It has been a quite exciting few days, I must say. So much has happened since the day I recovered. Perhaps I should break my entries into pieces to make them less burdening to read in the future. I’ll begin with the morning I departed from Appleloosa.

I awoke well before sunrise to find Mr. 33 and Mr. 111 packing up some items into satchels, assumedly to bring on our trip. Clothes, blankets, and snacks were among some of the items the pre-emptive Black Mages were packing. I was thoroughly surprised by their initiative and excitement for this potentially dangerous expedition to the north.

Mr. 33 noticed me stirring in my bed. He packed in one last blanket to his bag and cheered, “There’s some breakfast being prepared downstairs to see us off! The caravan’s ready to leave whenever you are!” Like a machine, he immediately resumed packing.

I groaned, “These Equestrians are on top of their schedules, aren’t they? They’re much more efficient than the laziness of Gaians.” I stretched and yawned, feeling completely rejuvenated from my extensive nap.

Mr. 111 sighed, “Do you think we need any of Granny Smith’s cider?” He placed one hand over his would-be face and held the bottle toward me with the other.

I thought for a few moments how to answer the question. I nodded and scoffed, “Its restorative effects will be imperative if we’ll be facing hostile opposition.”

“Okay…” He sounded slightly disappointed, perhaps because of the cider’s disgusting scent. While it was tasty and had healing properties, it still smelled like decaying rotten apples.

Mr. 33 chuckled, “This is gonna be fun, Kuja! We’re gonna meet new ponies!”

“Yes, and we’ll also be walking for three days straight. We may stop to rest if absolutely necessary.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to get my blood pumping. I needed to be wide awake if I hoped to plan our route carefully. I had no intention of following the tracks the entire way, only when required.

After a few moments of silence, a rapid knocking rang out on the door. Without waiting for a response, the source of the noise threw the door open and rushed in. He slammed it shut behind him, as if he were being chased by something vicious. It was the mysterious stallion from the prior evening. His mane was in a mess, with his hat off-center on his head. He looked really shaken by something.

“Can I help you?” I asked bluntly, annoyance flooding my tone.

He took a few deep breaths and explained, “Look fella, them brutes are some tough punks. You sure ya wanna do this?” He looked as if he were about to have a heart attack.

“Of course I am. What seems to be the problem?” Something about the stallion screamed ‘suspicious’ to me, but I tried to swallow that superficial paranoia.

He shook his head and sighed, “I just think they’re a little bit tougher than ya can handle, that’s all.” He ran a hoof through his mane, attempting to style it.

I’m no fool. I can see when something obvious is in my face. His demeanor irked me to the point of snapping, “What are you planning on doing?”

He looked at me with a confused expression at first, then scoffed, “I’m goin with ya, fella. If some newcomer’s gonna risk his hide to solve our problems, he ain’t taking all the credit!”

I couldn’t even reply to his statement. Despite having just informed me of the dangers, he wanted to travel with us. That alone is idiotic enough. However, he was willing to risk the danger for some ignorant hometown pride. I had no words at the time to explain to him how foolish he was truly being. So instead I simply laughed.

Not picking up on his ignorance, Mr. 33 cheered, “It’ll be nice to have you with us Mr. Brawny!” Ah, a name was finally matched with the face. Suddenly, this stranger seemed even more suspicious.

I chuckled, “Yes, it will be a pleasure to have a local journey with us. I suppose you should begin your packing. We’ll be leaving just as soon as I’ve finished preparing my belongings.” I could tell he was an idiot, and knew then that his chances of survival were close to nonexistent. The likelihood of his death made me disgustingly happy at the time.

This stallion, Brawny, scoffed, “Y’all best not leave without me, y’hear?” He left the room just as quickly as he’d entered, slamming the door behind him.

Mr. 111 groaned, “I don’t trust him, Kuja.”

My jaw dropped at the Black Mage’s careful judgment. I nodded and sighed, “Nor do I, but I find it rude to refuse company on such a long trip. Besides, if he tries anything funny, we can simply ‘magic’ him out of our hair.” I raised a single hand into the air, imitating the motions used to cast my Flare spell.

I heard a light chuckle escape the consenting mage. His companion, however, let out a frightened gasp. He said, “You can’t be serious, Kuja! Mr. Brawny would never do anything to deserve that!”

“You are foolish to trust him, 33. Can’t you sense that curious aura around him? The Mist is different when he’s around.” I clenched my fist and dropped my arm swiftly, causing him to flinch. Mr. 111 nodded approvingly toward me.

I stretched my arm casually and headed toward the door. The mages returned to their packing while I proceeded downstairs to enjoy the breakfast Mr. 33 had spoken of earlier. The tavern was surprisingly empty, aside from the bartender and the chef. As I consumed the meal, the mages joined me and downed their own dishes. Without saying a word, we finished eating and left the tavern.

A large crowd of ponies had gathered by the train station, where a caravan of two bulls and a wagon was waiting for us. As we approached, the crowd went wild. At the time, I couldn’t understand exactly why we were honored so much before even attempting the journey. However, now that everything is said and done, their reactions were fairly appropriate.

Waiting by the wagon were Brawny and Braeburn, the latter of whom baring a wide grin of confidence. The former, unsurprisingly, had a look of worry and anger on his features. The closer we got, the deeper his frown fell. It was actually quite amusing.

The sheriff cheered, “Buncha luck to ya, partners! Try not to rough em up too bad!”

Brawny groaned, “Let’s get this dog-and-pony show on the road already.”

I had to use all of my willpower to keep from bursting into arrogant laughter at the stallion’s idiotic remark. I could already see how this trip would play out on his part, and I was enjoying the sight. Until he was disposed of due to his pride, I would need to watch my back in case of shameful ambush. However, that would only be a mild discomfort, like a fly buzzing by your ear.

I extended a hand toward the idiot and chuckled, “Impatience may cause even the wisest of creatures to face their ultimate downfall. Keep this in mind while we’re on the road, Brawny.” He accepted my handshake with flooding remorse. Every ounce of irritation he experienced only seemed to make me feel better.

“I’ll try to remember it. Now, we ready to set out?” He released my hand and turned toward the train tracks. He looked off in the distance, where we would be travelling, and let out a nervous sigh.

Mr. 111 groaned, “We need to depart soon, Kuja. We need to get to Ponyville as quick as possible, right?”

“Correct.” I said bluntly. “Very well then, let us leave.”

Braeburn took off his hat and placed it firmly on his chest. He adopted a serious expression and hailed, “Y’all take care, Mr. Kuja. Try to come back in one piece, would ya?” The rest of the crowd imitated the gesture—a sign of respect for the risk we were taking.

I still couldn’t understand why such a touching ‘ceremony’ was being performed for the departure of a simple caravan. Even Brawny seemed to be taken by surprise. I simply shrugged my shoulders and scoffed, “I assure you you’ve nothing to worry about. I…We shall return in as perfect health as we are leaving.”

The Black Mages nodded in agreement. With that, the crowd started to disperse from the station. We said our farewells, I took the reins of the cattle in hand, and we were off into the desert bound northward. As we distanced ourselves from Appleloosa, a strange sense of foreboding started to form in the back of my mind. I cast it off as my usual paranoia, but I see now that that was a bad idea.

We travelled along the track for hours, until the sun began to set. Nothing of interest happened while we were on the trail, unless you count a sandstorm that knocked Mr. 33 to the ground and left Brawny cursing his luck. Once the sun had finally gone down, I decided it best to set up camp and sleep.

I stayed awake all night, watching for hostile creatures…and monitoring our stallion companion. Something about seeing him unconscious started an angry flame in my heart.

I should have killed him then and there, but I didn’t...