moment, taking a wild guess when he said: “Yer sister is Smolder, right?”

Day Break snorted. “I take it the bright coat and mane colors tipped you off.”

Braeburn nodded with a polite smile. While he was anxious to know about Daring Do, he also needed the mare to calm herself before explaining what happened. He needed to know every last detail, even the ones that could have been difficult to remember. Judging by her change in mood, it seemed that he had been successful.

Day Break took a breath, evidently feeling that she needed to start talking about what had transpired. She cleared her throat, looking back to both stallions across from her. “Artemis will be out in a moment. We just need to get on course before he can step away from the cockpit.”

“Artemis?” Bullet asked.

“Daring’s godfather,” answered the pegasus. “He’s pretty much her means of transportation, whether it be by land or air. But he’s…not in the best of moods right now.”

Day Break went to open her mouth to continue, but was interrupted by the front door of the cabin opening. A tall gray stallion stepped into the room, his face gaunt and emotionless. Braeburn remembered his black mane to be neat and slicked back, but now it was messy, a few bangs falling on either side of his face. There was a noticeable lack of life in the stallion’s eyes, as if a piece of him had been taken away. Braeburn tried his best to give him a reassuring smile, but didn’t know what it ended up looking like. He didn’t properly regard Braeburn or his father, but simply paced over slowly, eyeing the beige earth pony with a level of familiarity. Artemis stopped next to the table, not bothering to sit down in the free seat next to the mare.

“I’m glad you could make it, Braeburn,” he said slowly, his once joyful tones now dark and grave. “And you too, Bullet Tyme.”

“Ah take it Daring told you about me too?” Bullet smirked, unsurprised. Artemis only nodded once. “Well, Ah’m sorry ‘bout yer goddaughter. Braeburn’s told me ‘bout yer family situation. We’ll get her back, partner.”

“I certainly hope so,” Artemis replied, nodding to Day Break to continue the conversation.

“Right, well, I’ll explain what happened,” the yellow mare started after a long exhale. “As Daring might have told you, Ahuitzotl isn’t just some storybook villain.”

“Ah apologize to cut ya’ off already, but just who or what is Ahuitzotl?” asked Bullet quickly, as if the question had been burning in his mind. Braeburn had never thought to bring it up in his recollections of his and Daring Do’s last adventure, for the creature had only been mentioned to him briefly in conversation once before.

“Right, you probably haven’t been told,” Day Break acknowledged, sitting up straighter now. “Ahuitzotl is…well, a monster; a beast that I didn’t take seriously until I saw him for myself. From what Daring has told me, he’s…”

When Day Break hesitated, Artemis finished the sentence for her: “An immortal.”

Braeburn’s eyes flew open in disbelief, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach once again. Daring had never mentioned that, nor had the books, even. He had always thought Ahuitzotl to be of the same league as a dragon or a manticore; powerful, but not unable to die.

“What?” Bullet exclaimed. “So he’s like the Princesses?”

“No, not quite,” Artemis answered. “Celestia and Luna are of a superior type of immortal. They are goddesses, while Ahuitzotl merely cannot die by natural causes. He has lived for hundreds of years, too powerful to be killed by another.”

“Then how come Ah haven’t heard o’ this ‘Ahuitzotl’?” Bullet asked. “Wouldn’t a thing like that be public knowledge?”

“Technically, he is,” said Artemis, becoming more vocal now. “If you read the books, you would know more about him. But again, they are merely tales for fillies and colts. He was treated as a mere fictional antagonist, not the ugly beast that he truly is. Not only that, but Ahuitzotl has remained outside of Equestria’s borders, far beyond the awareness of our government. Daring and I are the only ponies that have trekked the foreign land and lived to tell the tale.”

“Alright, so then he has some sorta grudge with Daring, then?” asked Braeburn, trying to learn as much as he could as quickly as possible.

“Not just a grudge,” said Day Break gravely, putting heavy emphasis on her words. “After Daring recovered the Sapphire Statue, she escaped the tomb and fell right into Ahuitzotl’s trap. You may remember that from the first book, Braeburn.”

The riflepony nodded, able to recall the scene quite clearly, as he had read it quite a few times before meeting the real Daring Do. Day Break continued on:

“Well, Ahuitzotl wasn’t exactly thrilled to find somepony stealing what he built a tomb to protect.”

“Wait, Ahuitzotl built the Tomb of the Sapphire Statue?” Braeburn asked, bewildered. “So…that explains why he built the trap that…”

“…That killed Daring’s parents, right,” the yellow mare finished for him. “But she didn’t know that, at the time. This was years later after their death. But she was told once she met up with Ahuitzotl himself. She wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear that, of course. There was a struggle, one that almost killed her. But in the end, Daring was able to buy enough time for the Keepers to use their magic and seal him in a stone prison underground.”

Braeburn quirked an eyebrow, holding up his forehooves in a slowing-down sort of gesture. “Whoa, now hold on just fer a minute. Who are the ‘Keepers’?”

Day Break cocked her head back, her brow furrowed with evident confusion. “Wait…Daring never told you about them?”

The stallion shrugged. “If it had to do with Ahuitzotl, then we kinda skipped over it. She only mentioned him once fer about a second.”

“Oh, then I guess all of this is brand new information,” said Day Break, turning to look up at Artemis. “You wanna tell them? I only know so much from what Daring told me. She was sorta vague.”

Artemis nodded once. “The Keepers are of an ancient civilization native to Mesoequestria: our current destination. They have a name in their own language, but that’s just the Equestrian term we have for them. You see, ever since Ahuitzotl was young, he has fueled his greed by stealing every valuable gem and artifact from the Ancient Mesoequestrians, even sometimes building temples to safeguard them. But unfortunately, he was never one to sneak in the dark and avoid detection. While he is indeed intelligent, he is still a beast of incredible power. He terrorized ponies in ancient times, destroyed villages and even killed many. Eventually, the ponies of Mesoequestria responded by gathering their most powerful unicorns to keep their treasures and secrets safe, protecting them from the likes of Ahuitzotl. Ever since those times the Keepers have been of the same bloodlines, and are now made up entirely of their descendants.”

“So if that’s their job, how was Daring able to take the Sapphire Statue?” asked Braeburn.

“Because Daring was the one that stopped Ahuitzotl, remember?” Day Break answered almost impatiently. “In return for being able to finally seal the monster that terrorized their lives for centuries, Daring was able to bring the Statue back to Canterlot.”

“And since that day, Daring and I have been friends with the ponies of Mesoequestria, as well as the current generation of Keepers,” Artemis continued. “But now it seems after all this time, Ahuitzotl found a way to break free of his seal. Unfortunately, we don’t know how. He couldn’t have done it himself. Day Break came back to our landing site yesterday and just told me to fly to Appleloosa. But I wasn’t about to leave my goddaughter behind.”

“Then why did ya’?” asked Bullet Tyme.

Artemis scowled, opening his mouth to answer but was cut off by the yellow mare: “Because he would have died if he went after her.”

“I could have at least tried!” the gray stallion exclaimed, although quietly as he glared at Day Break. “If you would have let me go-”

“Then we wouldn’t have a chance of saving her,” she replied, her tone calm despite Artemis’ anger. The stallion snorted, turning around and walking toward the windows on the other side of the cabin.

“She’s more right than ya’ know, Artemis,” said Braeburn, slumping off the couch and standing up, taking a step toward him. “Ah think we might know who let Ahuitzotl free.”

Artemis turned around, his dark, unreadable expression unfaltering. He looked Braeburn’s face over, clearly attempting to extrapolate his meaning. The gray stallion searched his eyes, his own flicking from side to side in concentration. “Sure Shot.”

Even though he had expected Artemis to guess correctly, he was still surprised at how certain the other earth pony was. “How’d ya’ guess?”

“There’s a roaring hatred in your eyes, Braeburn,” he said simply. “It tells me all I need to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

The gray stallion quickly walked around Braeburn, crossing the threshold into the cockpit and closing the door behind him. The cowpony didn’t look back, but merely stared at the spot where Artemis previously stood, his eyes half-lidded. For whatever reason, his mind couldn’t stop playing back what he had said. ‘A roaring hatred.’ The words jarred the stallion’s mind, unable to shake the thought free. Hate wasn’t a word that Braeburn had ever even thought to use. It described an emotion he had simply never felt. But if there was ever a pony that made him think about the word, it was Sure Shot.

“Braeburn?”

The cowpony put a hoof to his temple as something rose to life inside his head. He recalled his first personal encounter with the bandit leader. Something he said was set aside at first, regarded as nothing but antagonistic banter.

I believe that the two of us are going to become great friends, but not at first. No, we must be rivals before we can become allies.

“Are ya’ there, boy?”

“So that’s how he’s gonna do it…” the riflepony breathed, turning around to find Bullet Tyme and Day Break sitting on the opposing couches, staring at him with evident concern. His father winced at him, standing up to approach him.

“What’re ya’ talkin’ ‘bout?” Bullet asked.

“Ya’ remember what Sure Shot said to me on that rooftop in Appleloosa? ‘Bout how he wanted me to become part o’ his gang? Ah reckon Ah know how he’s tryin’ to do it.”

Bullet’s answer was quick, as if he had read his son’s mind. “With hate, boy. Ah know. Ah didn’t need Artemis to tell me.”

Braeburn blinked, his head cocking back an inch or two. “How’d ya’ know that?”

His father looked away from him, casting a brief glance back to Day Break. He then lowered his voice to a barely-audible whisper, his words almost nonexistent. “That’s somethin’ we’ll talk about in the future.”

Braeburn furrowed his brow, his eyes widening. He looked his father’s face over, searching for the answers to the many questions that sprung to life in his head. Unfortunately, Bullet Tyme provided no hint or explanation with his unreadable expression. He looked away from his son, taking a step to walk around him as Artemis had done only moments before. However, his pacing was halted by a loud crack that lifted everypony’s ears in shock.

The sound was quick, but definitely existent. Braeburn was certain that his ears hadn’t deceived him due to the sheer volume of the noise. His suspicions were then confirmed at the sound of another sharp crack coming from somewhere outside. Braeburn spun his head around to his father, who looked to be recognizing the noise as well.

“What the hay was that?” Day Break asked worriedly, standing in her seat with her nose pressed against the window. But before either stallion could reply, the pegasus mare shrieked as she spotted something outside. Braeburn darted over to see what instilled such a fearful noise from her, only to grit his teeth in anger as his eyes fell upon a pair of pegasi flying parallel with the airship, brandishing short-barreled weapons.

“Can’t Ah take one darned trip without somepony tryin’ to kill me?!” Braeburn exclaimed before turning around to throw his rifles over his shoulder and onto his back. He looked back to Day Break, pulling her away from the window by the tail with his teeth. She fell off the couch and crouched low to the floor, making sure she was below the window sill’s level. “Tell Artemis to keep the ship steady so we can get these bandits outta our manes!”

“Right. Take the back door to the bay and use the hatch on your left. Use the ladder to get to the maintenance dock on top of the balloon,” she instructed. The two stallions nodded, removing their Stetsons and throwing them on the couch, for they would only be lost outside. He dug in his back with his muzzle, withdrawing his lasso and throwing it around his neck. It had helped him before in a similar situation, so it only seemed right to take the precaution.

“Alright, now go!” Braeburn demanded. Day Break immediately complied, kicking the front door of the cabin open while Braeburn and Bullet Tyme exited out the rear.

“Fer a pony that wants me on his side, he sure is keen on tryin’ to take me out,” Braeburn said. He expected some sort of reply from his father, only to receive a curt nod in response. Regardless of the danger of their situation, the beige earth pony couldn’t help but wonder what his father was thinking. Something just wasn’t right with Bullet Tyme, but this was not the moment to pursue any more questions.

They found the steel hatch that had been unseen before, and Braeburn immediately pushed the metallic lever down for it to open. The door instantly swung around to the right, banging against the wooden craft from the high winds. On the other side of the threshold was a metal landing leading toward the front of the ship, which rattled lightly under their hoofsteps. At the end Braeburn found a ladder, curving outward and around the large balloon that hung a few hooves over their heads. The younger stallion kept his eyes off the shores far below, as well as the vast expanse of ocean they were heading toward. Braeburn gulped, to which his father replied with a firm push forward with his head.

“No time to chicken-out now, boy! If they put one hole in that balloon then we’re pushin’ up daisies by sunrise! Move!”

Braeburn nodded once, summoning every last bit of his courage to mount the ladder and climb, Bullet Tyme right behind him. He didn’t bother letting his fear make slow work of his ascent, but instead climbed the rungs of the ladder as if a fire had been lit underneath him. The wind whipped his mane aside, almost cancelling out all other sounds around him. He gripped each step tightly as the ladder bent outward, his body set at a rough forty-degree angle from the metal landing below. In his ascent, Braeburn kept his eyes on his surroundings, searching for any sign of the two aerial bandits.

“Pegasi…why does it always have to be bandits that can fly?” he cursed aloud.

Fortunately for Braeburn’s nausea, the balloon wasn’t gargantuan, and they reached the top of the curved ladder within a moment or two. The two rifleponies instantly unsheathed their weapons as they dismounted the final rung and stepped onto a flat, wooden surface atop the balloon. It was tied down by many cords around the airship, presumably meant for maintenance of some kind, for it ran the length of the entire balloon. Braeburn spotted the two bandits flying a circle overhead, like a pair of vultures waiting to attack their prey. Now that he could get a closer look at them, Braeburn could make out more details of the pegasi.

One was a male with a small frame, his coat turquoise with a similarly shaded man and tail. The other was a rather muscular female, with a shockingly-bright coat of pink offset by a dull blue mane, blown back in the wind as well as her partner’s. The two pegasi cackled from above, working the bolt actions of their weapons as the two earth ponies racked the levers of theirs. Braeburn couldn’t think of a better time to test Gunmetal Grey’s work.

“Ya’ll got one chance to leave!” he bellowed over the wind. “Otherwise we’re shooting ya’ outta the sky fer good!”

But unfortunately, the pegasi didn’t seem to take his words as more than an idle threat. The female laughed aloud as they continued to idly circle above, speaking to the male. “Hear that, brother? No wonder Boss wants his head so badly!”

“He certainly has some fire, he does,” replied the pegasus stallion, his tones higher pitched than his sister’s, but not quite as animated. “And he even brought us another pony to die, he did. What kind prey, he is.”

Braeburn went to aim his rifle, but stopped as his ears pricked up to the sound of his father’s rifle chambering a cartridge. He looked over to see a brand new Model 1886 Marechester clutched under Bullet’s foreleg, looking remarkably better than the one that jammed in Appleloosa. The older stallion snorted as he spotted Braeburn eyeing the weapon.

“Upgraded to a .45-90 while you were gone,” he said. “Yer not the only one packin’ a little extra firepower nowadays.”

In his adrenaline, Braeburn allowed himself a brief grin at that, turning his gaze back to the pegasi overhead. They ceased their predatory circling to hover high above them, keeping up with the low speed of the airship. He hoped that their rifles were of a lower caliber and not enough to completely pass through the wood beneath their hooves and penetrate the balloon. For whatever reason, they had not simply fired through the enormous weak point of the airship. If they wanted to simply kill Braeburn, then that would be a much simpler route than taking him on in a gunfight. Whatever directions they had from Sure Shot were evidently very specific.

“What do you say, brother?” asked the mare. “Is it time to follow our orders?”

“Yes, I think idle conversation would be inappropriate now, it would,” the male bandit replied. Almost instantly the two flew away from each other, readying their weapons to engage their targets. But they weren’t as quick on the draw as the earth ponies below. Braeburn and Bullet Tyme immediately rose to their hindhooves, crouching as they aimed their rifles.

The turquoise stallion fired first in Braeburn’s direction, who reflexively sidestepped the predictable shot. The wood underhoof cracked, the bullet sending splinters in all directions to his left. Braeburn lined up the brass rifle’s advanced iron sights with his target, and unleashed the weapon’s fury. Without the necessity of switching his hoof between two loops of a single lever, his firing rate was instantly doubled as he unloaded a dangerously-quick three-round burst at the pegasus. The riflepony’s eyes lit up as he worked the smooth action, shocked at the lack of heavy recoil to his shoulder. His target acquisition was now perfect without the blowback, but the stallion above still managed to barrel-roll out of harm’s way.

“Lead yer shots, Braeburn!” he heard Bullet Tyme holler over the gunshots and wind. “Haven’t ya’ ever shot at a movin’ target before?”

Braeburn silently took his father’s advice as both of them dodged respective shots from their opponents. They kept either pegasus engaged, preventing them from switching their focus to the other earth stallion. The beige pony aligned his sights again, this time a few hooves in front of the soaring male bandit. He fired off two rounds, the brass shells flying out of the top of the receiver. The shots were too quick for him to know which one hit, but Bullet’s advice seemed to work as he clipped a single feather on the pegasus’ left wing. He faltered in his trajectory, but still returned fire with a single shot. Braeburn had predicted the attack, and sidestepped again to the left, but still a white-hot pain seared in his right shoulder as the bullet whizzed by his head.

The riflepony grunted in pain, his adrenaline rising as he felt warm blood trickle under the mantle of his duster. The pegasus stallion dove toward him, his wings tucked back and his rifle aimed for Braeburn’s head. The earth pony ducked his head down, throwing his body forward in a roll and out of the way of another whizzing bullet. He finished the somersault in a short skid on his hooves, rearing back up to aim at the ascending bandit. In his peripheral vision, he saw that Bullet Tyme seemed to be having a similar experience with the sister. However, it didn’t look like the older stallion was allowing his age to be a factor. Braeburn was momentarily distracted by his father, who was weaving left and right to evade his opponent’s shots, wood splintering directly where he would only be for a fraction of a second. His speed was extraordinary, and so was his return fire.

Braeburn tore his gaze away from Bullet Tyme, finding the turquoise stallion recovering high above. The earth pony swore under his breath as his target flew to the left and into the sun, blinding Braeburn. He knew that maneuver to be the pegasus’ intention, and held the rifle in his maw as he bolted forward toward the front of the balloon. Small bits of shrapnel exploded behind him, and he kept his head low and out of the way. Braeburn galloped at full speed past his father, evading the slow but consistent shots from above. He knew that it was only a matter of time until he would also start to lead his shots, so the earth pony dove forward, tucking his head down close to his body. He rolled out of the way of a round almost nicking his right hindhoof, responding with a shot of his own midway through the somersault.

This time Braeburn hit his mark, and a tuft of feathers blew apart on the pegasus’ left side. The bandit struggled to keep himself aloft, only to falter and tumble toward the top of the airship. Braeburn kept his iron sights on the stallion as he fell, standing back up on his hindlegs. For reassurance, the riflepony fired off another round aimed at the stallion’s remaining wing, but was surprised to watch him recover in the air with a quick motion of his body. All Braeburn saw was a turquoise flash before the wind was knocked out of his lungs. His body flew back as a result of the high-speed tackle, the brass rifle flying out of his hooves. When Braeburn opened his eyes, he realized that he was falling.

He had been shoved bodily off the front end of the balloon, with an enormous amount of force for an injured pegasus. Time slowed down for a moment as his gaze snapped from the blue sea below to the airship he was still level with. The wind rushed in his ears as he spotted something that could save him, if the earth pony kept his mind straight and his eyes focused. Braeburn bit down on the end of the rope around his neck and jerked the length free. As he fell past the windows of the cockpit, as well as a wide-eyed Artemis behind the wheel, the beige stallion focused his eyes on a short wooden tie-down point on the front end of the balloon’s maintenance dock. Praying that this would work, Braeburn throw the lasso upward. He held the other end in his teeth, bracing himself for the snap in the rope that would save his life.

Braeburn didn’t have to wait more than a fraction of a second before his prayers were answered, and the length of the rope straightened out and snapped tight. He held on with his teeth, grinning like mad as he began a long but blindingly-fast swing. He wanted to yell out in fright at the incredible momentum he was building, but couldn’t release the rope even for a second. At the lowest point of the swing far below the cabin of the airship, Braeburn threw his hindlegs forward to keep his speed up, his duster billowing loudly behind him. The roaring winds made his eyes moist, making it difficult to keep them open. The riflepony grunted when the wind pushed him toward the left side of the ship as he rose in the second half of the swing. He hoped that he could return to the top without breaking a limb. However, a lack of momentum and speed weren’t the issue. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

The rope was still tight as he rose to the level of the left side of the craft, his body now upside-down in his ascent. He panicked but for only a moment at his remaining speed, until he saw something that would return him to the maintenance dock as safely as possible. His eyes found the turquoise stallion, flying clumsily into his trajectory without even knowing it. Braeburn ignored his fear, and focused on the dangerous amount of adrenaline pumping in his veins. With what Braeburn could have only called a battle-cry, he released the rope with his hindlegs tucked in, ready to lash out at his target. The pegasus never even saw the flying earth pony until the very last instance. Braeburn unleashed all of his strength into a bone-shattering kick, a sickening crack echoing high over the balloon as his right hindhoof collided with the cheek of the male pegasus. His body went to follow the direction of his head, but not before Braeburn was able to wrap his forelegs around the turquoise pony’s neck. The two of them fell toward the top of the balloon, only struggling for a moment before they made impact with the maintenance dock. Braeburn was able to keep his opponent on the bottom of the struggle, but he was still thrown into a long tumble across the wooden surface. The earth stallion rolled back toward the front of the ship, this time skidding to a halt on his hooves before he got too close to the edge.

Braeburn found his brass rifle only a few yards away on his right, galloping over to pick it up and reengage the bandit. But when the iron sights of the weapon found the pegasus stallion, he was curled into a ball on his side, moaning and grunting in agony. The fall was more than enough to break a few bones, not to mention Braeburn’s weight strengthening the impact. His short bolt-action rifle was nowhere to be found, and the earth pony assumed it to be thrown overboard in the fall. But before he could even look over to check on his father, a high-pitched cry split Braeburn’s skull:

“Brother!”

He had no time to turn and look before his left ear was deafened by the piercing wail of metal ricocheting right next to his face, an explosion of sparks forcing him to reflexively shut his eyes and look away for a brief moment. When he looked back to his left in search of what ignited the sparks, he found the bandit mare and his father both pointing their weapons at him. Bullet Tyme wore an expression of relief, while the pink pegasus’ was that of utter shock. Braeburn’s eyes widened, his body freezing momentarily as he figured out just what happened. He had only seen a pony do that once before, and he almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

Bullet Tyme quickly turned on a hindhoof, snapping the barrel of his Marechester into the sky. With an enormous bang, he fired a single round straight through the right wing of the pink mare. She cried out in pain, immediately plummeting toward the dock at a sharp angle. The female bandit tucked her limbs in, and rolled across the wooden surface, landing only a few paces away from her brother. Braeburn shook the bewilderment from his head, sheathing his rifle and trotting up to the injured duo along with his father.

Bullet took his Marechester back into his left foreleg and shoved the end of the barrel into the stallion’s chest, who glared back up at him with utter hatred.

“You two better start talkin’!” Bullet demanded, his tone fierce. “Tell us what Sure Shot is up to!”

Braeburn, meanwhile, paced around to the other side of the two grounded pegasi, kicking the mare’s weapon off the edge of the balloon. He stayed in that one spot, not wanting to repeat what happened on the train to Dodge Junction.

“And what will you do if we don’t?” the stallion growled, seething through his teeth.

Bullet Tyme pressed the barrel of his rifle further into the pegasus’ chest, causing him to grunted aloud in pain. “Ah have the largest-caliber rifle in Equestria pointed at ya’. What d’ya think Ah’m gonna do?”

The pink mare moved her head toward her brother, but Braeburn didn’t move. He only kept one eye on their attackers, and the other on his father. “Brother…just tell them. We don’t know enough t-to endanger Boss’ plan, anyway.”

“We know enough, we do.”

“Do you wish to die, brother?” the mare asked, pleading in her eyes. But still, the stallion stayed resolute, even as Bullet Tyme racked a large .45-90 round into his weapon’s chamber. The female bandit gasped, throwing up a hoof in a stopping gesture. “He’s looking for something!”

The older stallion furrowed his brow, keeping his eyes on the turquoise pony below him. “We know that. Has to do with Cunning the Colt, right?”

“Yes, it’s an artifact,” she answered, ignoring her brother’s protests. “We weren’t told anything other than that, I swear!”

Bullet snorted, drifting the end of his rifle down to the pegasus’ hoof. “Ya’ know, Ah think Ah’ll just start with a leg. It’ll be gone in one shot-”

“Please! I swear to Celestia that we know nothing more!”

“A likely story.”

Braeburn looked down to the fretful mare, studying her face. She was just saying words to keep Bullet from shooting her brother; she was spilling her heart out, pleading to be allowed to live. Her eyes were glazed over, wincing with every painful movement. Her pink form quivered in fear, a few of her muscles shaking sporadically. Before, the two pegasi had been confident in their abilities. But now, when faced with death, the mare was realizing the result of their choices.

“Pa,” Braeburn interrupted, looking his father in the eye. “She’s tellin’ the truth.”

His father glanced across his prey, checking Braeburn’s expression. “What makes ya’ think that?”

“Trust me. Have Ah ever been wrong ‘bout a pony tellin’ the truth?” the beige stallion answered. “They ain’t flyin’ home with those wings. But at the same time, we ain’t keepin’ them on this ship.”

Braeburn paced around to his father’s side, bending down to grab the male bandit’s injured wing in his teeth. The pegasus screamed out in pain as he was dragged by his damaged wing, the horrid noise only intensifying as Braeburn tossed him off the side of the maintenance dock. His cries faded away after a moment, overtaken by the high winds atop the balloon. Braeburn spit out the taste of bloodied feathers before turning his head to the pink mare. At the sight of his morbid expression, she rolled to her haunches and immediately dove off the edge after her brother without another word.

“An odd couple o’ ponies,” Bullet muttered, sheathing his rifle on his back.

“Ya’ got somethin’ ya’ wanna tell me, Pa?” Braeburn asked, his voice barely audible over the wind. Bullet looked back to him, his expression confused. “’Cause there’s only one pony Ah know that can shoot a bullet outta the air.”

“Well, now there’s two. Come on so we can get inside already-”

“What aren’t ya’ tellin’ me?” Braeburn asked flatly, demanding an answer. His father was in the middle of turning around, only to stop with his eyes unfocused on the wood beneath his hooves. He looked back up to his son with an irritated expression.

“The hay kinda question is that? Son, I took a shot and it saved yer life. There’s a reason they call me Bullet Tyme after all. Now come on, let’s get back inside before a flock o’ griphons comes along to try and kill us too.”

Nine - A Pinprick of Light

Sparks walked the dimly-lit hallway, keeping his head down and his eyes alert. It was a dark place, the moist air cold despite the tropical outdoor weather. Even for an ancient ruin, the prison had a fairly simple design. There were a few interweaving hallways, two different stairways and a hoofful of torches dotting the walls. In the particularly dim corridors, Sparks was forced to use his horn to light the way. His mind, body and magic were severely exhausted, but if he didn’t follow Sure Shot’s every last order, he would face a punishment no pony would be able to recover from. The promises the purple stallion had made drove the unicorn forward, and he hoped that all of this would end soon. However, there was something that had been bothering the stallion; a question that he was on his way to have answered.

The unicorn turned a dark corner, doing his best to pass two large doors under the ascending ceiling. But he couldn’t help but flinch when he heard a crash, followed by a muffled scream. He winced, telling himself to move forward and ignore it. Just keep walking, just keep walking, he thought to himself. Sparks lifted a forehoof and forced himself to trot on by, closing his eyes momentarily at the sound of another agonized cry.

“That’s it,” he said under his breath, breaking into a full gallop away from the sounds and the doors. His quickened hoofsteps echoed off the stone walls, and he opened his eyes to turn another corner at the other end of the hall. He skidded to a halt in front of an open threshold, looking into a small room with nothing but a single makeshift table. Sparks remembered being ordered to craft it with his limited supply of magic, using only the sticks and vines he could find in the jungle surrounding the temple.

Around the table were three ponies: Gun Powder, Sure Shot and the earth mare that had done well to keep herself quiet. The black stallion shot him an annoyed glance, snorting a breath out of his nostrils. The green earth mare gave him the briefest of looks, her expression similar. Sure Shot, however, raised his eyebrows, quirking a small grin as he gestured for the unicorn to walk in.

“Sparks, there you are. How are you enjoying our current accommodations?” the riflepony asked jubilantly, as if they were about to start opening gifts on Hearth’s Warming Eve.

“They’re…dark, to say the least,” he replied uneasily.

“You’ve got a horn, don’t ya’?” Gun Powder scoffed, rolling his eyes. If Sparks had anything left, he would have entertained the idea of telling the stallion just where to shove his moronic remark.

“I need to talk to you, sir,” said the unicorn, dodging the gazes of the other two ponies in the dimly-lit room.

Sure Shot nodded, gesturing for Gun Powder and the mare to leave. Neither of them said a word as they complied, obediently exiting the room. The black stallion, however, didn’t leave without intentionally bumping into Sparks, who could barely keep himself standing as it was.

“Take a seat, Sparky. Tell me what’s on your mind,” said his boss, pointing to the stool that the mare previously occupied. The unicorn obeyed, thankful to sit down after such a long day. He slumped atop the stool, resting his forelegs on the tabletop in front of him. “Still tired, huh? I do apologize for having to utilize your talents so often lately. But I assure you, it was for the best.”

Something about the purple stallion made Sparks lift his head to attention, quirking an eyebrow at him. “You seem rather happy tonight.”

“And why wouldn’t I be?” Sure Shot smirked, leaning back and folding his forelegs. “We are mere hours from obtaining the information we came here for. Not only that, but I am very satisfied with our new ally. He has proven to be quite formidable.”

“Hours?” Sparks asked worriedly. “H-How do you figure that?”

Sure Shot snorted. “Let’s be realistic here; Daring Do is a strong, intelligent mare. But what pony can honestly deal with much more of this pain? I’m willing to bet that she’ll be singing like a canary soon enough and we can take our next step.”

Sparks cringed at his words, praying to Celestia that the other stallion didn’t see it. Thankfully, the earth pony seemed to be more interested in his rifle, which leaned against the table next to him. He adjusted its position slightly with a hoof before looking back to the unicorn.

“So,” Sure Shot continued. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

His unusual jubilant attitude was almost frightening to the exhausted unicorn. He chose his words carefully, hoping that the riflepony wouldn’t snap without warning again. “I-I was curious about something. You want Braeburn Apple on our side, right?”

“You’re wondering why I’ve been sending ponies to kill him if such a thing is true, correct?” he replied, the unicorn unsurprised by his deduction. Sparks simply nodded, sitting up straighter now. “Well I’m glad that you have been observant. It tells me that you are not a mindless pawn like most of my recruits. But I digress. Yes, one of my goals here is to have Braeburn Apple shooting for me. However, he is not a pony one can simply bribe or threaten. He is a pure stallion, so I need to take an alternative method of action.”

“So…having him killed is the way to go?”

“No, telling my soldiers to do so is,” Sure Shot corrected. “There is indeed a difference. I have my confidence in the Colt of the West. He wouldn’t be taken out by such incompetent grunts.”

Sparks snapped to attention, his spine cracking as he rose. His eyes widened as he furrowed his brow, realizing what the riflepony had done. “You…You sent Blue Streak and the Windburg pegasi to their deaths…on purpose? Why in Equestria would you do that?!”

“Calm down, Sparky,” Sure Shot chuckled, as if his horrid deeds were no worse than a frivolous shoplifting. “As I said, they were mere pawns in this little game of ours.”

The unicorn’s bravery rose to life in his appalled state of mind. “What is the purpose of killing those who have sworn their loyalties to you? Especially if you’re trying to recruit the pony you sent them to kill?”

“Have you not been paying attention? I do believe that I remarked upon Braeburn’s integrity. He will not be won over like Blue Streak or the Windburgs. No, with a pony like him, I need to utilize the art of psychology. In a similar manner to how dear Ahuitzotl is extracting information from Daring Do, I will need to break his spirit for him to do my bidding. It’s actually quite simple once you break down the process. He knows who is sending these ponies to quote-unquote ‘kill’ him, and with every one he takes down, he will hate me a little more.”

“And in the case that one of your ‘soldiers’ accomplishes the task you set for them, what then?” asked Sparks.

“They won’t,” Sure Shot replied confidently, brushing a hoof on his black vest. “And in the highly unlikely case that they do, it would just mean that I would have to work a little harder to find what I am looking for. It wouldn’t be the largest inconvenience in the world.”

“Okay, fine. So what happens when he finds you filled with the hate that you instilled in him?”

Sure Shot smirked. “I will turn that hate against him, and tear his spirit in two. You shall see in time, my friend.”

“More secrets, huh? Is there a reason that you haven’t trusted any of us with the knowledge of just what we’re doing?” Sparks demanded, his dreary mind unwilling to allow him to control his emotions. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the makeshift table.

“For the pay everypony will be receiving, and the freedom that you will be granted, what does it matter what the goal is? Or do you wish for me to dump you back on the streets to be immediately placed on death row?”

“No, no that’s-”

“Or I could just kill you now,” the purple stallion interjected, placing his rifle on the table between them.

“No, really it’s not-”

"I mean, it would be much easier.”

“Please, I’m not-”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I mean no!” Sparks stammered, looking around to find himself on his hooves, backing away from the table like a frightened dog. “I mean…I’m on your side, sir. I didn’t mean to make you think otherwise.”

“Well good,” Sure Shot replied, sheathing the rifle on his back again. “Now I’m fairly certain that Ahuitzotl is almost done. Make sure you’re ready to heal our guest.”

The blue unicorn nodded meekly, turning around to exit the room with his tail between his legs.

As if he didn’t have enough unanswered questions buzzing around his mind like a veritable cloud of angry hornets, Braeburn now faced even more just from the past few hours. His life had indeed been saved, but at the cost of an overwhelming thought bearing down on his already withered thoughts. He had hoped, even wished to be able to sleep that night, but with his brain constantly running on overdrive, it was next to impossible. To his surprise, he never even cast a single thought to the ponies they threw overboard, without so much as a hope to return to shore safely. Even when he recalled the event, Braeburn felt uneasy realizing that he found no compassion for the brother and sister.

Over a year ago, Braeburn would have been physically sick over bringing any sort of harm to another living creature. It may have been better if he had been through some kind of traumatic event, but that simply wasn’t the case. Even though his life was on the line, the once kind stallion wouldn’t imagine pointing a weapon at another pony. But now, it was different. He didn’t feel anything but apathy for those that once threatened him, and that alone was enough to frighten him. What was he becoming? Was he even comparable to the Braeburn that once was? Change was one thing; simple and easy to adapt to. This, however, was something completely different. Braeburn liked who he was; humble, kind, compassionate, although easily frightened at times. He was comfortable and happy, even if his life was monotonous at times.

But in the end, he had nopony to blame but himself. He made his own choices to arrive in the place that he was, even if the world around him threw Braeburn a curve ball. He had no control over what Sure Shot did, but it could very well have been somepony else worrying about it. It was a pipe dream at best, but one that he wished was reality. All in all, it wasn’t exactly an apple farmer’s job to thwart a bandit leader. But then again, Braeburn wasn’t so much a farmer anymore, but a riflepony. Braeburn opened his eyes again, anxiously throwing aside the right side of his duster to peak at his own flank. He let out a long sigh to see the same old red apple contrasting against his light tan coat in the pale moonlight.

“What, you think your cutie mark ran away or something?” came a low, female voice. Braeburn didn’t need to turn around to see Day Break pacing to his side, her wild dual-toned crimson mane blowing in the cool night air. She stood aside him, looking forward and off the front end of the airship’s maintenance dock.

“These days, Ah wouldn’t be surprised,” he replied solemnly, returning his gaze to the moon high above.

“Word of the wise: cutie marks don’t change after they appear,” she said, her lips tilting into a small grin.

“Duly noted,” said Braeburn flatly. “So why are ya’ up here? Somethin’ wrong?”

Day Break lowered her eyelids in a humorless expression. “You’re standing on top of a darned airship at night in the Fall. You’ve been quiet all day, and now you’re up here. I don’t know if you know this, but it’s kinda cold outside.”

Braeburn only blinked, looking down to the splintered wood beneath his hooves. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the entire day flew by in his somber contemplation. After the shootout, he hadn’t done a thing save for a quick nap and a short, uncomfortable conversation with Artemis. The rest of the day had been devoted to melancholy silence while his father conversed with Day Break as if nothing had happened.

“Did something happen after that…well, altercation?” asked the mare, tilting her head at him. “You and your father didn’t say a single word to each other since.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Braeburn immediately responded, ready for the question before it came.

Day Break recoiled slightly at the speed of his reply, furrowing her brow. “You seem pretty set on not talking about it.”

“And you’d be right.”

“So why’s that?” she countered, inching her head toward him in interest.

“Fer a pony whose best friend might be dead, ya’ seem to be in a pretty good mood,” Braeburn replied gravely, doing his best to evade her questioning.

“And for a pony that survived being pushed off an airship, you seem to be in a pretty bad mood,” she returned with a smirk. “Now tell me why.”

Braeburn exhaled through his nose, raising a forehoof to rub his temple, pushing his Stetson to one side. He pushed the hat back onto his head, and turned to face the curious mare next to him. “Day Break, Ah appreciate yer concern, Ah really do. But Ah’ve done a whole lotta talkin’ and not enough actin’ lately. Talkin’ won’t help me, you, Daring, or anypony else.”

“Well you and your father did a lot of acting today already.”

“Yeah, and we got even more to do once we get to Mesoequestria,” he said flatly.

“Is that what’s got your tail in a twist?” she replied with a dash of snark. “Look, with you two rifleponies on our side, there’s no way Ahuitzotl-”

“It’s not just Ahuitzotl,” Braeburn shot back. “We told ya’, Sure Shot has to be there. If Daring knows somethin’ ‘bout what he wants, then Ah can’t imagine him not doin’ anything he could to find out about it. And if Sure Shot’s there, then his gang is there, too. So not only do we have an immortal to fight, we have the most feared bandit leader and his followers to boot. So yeah, Ah’m a little bit edgy right now.”

“’Edgy’ isn’t really the term I’d use for you right now,” she chided.

“Fergive me, Day Break, but ya’ seem awfully calm right now,” said Braeburn, sidestepping her sarcasm. “S’pecially considering the state we met ya’ in.”

“Oh, so you’re a detective now,” Day Break mused. “No wonder Daring has the hots for you.”

“Day Break,” he replied, his tone resolute despite his heart throbbing at her words. “Do me a favor, and please don’t dodge the question.”

“Says the one dodging all of my questions.”

“Day Break,” Braeburn repeated, growing more and more impatient. He said nothing more, and simply allowed his level expression to do the talking. The pegasus in front of him shivered in the cold, but thankfully didn’t use the climate to parry his question once again. She pursed her lips, keeping her eyes on his. After a beat or two, she looked back toward the dark expanse of moon-washed sea, her usual snarky grin replaced by a genuine, wistful smile.

“I grew up in the poorest district of Fillydelphia. It was a place where dreams and aspirations go to die. Even the foals had a hard time grasping the idea of life goals. A long time ago, I had a dream that I knew I could never fulfill. I was a young filly, only eight years old at the time. I wanted to have adventure in my life, to uncover ancient secrets and the like. In short, I wanted to escape the poverty-stricken city that I grew up in. Even then I knew it was a stupid dream, but there was another filly that had the same dream, but was a lot more hopeful than I was. I met her and her parents when they were visiting the historical sites of the downtown district. She was a lively young filly, full of hope and a longing to learn everything.”

“There a point to all o’ this?”

“Hey, pipe down. I’m trying to open up here,” Day Break huffed, not pausing before continuing her story: “Her parents were kind enough to let me show them the city. While we walked around the usual tourist attractions in the nicer parts of Fillydelphia, I immediately made friends with the filly. It was amazing to me. I didn’t exactly have any friends to speak of before her, so I enjoyed every second I could with her. She was friendly, kind, intelligent, and funny. Her parents were just the same; a mother and father that cared more for their daughter than anypony else could. They were ponies that I didn’t have, and I couldn’t handle them leaving at the end of that amazing day. I tried not to beg for them to stay, but it’s pretty hard for an eight year old to hide her feelings.”

“Ya’ didn’t have yer own parents to get home to?” Braeburn asked sincerely, delving himself into the story.

“None that cared,” she scoffed. “But anyway, her parents pulled me aside so their daughter couldn’t hear, and asked me if I was homeless. I told them I wasn’t, but that I wasn’t exactly a fan of my home either. Smolder was too young to venture out on her own like I did at the time, but she had similar feelings. But even as a filly, I was too proud to let others pity me over my own problems. I left before any of them could say another word, and locked myself in my room when I got home. I woke up the next day to hear somepony knocking on my door. I opened it to see the filly from the day before, wearing a bright smile.”

Day Break paused for a beat, her eyes unfocused and her lips curled into a contemplative smile. “Her parents had such large hearts…they took me for a flight in this very airship, saying it was ‘the least they could do for such a good tour guide.’ Neither me nor my new friend could fly just yet, so it was nice to be able to be in the air as if we could. They showed me an incredible day; one that I’ll never forget.”

“Ah’m sorry, Day Break. But…why are ya’ tellin’ me this?” asked Braeburn.

The mare looked back to him again, still wearing that wistful smile. “Because that day the filly and I talked about our dreams, and the goals that we shared. She told me that she was going to become an archaeologist like her father, and that they had an expedition outside of the country that weekend. To me, it was like that filly was living my dream. I was a little jealous, and I admitted it to them. And do you know what her father asked me?”

Braeburn only tilted his head ever so slightly, now fully engaged in her recollection.

“He smiled at me like I was his own daughter, and asked me a question that changed the way I looked at the world forever: ‘what is the most important attribute of an archaeologist?’ And when I didn’t have an answer, he said-”

“Faith,” Braeburn finished for her, almost under his breath.

Day Break snorted. “Seems like that same filly gave you something to think about too.”

“Yeah, Ah guess she did,” he replied simply.

“So do you understand me now?” she asked, her hopeful expression unwavering.

Braeburn nodded once, squinting into the darkness to find a black mass on the horizon line. It was wide and flat, only rising in the center. He watched it grow steadily larger with every passing moment. They were getting closer to the island, and the sun hadn’t even begun to rise yet. At their current rate of speed, they would be arriving at their destination within the next few hours. “Ah can understand yer way of dealin’ with all o’ this, but Ah have my own way right now.”

“And what way is that?” asked the pegasus, her wings flapping once as if to keep themselves warm.

Braeburn turned on a hoof, walking back toward the rear of the maintenance dock. He stopped before he approached the top of the ladder, turning his head to take a sidelong glance at Day Break.

“With a whole lotta anger.”

Ten - To Cross the Threshold

Daring Do was glad to not have the torches left alight for her this time, for more reasons than one. The darkness shrouded her battered form, and hid what felt like a small pool of blood under her cheek from view. She wouldn’t have been able to look at herself without falling apart, and thanked Celestia that Ahuitzotl hadn’t thought of such a thing. Before the lack of illumination had struck a small sense of lasting fear in her heart, but now she welcomed it as if it were home. At this point, it wasn’t just physical torture, but psychological as well.

The fury that she felt was tearing at her insides like a cancer, spreading through her veins with no sign of stopping. Her stomach burned from hunger, but the mare knew that it would reject any sort of sustenance from the stress of the situation alone. The first round had been frightening, but this time it brought her to the brink of giving up. The most horrific part was that if Ahuitzotl had been in the room for another moment longer, she would have considered telling them everything she knew about Cunning the Colt’s diary. It had only been half an hour since he left the room, but she feared the next time he would come again.

Her throat was dry as a bone, not having any sort of liquid since her arrival to Mesoequestria. She wondered if they would feed her, or simply let her die from dehydration or starvation. There were several things to fear in her situation, but the uncertainty was the most prominent and looming factor.

“Hey.”

Daring almost screamed, but her voice seemed to be lost. Her eyes flew open, wincing reflexively at the sudden light of the torches. She hadn’t even noticed them being lit, or the sounds of the doors or hoofsteps. The mare found herself on her uninjured side, her broken right wing and foreleg curled close to her body. Daring turned her half-lidded eyes up to find the cyan unicorn again, his expression torn as usual. The pegasus choked on her dry throat, almost instantly finding a glass of water levitating in front of her lips. If she lost the only shred of pride she had left, Daring would have wept in appreciation. She closed her eyes and allowed the unicorn to pour the contents of the glass into her mouth, gulping back every last drop.

The stallion said nothing as she gasped for air once she was done, and simply floated the glass down to the floor. Daring kept her eyes away from her own body, but found that the warm puddle had come from her broken nose, which stung with every movement of her face. The blood had coated the fur on her cheek, but she didn’t care as she let her face fall back down to the wet stone. The simple task of lifting her head and neck had taken the wind from her lungs and she closed her eyes again, panting wearily.

“I knew his claws were sharp, but those were pretty thick cables,” she heard the unicorn mutter. Daring checked her shoulders and forelegs, realizing that his statement had been true. Ahuitzotl must not have realized that he had freed her of the steel bonds, but it didn’t really matter. Even if she had the will to move anymore, her broken bones and sore muscles wouldn’t take her very far. In the end, she could only lay there, bloodied and broken on the stone floor once again.

The unicorn poured another small vial of the unknown medicine down her throat, and immediately began healing her again. The powerful sedative was like a knockout punch to her dreary state. Daring faded in and out of consciousness as he worked, unaware of how much time had passed before feeling a dull prod against the side of her head. The pegasus groaned in a voice unlike her own, opening her eyes and sitting up with the assistance of her caretaker. Most of the pain was gone just like before, but she still felt exhausted beyond comprehension.

“Are you alright?” said the unicorn, sounding as if he were trying his best to keep his tone measured and apathetic.

Daring Do swallowed, finding her voice again. “What do you care…?”

“It is my job to ensure your health once Ahuitzotl is done with you,” he stated simply. Daring only scoffed, unable to look him in the eye.

“Then why have you left the lights on for me? Why give me a sedative that takes away the pain when you set my bones?” she asked, her voice cold and suspicious. The unicorn didn’t seem to have an answer for that, but he didn’t turn around to leave either. With a scowl, the pegasus looked up to him as she sat on her haunches, searching his yellow eyes for an answer. His gaze was unfocused on the floor between them, his face still torn between expressions. “How come you’re the only one besides me that doesn’t seem to want to be here?”

At that, the cyan stallion shot his head back up, quirking his brow. “I am here because of what I was promised, and nothing more.”

“And what was that?”

“None of your business,” he replied, walking around to her side. Daring went to flinch, but almost fell over in her fatigue. “I’m just taking care of the gash under your right wing.”

The pegasus frowned, looking him over with a calculating expression before lifting her wing, revealing the wound through her tattered shirt. The stallion ignited his horn again, floating over a damp washcloth with a spool of thread and a needle close behind. She raised a brow at the tools as he started to scrub the wound clean.

“You can mend a bone in seconds but you have to stitch a flesh wound?” she asked.

“My medical training wasn’t exactly of the traditional nature,” he replied, almost sounding annoyed.

“There’s a lot under that mask you’ve made for yourself, isn’t there?” she prodded, her voice cracking as the needle poked through her skin. The unicorn didn’t seem to miss a beat, and continued working without answering the question. “Can I at least know your name? Not that it would make me hate you any less.”

“I was not the one who decided to keep you here,” he said quickly, making Daring sense a need for him to provide closure for such an idea.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you still work for Sure Shot,” said Daring, summoning her limited amount of bravery.

“I told you, I’m here for one thing and that’s it.”

“So you’re not after what Sure Shot is after?” she asked, feeling herself get closer to an answer. The unicorn passed the needle through her skin a few more times, this time with a little more force than necessary. The mare bit the corner of her lip, careful not to show any sign of pain.

“If he gets what he wants, then I get what I want,” he said finally, giving her more information than he may have realized.

“So no; you’re not after what he’s after. I didn’t think so,” Daring smirked, the answers she wanted now within her sight.

“What are you smiling for?” he scoffed, halfway done sewing her skin back together. Instead of immediately answering, Daring took a peak at his flank, observing his mark for the first time. Upon first meeting of the unicorn, she expected to find something referencing a talent in the field of rifles. But after getting to know him only a bit longer, she realized that even this unicorn wouldn’t have any interest in such things. Against his light blue fur was a simple violet arcane circle, with two symmetrical starbursts in its center. With her knowledge of the arcane based mostly on its ancient practices, Daring could not immediately identify just what his special talent was. However, she could infer that his cutie mark had to do with one of the basic fundamentals of magic. However, she did have a vague guess as to what it was.

“Teleportation?” she asked, focusing on the stallion’s eyes as she made her guess. His pupils twitched, looking as though they were about to shrink.

“Well, that is the first time a non-unicorn guessed my talent,” he admitted, maintaining his neutral demeanor. “So, you think you know me now?”

“A little more than you might think,” Daring started smugly. “Let me just start by saying that you really need to work on your poker face. You’re not exactly an actor. You come in here looking worried about a prisoner that you shouldn’t have a single feeling toward, treat me better than you should, and also save me the pain of healing my broken limbs. I don’t have to be a mind reader to see the compassion in your eyes when you come in here. Not to mention how much you wanted me to know that my imprisonment wasn’t your fault. Obviously you aren’t evil like Sure Shot or Ahuitzotl, but then again, you’re still here working for them. Sure Shot must have promised you something that only he can give you once he accomplishes his goal; that much you admitted yourself. It couldn’t be something as simple as money. No, you wouldn’t need a feared gang like Sure Shot’s to obtain that. Heck, you could even get that by yourself, being so talented in such a useful field of magic. So that just leaves me one last hole in your story to fill: what has he promised you?”

“I don’t care how cunning you think you are, that’s still none of your business,” the unicorn countered once again, growing more and more flustered with every evasion. The pegasus ignored the pain caused by his rather hurried stitching, hoping that it would be worth the information.

Daring Do looked back to his focused expression, finding yet another confirmation to her theory. His yellow eyes bore no signs of hate or malice, but of fear. Daring would never have thought any of Sure Shot’s followers to be easy to read. This unicorn, however, seemed to be tearing at the seams just to maintain the thin veil over his thoughts.

“You’re running from something, aren’t you?” she said quietly, the idea dawning on her as she spoke.

“Stop talking.”

“Something you can’t hide from by normal means.”

“Stop.”

“And only an outlaw like Sure Shot can provide a safe haven for you,” she continued, empathy starting to lace her words. His next retort was unheard as realization washed over her mind. All the pieces came together with one simple thought. “If Sure Shot obtains what he’s looking for, then he will have the power to cease what you’re running from; the law.”

With that, the unicorn immediately ceased his work, thrusting his face into hers. Daring kept her stance, looking him right back in the eye. “I told you to stop talking.”

But Daring would not be intimidated so easily. “There’s fear in your eyes, but zero regret. You didn’t do whatever they think you did, right?”

“Shut up!” he yelled, his horn sparking with light.

Daring shoved her forehead against his, her eyes alight with courage. “You had nowhere else to turn when he found you; a unicorn with such a scarce talent, one that would prove useful enough for him to make you a deal!”

“I will get the location of Cunning’s diary out of you right now if you don’t shut your mouth!” he yelled again, his voice cracking under the pressure as his horn displayed an unstable discharge of magic.

Daring pushed her head forward again. “I’ve been taking a beating from a freaking demi-god; how much do you think a scared little colt like you is gonna do?!”

The unicorn blinked at a single word in her exclamation, and the mare took the opening. Daring ignored the searing pain in her limbs and stood up on all fours, separating their foreheads but still showing her dominance in the exchange. “That’s right, you’re scared,” she repeated, her voice lowering in volume. “Scared of what he’ll do if you slip up in the smallest way; scared of him keeping his promise to make you a free pony. But that’s not it, is it? No, you’re scared of the world he might create with the power he’s searching for. What is freedom really worth if the world is torn in two?”

This time, the stallion had no words for her, only another torn expression somewhere between anger and shock. Daring said no more, knowing that she had cornered her prey with the powers of inferring and deduction. She took a moment to silently pat herself on the back, considering her weakened state of body and mind. The mental exercise helped her maintain her sanity, while also taking another step toward a possible ally. With no other means of escape, the mare was left with only the unicorn.

The blue stallion took a long breath, never breaking his gaze with her. He finally spoke with a calm tone, but not without an edge of anger. “It would be better than an undeserved jail cell.”

Daring grinned inwardly, not wasting a second before replying. “I can help you.”

“No, no you cannot,” he said simply, his horn lighting up once again as he floated the severed lengths of steel cable over to her. Daring didn’t resist or struggle in any way, simply allowing herself to be bound once again. If she was found untied by Ahuitzotl or Sure Shot, then her only way out would be compromised.

“I have a lot of connections; I can make you a free stallion,” she said, her words growing desperate as the cables were mended and tied around her once again.

The unicorn snorted, his eyes growing weary as he ended the spell. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were Celestia herself, the charges placed against me will never be dropped by Equestrian law. This is my only chance at freedom, and I’m taking it.”

Without another word, the cyan unicorn packed his medical bag and walked away, leaving Daring to watch in defeat. But as he approached the towering stone doors, he called back to her: “The pony that was with you when you came here… her whereabouts are unknown to us. Ahuitzotl trusted that the jungle would take her before she could wake. It was a foolish move.”

Daring’s eyes widened with fear, but then she relaxed upon hearing his last sentence. The world seemed to lift off her shoulders just knowing that her friend and her godfather were alright. But then another pony came to her mind; one that she had a feeling Day Break would call first in such a situation.

“And what do you know about Braeburn Apple?”

The stallion stopped dead in his tracks before the doors, keeping his gaze in front of him. Daring started to panic as second after silent second ticked by. He let out a long sigh, barely heard across the enormous room. Daring went to reply, but couldn’t voice her question before the stallion exited the room.

He knew something, and it wasn’t good.

The black silhouette of the large island ahead grew in size as they made their approach. For the better part of an hour, Braeburn could only sit beside Artemis in the cockpit and stare at their destination with a scornful look. He felt his forehooves shake in apprehension, anxious to let loose on the ones that had brought Daring Do pain. He felt his sense of morality waning, but no longer felt scared of it. Instead, the riflepony embraced it, knowing full and well that he would need any extra edge to take on the monsters that stood in his path. If his tool was anger, then he planned to utilize every last ounce of it.

In the back of his mind, Braeburn knew the reality of the situation. This very well could have been a suicide mission, for he knew didn’t know how many foes they were about to face. It certainly didn’t help that he wasn’t exactly experienced in the field of combat. The stallion had indeed been involved in his small share of gunfights, but evidently the number of events was miniscule compared to his father’s experience. In the long run, Braeburn was a hopeless colt with a cap gun against an army of cannoneers. But even still, the stallion knew no fear.

He had a mission; a goal that he had no choice but to accomplish. Before he had been uncertain, but after what Day Break told him, there was no way he could hang his head in self-doubt any longer. The odds simply were not a factor, for only the mare he swore to save mattered to him. With her well-being put into question, Sure Shot had made this personal, and that burned in the earth pony’s soul more than anything else.

“We’re getting closer,” announced Artemis. “We’ll be landing in about fifteen minutes.”

Braeburn couldn’t have been more ready to hear those words. “Good, get us there as quick as ya’ can.”

“Are you sure that you won’t be requiring my assistance?” asked the gray stallion, looking to Braeburn with a sense of needing in his tired eyes.

“S’not that we don’t need ya’, Art,” Braeburn replied, repeating himself after only an hour of saying so.

“Yes, I get it,” Artemis grimaced. “Without being able to help combat those ponies and Ahuitzotl, I’m a liability.”

Braeburn folded his forelegs, keeping his gazed fixated on the moonlit island. “Ah wouldn’t wanna bring Daring back with her only family remaining dead. Plus, if we want this to work, we need ya’ to keep the turbines runnin’ in this thing.”

“Uh-huh,” Artemis replied, his frustration almost palpable. “Just… promise me one thing, Braeburn.”

Braeburn looked to the other stallion, his ears pricking up at the pilot’s sudden change of tone. Artemis’ entire demeanor had shifted abruptly, his words now holding a considerable amount of weight.

“That mare is like the daughter I never had. You promise me that you’ll get her back in one piece.”

Answering immediately would have made anypony think twice about his commitment to the mission ahead. So Braeburn sighed through his nostrils, letting down his emotional guard to give Artemis a reassuring nod, his expression level. “Ah promise.”

The gray earth pony furrowed his brow, the only sign that he had trusted the beige stallion. Without another word, Artemis grabbed a hold of a large lever, shoving it forward with a grunt. The cabin lurched as the turbines engaged into full gear, the airship picking up a shocking amount of speed. As they accelerated, Braeburn felt himself being pulled into the co-pilot’s chair, his eyes now completely open and alert. He cast a worried glance over to the pilot, finding the gray stallion’s face etched with determination.

“If Sure Shot is really there, I’d bet anything that he has lookouts posted. We need to give them as little reaction time as possible, right?” he asked, his volume rising to overcome the roaring of the engines.

Braeburn felt an insane grin spread across his face, elated to see a more reckless side of Artemis just when they needed it. “Right.”

“Get your father ready. We’ll be getting there a little early.”

The riflepony nodded, summoning a surprising amount of effort to lift himself from the chair. Once he got to his hooves, he walked to the back of the cockpit and opened the door, finding Bullet Tyme and Day Break backed against the far wall from the sudden increase in acceleration. Braeburn entered the central cabin, closing the door behind him.

“The hay is goin’ on up there?” Bullet exclaimed, adjusting his flat brimmed Stetson.

“I think Arty got a little excited,” Day Break attempted to answer, spreading her hooves to maintain balance.

“Yer darned right,” Braeburn replied, trotting over to throw his rifles over his back along with a satchel of .30-30 and .45 Colt ammunition. “Get yer things ready, Pa. We got a fight to start soon.”

Bullet Tyme nodded without any sort of question or complaint, mirroring his son as he equipped himself with his own weapon and satchel of .45-90 rounds.

“Can I get a run-through of the plan?” asked Day Break, standing awkwardly to the side as the two earth ponies adjusted the straps of their equipment. “I wanna make sure I got all of it.”

“Ya’ show us the way that you remember, and then fly back to the ship. S’all ya’ need to worry ‘bout,” Braeburn explained once he was satisfied with how everything fit. However, the mare wasn’t too excited about her part in the plan.

“Wh-What?!” she exclaimed, crestfallen. “You two told me that I could help!”

“Right, yer showin’ us the way. Ah reckon that’s a mite helpful,” said Bullet.

“Can’t rightly find a place quick enough without havin’ been there ourselves, ya’ know,” Braeburn agreed, his words hurried by his impatience.

“But I can do more than that!” the pegasus objected, putting a hoof to the floor. “You two don’t seriously think that you don’t need help, do you?”

Braeburn went to reply, but found that his father had the same concerns on his mind. Bullet Tyme finished what he was doing to stride over to the mare, his expression looming and grave. “Look, this is too dangerous to begin with. If we can only have those of us that are armed go, then that’s what we’re gonna do. We can’t be worryin’ ‘bout ya’ while we’re in there. Ah’m sorry, but that’s the safest way to do this.”

“No, the safest way would be to let me come along!” she retorted, looking the middle-aged stallion right in the eye. “You need every hoof you can get right now, even if some aren’t holding a rifle!”

Suddenly the cabin tilted forward, nearly throwing the three of them off balance. Braeburn looked out the windows to see a vast expanse of forest below them, the airship rapidly descending down toward the trees. He was nothing but shocked to witness just how quickly they were about to arrive, realizing that time was starting to become an important factor. Braeburn turned back to other two, finding that the drop had quelled their argument. He approached them with a huff, starting to accept Day Break’s tenacity.

“Ya’ wanna go with us? Fine, just make sure ya’ follow every direction we give ya’ once we get there,” said Braeburn firmly, his tone unwavering despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach. His father quirked a brow at him, to which he replied: “Arguing ain’t gonna save Daring any quicker, and Ah reckon it’s better to have another set of hooves come along with us, not to mention she’s a pegasus. We might need her, Pa.”

Day Break joined him to stare at the older stallion, who looked conflicted. But after the cabin leveled out and the roar of the turbines died down, he seemed to come to terms with the decision. Day Break nodded appreciatively before zooming over to the windows, spotting the tree line becoming parallel with the balloon above them.

“Open the hatch and go!” came Artemis’ voice, muffled by the door between them.

Braeburn froze for a moment, torn between offering him one last gesture of reassurance and simply leaving without another word. But as he watched Day Break and Bullet Tyme bolt for the bay door, he realized what the more prudent option was. He ran after them, crossing the threshold and instinctively closing the door behind him. The small room was pitch-black for a moment, until he heard the lever to the floor snap downward. The length of wood ahead of them cracked open, revealing the lunar-washed forest floor about ten yards below. The chains rattled as the ramp lowered itself, growing closer and closer to the ground. At that moment, Braeburn’s racing thoughts came to a screeching halt as he stood between the pegasus mare and his father.

Something turned the dial in his mind a few notches backward, forcing him to take in every last detail of the moment. They were about to plunge into a forest full of unknown dangers, aside from what they knew already. His previously unwavering confidence started to crack, sending a dreadful chill down his spine. He knew what they had to do, but it couldn’t have been more terrifying than in that one moment. His body wanted to shake, but Braeburn summoned the courage to quell his bout of jitters. Despite the staggering amount of variables that waited for them in the rainforest, he had to stay strong; he had to save Daring Do.

Finally the ramp was only a few hooves above the ground, and Day Break led the way off the ship. She spread her wings and bolted out of the bay, Braeburn and Bullet Tyme right behind her on the ground. The pegasus hovered above them, pushing the ramp closed before taking to the dark skies above. The earth ponies, however, took a moment to observe their new surroundings.

Braeburn nearly gaped in awe at the foreign environment, the massive clearing around them perfectly visible under the full moon. The canopies above were shrouded in shadows, the rest of the area washed over with a tint of calm, light blue. Massive, jagged boulders lined the outer perimeter of the clearing, casting looming shadows across the soft dirt beneath their hooves. The sounds of hundreds of nocturnal animals filled the air, none of which Braeburn had ever heard before in his life. The air was warm and humid despite the late hour, making him feel uncomfortable. He was used to the dry desert, not the sticky jungle air.

The two stallions took a few steps forward to clear the way for Artemis to land the airship, looking up to find the yellow mare hovering directly above them. “Trust me, sight-seeing around here is a very bad idea. Now let’s go!”

Day Break flew off, heading toward a break in the perimeter of stones protruding from the ground. Braeburn and Bullet Tyme galloped after her, their eyes wide and their ears lifted. The pegasus landed between two enormous boulders, standing at the beginning of the only pathway leading out of the clearing. Once they approached her, the mare started down the trail at a quick but paced speed. Braeburn did what he could to keep himself focused, but found it difficult surrounded by such a new place. Never before had he seen so many trees, let alone the life they were teeming with. Even the trail itself was lined with the overgrowth of the forest. The three of them had to keep their eyes alert for vines and other forms of vegetation, careful not to trip over them. The path was only straight for short distances at a time, curving around boulders, large trees and bubbling brooks. After a few minutes of galloping, Braeburn couldn’t help but break his focus to cast his eyes around and take several glances at the scenery.

But just as he looked away from the path, he felt his right forehoof stop moving forward, caught by something protruding from the ground. Braeburn felt his body fly forward for only a second before he caught himself, catching right back up next to his father. He must have made a noise of fright, for Day Break turned her head to look back at him with an agitated expression.

“What did I just tell you?” she barked, a slight echo of her voice carrying out through the trees.

“Lower yer darned voice, would ya’?” Bullet hissed, panting as he galloped behind her. “D’ya want us to be heard before we even get there?”

Day Break winced. “Right. Come to think of it, it wouldn’t hurt to quiet a set of hooves,” she whispered back, spreading her wings to fly a few hooves over the ground. While the two stallions in the rear still had to gallop, Braeburn noticed that the lack of her hooves did in fact make a significant difference in the sound they were making. But ultimately, they were still making their fair share of noise. He just hoped that nopony would hear them before they wanted to be heard.

“Brae, what’s up?” asked Day Break quietly, tearing his focus back to reality. Braeburn looked up to find the mare soaring up to his left, a look of concern in her eyes.

“What? Oh, a lotta things. But don’t burden yerself with me. Let’s just-”

“Yer thinkin’ ‘bout what yer gonna have to do, right?” said Bullet to his right, catching the younger stallion’s attention. “’Bout how ya’ won’t get away with just woundin’ these ponies.”

Braeburn grunted, now faced with yet another worry he hadn’t considered until now. His father smirked smugly at his own perceptibility. “Yeah, Ah thought as much. Listen, these bandits don’t deserve any sort o’ mercy. If ya’ have to, kill ‘em. It’s just how it has to be.”

“Yeah, Ah just wish it wasn’t,” Braeburn replied quietly. “Ah don’t wanna have to, but nopony is standin’ in my way tonight.”

“That’s how ya’ need to see it,” Bullet nodded, leaping over an exposed root. “These ponies have a price on their heads, anyhow. The world won’t blame ya’.”

But Ah will, thought Braeburn solemnly. With a determined grunt, he doubled his speed to keep up with Day Break, returning his focus to the winding path ahead. “Ah understand what we might have to do. And when we cross that bridge, Ah won’t hesitate to pull the trigger. Sure Shot and Ahuitzotl started a war when they took Daring Do; a war that Ah intend to fight. Ah promised Artemis that Ah would get his goddaughter back, and nothin’ in this world is gonna stop me from keepin’ that promise. And when the time comes fer Sure Shot and Ah to shoot it out, Ah’ll make sure that he will take his last breath that day.”

There was a silence among the three of them for a brief moment, until Bullet Tyme snickered next to Braeburn. “Well Braeburn, Ah sure do hope you can keep that promise.”

“O’ course Ah will,” he retorted, looking back to the older stallion. “And when we get outta here, Ah expect to know everything about yer ability to shoot a bullet out o’ the air.”

“Boy, Ah told you already-”

“Everything,” Braeburn repeated, placing more emphasis on the word than before, accompanied by his stern expression. Bullet Tyme may have immediately shaken it off, but the beige earth pony could tell that his words had indeed stayed with his father. Bullet only galloped on, keeping his gaze forward and away from Braeburn.

None of them spoke another word after that, merely keeping their steady pace as they galloped through the rainforest. Only twice did they allow themselves a short moment to stop and catch their breath. While it was still early in the morning, Braeburn preferred to be cloaked by the darkness. Without any of them knowing the layout of the temple, or even what it looked like, no articulated plans of attack could be made. Everything their intentions were made out of were based solely on assumption and educated guesses. It was risky, but it was their only shot. For all they knew, Daring could very well have been dead already. But Braeburn knew that she was a strong mare; one that was unwilling to simply give up despite the situation. For that, he had faith.

After the better part of twenty minutes, the small group stopped dead in their tracks as Day Break backpedaled in the air. The earth stallions skidded to an abrupt halt, obeying the mare’s gesture to keep quiet. It appeared that she had seen something they hadn’t, for Day Break flew straight up into the air, crouching in the branch of a high tree. She covered her brow with a hoof, squinting her eyes ahead through the high canopies of the forest. For a moment, she merely searched until her eyes widened with a victorious grin across her face. The pegasus dismounted the branch and flew back down, landing next to Braeburn.

“I think we found it,” she whispered.

“What did ya’ see?” Braeburn whispered back, elated.

Day Break pointed in the direction of whatever she spotted from the branch above, saying in a hushed voice: “There’s some sort of small ruin, almost like a stone hut in the trees about twenty yards down the trail. It looks really, really old, and it’s got two dumb-looking stallions guarding it with guns.”

A small part of Braeburn wanted to pump his hoof into the air, but settled for an accomplished grin. Bullet Tyme, however, seemed to keep his relief in check. “Just two? That don’t sound right.”

“In comparison to what, exactly?” Day Break asked, quirking a brow. “Look, who cares! There are only two grunts that don’t look like they know their flanks from their hooves! Easy, right?”

“She’s right, Pa. Don’t complain when the orchards give you a good harvest fer the season,” said Braeburn, instilling an odd look from the mare next to him. “What?”

“You really are a farmer, aren’t you?” she snickered, briefly placing a hoof over her mouth.

Braeburn only rolled his eyes. “Well, Ah was. Anyhow, what d’ya wanna do ‘bout those two guardin’ the ruin?”

“Uh, take them out, I would hope,” the pegasus replied with a touch of sarcasm.

“How ‘bout this,” Bullet Tyme started before pointing to Day Break. “You stick out like an apple in a banana tree with those colors o’ yers. Fly over and catch their attention, and Braeburn will take ‘em down from there. His .45 Colt is the quietest gun here.”

Day Break lowered her eyelids, her expression tired. “I’m gonna be hearing a lot more apple-related analogies in the future, aren’t I?”

“Filly, are ya’ gonna help us or not?” Bullet Tyme hissed, making the mare flinch in response. He threw up a hoof toward the sky, to which Day Break obediently followed. She spread her wings and bolted into the treetops, followed by the two stallions on the ground below.

“Why do we have to shoot ‘em?” asked Braeburn. “Can’t we just sneak up behind and-”

“No, we can’t, it’s too risky,” Bullet replied, keeping his voice low.

“Alright, fine. But is there any reason we need to distract them when we can just shoot ‘em?” Braeburn whispered, following his father off the trail and through a thicket of bushes and low-hanging branches.

“If we have the opportunity to take some o’ these bandits down safely, then we take it. Ah don’t wanna take no chances we don’t have to,” Bullet answered, lowering his volume even more as they approached the area the pegasus had pointed to. Up above, Braeburn spotted Day Break flying over the tree line, keeping a slow pace for them to keep up with. They kept their eyes on the ground, stepping over thorns and other questionable looking plants. It only took a few minutes before Bullet held up a hoof to stop his son, looking out of the trees at what they were looking for.

While Day Break’s description had indeed been vague, there wasn’t much more detail she could have gone into. At less than a story high, a small rectangular hut of stone stood in the exact center of a modest clearing. It looked to Braeburn like some sort of ancient tool shed, perhaps a bit larger. The ruin was covered in green vines and moss from the bottom to its almost triangular roof. Facing to Braeburn’s right was a small, open threshold, guarded by two rather plain-looking stallions. They both cradled a rifle in their left foreleg, their beady eyes wide and alert to compensate for the semi-darkness of the rainforest. This certainly had to be where Sure Shot was hiding, and where Ahuitzotl was keeping Daring Do.

It seemed as if they had arrived at the edge of the clearing just in time, for the yellow pegasus burst out of the treetops with a mighty flap of her wings. For the briefest of moments, Braeburn felt a pang of worry for the mare, up until he saw her work. Day Break immediately caught the attention of the two guards with a loud whoohoo from above. She dove toward the ground, almost grazing the bandits before ascending back into the air. Just as the two guards did, Braeburn drew his new rifle, aligning the advanced iron sights to take aim at his foe.

“Shoot to kill.”

Braeburn froze, his entire body locking up for a moment as the words were processed in his head. He lowered the barrel of his rifle a few inches subconsciously, turning his head as slowly as possible toward his father. He gave Bullet Tyme a look of pure shock, his eyes wide and his brow furrowed. He couldn’t have just said that. “What… what did you just say?”

“We don’t want these ones screamin’, do we? Anything that’s not a kill shot will make more noise than we need,” his father explained, although it was nothing the riflepony took solace from. “What d’ya even care, anyhow? Didn’t ya’ just say that this wouldn’t stop you?”

The younger stallion went to reply, but spun his head around at the sound of a mare screaming in fright amongst firing of guns. He looked up to find Day Break frantically dodging a flurry of shots in the air, looking as if she were seconds away from being struck. Braeburn grit his teeth, hating the world for forcing him to do such a thing. The riflepony aligned the sights of his weapon once again, aiming for the closer bandit’s temple.

“Don’t think about it, Braeburn,” his father whispered next to him. “Just do it.”

Despite everything he had said before, nothing could have prepared Braeburn for what he was about to do at that moment. He ignored everything else in the world, and simply did what needed to be done. The riflepony exhaled, whispering two words that he meant with every fiber of his being:

“Ah’m sorry.”

Author's Notes:

The character Sparks was mainly created for the scenes revolving around Daring Do's imprisonment, along with a few other reasons. Originally, Sparks was nothing more than a unicorn assisting Sure Shot in ways that an earth pony or a pegasus simply couldn't, especially with his special talent for teleportation. But as the story went on in its earlier chapters, more and more ideas arose to give Sparks more of a personality; to "fill him out," as it were. I wanted him to be more than just another pony Sure Shot recruited onto his team like Gun Powder or the Windburg Pegasi.

So eventually I decided to give Sparks his own character, background and personality (again) mainly for the scenes with Daring in Mesoequestria. Instead of chapters going by with just her reflecting on her actions and feeling sorry for herself, I wanted to place somepony there that interacted with her a little more than Sure Shot or Ahuitzotl. The idea was to give Daring somepony to talk to; to get to know as time went on. The other intent was to give the reader hope for Daring, as well as give the character herself a little bit of hope in the midst of such a dire situation.

Eleven - A Blazing Reunion

“A curfew?! What in the hay is this?!”

Several ponies were gathered around a newsstand in the center of downtown Ponyville, murmuring words of distaste and confusion toward a large, bright yellow flier set in the center of the bulletin board behind the salespony. Nopony seemed to know the reasoning for the notice, and simply demanded an answer from the owner of the stand. Two mares in particular, however, merely situated themselves in the middle of the small crowd. One stood on the ground, while the other hovered in the air to see the flier over the heads of the other ponies. The poster bore only a few words in a black, bold font:

ATTENTION! Until further notice, there will be an 8pm curfew set to all cities and towns of Equestria, effective October 20th.

“I apologize, everypony!” the stand owner yelled over the many voices, quelling them momentarily. “But I don’t know anything about this! A messenger from Canterlot just dropped it off a few hours ago for me to post on the board!”

“Well, what did he say?” asked a young colt. “Did he say why?”

“No, he did not,” said the salespony, his tone becoming irritated. “Now if you would excuse me, it’s time for me to close up shop for the night! It’s already past midnight and I should have been at home asleep hours ago!”

Unwilling to hear another word from them, the proprietor slammed the wooden doors of his stand shut, cutting off the disgruntled citizens of Ponyville. The small crowd slowly dispersed, grumbling as they walked away. The hovering mare flopped to the ground, sitting on her haunches with her forelegs crossed, a scornful look on her face. With a snort, the mare blew her multi-hued bangs from her face, casting them aside and out of her eyes.

“Now when am I gonna practice my new moves? Ugh, this has been the worst month ever!” said the cyan pegasus, defiantly looking away from the orange earth mare standing next to her.

“Now Rainbow, don’t ya’ think yer over-exaggerating a bit?” she said, giving her friend a reassuring smile. The cowpony nudged the pegasus to her hooves forcibly, receiving a shake of the head in return.

“I’m not exaggerating period, Applejack!” said Rainbow Dash, fuming. “I haven’t been able to train since I got all these hours of overtime thrown onto me! How am I supposed to get into the Wonderbolts if I’m working so much?”

“Ah don’t think Ah heard you complainin’ when ya’ saw how much more money you were rakin’ in ‘cause o’ that,” said Applejack in a calming voice.

Rainbow Dash groaned once more, rolling her eyes as they started to walk through the nearly empty town square. “Yeah, I guess…”

“And with all those extra bits, Ah reckon you can afford to buy yer good ol’ friend Applejack a late night bite to eat, right?” the orange mare smirked, prodding Rainbow with a hoof between steps.

The pegasus rolled her eyes, although not without a small grin. “Geeze, AJ. Don’t bother to be shy about it or anything.”

“What can Ah say? All that hard work gives a pony an appetite.”

“Yeah, I’m starving too,” Rainbow Dash agreed. “Go figure, I help you on the farm all night on my only day off this week, and I’m the one buying dinner.”

“And you’ll be gettin’ a whole lotta free cider this season, don’t you worry yer colorful little head about it,” Applejack reassured, bringing a wider grin to the blue mare’s face.

There was something soothing about Ponyville at night. All that illuminated the downtown district was the moon and a few street lights lining the edges of the town square. The streets weren’t bustling with busy ponies and shoppers, but were still alive in their own right. The town was bathed in the pale blue moonlight, bringing a sense of calm to the few that walked the night. A cool autumn breeze whispered through the air, barely heard amongst the sounds of echoing hoofsteps and hushed voices. Even in a small town like Ponyville, the late hour didn’t stop a few of the stands and shops from keeping their doors open for business.

However, Applejack knew little of the town after hours. At this time of night, she was usually in bed resting, preparing for the next day of work on the farm. But tonight, she didn’t feel quite ready to sleep. It had also been a few weeks since anypony had been able to see Rainbow Dash, so the orange mare was appreciative that she got the chance to see her. While the extra work was indeed good for the labor-reluctant stunt flier, her friends couldn’t help but miss her company, perhaps Applejack most of all. She looked over to her blue friend, nearly wincing once she took in the pegasus’ face. Rainbow’s magenta eyes bore dark semi-circles under them, their corners bloodshot and her pupils unfocused.

The poor mare looked to be running on fumes at this point, and the farmer was astonished to see her walking still. Even her mane looked to be displaying her larger workload. Her disheveled bangs now hung lazily past her eyes, dusting her left cheekbone before she could shake it away. The rest now draped over one shoulder, reaching the lower half of her chest.

“And speakin’ o’ yer colorful little head, ya’ mind if Ah ask what’s goin’ on with yer mane nowadays?” Applejack asked, quirking a brow. “I’ve never seen ya’ wear it so long.”

“Not like it’s my choice or anything,” Rainbow snorted. “I haven’t even had the time to get it cut since Cloudkicker’s old hours got dumped onto me, along with lazy Thunderlane’s!”

“Remind me why she’s been outta work?”

“She has a relative in Baltimare that got hurt in some sort of accident or something. So she’s been on leave,” the pegasus answered bitterly. “Kinda stinks for her, but it’s been exhausting for me. The only time I’ve been able to practice lately is at night, but I guess I can’t even do that now. Since when do we need a country-wide curfew anyway? Sheesh.”

“Well…” Applejack started, wondering whether or not to voice her suspicions of the curfew. It was possible that Twilight’s letter to the Princess had sparked a fear prominent enough to take action upon. But then again, it seemed foolish to do such a thing without solid evidence of a threat. Did something happen to give Celestia reason enough to take such a precaution? “… Ah guess Ah don’t rightly know. But hey, at least we still got tonight to be outdoors.”

“Yeah, I guess. Oh! Here’s a good place,” said Rainbow, stopping in her tracks to point out an open shop on the corner of two side streets. Applejack recognized it to be the town’s local doughnut shop, its large windows showing a predictable lack of customers. “Yeah, I think this’ll do just fine.”

“Ah wouldn’t mind a cup o’ joe myself,” the farmer admitted, following her friend into the modest store.

Rainbow pushed open the front door to the sound of a bell ringing overhead, attracting the attention of the few customers sitting with their food and beverages. The place bore the warm, wonderful scent of baked goods and coffee. One pony near the back of the restaurant, however, seemed completely focused on a small stack of books on her table. Rainbow Dash and Applejack took a few moments to recognize her in their fatigue, but eventually the pegasus called the mare’s name across the shop: “Twilight? Hey, Twilight!”

The violet mare’s head shot upward in surprise, her neatly-cut bangs bouncing from the sudden movement. Her eyes widened with glee at the sight of her friends, who trotted across the store to sit at the unicorn’s table.

“Rainbow? Applejack? What are you two doing here?” asked Twilight, her expression bright despite her tired looking eyes.

“Ah’d ask ya’ the same question, Twi’,” said Applejack, climbing onto the stool across from the violet mare’s, Rainbow taking the one next to her. The farmer gestured to a steaming cup of black coffee, wearing an odd expression. “And Ah thought ya’ hated coffee. And what’re ya’ doin’ readin’ yer books here instead of at home?”

“Kinda unlike you, Twilight,” Rainbow agreed, leaning her elbows on the round table.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” the unicorn started, grimacing at the half-empty mug next to her opened book. “I think this stuff is bitter and disgusting, but I need it to stay awake tonight.”

“You can’t sleep until you’ve filled your quota of books for the day, huh?” Rainbow chided, leaning her cheek on a hoof for support. Twilight looked up to retort, but froze as she took in the pegasus’ new look. Rainbow cocked an eyebrow. “What? Oh, right. Darn it.”

Twilight giggled as Rainbow Dash scowled at herself, attempting to throw her mane aside but to no avail. With a scowl, the cyan mare gave up as her prismatic bangs returned to the left side of her face. The unicorn quieted the rest of her laughter, placing a hoof over her mouth. “Don’t let Rarity see you like that. She’d have a field day with that mane.”

“Can’t ya’ just imagine cute little Rainbow Dash all fancied-up and ladylike?” Applejack teased, much to Rainbow’s displeasure. The farmer then took it a step further, wafting a forehoof through the blue and purple in her mane. “Ah can see Rarity puttin’ all kinds o’ products and other nonsense in here to make ya’ look like a real catch, RD. Maybe you can even borrow Applebloom’s bow-”

“Will you quit it?!” Rainbow exclaimed, frantically waving Applejack’s hoof away from her head. The other two mares shared a stifled chuckle, while Rainbow merely folded her forelegs with a cross look on her face.

A few minutes later, a waitress took Applejack’s and Rainbow Dash’s orders, returning promptly with two cups of coffee and a small plate of plain doughnuts. For a moment or two, the mares silently ate to their hearts’ content while Twilight poured herself into the large tome in front of her, occasionally flipping through pages as if to seek something specific.

“Anyway, what’s so important that you to need to be up all night reading about it, Twilight?” asked Rainbow Dash through a mouthful of pastry.

Twilight answered after scowling at a sip of black coffee from her mug, setting it back down scornfully. “Ugh, never again with this stuff. Oh, right; the books. Actually, I’m trying to find information about Cunning the Colt.”

“You mean AJ’s cousin’s ancestor?” asked the pegasus before washing down her bite with a long sip of her own steaming mug. “Wasn’t his diary or whatever recovered? Why don’t you just read that?”

“Because I already read Braeburn’s copy of it cover to cover, and I can’t find what I’m looking for,” said the unicorn, not bothering to tear her eyes away from her book.

“Would Daring know anything about it? I mean, maybe she knows more about the diary since, you know, she found it and all.”

“Well I can’t do that, considering…” Twilight trailed off. She slowly looked up to Rainbow, frowning in evident confusion. She then turned her gaze to Applejack, who stopped eating on reflex. “Applejack, didn’t you tell her what happened?”

“Uhh… well, we were kinda busy on the farm all day. Ah didn’t quite get the chance,” the orange mare explained, starting to wish that she had recounted what happened in Appleloosa.

“Tell me what happened?” the pegasus repeated, also staring at Applejack.

“Uhh…” she stalled again, taking a brief look at their surroundings. “Maybe this ain’t the place to talk about it.”

Rainbow Dash, however, did not look to be so easily deterred. Her eyes were wide with worry, her forehooves clutching her mug of coffee on the table. “Did something happen to Daring? Darn it, Applejack! Don’t keep me in the dark like you two did last year! Tell me what happened!”

“Alright, alright! Keep yer voice down fer pete’s sake!” the orange mare hissed, lowering her voice to a loud whisper as she made a calming gesture with a hoof. “This isn’t somethin’ you should be spreadin’ around. D’ya promise not to flip a biscuit right now if I tell you?”

With that, the cyan mare took a short but deep breath, nodding a little calmer. “Yes, alright?”

Applejack motioned for her to move closer, to which Rainbow complied, allowing the farmer to whisper: “Now we don’t know much, but me and Twilight were in Appleloosa the other day when we found out that Daring Do had been taken… by Ahuitzotl.”

“Wh-What?!” Rainbow exclaimed, her voice cracking as she hollered in the middle of the shop, attracting startled glances from the other few ponies that were eating around them. “By… he’s… what happened?! Where are they?!”

“Rainbow! Pipe down already!” Applejack hissed through her teeth, grasping the pegasus by the shoulder to keep her on the stool. “We don’t know nothin’ else! Braeburn and my uncle went after them already, but we don’t know where.”

“Well then let’s find them and kick Ahuitzotl’s butt already!” Rainbow replied, trying her best to keep her voice down.

“It’s not that simple, Rainbow,” Twilight joined in. “It’s not just Ahuitzotl we’re dealing with, here. We’re pretty certain that the bandit leader Braeburn put behind bars last year is behind all of this…”

The unicorn then went on to explain every last word that she, Applejack, Braeburn and Bullet Tyme had exchanged in Appleloosa. There were a few instances were Rainbow needed elaboration or reminders, but it didn’t take long for her to catch up.

“… And that’s why that curfew is being put into effect tomorrow, because of Sure Shot’s gang running amuck. It’s also why I’m up this late at night pouring myself into these history books. Evidently there’s something hidden in the pages of Cunning’s diary, but without somepony with a knack for deciphering hidden codes, I can’t figure out what it is. So I’m reading up on everything I can to see if I can find even a clue as to what it could be. Do you understand now?”

Applejack watched with a concerned look on her face as Rainbow Dash slumped atop her stool, leaning her elbows on the table with her head hung low. “Yeah, I get it. But at the same time, I can’t just sit here in Ponyville while my friend is in danger. Argghh, I feel so helpless!”

“We all do, Rainbow,” said Applejack softly, placing a warm hoof on her shoulder. “Honestly, standin’ ‘round while my family left has been eatin’ me up inside, but there ain’t nothin’ Ah can do to help either. Ah know it’s hard, but fer now the best we can do is wait fer our chance to help. Ah’m sure those two know what they’re doin’.”

“Are you sure about that?” asked Rainbow. “I mean, I know Braeburn and Bullet Tyme are awesome shooters or whatever, but are you sure they could take on a beast like Ahuitzotl?”

Applejack smirked proudly. “My cousin and my uncle may be stubborn and even a little foolhardy at times, but if there was ever a pair o’ earth ponies that could take a beast down, it would be them. Besides, Braeburn didn’t get that title just because o’ his heritage. Naw, Ah reckon with all things considered, he has every right to be called the Colt of the West.”

A few seconds of sobering silence hung over their table. Rainbow and Applejack returned to their late-night breakfast, while the unicorn kept her eyes on her book. After a moment or two, Twilight raised her head to take a brief glance at Rainbow Dash, throwing a hoof over her mouth again to keep from laughing hysterically. Applejack immediately found the source of her humor, starting to snicker as well.

“The bow thing?” she chuckled.

“The bow thing,” Twilight confirmed before the two doubled over in laughter while the pegasus scoffed, rolling her eyes.

It wasn’t long after the unicorn had left that the doors of the prison were thrown open once again. As expected, the tall, midnight blue form of Ahuitzotl trudged in, his scornful eyes locked on Daring Do from the other side of the enormous room. But when she expected the doors to be closed behind him, she was surprised to watch three ponies enter in his wake. Behind Sure Shot was a large black stallion, his bulky muscles rippling with every step. He had a short mane and tail of striking orange, similar to that of a blazing inferno. Behind the two stallions was a dark green earth mare. She was shorter than usual, but looked to be a few years older than Daring. She had cold, pale blue eyes, half-lidded in an apathetic expression. Her dull blonde mane and tail weren’t cut short, but looked as if she kept it at a certain length for practicality. Her swaying bangs dusted her brow, partially obscuring her left eye.

While Ahuitzotl was expectedly unarmed, all three ponies had one sort of weapon or another on their backs. The bulky stallion’s surprisingly-ornate blunderbuss hung lazily at his side, swinging precariously with every step. Atop his back was a parcel of some sort, wrapped in a beige fabric. He carried a black box with a small speaker by a handle in his teeth. On its side was a smaller box connected to its base by a coiled wire. The green mare, however, carried two completely different weapons. Across her back was a long-barreled bolt-action rifle, with a single wooden stock painted black. Sheathed at her hip was the exact opposite; what Daring knew to be a Mare’s Leg rifle. It was a lever-action like Braeburn’s Marechester, but with a short, octagonal barrel. The rear stock had been cut down as well, converting the rifle into a hoof-held weapon. The pegasus had only seen a Mare’s Leg rifle once before, for they were a rare breed. Judging by their choices of weaponry, Daring didn’t need to see their cutie marks to take a fair guess at their particular talents.

The four of them stopped halfway across the prison, all glaring at the pegasus in their own respective ways. Daring pushed aside the creeping sensation of fear rising up her spine at the sight of Ahuitzotl, trying not to flinch at the pure hatred in his eyes. He was crouched halfway, as if considering whether or not to pounce on his prey. The corners of his mouth twitched open and closed, revealing his gritted teeth. Sure Shot only confirmed her theory when he and his two bandits took position in front of him.

Daring Do chuckled, making sure it was loud enough for the feline beast to hear. “What’s wrong, Ahuitzotl? Did Mommy take away your playtime?”

The blue monster snarled, digging his claws into the stone floor. “Just you wait, you tiny mortal.”

“For what? For you to smack me around some more?” Daring shot back, her chide carried with a breeze of loathing. “Chuh, you need to come up with a better game, you simple-minded chimp.”

Ahuitzotl went to open his mouth to retort, but instantly went silent as Sure Shot lazily raised a hoof. He smirked casually, taking a few steps forward toward the bound pegasus. “As much as I enjoy such an intelligent back and forth, I’m going to have to move this conversation along toward something a little more… productive.”

“Where’s the party?” asked Daring quickly.

Sure Shot tilted his head slightly, opening his tired-looking eyes a bit more. “Excuse me?”

“Obviously you guys have somewhere you need to go with your things all packed up like that. It’s not like you need your weapons with me tied-up and a demi-god with a grudge standing behind you. So I’ll ask again: where are you all off to?”

The purple stallion found his sly grin yet again, taking a long blink. “Coincidentally, that brings me back to the topic I intended to discuss. You see, we’re growing tired of this humid place and it’s about time that we left. However, you know very well what we require in order to depart.”

Daring flinched inwardly, dread clawing at her brain. This was a tactic; a mere scheme to get her to talk when all else had failed. Time didn’t seem to ever be a factor to them before, so why was it now? The answer was simple, frighteningly so.

“So, in the midst of all this pain and melancholy you’ve been forced to live through for the past couple of nights, I’ll offer you a token of my appreciation,” Sure Shot continued, his animated tone growing darker with every word. “Tell us where your copy of Cunning the Colt’s diary is, and you will face no more pain, no more agony and most important of all; no more worry.”

This time, the pegasus couldn’t hold back the wince in her eye, her mouth growing dryer by the second. “Now why don’t I like how you worded that?”

“I can assure you that not a single one of my words has been untruthful in any way,” the bandit leader said, his voice as calm as ever.

For the briefest of moments, Daring had considered simply telling him everything about the diary, even the more complicated details that she had already figured out. But after what he said, there wasn’t a way she could have left the world knowing that a pony like Sure Shot would have the means to obtain a power like the one he was searching for.

“Well, I guess you lose then,” Daring exhaled, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

“Oh? Do I, now?”

“Yeah, you do,” Daring repeated, looking back up to the stallion. “It looks like you’ll just never know where I put it. Too bad, you were so close.”

But never did that insane, lopsided grin ever leave his face. Sure Shot snickered, throwing aside his matted bangs from his eyes. “I’m much closer than you think.”

The riflepony turned his head to the black stallion, giving him a covert gesture with a nod of his head. The large bandit smirked, as if he had been waiting for the signal. He reached his head back, biting down on the parcel on his back and dropping it in front of him. Whatever it was clanked against the stone beneath its wrapping, taking a moment to become still after impact.

“Are you absolutely sure that you don’t want to tell me?” said Sure Shot as the black stallion bit down on the end of the fabric, apparently waiting for another signal. “You may not wish to see what’s underneath that sheet.”

“You can show me anything you’d like. I’m still not telling you,” Daring stated, hoping that she wasn’t about to regret her decision.

Sure Shot sighed, almost sincerely. “Alright then. Go ahead, Gun Powder.”

The pony called Gun Powder grinned toothily, ripping the fabric away and immediately kicking its contents toward the pegasus. Daring Do scoffed inwardly upon viewing the item. It was nothing more than an old rifle; a Marechester, by the look of it. It was indeed rare to see such an older model in such pristine condition, save for a clean slice taken out of the forestock as well as the surface of the barrel. She tilted her head at the weapon, her eyes darting to the receiver as the torchlight flickered over the bluing. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, her pupils constricting as horror washed over her exhausted mind.

It was an engraving, etched masterfully into the steel of the receiver. Delicate yet simple scrollwork curved lightly over the cartridge gate and around the edges. But in the center of the artwork was the source of her dread: an apple. Her eyes darted back to the front of the rifle, remembering just how the damage to the forestock had been done. Her heart kicked into overdrive, pumping blood faster and faster through her veins.

It all happened in slow motion; the impact, the blood, the sudden gasps of last breaths and then the horrific falls as two bodies went limp, hitting the ground with heavy thuds. It couldn’t have happened; there wasn’t a way in Equestria that such a kind pony could have done a terrible thing like that. The riflepony clung to the thought of the past few seconds being a part of some horrid nightmare. But when he opened his eyes, Braeburn Apple was forced to face the result of his actions.

Both stallions lay silent and unmoving on the ground ten yards away, their eyes half open and lifeless. Two pools of blood had started to form underneath their respective heads, staining the grass and dirt a sickening dark red. It would have been one thing to see a pair of corpses, even if the beige stallion was the one to reduce them to such a state, but seeing two matching holes struck directly through their temples was an entirely different issue. Braeburn only stood there crouched on his hindlegs, gaping in horror through the iron sights of his weapon. It only took a moment of frightening realization for him to be completely infected with what felt like a sickness; something dark and looming that terrorized his entire being. He felt tainted, as if his soul had been mixed with one of a serial killer.

Braeburn had never felt anything like this before, not even after throwing an injured pony off an airship and into the ocean miles away from land. There was no confrontation here; he hadn’t even been sighted. It was nothing more than cold-blooded murder.

“Come on, Braeburn,” came his father’s voice, barely heard to the shaking stallion. “We gotta get movin’. We gotta save Daring Do.”

The riflepony slowly sheathed his weapon, fighting to control his quivering limbs. “R-Right.”

Braeburn forced his eyes away from the bodies of the two bandits as he jumped over the bushes and out into the clearing. As he approached the ruin, Day Break landed somewhere off to his right. He heard no words from her, nor his father behind him. He was thankful, for nothing they could say would have done any good for his racing mind. Braeburn found himself in the lead as he walked between the corpses, careful to avoid stepping in their pooling blood before crossing the open threshold of the stone structure.

The moon’s light did not reach any part of the inside, but a flickering, orange glow deep down seemed to just barely illuminate what was ahead. What could have only been assumed to be a torch lit the edges of a descending stairwell, leading what looked like several stories underground. Braeburn took a deep breath before carefully walking down the steps, finding them to be narrow and steep. They made a point of being cautious while still in a hurry as the three of them descended the odd stairs. The sound of their hooves echoed throughout the wide stairwell, only accompanied by Braeburn’s heavy breathing. It was immensely difficult not to dwell on his actions, but he found that keeping his thoughts focused on Daring encouraged him to keep moving.

The source of the orange glow came into view as they descended to the smooth, stone floor. As expected, the light came from a torch bracketed to the wall on the left, its flame licking at the surprisingly high ceiling. Ahead was a long hallway, twice the width of the stairwell they entered from. The walls were lined with several more evenly spaced torches, illuminating the area enough for Braeburn to wince his eyes in momentary discomfort. At the end of the long hall, he could just barely make out two other tunnels; one leading to the right, and one to the left.

“Wow… Daring said this place was big, but I didn’t think the tunnels alone would be this large,” whispered Day Break, soft enough for her voice to avoid echoing.

“Whatever ya’ do, Day Break, just make sure ya’ keep behind us. Bad enough yer down here in the first place,” said Bullet Tyme, his voice hushed as well. However, it seemed as though their whispers were for naught.

Braeburn cringed as he heard the far-off echo of quickened hoofsteps, growing louder with every passing millisecond. It was coming from one of the two hallways ahead, but he wasn’t sure which one. Braeburn felt a hoof nudge his shoulder, finding it to be his father attempting to grab his attention. He made a silent gesture with his own gun, as if he were loading the tubular magazine. The beige stallion took the hint, hurriedly shoving a hoof into his satchel to withdraw two cartridges. He balanced them on the bottom of his hoof, shoving them through the cartridge gate of his brass rifle. It was indeed wise to keep his weapon full to capacity whenever they weren’t firing. In a brief moment, Braeburn took a mental note of his weapons and their ammunition.

Both of his rifles were filled to capacity, with different amounts due to the vastly-different sizes of the cartridges. Thumper’s magazine could only hold six rounds of .30-30 ammunition, but would cause more damage and be more accurate at a longer range. The brass rifle, on the other hoof, could hold ten rounds of the smaller .45 Colt. All around it was much easier to use it as a primary tool with Thumper as a secondary. In the back of his mind, he recalled the extremely limited supply of last-ditch ammunition he also carried.

Braeburn felt the pegasus mare take a step backward, placing herself directly behind both stallions. Her breath was silent, along with everything else save for the galloping hooffalls that were increasing in volume. Both rifleponies crouched onto their hindhooves, their weapons raised and their eyes focused. They had to work quickly, for it wouldn’t be long until more gunshots were heard throughout the tunnels. Braeburn’s horrid actions from only a few moments ago felt like taking a lollipop from a foal in comparison to what he knew he was about to face.

“It came from down there! The entrance!” growled a deep voice from the hall on the left.

“Just remember one thing, Braeburn,” Bullet Tyme whispered. “These ponies threw their lives away when they accepted Sure Shot as their leader. Not a single one of ‘em deserves one ounce o’ mercy. Take ‘em down, but don’t lose yer focus.”

“Don’t worry,” Braeburn said aloud, all emotion lost from his face. “Ah’m all outta mercy.”

Two ponies rolled into view, quick enough to catch more than most off-guard. Their weapons were drawn, snapping to attention toward the intruders. But unfortunately for them, Braeburn and Bullet’s rifles were already engaged. The father and son fired, the sound of the massive .45-90 round bellowing throughout the tunnel. The two stallions dropped mid-roll, their lives taken in the blink of an eye. The second they hit the floor, the three intruders bolted forward. Braeburn and Bullet Tyme kept their rifles in their jaws, biting down on the forestocks. Day Break took to the air behind them, only flapping her wings occasionally to maintain her speed.

“Daring didn’t say much about the inside of this place,” she started, not bothering to whisper anymore. “All she mentioned was that Ahuitzotl’s holding cell is huge.”

Unable to speak coherently, Braeburn merely nodded to show his acknowledgement. They came to the end of the tunnel, and the beige earth pony led them down the left hallway.

“You sure you wanna go this way? I mean, this is where those two came from,” she said worriedly.

“Thaff’s feh foint!” Braeburn replied, speaking through the obstruction in his mouth. Day Break thought for a moment, nodding once she grasped his meaning.

“Oh... Fantastic,” Day Break said, sighing on the last word.

Braeburn led his father and the pegasus around the bend, panting heavily as fatigue started to take its toll from lack of proper sleep. As he turned the corner into the next hallway, he was met with a bright flash of azure light. A sharp gasp escaped his lips as his body was thrown through the air. The wind was forced from his lungs in one painful instance as his back made impact with the far wall. He clamped his eyes shut and his teeth gritted, his ears folding back. His duster hung low below him, along with his tail. A tingling sensation flowed throughout his body, something strange and foreign forced his legs apart, pressing him against the wall. Braeburn’s eyes flickered open, widening once they focused on the scene in front of him.

All four of his hooves were enveloped in separate auras of green magic, securing him in a spread-eagle position. In his peripheral vision, he found his father pointing his rifle down the hall, supposedly at Braeburn’s attacker. However, the beige stallion was more concerned at what was directly in his face. His eyes focused on the end of a gun barrel inches from his nose. He cocked his head back out of reflex, noticing only one buttstock behind his shoulders. He looked down the outside of the gun to see the reflective brass of his own weapon, scowling at his carelessness.

“Put him down!” Bullet demanded, racking the action of his rifle.

“Put your gun down or I will shoot your son with his own weapon,” said the unicorn, his retort loud but shaking. Braeburn looked around the rifle to find a familiar face, one he hadn’t seen since the explosion in Appleloosa.

The unicorn stallion had a coat of light blue, and a mane of vibrant teal. His bright yellow eyes were wide and his brow was furrowed, but his angry grimace couldn’t hide what Braeburn spotted. His small frame was shaking violently, like a frightened colt alone in a dark alley. His left cheek twitched occasionally, his eyes fixated on Braeburn. The earth pony noticed what looked like a small radio slung over his shoulder, hanging at his side.

“Boy, don’t think Ah won’t blow yer head off right now,” Bullet growled, his hoof wrapped tightly around the trigger.

The unicorn bared his teeth, the corners of his mouth twitching between a toothy grin and a scowl, as if he didn’t know how to feel about the situation. The aura of his horn flashed, and the lever of the brass rifle racked a new round into the chamber. “Step away.”

“S’alright, Pa. You can put that down fer now,” said Braeburn. Bullet Tyme cringed, flashing a glance to his son.

“The hay are ya’ talkin’ ‘bout?” the older stallion snapped, tightening his grip on his Marechester.

“Sure Shot wants me on his side, right? This pony won’t shoot me voluntarily, but he might flinch if you do,” Braeburn explained. As soon as he finished his sentence, the barrel of his rifle was shoved against his brow.

“Don’t th-think I won’t!” the cyan unicorn stammered, his forelegs quivering with evident anxiety. He grimaced as a pale blue spark erupted from his horn, floating gently down to the stone floor. Feeling curious, Braeburn attempted to move his right forehoof. His assumption had been confirmed as he found himself able to work against the unicorn’s holding spell, as if a pony around his size was simply wrestling his hoof back.

After coming this far, Braeburn couldn’t believe that he had forgotten about the unicorn working for Sure Shot. Something erupted in the pit of his stomach, roaring and tearing at his insides. All of his fear, all of his anguish and all of his hate boiled in his chest. There was no way he was going to get this far only to be captured by this small, insignificant colt. The unicorn was afraid, and Braeburn was going to take complete advantage of that.

“You, unicorn,” he growled, his eyes closed. “Are you the only one o’ yer kind here?”

“Wh-Why would I answer that?” the cyan pony’s quivering voice replied, causing an insane grin to spread across the riflepony’s face.

Braeburn bared his gritted teeth, opening his eyes wide. “So that’s a ‘yes.’ Heh… perfect.”

“Boy, what’re ya’ plannin’ here?” Bullet asked, only to be ignored by his son.

Braeburn shoved his forehead against the barrel of his own rifle, looking directly at the unicorn. “If ya’ think ya’ have what it takes to shoot me, Ah’d recommend that ya’ do it right now.”

“B-Brae… what are you doing?” Day Break asked desperately, a trace of fear in her voice.

“Pa, just make sure ya’ don’t shoot him.”

The beige earth pony took in a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly before unleashing everything he had. Braeburn flexed his shoulders, pushing all four of his legs against the magic binds around his hooves. To his elation, the blue auras gave a few inches before pushing back. Sparks erupted from the unicorn’s horn as he fought back, wincing an eye with a pained grimace across his face. Braeburn braced his shoulder blades and spine against the stone wall, grunting with effort. He ignored the confused glances from his father and the pegasus mare, keeping his eyes delved into his opponent’s.

“St-Stop! I’m warning you!” the unicorn barked, taking a step back with a forehoof raised.

Braeburn watched the aura around his rifle flicker, his confidence building. His felt his hooves lift from the stone, his muscles burning from the strain. A high-pitched wail filled the hallway, the unicorn’s magic waning and tiring. With a final roar bellowing from his throat, Braeburn snapped his muscles into overdrive, throwing his legs forward.

A flare of pale blue light flickered from the cyan pony’s horn as the magic bonds broke, allowing Braeburn to fall back to the floor. The unicorn recoiled violently, as if he had been struck with a heavy hoof to the forehead. The riflepony gave him no time to recover, grabbing his weapon from the weakened hold of the magic aura with his teeth, bolting forward. Before the unicorn knew it, he was tackled by the earth pony, skidding across the floor on his back. Braeburn stomped on his chest with a hindhoof, pressing him to the stone before striking his cheek with the buttstock of his weapon. With a rumbling growl, he then shoved the barrel of his rifle into the cyan stallion’s neck, his hoof tight around the trigger.

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

“N-No…” she whispered, a cold bead of sweat trailing down her cheek. “This isn’t… this couldn’t be…”

“Ahh… But alas, it is,” Sure Shot confirmed, approaching the pegasus slowly and calmly. “It was indeed difficult, but numbers always win wars, I guess.”

Daring gritted her teeth, baring them in a vicious snarl as her dreary mind awoke, her soul roaring to life for the first time in over a year. She looked up at the purple stallion, glaring with an enormous amount of hate. “What did you do to him?!”

“Nothing, yet,” he answered, stopping a few hooves in front of the pegasus, looking down on her with a malicious smile. “But it seems that he was very eager to save you, only to be captured. Such a sad tale this could become. That is, if you still wish to be defiant.”

The dark mare scowled, seething through her teeth. Never before had she wanted to strike back as much as that moment; to make him pay for what he had done. Before it was just her life in danger, but now it was also the pony she cared for the most. “You low-life scum…” she growled, her hooves pushing viciously against their bonds.

“Now, now. Your opinion of me isn’t going to change the situation you’ve put yourself into,” said Sure Shot. “If you would have just told me in the very beginning of this mess, you and your little friend would have lived. Unfortunately, you have forced me to take this horrid action. I’m not exactly proud of this decision, you know.”

In the background, Gun Powder and the green mare exchanged an unseen look, while Ahuitzotl merely grinned toothily at the peril his nemesis was facing. Daring’s insides boiled with rage, wishing to lash out at all of them, even if she were to die in the process.

“I must admit, I did not foresee such a dramatic change of face from you because of this,” Sure Shot continued. “You must truly care for him. A part of me wishes to point out the irony of the circumstances. It is just too bad.”

“Fine!”

“Excuse me?”

“Fine, alright? I’ll tell you where the book is!” Daring yelled, her scornful voice echoing off the walls. “But you better let him go the second I tell you, and anypony he might have come here with.”

If the riflepony wasn’t grinning before, he certainly was now. Sure Shot hummed a small chuckle, giving her a short nod. “But of course. Now, go ahead and tell-”

A sharp wail resounded in the large room, effectively silencing the purple stallion and temporarily deafening everypony in the room. Daring’s ears folded back on reflex, her eyes scanning the room for the source of the odd shriek. She looked up to find Gun Powder at the end of a frightened leap away from the black box he had carried in. Before anypony could make a sound, a voice emanated from the radio.

“Sir, are you there?”

Sure Shot flicked his head to the ceiling, rolling his eyes with a long sigh of annoyance. With a crack of his neck, the riflepony turned around and returned to his followers’ side, glaring at the radio. He wrapped his hoof around the microphone, lifting it to his mouth. “You’d better have a good reason for this, Sparks.”

“Yes, I think somepony… wait…” the voice replied, trailing off before becoming eerily quiet.

A few moments of silence went by while Daring merely hung her head, staring unfocused on the floor. Her eyelids drooped low, almost completely closed. Her monochromatic bangs obscured her eyes, veiling her from the world. She paid no attention to the odd transmission, deeming it nothing more than a miscommunication of some sort. Her anger quickly fizzled out into a dark melancholy, berating herself for what she was about to do. She prayed to Celestia that Braeburn was okay, but ultimately could not feel happy that his presence was near. In any other situation, Daring would have been beyond overjoyed to simply be near him. But with his and her well-being in question, she couldn’t bring herself to be happy about her decision. For all she knew, Braeburn was dead on the side of a road somewhere.

Daring scowled at herself as her eyes burned with the threat of tears, sniffing reflexively. She sat there for what seemed like an hour as the hushed voices of her foes echoed on the edge of her hearing. The pegasus paid no attention to the lack of feeling in her shoulders and forehooves, but merely slumped forward, allowing every bit of self-loathing to eat away at her insides. Once again, she had endangered the lives of her closest friends with her pointless adventuring. It was indeed her line of work, but this trip hadn’t been that of archaeology. She had been forced to come here, and never expected the string of events that had occurred. But still she felt a sickening pool of guilt boil in the pit of her stomach. She mourned for the assumed deaths of the Keepers, feeling a significant lack of anger in her depression.

“Should we try contacting him again?” said a low, vaguely female voice. Daring guessed it to be that of the green earth mare, being the only other female in the room.

“It seems to be a simple accident, nothing to worry about, Sure Shot,” came Ahuitzotl’s growling voice.

“I am nothing if I’m not thorough,” said Sure Shot.

Daring then heard the click of the microphone’s transmitter button. But before he could respond over the radio, another voice bellowed through the speaker, one that shook every fiber of Daring Do’s being. It was loud, loathing and utterly familiar.

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

Daring’s magenta eyes brightened, slowly widening to their maximum capacity. Her lips parted as she sucked in a short, breathless gasp. The fur on the back of her neck stood on end as a ray of light shined brightly in the darkness of her heart. Something attracted her eye to the rifle lying abandoned on the floor in front of her. Her gaze traversed the old Marechester, looking for any inconsistency in comparison to her memory. It took a moment or two, but she felt her eye twitch when she found it.

She remembered exactly how Braeburn’s rifle was scarred from a flying blade deep in Cunning the Colt’s tomb. She could recall every last detail, right down to how he had blocked the trap. Braeburn had reflected the blade with the left side of his Marechester. This one, however, was scarred on the same side as the cartridge gate… the right side. This rifle was a fake.

This rifle wasn’t Thumper.

Braeburn’s roar struck visible fear into the unicorn’s eyes, causing him to flinch in response. The earth pony seethed, gritting his teeth and doing all that he could not to sever the pony’s neck with a slew of bullets. A round was loaded and the hammer was engaged. All it would take was a mere twitch of his hoof for the lightened trigger to pull, and at that moment, Braeburn was not above making such a mistake.

“A-Assuming that she’s s-still alive,” the blue stallion grunted, his entire body trembling.

“You’d better hope to Celestia that she is,” Braeburn snarled, his hooves threatening to tremble with fury. “Because yer gonna get on yer hooves and bring us to her.”

“And have Sure Shot kill me? I don’t-”

“Ah won’t just kill you myself if ya’ don’t show us the way; Ah’ll make ya’ suffer first,” the riflepony growled, hatred dripping from his lips.

“You don’t understand-”

“Oh, Ah understand,” Braeburn interrupted, unwilling to listen to any excuses. “Anypony can tell how scared ya’ are to be here. That, and the fact that Ah need yer help are the reasons why yer still breathing. If ya’ help us, Ah won’t end yer life.”

“Yeah, but then Sure-”

“Ah’m giving you a choice! Be thankful fer that!” Braeburn hollered, pressing the rifle further into his throat, something he was becoming uncomfortably familiar with. “Either die now, or take a chance and fight with us!”

“Braeburn, think about this!” came Bullet Tyme’s voice from behind. “Who says this low-life won’t kill any o’ us in our sleep?”

“Because he doesn’t wanna follow Sure Shot,” the riflepony answered simply, keeping his eyes locked with the unicorn’s. “Do ya’?”

“It was a choice I was forced to make, yes,” the cyan pony admitted, his brow furrowed. “You and that mare… you’re both just detectives or something, aren’t you?”

Braeburn winced at that, slowly taking his hindhoof away from the unicorn’s chest, stepping back to let him stand while he cradled his weapon in his foreleg. The cyan pony tentatively stood to his hooves, cracking his neck but never taking his eyes away from Braeburn, as if to gauge him on some level. The riflepony stared back, not giving him any ground.

“You’re being serious…” the unicorn asked, his face stern but his eyes pleading. “You would actually… trust me?”

“Trust’ll come when ya’ earn it,” Braeburn remarked, opening his mouth to continue when his father stepped over, pulling him aside. Day Break flew over, joining the huddle. “What?”

“What d’ya mean, ‘what?’” his father retorted, his voice low. “Yer just gonna team up with a pony that just two seconds ago tried to kill ya’?”

“It’s not exactly my place to say here, but I agree with your dad, Braeburn,” whispered Day Break. “How do you know he won’t try to kill you again?”

“Because he didn’t try to kill me in the first place,” said Braeburn, not bothering to lower his voice. Instead, he kept his eyes on the unicorn; his words directed more to him than the pegasus. “There’s enough good in him fer me to give him a chance.”

The riflepony stepped past his father and Day Break, who only stood wordless in the background. He approached the unicorn, who seemed to have trouble looking him in the eye at the moment. Braeburn raised his chin, looking down on the shorter stallion with a level expression. “Now, where’s Daring Do?”

The cyan pony immediately gestured to the wall behind him with a nod of his head. “That’s the rear wall of the prison. But right now Sure Shot and his two most skilled followers are in there, along with Ahuitzotl. That pegasus has always situated herself about five yards from this wall on the other side.”

“Alright, then blow it down,” Braeburn said simply, turning around to approach the opposing wall. He stepped between his father and Day Break, ignoring their looks of shock.

“Did you not just hear me?” the unicorn said hotly. “There’s a highly-skilled killer and a demi-god in there!”

“We’re here to save Daring. If we have to fight to get out with everypony alive, then we will,” the golden stallion answered, bending his knees and scraping a forehoof on the stone floor like a bull ready to charge.

“But that wall is at least a meter thick!” the unicorn objected.

“So does that mean ya’ can’t do it?” asked Braeburn, stretching his neck and flicking his tail.

“Well… no. It’s just gonna take a lot out of me, as well as some time.”

“Wait, hold on,” Day Break chimed in, waving a cautionary hoof. “If Daring is where you say she is in there, won’t the debris from you blowing down the wall hit her?”

“Not necessarily,” said the cyan stallion. “I would just have to be careful and only clear out a hole large enough for us to get through. Regardless, I can control the blast and avoid hitting Daring Do.”

“That won’t be good enough,” said Braeburn. “Blow in as much as ya’ can, with as much force as ya’ can. Make a mess of it. Send the stone flying in all directions. Ah want this to be as much of a shock to Sure Shot as we can make it.”

“Taking advantage of the element of surprise? I like that,” the unicorn agreed, nodding. He turned to face the wall, at the center of the hallway. He lowered his head, closing his eyes in concentration as his horn blazed to light.

“Now hold it, Braeburn,” Bullet Tyme interjected, approaching Braeburn once again. “What exactly is yer plan here?”

An azure glow enveloped a large section of the opposing wall again, at about three meters wide, stretching from the floor to the ceiling. At that sight, Braeburn’s heart rate increased dramatically, adrenaline reigniting in his veins.

“The second that wall goes, Ah’m goin’ in and raisin’ heck,” he started, keeping his eyes on the light piercing though the large stone bricks. “Day Break; you go in after me, scoop up Daring and get outta there. Pa; you go in once Daring is outta harm’s way and help me.”

“Braeburn, that’s the most foolhardy plan Ah’ve ever heard!” the older stallion exclaimed, utterly appalled. “You’ll get yerself killed in there! And Ah’m not about to lose my only son over somethin’ so reckless!”

“Ah know, and ya’ won’t.”

“This ain’t gonna work, boy!” his father hollered right next to his face, desperation lacing his words. “Ah’m not lettin’ ya’ do this-”

“Father!” Braeburn yelled right back. He finally looked at Bullet Tyme, who recoiled at what his son had called him. “Ah’m not a foal no more, alright! Ah’m a grown stallion, and Ah’m not just gonna stand by while the mare Ah can’t stop thinkin’ about is in danger! This is what Ah’m gonna do. If Ah die tryin’, then the least Ah can do is save her. We didn’t come this far just to stop and backpedal. If you don’t wanna help, fine. Either way, Pa, Ah’m doin’ this. Ain’t nothin’ you can do to stop me.”

To Braeburn’s left, Bullet Tyme took a moment before letting out a long sigh. “You fool. You dumb, hard-headed fool.”

“Yup. That’s me.”

“Then Ah guess yer gonna need my help,” Bullet said, drawing his rifle once more, cradling it in a foreleg. “’Cause Ah ain’t letting ya’ do this without cover fire.”

“And you know I’m not leaving,” said Day Break, walking around to stand on Braeburn’s right. She took a similar starting position, flaring her wings toward the ceiling with a large grin.

For the first time that day, Braeburn found a sincere smile raise the corners of his mouth. The riflepony nodded, crouching low in preparation as the unicorn grunted with effort ahead. With a sharp crack, the wall split down the middle, a fraction of a second from being completely demolished. The cyan pony growled, his voice rising into a full roar as his blue aura flared.

Braeburn Apple dug his hindhooves into the floor, and launched himself forward.

“Well, it seems that we have an uninvited party guest,” said Sure Shot, his previous calm demeanor tearing at the seams. Daring looked up through her elation, finding the purple stallion nearly seething through his teeth. Gun Powder and the green mare stared at their superior with questioning looks, as if to seek direction.

“Alright, I’ll be the one to ask,” growled Ahuitzotl, his tail waving back and forth, the hand at its end curling into a fist. “Just who was that, Sure Shot?”

The purple earth pony closed his eyes, an odd grin spreading across his face. He placed a hoof over his eyes, chuckling softly. “Well, I do have a guess, but it is indeed a long shot,” he said, taking his hoof away to wrap it around his other foreleg.

On the other end of the room, Daring Do was barely listening to the conversation. Her entire body was shaking from head to hoof, her ears perked straight into the air. She couldn’t breathe nor blink, but merely quivered on the spot.

“Alright, I guess it’s time, then!” exclaimed Sure Shot out of nowhere, finally catching Daring’s attention. The purple stallion started toward her at a quick trot, unsheathing his rifle with his teeth. He had an insane look in his eye, causing the pegasus to flinch and scoot herself away on her haunches. However, Sure Shot stopped dead in his tracks.

A low rumble resounded throughout the walls, sending a high frequency of vibrations through the floor. Before she could ask herself anything, Daring noticed a faint shadow of herself appear on the floor. She turned her head, uttering a short gasp as her vision was filled with a bright, azure light emanating from the wall behind her. Her shaking increased in frequency as a high-pitched wail resounded throughout the room, forcing Daring’s ears down. Goosebumps formed underneath her fur, waiting only a moment to see what would happen.

There was a blinding flash, followed by the deafening roar of detonation. Large blocks of stone flew outward, a cloud of dust and debris billowing around the mare as she was struck with a blast of air. She clamped her eyes shut, her mane blowing wildly in the wind. Her ears rang from the pressure, just barely able to hear Sure Shot and his allies shouting in alarm. She cracked her eyes open again to find herself lying down on her side, facing a gaping hole in the previously solid wall. Through the dust, she saw nothing but darkness, but was able to pick up the sound of galloping hooves. Her vision was blurry from the blast, seeing two of everything, including a dark brown and tan blur charging toward her.

Daring Do gasped in fright, sitting back up to her haunches in a feeble attempt to move. However, her fatigued body refused to move on command, and merely sat there gaping at whatever was approaching her. As the blur came closer, vague details started to come into view. It was a pony with a coat of dull gold, wearing some sort of dark, billowing garments. Time seemed to slow down as a thought came to the pegasus’ mind, one that send a jolt of electricity through her skull. The pony crouched low in the middle of his gallop, launching himself directly over Daring Do in a horizontal flip. The shocked mare watched his trajectory with wide eyes, picking up the finer details as her vision quickly returned, along with a rush of pure emotion upon identifying the pony.

He was tall and lean, his lustrous mane and tail two shades of blonde. Atop his head was a dark brown Stetson, matching the long duster around his torso, billowing behind him. A coiled lasso hung loosely from his neck, ready to be lashed out at any foe. Strapped to his back were two crossed rifles, Thumper’s ancient rear stock peeking from behind his shoulder. His bright, emerald eyes were alight with an indescribable fury, their pupils shrunken down to mere pinpricks. It was him, the stallion that made Daring’s heart race; the pony that changed her entire outlook on life; the only being capable of inciting a true smile on her face.

In the apex of his arch, Braeburn Apple tore one of his rifles from its scabbard, bellowing a challenging roar as he landed on Daring’s other side at a sideways skid across the stone, disappearing through the cloud of gray dust. Before Daring could say a word, a flash of bright yellow appeared before her, accented with two shades of burning crimson. To her utter astonishment, it was a pegasus mare she knew all too well. Day Break circled around the monochromatic mare, stopping dead in front of her in a crouch with all four of her legs bent low. Daring felt another gasp of shock escape her lips as she was tackled by her friend, carrying her backwards through the air at a blinding speed. Before she knew it, they were through the hole in the stone wall, stopping in the middle of a dimly-lit hallway. The archaeologist’s back hit another wall, slumped against it on the floor.

The yellow pegasus let her go, sitting her up straight by the shoulders. Her ruby eyes were glazed over with a threat of tears, looking her over with an immense amount of concern. “Daring, are you hurt? Oh geeze, they freaking tied you with steel cable? Don’t they know forelegs don’t bend that way? Hey! Are you okay?!”

Daring only stared at Day Break, her lips parted and gaping. She panted slightly, her mind racing with varying incoherent thoughts. “D-Day Break…? Was that… Did B-Braeburn just go in there?!” she stammered as her heart pounded against her chest with worry. “Doesn’t he know who’s in there?! We have to get him out!”

“He ain’t goin’ alone!” said a slightly familiar voice. Daring looked to her right to find an older stallion she remembered to be Braeburn’s father. “You three just sit tight! We’ll be back!”

With that, Bullet Tyme galloped out of the hallway and into the cloud of dust, leaving Daring utterly speechless. She then vaguely recalled what he had said, wondering how he counted three ponies. She didn’t have to look long to find yet another familiar face.

The cyan unicorn she had come to know was panting heavily to her left, slouched over with exhaustion. Sweat poured down his face, his yellow eyes focused on the dark yellow pegasus. Daring lifted her head slightly, feeling the ghost of a smile appear on her dumbstruck face.

“When you said you had connections…” he panted. “… You better not… have been lying…”

Never before had his heart pumped so vigorously against his chest. Never before had his mind been so alight with adrenaline. Never before had he put his life in such perilous danger. Never before had he felt so purposeful, as if his actions were about to define the outcome of this war.

Braeburn Apple landed on the other side of a pony, keeping his focus ahead and on his objective. The stallion prayed that it wasn’t a hostile, but the mare they had come to save. He held his breath as he slid through a thick, opaque cloud of dust. His momentum carried the earth stallion far in his skid, racking the action of his brass rifle. Through the veil of debris, he was able to spot the orange glow of several torches illuminating the prison. Judging by the faintness of some of the lights, the room was evidently large.

Before he knew it, Braeburn emerged on the other side of the cloud, facing an enormous midnight blue blur hurtling toward him. All he saw were long, razor-sharp claws raining down upon him from above, along with a pair of fierce, pale green greens. The riflepony acted upon pure reaction, driving his right hindhoof into the floor and throwing himself to the left and out of the way. Braeburn tumbled across the stone, ending his roll in a crouch to find what he could only confirm to be Ahuitzotl. In his adrenaline, the finer details couldn’t be taken in. All his eyes found were a tall, muscular beast with a long head and bared teeth.

Ahuitzotl quickly recovered, turning on a paw to lash out again at the riflepony. However, Braeburn had already lined his sights and unleashed a lightning-fast three-round burst directly into the monster’s chest. Ahuitzotl faltered in his attack, quickly sidestepping into the gray cloud. Keeping his awareness around the prison, Braeburn turned his weapon to the other side of the massive room. To his left was a large black stallion he immediately recognized, galloping at full bore with a blunderbuss in his teeth. He had no time to stop Gun Powder in his tracks with his rifle, and immediately thought of a familiar route to take him down.

Braeburn rolled out of the way, sheathing his rifle at the end of the evasion. He quickly bit down on the free end of his lasso, ripping the rest of it from his neck. With a snap of his head, the beige stallion whipped the loop of his rope outward, yanking it tight as the lasso wrapped around his foe’s thick shoulders. As he had expected, Gun Powder wasn’t about to allow himself to be captured so easily. The bulky earth pony braced his legs and yanked back with staggering force, more than enough to throw Braeburn bodily through the air. His trajectory led high above Gun Powder, who directed the riflepony in an arch from below. Braeburn braced himself, landing directly on his hooves with a resounding thud. Before he made impact with the floor, he used his momentum as a boost of strength, yanking back on the rope with all of his might. The black stallion was forcibly torn from the ground, finding himself in the same circumstance that he had previously put Braeburn through.

From the floor, the riflepony rolled onto his back, unsheathing Thumper and aiming at the flying form of Gun Powder. He racked a long .30-.30 cartridge into the chamber, pulling the trigger with zero regard for the bandit’s life. With an echoing shot, the round made impact with the black stallion’s chest in the apex of his arch. He tumbled across with stone with heavy thumps, sending small shocks through the floor. Satisfied with his work, Braeburn rolled to his hooves and took a look ahead. At the other side of the room, he found two earth ponies. One was a purple stallion, standing behind a green mare pointing a short lever-action rifle right in the riflepony’s direction.

Before he could react, Braeburn heard Sure Shot give the bandit an order: “Immobilize, don’t kill.”

The beige stallion went to sidestep the shot, but found it intercepted in a flash of sparks in the middle of the room. In his peripheral vision, Braeburn watched his father burst through the dying cloud of dust, racking a new round into his rifle. But what Bullet Tyme didn’t see was the four-meter tall form of Ahuitzotl, his enormous jaws wide and descending upon the older stallion. There was no time to call a word of warning; no time to push him out of the way. Instead, Braeburn took action.

The riflepony aimed Thumper directly for the beast’s massive skull, firing two heavy shots, the weapon bucking his shoulder relentlessly. Two flashes of dark red erupted from Ahuitzotl’s head, the force of the impacts throwing his skull into the wall to Bullet Tyme’s right. The blue demi-god faltered once again, his furious eyes now focusing on Braeburn. He had a brief moment of frozen panic as Ahuitzotl bolted toward him in a vengeful rage. On the other side of the cathedral-sized room, Sure Shot and the green riflemare were about to engage his father in an open field. Braeburn had to help his father, but couldn’t do so with a demi-god bent on his demise. It seemed impossible, but even Thumper’s heavy rounds had next to no effect on the beast. Somehow, he doubted even his father’s massive .45-90 bullets would do much more damage. Braeburn could only pray that his last-ditch attempt would at least slow the feline beast down.

Braeburn sheathed his rifle and galloped at full speed toward Sure Shot and the green mare. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ahuitzotl making a hard turn in his direction, feeling the stone underhoof shake as the monster leaped toward him. The riflepony drove his forehooves into the floor, ceasing his gallop and jumping backward, keeping his head low as Ahuitzotl leaped directly over him. The large blue creature skidded to a halt in front of his allies, interrupting the firefight just as Braeburn intended. The stallion rolled to his hindhooves once again, ripping the brass rifle from its sheath to spin it around his hoof. In one smooth motion, a smoldering .45 Colt shell flew from the top of the receiver, and the riflepony caught the forestock in his free hoof. Before he closed the action, Braeburn grabbed a hold of the sliding lever on the side of the gun and yanked it back forcibly. He watched the carrier revolve vertically and slide backward, a reflective crimson cartridge ready to be loaded into the chamber. To his surprise, the front of the brass side plates jutted outward, pointed forward at an angle. With a grunt, he slammed the action shut, taking aim at the demi-god. He had no idea what would happen, but hoped it would be enough to take Ahuitzotl down. Braeburn roared with a divine level of hate and pulled the trigger.

There was a flash, just bright enough to make the riflepony squint his eyes before the wrath of the .45 Dragon’s Breath was unleashed. The barrel of the rifle erupted with a lance of orange flame, embers spreading wide around it. The maelstrom of fire lashed outward, making contact with Ahuitzotl’s evading form. The beast let out a high-pitched wail of agony as his long tail erupted into a blazing torrent of flame. Upon firing the round, twin jets of hot pressure billowed out of the opening the side plates had created. Everypony stopped and abandoned their positions instantly, leaping out of the way of the thrashing beast. Ahuitzotl tumbled to the floor, rolling across the stone in a blind fury as his tail was incinerated in the blink of an eye. Braeburn was forced to his haunches after the blast, the force of the recoil driving him to the floor. He held his bruised shoulder with a grimace, fighting through the pain. He watched for a moment in complete awe of what Gunmetal Grey’s work was capable of, along with the three other ponies in the room.

Ahuitzotl writhed on his back, opening his maw to its fullest extent to unleash a torrent of howling wails. His long tail was no more, leaving behind a charred, smoldering stump at the end of his spine. Braeburn quickly tore his gaze away from the creature, turning his focus onto the bandit leader across the room. Sure Shot had his eyebrows raised in a vaguely-impressed expression. He pursed his lips, nodding almost respectfully. The green mare kept her apathetic gaze fixed on Braeburn, who finally stood to his hindhooves once again, taking aim at the two of them along with his father. He pushed the sliding lever forward to its original position, and loaded a .45 Colt round into the chamber. The side plates on the receiver closed again with a light clanking sound, no longer needed to relieve any pressure. In his peripheral vision, Ahuitzotl returned to a standing position, his furious eyes looking between Braeburn and Sure Shot. It was clear that he was hesitant to let the purple stallion die, so he remained stationary and merely clawed at the stone floor and ground his teeth.

“You okay there, big guy?” asked Sure Shot plainly.

“Sure Shot, let me kill him,” Ahuitzotl growled, his eyes twitching with evident rage.

“Oh, I can’t have you do that,” said the purple stallion. “You kill him, then I kill you. Nopony wins there.”

“He took my tail!” the beast roared, hissing viciously at the end of his sentence. The bandit leader rolled his eyes, ignoring Ahuitzotl and looking back to Braeburn.

“Well… it looks like you’ve gained some unusual firepower since our last meeting, Colt of the West,” Sure Shot sneered, a small grin forming on his face. “And you as well, Bullet Tyme. Oh, it has been too long since we last met. How have you been?”

“This ends now, Sure Shot,” Braeburn called across the room, keeping his iron sights between the purple stallion’s eyes. “Surrender or die.”

“I apologize, but I won’t be able to make either of those decisions,” Sure Shot replied confidently, as if Braeburn hadn’t just unleashed a blazing inferno that floored a demi-god. “And wouldn’t you know it. Not only did you bring yourself to take the lives of others including one of my favorite rifleponies, but you also turned one of my best. I do hope you know that he will be killed for his treachery.”

“Ah can guarantee one thing,” Braeburn started. “If he is killed, it won’t be by your guns.”

The riflepony realigned the iron sights of his weapon, and cycled three more rounds at the bandit leader. In the blink of an eye, Sure Shot unsheathed his rifle and immediately deflected the shots, a flurry of sparks igniting between them. While the purple stallion was distracted, Bullet Tyme fired a single shot from his veritable cannon of a weapon, only to be deflected by an unseen shot. Braeburn’s eyes flew open as he saw the green earth pony holding her Mare’s Leg rifle up, smoke drifting from the end of its short barrel. His father seemed to be equally shocked.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that one little detail, Bullet?” Sure Shot smirked, speaking to the older stallion with a certain level of familiarity that sent a cold chill down Braeburn’s spine.

“Pa!” he called to his father. “Ya’ wanna tell me what the hay is goin’ on right now? How come those two can shoot a bullet outta the air like that? That should be impossible!”

“Oh, he never told you, did he?” Sure Shot cackled, while his accomplice merely watched Braeburn and Bullet Tyme with zero emotion on her face. The only move she made was to chamber a new round into her weapon. “It’s simple; I taught her how to do it. Eagle Eye here is quite the fast learner. But that does indeed leave the question: who in the world showed me how to do it? However, I am going to ask you a question instead, Braeburn…”

“Shut yer mouth, Sure Shot!” Bullet Tyme yelled, a surprising amount of desperation lacing his words. However, the bandit leader continued.

“Who do you think taught me how to do it?” asked Sure Shot, taking a quick glance toward Bullet Tyme.

It took a moment for Braeburn’s exhausted mind to contemplate what Sure Shot had just said, but when he did, the riflepony’s world fell around him. His eyes widened, instantly turning in the direction of his father. He searched desperately for something in his father’s face to say otherwise, but to his horror, all he found was anger and guilt. Bullet Tyme bared his gritted teeth, something breaking in his eyes. There wasn’t a way that was true. Bullet Tyme was Braeburn’s father; a brash but ultimately good pony.

“Pa…” he said quietly, his forehooves shaking. “You tell me what he just said was a lie… you tell me that right now…”

Bullet Tyme winced, slowly turning his gaze toward his son. “It’s not what ya’ think, Braeburn.”

“Judging by the look on his face, I’d say it’s exactly what he’s thinking,” Sure Shot interjected, an amused look on his face. “As much as I’ve enjoyed this little visit, I’d say it’s time for us to make our leave.”

“Yer not goin’ anywhere!” Braeburn bellowed, his emotions running wild as he fired off another shot at the bandit leader’s feet, only to be deflected by another bullet from the green mare’s rifle. His aggravation turned quickly into a blind fury, and the riflepony reloaded another crimson cartridge, taking aim and ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder. He didn’t know if his body would withstand another blast from the powerful Dragon’s Breath, but he didn’t care. Braeburn pulled the trigger, and fired another lance of white-hot flame as the reopened side plates allowed another jet of pressure to escape from both sides of the receiver. He expected the bandits to dodge the attack, but growled in anger as a flash of blue light came between the blast and its target. The inferno roared, spreading around a bright, translucent barrier of pale blue light. Sparks of red and azure flew in all directions from the impact, a wailing sound of magic energy forcing Braeburn’s ears back to block out as much as he could.

The riflepony growled in furious confusion, his mind reeling as he tried to figure out what had happened. As the inferno burned out, Braeburn spotted a white, opaque gem on the floor directly underneath the dying barrier. It emitted a few sparks of residual energy before the magical wall disappeared with a loud crack.

“Huh. For a moment I was doubting Sparky’s spell gems,” smirked Sure Shot. “I guess that traitor had one last gift to give us. I figured it would be a good idea to keep a little bit of his magic in case of something like this. Too bad we still have to kill him.”

Sure Shot then reached into his bag, withdrawing another gem. Unlike the first one, this new crystal shined with a bright azure, the same exact shade as the unicorn’s mane and aura color. “Unfortunately, Colt of the West, this is not the day where we shoot it out like you seem to want us to. My offer still stands, by the way.”

Before either Braeburn or his father could make a move, the bandit leader threw the pale green gem onto the ground between himself and Ahuitzotl. In another flash of light, the three of them were nowhere to be found.

“N-No…” Braeburn uttered under his breath. He sheathed his rifle and bolted toward the spot where Sure Shot had disappeared, throwing his eyes around in desperation to find them. Unfortunately, their presence was gone from the temple. The riflepony stomped a hoof to the floor in aggravation, seething through his gritted teeth. As his hoof made impact with the stone, his bruised shoulder screamed in agony, causing him to falter and almost collapse. “Darn it!”

“Braeburn, come on,” came his father’s voice, the sound of hooves slowly approaching him from behind. Braeburn whipped his head to his right, finding Bullet Tyme attempting to hold him up. The riflepony stepped aside reflexively, glaring at the older stallion. Bullet sighed through his nose. “Look, Ah made some mistakes in the past, and Ah owe you all the explanation in the world, but we’ll talk about it later.”

Braeburn just stared at his father, searching his face for any sort of answer. But just like before, all he found was guilt and sorrow. “How can Ah trust you?”

“After what ya’ just heard, Ah don’t blame ya’ fer not wantin’ to,” Bullet admitted, placing a careful hoof on his son’s uninjured shoulder. “But fer right now, just be content that we did what we came to do. Also… Ah reckon there’s somepony that wants to thank you for it.”

For a moment, Braeburn was confused, letting it show on his face with a quirk of his eyebrow. Bullet Tyme snorted, turning him around by the shoulder. Across the enormous room, standing in the threshold that the cyan unicorn had made was the pony that had occupied his mind for a year and seven months.

The mare stood aside Day Break, who smiled brightly at the look on her friend’s face. The first thing Braeburn saw were the pegasus’ bright, magenta eyes; the ones that he had always gazed into with a sense of wistful awe. Her monochromatic mane and tail had grown an inch or two from what he remembered, unkempt but still beautiful against her sandstone-colored coat. Shreds of her trademark olive green shirt still hung from her shoulders, a single length wrapped around her torso. Daring Do stared at him with wide, glazed eyes, her expression breathless.

In a fraction of a second, Braeburn’s mood shifted dramatically from furious to that of pure elation. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head, a wordless breath escaping his lips. His heart beat against his chest, his stomach fluttering with a rising sensation. From the other side of the room, the archaeologist stepped forward, building speed into a full gallop. Braeburn took a breath, breaking himself out of his stupor to do the same. It seemed like an eternity for them to reach each other, but when they did, the beige stallion threw his forelegs around Daring Do, holding her as tight as he could. He felt the pegasus wrap her hooves around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. Everything about her was just as he remembered, right down to her warm, caring embrace. He felt both of their shoulders convulse with overwhelming emotion, allowing a few tears to run down his cheek.

“Y-You came for me…” Daring choked, her raspy voice cracking under pressure. “You d-dummy… how could y-you put yourself in danger like th-that? You could’ve been k-killed, you moron!”

“O’ course Ah came,” Braeburn whispered back, placing a hoof to the back of her head. “There ain’t a thing in this world that would’ve stopped me from comin’ here…”

Instead of responding, Daring broke away from the embrace, holding his cheeks in her forehooves. Tears streaked her blushing, quivering face, reminding the stallion of her natural pulchritude.

"Ah’m so sorry Ah worried you,” Braeburn said softly, sniffing back another wave of tears.

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” she whispered. “I sh-should be… I should’ve come back a year ago, but I was scared…”

Braeburn gave her a warm smile, placing his own hoof on hers. “And what d’ya feel now?”

Daring sniffed, smiling back brightly. She gripped his face in her hooves, pulling him toward her. Braeburn’s heart soared as she pressed her lips to his in a heartfelt embrace. He felt his eyes flutter closed, holding her cheeks in his hooves. The world around them melted away, their troubles simply nonexistent in the midst of Daring’s warmth. Nothing mattered except for her warm, soft lips against his. After what felt like several minutes, the two slowly broke apart, their eyes meeting each other with a sense of fondness. The mare leaned her forehead against his, wrapping her forelegs around his neck once again.

For the first time in his adult life, Braeburn didn’t feel like half a pony. With Daring Do, the first true friend he had ever acquired, he felt whole. It was nothing short of overwhelming, having his heart beat the name of the pony he had wanted to be with for so long. Even if his life were seconds from ending, that one moment they shared would forever be the highlight of his life.

“That a good enough answer for you?” whispered Daring, choking back another flow of emotion.

Braeburn replied with another lingering kiss to her lips, hearing the sound of her wings ruffling in response. But before either of them could say another word, they were wrapped in a tight embrace from a third pony. Braeburn opened his eyes to find Day Break, embracing the two of them.

“Gah! Day Break, you’re hurting me!” Daring yelped, although to no avail. The bright yellow pegasus smiled brightly, squeezing the new couple with all her might. “W-Wait… are you crying?”

“N-No!” Day Break replied into her friend’s shoulder. “…Maybe. Shut up, I’m happy for you guys, darn it!”

Braeburn snickered, bringing up a hoof to hug her in return. “Thanks, Day Break, but yer kinda hurtin’ the both o’ us.”

“Oh! Okay, sorry,” the yellow mare replied, breaking away from them. She sniffed, wiping her ruby eyes with her forehooves.

From behind, Bullet Tyme approached his son, offering a hoof to help him up. If it weren’t for his sore shoulder, Braeburn would have stood up himself. But ultimately, the riflepony allowed himself to be assisted to his hooves, Day Break doing the same for Daring. Braeburn noticed that she had much more difficulty standing, which aroused an immediate concern in his mind.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly, taking a painful step forward. Daring winced at first, her forelegs quivering from the strain of standing.

“Her front legs were tied behind her back,” Day Break answered for her. “I’m guessing they’re sore in some places and numb in others.”

“I’m fine,” Daring retorted right before faltering in her stance. Braeburn shot forward, catching her with a foreleg.

“Yer wings work?” he asked, his question answered by the yellow mare once again. “If not, Ah’m carrying ya’ outta here.”

“Doesn’t look like it; they were tied pretty tight too.”

“Seriously, Day Break, I’m okay! I can walk!”

“Nope, you’re letting your coltfriend carry you,” Day Break smirked. Daring went to reply, but seemed to linger on her friend’s last word. Braeburn took the opportunity to dip under the mare, scooping her onto his back. She yelped in surprise, holding onto his neck for support. Luckily, Daring was light even for her small frame.

“Oof… that was a dirty trick,” Daring said, a facetious scowl on her face.

“Is that a complaint?” asked Day Break.

Braeburn could practically hear Daring’s eyes roll. But instead of another retort, she merely wrapped her forelegs around Braeburn’s neck, her face burying into his mane. “No… not at all.”

“Well this is lovely and all, but Ah’m already sick o’ this place,” said Bullet Tyme. He gave his son a small grin, ruffling his mane with a hoof.

“Bullet Tyme?” said Daring, turning her head to face the stallion. “I heard and saw everything; we all did. Please just tell me that we can trust you.”

“Yes. Yes ya’ can,” said Bullet, speaking as sincerely as he could. “Like Ah told my boy here; we’ll talk about it later. Ah know Ah have a lot to explain.”

“Good,” Daring sighed, relieved. She returned her face to the back of Braeburn’s neck, allowing herself to relax. “Now can we please get out of here?”

Braeburn nodded, turning back to the end of the room they came from. Leaning against a large chunk of stone was the cyan unicorn watching them approach with a small smile on his face. Daring looked up wearily from Braeburn’s back, grinning at the short stallion.

“You really did it… you took my advice,” she said softly. The unicorn slowly rose to his hooves, raising a forehoof bump Daring’s.

“Not just yours, but Braeburn’s as well,” he said, giving the beige stallion a nod, which was returned. “I figured that if you could help me, it would be better than submitting to Sure Shot’s rule. Thank you, all of you.”

“No, thank you,” said Braeburn, giving him a light shove to the shoulder. “You could have killed me and ended this entire thing, but ya’ couldn’t. That’s how Ah knew you were good on the inside.”

“Say…” Daring started, her voice exhausted. “I never did get to know your name. What is it?”

“Well, ponies have taken a liking to calling me Sparks.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Daring replied.

The unicorn tilted his head in what looked like a brief moment of bewilderment. He then smiled, as if he was honored to be asked such a question. “Well, as you could probably understand, my full name is Azure Spark.”

“Azure… I think I like that name,” said Day Break. “It seems to fit you a lot more than Sparks.”

“Okay, again, I appreciate all of you, but for the last time can we please get out of this place!” Daring exclaimed out of nowhere, nearly deafening Braeburn. The rest of them nodded silently, and walked at a brisk pace out of the prison.

Author's Notes:

Originally, Treasure in the West was supposed to be a single story, focused more on the romance aspect than the search for Cunning the Colt's tomb. But just as most things involving creativity, the idea blossomed into something more as time went on. During chapter four of Treasure in the West, I realized that I wanted to do a sequel. The breakout scene of this chapter was actually the first solid idea for Colt of the West, and was immediately saved as a plot point that I wanted to include. From there on out, the planning for this story started. Little did I know that it was going to be around twice the length of its prequel.

Twelve - Braeburn and Daring Do

Braeburn followed Day Break, Azure Spark and his father down the main hall of the temple at a slow pace. His left shoulder and foreleg burned, still sore from the might of the Dragon’s Breath rounds and their excessive recoil. Even with Daring’s slim build, it still pained him to bear her weight. However, he wasn’t about to let the injured mare walk on her own. It certainly helped that Day Break had offered to carry Thumper and the brass rifle, even if she looked to be uncomfortable with them strapped to her back.

Ultimately, it didn’t bother the beige stallion for even a second to carry Daring. Just to have her so close after so long was enough to make him ignore the pain. Since they left the prison, she had never once loosened her grip around his neck, nor did she remove her face from his long mane. Occasionally the stallion would feel a slight vibration coming from her stomach, signaling her evident malnourishment. The pegasus was a magnificent source of warmth in the cold underground tunnels, both physically and emotionally. Braeburn couldn’t find it in himself to wipe the contented smile from his face, nor the calm sense of mind despite the vast sea of fears and uncertainties plaguing the back of his thoughts. All he could think about was Daring and the kiss that they shared. He simply couldn’t believe that even after a year and seven months, the affection was still there. It was as if nothing had changed; as if no time had passed since the day Daring flew away from Sweet Apple Acres.

Nopony said a word as they approached the dimly-lit staircase leading to the surface. Whether it was due to fatigue or just a lack of anything to say, there was nothing but silence throughout the group as they ascended the stairs. Every step sent a pang of agony through Braeburn’s shoulder, each one more difficult than the last. But when he felt like his body was about to give in to exhaustion, Daring would give him an affectionate nuzzle or squeeze around his neck, instantly reigniting his drive to keep moving. After a moment or two, they were hit with a light breeze of cool early morning air. The moon was in the middle of its descent over the tree line above, while the other end of the sky had lightened a few shades from its previous dark blue. Braeburn’s ears were instantly reintroduced to the plethora of varying sounds of the rainforest. But just as he had felt with his sore shoulder, the mare of his dreams quelled his sense of insecurity with her warmth.

“Braeburn…” the mare whispered, her voice strained and shaking. The stallion slowed his pace, giving them a little more room from the rest of the group. He tilted his head, turning his right ear in the direction of her mouth. “I… Thank you. Thank you so much…”

Braeburn felt something in his soul break as he heard her words. She sounded nothing like the courageous mare he knew, but one that had undergone something truly terrifying. The stallion had dreadfully pictured what Sure Shot and Ahuitzotl must have done to her on his way to the island, but nothing scared Braeburn more than the desperation in her voice. All he wanted was to take the mare aside and hold her until she could breathe again; to let her know that everything was alright. But with her godfather anxiously waiting for them, the stallion settled for what he could get.

“Ah reckon you’d do the same thing,” he replied, rubbing his cheek against hers. She hummed a swoon in response, giving him a lingering peck on the temple.

“One thing, though,” she said.

“Hm?”

“Your hat still smells funny.”

All the stallion could do was smile at the comment, remembering a simpler time the two of them had shared. He was thankful to hear a bit of snark from the mare. Braeburn kept his distance from the rest of the group, more to pace himself than anything. Up ahead, he spotted Day Break and Azure in the middle of a quiet exchange. His curiosity made him watch the two for a moment. It was difficult to see in the moonlight, but they seemed to be talking about something interesting. While the unicorn spoke, Day Break looked to be wearing a small smile. It made Braeburn chuckle inwardly, for the mare was against trusting Azure only half an hour ago.

At the lead of the pack was Bullet Tyme, keeping his head forward and his pace brisk. Braeburn couldn’t help but sigh, his thoughts drifting back toward his father’s past. In the long run, the riflepony was torn between far too many things after saving Daring Do. Even in the elation over his mutual affection with the mare of his dreams, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat betrayed by the older stallion. Bullet Tyme, his father, had somehow been involved with the pony they were trying to thwart. How could his father have done such a thing? Was the bandit leader once a good pony, or did he simply deceive Bullet Tyme? Regardless, Braeburn could do nothing but trust his father and try to move on, but not before hearing everything about Bullet’s past.

“Oh, hey! Daring, look!” said Day Break. She extended her wings, throwing them down to fly over Azure Spark and toward the left side of the trail. Everypony came to a stop, watching her stick her head into a bush. Braeburn approached her, Daring propping herself up onto her elbows to get a better look. The yellow pegasus withdraw her face from the bush, something held between her teeth. It took a moment for Braeburn to identify the object in the shade of the trees, but the mare on his back seemed to immediately recognize it.

Daring sucked in a long gasp before launching herself from the stallion’s back, flying over to snatch her white pith hat from her friend’s grasp. Smiling brightly to herself, she placed the hat atop her head, completely disregarding the dirt it was spotted with. “Ohhh, there you are, little guy! I thought you were gone for sure! Did you miss me? I missed you-Ow!”

As expected, Daring’s right foreleg buckled underneath her. Day Break assisted her up and back onto Braeburn’s back as he snickered quietly to himself. “Yer really attached to that thing, aren’t ya’?”

“Pro-tip, Braeburn,” said Day Break, raising a hoof of warning. “Never make fun of the hat.”

“Ah wasn’t about to!” he replied.

“Gotta make sure,” the yellow mare said, turning to walk aside Azure again.

“She’s awfully protective of ya’,” Braeburn said casually under his breath, catching Daring’s attention.

“Oh? How do you figure that?”

“Just seems like it. S’not a bad thing; just somethin’ Ah noticed. One thing Ah wouldn’t mind knowin’ though. She seems like a really good friend o’ yers, so how come Ah never heard ya’ talk about her last year?”

“Well, there are reasons for that,” the mare replied wistfully, as if she was recalling a memory she was rather fond of. “When we met, you didn’t seem like you… well, had any friends to speak of, so I kind of made a point to never really speak of mine unless you asked. Normally I wouldn’t have put so much thought into such a thing, but you were just so nice and fun to talk to. I didn’t ever want to ruin the mood.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, you know,” he said reassuringly. “Ya’ didn’t have to do that.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have if I never saw that look on your face,” Daring replied, her tone taking a few steps down toward something a little sadder. “Remember when we were in my train car on the way to Dodge Junction, and I asked if you had anypony around that was close to you? I couldn’t stand seeing that expression on your face, so I never brought the subject up again.”

“Seems like a lot to spare the feelings of a pony ya’ didn’t really know,” said Braeburn, although not without a fair amount of appreciation in his voice.

“Well… I dunno. Maybe there was just something about you,” said Daring, nuzzling his cheek briefly. “You know, other than you being really cute.”

Braeburn already had a self-destructive remark loaded and ready to go, but it was immediately shot down by her comment. He felt an unfamiliar heat rise to his cheeks; a small, silly smile playing on his lips. “Ah, um…”

“What? Has nopony called you attractive before?” Daring mused.

“Um… Not especially,” he smiled, finding it difficult to string words together.

“Wait… are you being serious?” she almost exclaimed, sounding genuinely surprised. “Really? Brae, you are so good-looking it’s stupid. You’re seriously telling me that the mares in Appleloosa never tried to catch your eye?”

“Ah’ve always been on the farm. Never really had time for anything like that,” said Braeburn, finally able to speak properly again.

“Excuse me if I don’t believe a word of that,” the mare chuckled, wrapping her forelegs around his neck once again. “So, does that mean that… you’ve never had a marefriend?”

“Nope.”

“Coltfriend?”

“Once.”

“Wait, really?”

“No,” Braeburn laughed. “Why are ya’ so fixed on this?”

“It’s just a shock is all. That and it’s just… it’s kind of adorable,” Daring admitted, her last comment lowering in volume as she spoke.

Braeburn did his best not to snort. “Well, thank ya’ kindly… Ah think.”

“Well, either way, things are finally starting to look up,” said Daring, a sense of hope in her voice.

“Yeah, Sure Shot and Ahuitzotl got away and are free to do as they please. Sounds great to me too,” said Braeburn sarcastically, his own words pressing him back down into a brief moment of melancholy.

“Hey, you and your father came back for me, we got Azure on our side, the two of us are together, and I have my hat back. Yep, I think that for now, all is right in the world,” the mare replied before tapping Braeburn on the head with a hoof. “Yeah, things in the future look bleak, but right now we have those things to raise our heads and smile at. We’ve won more than we’ve lost, and that alone is enough to keep me looking up.”

Braeburn exhaled through his nose, turning his head to glance at his marefriend. Just as they always were when she had hope, Daring’s rose eyes were as bright as ever, inciting a sharp rise in his spirits. It seemed that no matter how dark the world around her became, the archaeologist would always find some reason to grin as if nothing were amiss. Whether it was bravery or sheer defiance, Braeburn had always found her smile to be truly awe-inspiring. He felt himself grinning right back at Daring, her expression almost contagious.

“Ah don’t think you’ll ever know how happy Ah am to have had you knock on my door that day,” he said quietly, his tone sincere. Daring’s smile became much softer, her eyes loving.

“And you’ll never know how happy I am to have had you save me that day in Dodge Junction,” she replied, giving him another kiss to his cheek.

“Ugh, finally!” came Day Break’s voice, laced with exhaustion and relief. Braeburn and Daring Do looked up to find the moon’s light shining over the large clearing at the end of the path, the airship landed perfectly in the center. The riflepony had never seen the craft completely on the ground before and was momentarily confused to see the wooden cabin suspended a couple of meters in the air. As his eyes focused, he found the airship to be standing on four straight metal poles, protruding from opened compartments on the bottom of the cabin. Each one of the thin shafts flared outward toward the bottom like a cone, keeping the ship from tipping over upon landing.

Toward the rear of the cabin, the entrance dock was deployed. Braeburn spotted Artemis laying down on the ramp, looking up at the stars with a cigarette between his lips, its smoke drifting lazily toward the sky. When he didn’t seem to notice the five of them down the trail, Bullet Tyme found it appropriate to announce their presence.

“Delivery fer one cancer stick-suckin’ earth pony!” he called out with a hoof next to his mouth.

Daring’s head shot up from Braeburn’s mane, staring over the heads of the group to find her godfather, bolting up to his haunches and instantly spitting the cigarette from his mouth. He stood to his hooves, his eyes widening when they fell on his goddaughter. Braeburn continued forward, trotting as quickly as he could to close the gap between them. Thankfully, Artemis met him halfway, galloping around to the stallion’s side to throw his forelegs around Daring, who returned the favor with glee.

“Oh thank Celestia you’re okay,” he sighed, hugging the mare as tight as he could. “I was so worried; I didn’t even know if you were alive in there!”

“I missed you too, Arty,” Daring replied, his voice strained from her godfather’s hold.

Finally letting her go, Artemis got back to his hooves, looking at her position atop of Braeburn. “The guy saves you and now he’s your transport service too? Poor fella.”

“Well, uh… it’s kind of difficult to walk or fly right now,” she admitted, settling back down on Braeburn’s back. “And what about you? Why in Equestria are you smoking?! How many times do I have to preach how bad that is for you?”

“Ah’ll tell ya’ one thing,” Bullet started, walking between them and onto the ramp of the airship. “In the position you’ve been in tonight, Artemis, Ah don’t blame ya’ one bit. Now come on, Ah reckon we’ve all had enough excitement fer one night.”

“Alright, fine,” Daring sighed, letting the matter go. Artemis, however, seemed to have a new topic to bring up. He tilted his head toward the back of the group, looking around Braeburn to spot their new ally. The gray pony’s relieved demeanor shifted on the spot at the sight of Azure. He slowly approached him, looking the unicorn over with a calculating expression. Everypony else watched Artemis survey the newcomer as if he were a stray dog brought into a new home. Azure merely followed the earth pony’s gaze, his yellow eyes unable to hide his trepidation.

“Okay, I’ll butt in here and introduce you two,” said Day Break, who had been standing aside the unicorn. “Azure, this is Daring’s godfather, Artemis. Arty, this is Azure Spark. He helped us save Daring.”

“Did he?” Artemis asked suspiciously. “Tell me, Spark: do you work for Sure Shot or Ahuitzotl?”

“N-Neither, sir,” said Azure, striving to display his manners. “Admittedly, I did work for Sure Shot, but not on my own accord.”

“I’m not hearing anything that’ll get you on my ship,” the earth stallion replied curtly.

Bullet interjected Azure’s response, still standing halfway up the ramp. “There’s a lot to explain, Artemis, Ah know. If Ah were in yer position, Ah’d be askin’ the same questions. The good thing is that you can trust this one.”

“And how do I know that?” Artemis replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the unicorn.

This time, it was Day Break’s turn to defend their new ally. “Because he could have killed Braeburn, and your goddaughter would be dead right now,” she said flatly. “He had the chance, but he didn’t do it. Instead, Azure worked with us and we were able to save her and get out of there alive. He openly betrayed Sure Shot just to do the right thing.”

As the yellow mare spoke with such a serious tone, Braeburn and Daring merely watched with a slight sense of bewilderment.

“I was actually gonna say all that,” Daring said under her breath into Braeburn’s ear.

“Didn’t take long fer those two to get friendly, huh?” the riflepony whispered back out of the corner of his mouth.

Azure visibly recoiled at Day Break’s words, glancing awkwardly between her and Artemis. The gray stallion’s expression seemed to soften a bit, but the suspicion never left his eyes.

“Look, sir, I understand your hesitation to trust somepony like me, but I would be lying if I denied anything Day Break just said,” said Azure, gathering his courage. “However, I won’t force myself on your ship.”

“My ship,” corrected Daring simply.

“Your godfather is the captain of your ship?”

“What? Yes, just keep going! You were doing so good!”

“But you were the one who interrupted me-”

“Okay, alright, enough already,” Artemis spoke, holding up a hoof to silence the two of them. “Fine, you can join us on our way back to Equestria. Just be aware that I will be keeping my eye on you.”

Azure sighed with relief, a small smile on his face. “Understood.”

Daring didn’t let a moment pass before groaning weakly atop Braeburn’s back, pushing her torso up with her forelegs. “Okay, for real this time. Does anypony else have anything to say? Can we get out of here now?!”

There was a sickening crack, and Daring yelped before falling back down atop Braeburn. Everypony winced, nodding and moving quickly up the ramp of the airship. Due to the dark mare’s haste, it didn’t take long for the six of them to pile into the cabin. Unfortunately, none of them thought of just how tightly-packed they would be into the small room. Braeburn was forced to weave through the cluster of ponies to approach the closer bed. Daring braced herself to be gently lowered onto the cot, being assisted to her haunches with a push of Braeburn’s head. She smiled warmly in response, her eyes staring fondly into his own for the briefest of moments.

Braeburn gave her a quick grin before tearing his gaze away from her adorable look of affection. Everypony else seemed to take a few moments to position themselves comfortably in the confinement. Azure, being the odd pony out, merely stood awkwardly by the closed bay door. Bullet Tyme and Day Break sat across from each other at the table, while Artemis sat in his chair to prepare the aircraft for takeoff in the other room. Braeburn noticed that his weapons had been placed by the door, still in their respective scabbards along with his father’s Marechester.

“Azure, are you gonna stand there all morning or sit down and relax?” asked Day Break, casually gesturing to the seat next to her. “I’m willing to bet you’re exhausted after all that.”

“Well, yes, I am fairly tired,” the unicorn admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He slowly walked over to the couch and sat aside the pegasus, settling himself far back into the cushions with a sigh of comfort.

“Okay, now this is just plain old unsettling,” whispered Daring, leaning her head toward Braeburn. “I’ve never seen Day Break warm up to anypony so fast, let alone one that worked for a criminal.”

“Maybe she’s just tired. We’re all tired,” the stallion replied quietly. “Ah reckon she’s just grateful fer what he did. Nothin’ to get yer tail in a twist about.”

However, Daring seemed unconvinced. “I dunno… it kind of bothers me. It’s just so unlike her.”

“We have plenty o’ sayin’s in the Apple Family,” the riflepony said, giving her a reassuring look. “And one o’ the most important ones we have is ‘leave well enough alone.’ Trust me; S’better than her lookin’ at him like a criminal. We can’t afford to have any distrust in our ranks if we’re gonna stop Sure Shot.”

Daring made a noise of uncertainty, but ultimately ceased verbalizing her worries. Instead, she closed her eyes and gave him a small smile. “You always were wiser than you gave yourself credit for.”

“Whatever ya’ say, beautiful,” Braeburn grinned, giving her a sleepy gaze. His comment took the pegasus off-guard. She flinched slightly at the word, her tired eyes widening slightly. A bright pink washed over her cheeks, her gaze dropping down to her own forehooves as she smirked bashfully.

“You know… you’re the only one that I’ve ever liked calling me that…” she whispered, the upturned corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly.

As Artemis started the turbines, there was a silence that everypony seemed grateful for, especially Braeburn. For the first time in what seemed like months, Braeburn felt at ease. There he was, safe in the warm cabin of the airship, with his new allies and no immediate danger lurking in the shadows. Here, he could finally breathe, and not dwell on the horrid actions Sure Shot had forced him to take. To his astonishment and utter relief, Daring hadn’t said a single word about the lives he took, nor did she seem to look upon him any less. He was beyond grateful, but a small part of him still refused to believe that it justified what he had done. His infatuation seemed to negate his melancholy, if only for the time being. In the long run, not much mattered to the stallion, for a week ago he would have given anything to be with Daring Do. Now that he had her, it was nothing less than overwhelming to see that his dreams had become reality.

Soon the engines roared to life, and the aircraft gently lifted from the ground. The cabin swayed momentarily, almost instantly turning the limited contents of Braeburn’s stomach. He bit down on his lip with his eyes screwed shut, waiting impatiently for the slight turbulence to cease. As the craft cleared the tree line, the erratic movements came to a stop, and eventually Artemis was able to fix the controls in place and enter the main room with the rest of them. To everypony’s relief, he came bearing a cardboard box full of food, balancing it on his back before setting it down on the coffee table. Artemis and Bullet Tyme both took a sandwich and a bottle of water, while Day Break grabbed an apple for herself and a couple for Azure Spark, who looked uneasy about taking food from them. The gray stallion then turned to Braeburn and Daring, gesturing to the box. “What’ll it be, you two?”

“As much as you wanna give me,” Daring grinned. Her godfather smirked in response, tossing her two sandwiches in plastic bags and a bottle of water.

“And you, Brae-Brae?”

“What d’ya think?” Braeburn replied sarcastically, nodding in appreciation as he was thrown a trio of red delicious apples. The stallion sat up properly on the floor and practically inhaled the first sweet fruit. His stomach would have wept with gratitude if it could. He was shocked that he had gone so far without any source of sustenance, let alone the near impossibility of his mind still being intact. Braeburn had guessed that somehow, his goal had driven him all by itself, without any form of assistance. He looked back up to Daring from his spot on the floor next to her bed, smiling softly at the sight of her eating with fervor. She ate without any regard for manners, like a foal at her high chair.

Once again, nothing was said for a few moments as they ate, and everypony seemed to welcome it at first. But after twenty minutes, the silence became forced and uncomfortable. Even Daring Do looked to be apprehensive to say the first word. They all knew why everypony was quiet, save for Artemis. However, he didn’t seem to want to ask any questions. Occasionally he would cast a glance around the room, searching for anything that would give him a clue. Just when it looked like he had enough, the last pony Braeburn expected to speak first broke the silence.

“I apologize, but where exactly are we going?” asked Azure Spark, looking between Artemis and Daring Do. The gray stallion looked over from his place on the couch next to Bullet Tyme toward his goddaughter, along with everypony else.

“That’s a good question, actually,” he said. “I have the autopilot set toward Equestria, but I’ll need a destination by tomorrow at the latest. We’re low on fuel, not to mention we’re pushing the weight limit with six ponies in here. So I’m hoping you at least have a clue of where we’re going.”

Daring cleared her throat, rubbing her forehead with a hoof. “Yeah, I actually know exactly where we’re going,” she said, looking back up to the rest of the room. “Art, can we get to Ponyville with what we’ve got left?”

Artemis blinked, sucking a sharp breath of air through his teeth as he folded his forelegs. “That’s… pushing it, to be honest. But I think we should be able to do it. You know, risking a crash landing if we run out of fuel before we get there, of course. Can I ask why Ponyville, of all places?”

“Because I hid my copy of Cunning’s journal in the Everfree Forest,” Daring answered. “And I need to get a hold of it if I want to finish this puzzle.”

“Alright, let’s put the brakes on this fer a moment,” said Bullet Tyme, leaning forward to peak around Artemis and look at Daring. “What exactly is this puzzle yer talkin’ ‘bout? What’s in that book that’s so darned valuable?”

Daring bit her lip, looking down to the blankets she sat upon. In her hesitation, Braeburn searched her unfocused eyes to guess what was on her mind. They were tired, as was to be expected. However, the dark as night circles under her eyes were unnoticeable compared to the look they were expressing. The mare looked torn, as if answering the question wasn’t such a good idea. Braeburn sighed, turning to everypony else in the room.

“Alright, look; we all have a lot o’ questions, s’pecially after what we all just went through. But it’s lookin’ ‘round three in the mornin’, and Ah reckon we all need our sleep before we can take on any more stress. It’ll be quite a while before we get to Ponyville, so we can get everything outta the way tomorrow. Fer now, let’s just sleep so we can all have a clear mind.”

Thankfully, it took no amount of convincing for everypony to almost instantly agree with Braeburn’s proposal. Day Break flew over to her bed next to Daring’s, while Bullet Tyme and Azure Spark took to the couches on either side of the coffee table. Artemis retired to the cockpit, closing the door behind him to pilot the aircraft.

“Oh, Braeburn,” said the unicorn suddenly, sitting back up. “Did you want the couch? I can sleep on the floor if you want.”

Braeburn cocked an eyebrow. “Ah appreciate yer willingness to be nice, but Ah need ya’ to get yer strength and yer magic back up. No tellin’ when we might need yer help.”

“Are you su-”

“Ah’m a farmer, Azure. Ah’ve slept on worse,” the beige earth pony replied.

Azure nodded in thanks before curling himself into a ball atop his couch, while Bullet Tyme seemed content to stretch out with his hindlegs crossed and his forehooves behind his head. He covered his face with his black Stetson, keeping the moonlight shining through the windows out of his eyes.

The beige stallion let out a long sigh as he lay down on the floor on his front, resting his chin upon the mattress. Daring chuckled quietly, removing his Stetson and setting it aside. She then began the affectionate task of running a tender hoof through his mane. It was almost as if she were petting him like a dog, but Braeburn certainly didn’t feel like that. Her touch was warm, caring and lovingly slow. The stallion smiled in appreciation against the soft blankets of her makeshift bed, his eyelids drooping low as his fatigue started to take its toll. The mare lay down on her front as well, her face inches away from his. He didn’t know long they stared at each other before the stallion could no longer stay awake.

Through the windows of the cabin, the sun was starting to rise. Across the deep blue ocean, a bright orange bump protruded from the horizon line, casting its light over the vast expanse of water. A pair of thin, wispy clouds veiled the sun’s rays enough for Bullet Tyme to safely gaze into the vista. Around him, four ponies slept peacefully, while he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. He knew that he should have been asleep hours ago, but it seemed like a virtue he simply couldn’t grasp. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know why, for he knew exactly what the issue was. In the end, the stallion knew all too well that he wasn’t going to achieve any sort of resting state until his worries had ceased.

Bullet Tyme sighed quietly as he replaced the black Stetson to his head. He slid off the couch and approached the door on the front end of the cabin, giving it a couple of knocks before opening it. Inside the cockpit, Artemis was sitting up straight in the chair on the left, his forelegs crossed as he gazed over the orange-tinged ocean. Bullet walked between the chairs, taking the seat on the right.

“I’ll say it again, Bullet,” grinned Artemis. “It’s still going to be a while.”

“Not why Ah’m here,” he replied flatly, unconsciously mimicking the gray pony’s sitting position, his forelegs crossed as well.

"Well you’re not here because you can’t sleep,” said Artemis, making Bullet twitch an eyebrow.

“Ah can’t think o’ any other reason, partner,” the riflepony replied with the slightest hint of retaliation.

“Not consciously, anyway,” the pilot said, flashing him a smug grin. Bullet only gave him an inquisitive look in response. “You know, Bullet Tyme, when I first met you, I admit that I wasn’t in the best of places. The only pony I can rightfully call family was in the middle of the jungle by herself with a demi-god that wanted her dead, so you can only imagine what every last one of my thoughts was focused on. Because of which, I wasn’t able to gauge you very well upon introduction. All I saw was a brazen, hard-flanked farmer with an affinity for rifles. No offense, of course.”

“None taken.”

“But now that we have Daring back, I’m able to get a more accurate read on you,” Artemis concluded.

“Now why would ya’ want that?” Bullet asked. “Ah’m only here to make sure my boy doesn’t get himself killed, nothin’ more. Ah shouldn’t hold no more importance than any other soldier in all o’ this.”

“You’re on this ship, so you are by default,” the gray stallion countered. “Besides, something tells me that there’s a lot more to you than your outward appearance.”

“Ponies don’t need to know no more than that. Wouldn’t do nopony no good otherwise,” Bullet replied dryly, stretching his body to cross his hindhooves on the slanted wooden dashboard.

“I can understand that,” Artemis nodded. “So that brings us back to why you’re in here. You’re worried, aren’t you?”

“’Course Ah’m worried; we’re all worried.”

“Not about Sure Shot,” the gray pony said, slightly adjusting the wheel to steer the ship to the left. “You, Braeburn and Day Break went into that place with one look in your eyes, but came out with something completely different about you. The three of you got Daring back in one piece, without so much as a single scratch. So what’s going on? Did something happen down there?”

Bullet Tyme grunted quietly, pausing for a moment or two. He suspected that it may have been his lack of sleep, but the stallion briefly considered telling the pilot. As soon as the thought arose, however, the riflepony immediately shook it from his head. “A lotta things happened down there. We won the fight, and like ya’ said, without a scratch.”

“Sounds like somepony has a secret,” Artemis mused.

“Sounds like somepony’s pushin’ his luck in this here conversation,” Bullet scoffed.

“Heh, perhaps,” the gray stallion admitted with a nod. “Maybe I am being a tad intrusive.”

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. To Bullet Tyme, the silence was comforting. His mind wandered over the events that had taken place in the ruins while he watched the sun rise out of the corner of his eye. In his peripheral vision, he also spotted Artemis leaning back in his captain’s chair as he rested his eyes. For whatever reason, he wore the most subtle of grins, as if the expression had been plastered on the end of his muzzle. His short black tail swept lazily from side to side every now and then, hanging from the edge of his seat. Bullet wondered what exactly had him so content in such a time of uncertainty, but never put too much thought into it. Instead, Bullet merely returned his gaze to the rising orb of orange light, wincing once it cleared its veil of clouds.

The tan earth pony sighed, realizing that one of them would have to speak eventually. “Ya’ seemed a mite happy to find out ‘bout Daring and Braeburn. Usually it’s different with the mare’s Pa.”

“Well, I’m not exactly her ‘Pa,’ am I?” Artemis smirked.

“No, but Ah reckon ya’ might have the same kind o’ sour feelin’s toward the idea,” said Bullet.

“Are you kidding me? I’m relieved,” the pilot chuckled, finally opening his eyes to look at the other pony again. “Daring has been miserable since the day we left Ponyville. It was truly rare to see a smile on her face for the past year and a half. Problem with her is that she’s a stubborn mare. She’d never just let herself be talked to about the matter until it was too much to bear. It definitely got a little better once she got back in touch with Day Break, but being away from Braeburn for so long was still killing her.”

“How come she didn’t just come back to Appleloosa earlier then?” asked Bullet.

“Again, because she’s stubborn,” Artemis replied. “Actually, the plan was to go to Appleloosa once this business with Ahuitzotl’s prison was done. But of course, it didn’t go exactly as planned.”

“S’funny ya’ mention all o’ that. Dealin’ with Braeburn was pretty much the same,” Bullet Tyme said. “If he wasn’t mopin’ locked up inside his house, he was mopin’ ‘round workin’ on the farm.”

“Reassuring words can only go so far.”

“Agreed.”

“But of course, we wouldn’t be a father and a godfather if we weren’t there for them, right?”

“Right,” Bullet said, cracking a slightly amused grin.

“But… as happy as they look together, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s still something wrong with them,” Artemis mentioned, looking to Bullet Tyme inquisitively.

“Ah reckon Ah know what ya’ mean.”

“Oh?”

“Those two both left somethin’ behind in that temple; things that a pony can’t get back,” Bullet started, shifting the mood of the room. “Braeburn’s got the blood of a riflepony in him, so it was no surprise what he could do once Ah put Thumper in his hooves. Boy was a natural from the start. He’s always been a good stallion; one that nopony would look at twice out o’ suspicion, but a few hours ago he did somethin’ that would change anypony forever. He took a life, and then three more after that in a matter o’ ten minutes. He knows that he had to do it, but Ah’m sure it’s gonna stick with him fer the rest o’ his life.”

“I would imagine so,” Artemis replied in almost a whisper, slowly shaking his head. “While it’s necessary in such a circumstance, I wouldn’t want to be in Braeburn’s place.”

“He’ll push past it, but it’s gonna be a long road.”

“I think I’ve seen the same thing in Daring,” Artemis said, his tone becoming more grave. “I don’t even want to think of what she went through in there, especially with those bruises and her foreleg the way it is.”

“Ah’ll say one thing: thank Celestia they have each other,” Bullet grinned. “’Cause Ah ain’t good at playin’ therapist.”

Both stallions shared a laugh, and began a more casual conversation as the dawn of a new day began.