The boat was pulling around the old aquarium, heading towards the edge of the island. There was a single portion of pier stretching out from the island, the pier half underwater. Tsoy brought the boat to the side of the wooden pier, slowing the boat’s speed as the sections of dock started to poke out of water in an attempt to tear a hole in the hull.

The fog was still hanging over the island, the aquarium now just a dim shadow in the background as the rest of the island took the opportunity to appear under the clouds. Graphite was looking over the side of the boat, staring at what was suppose to be the city’s park. Now, the park looked more like a parking lot, every inch of foliage dead and burnt away to the point of leaving only dirt and a layer of grey ash over it. The trees were no different, burnt black and most of its branches blown away by the force of the bomb. The rest was shrouded by the fog; Graphite was almost thankful for the fog now - it being kind enough to hide away the rest of the depressing landscape.

The boat came to a slow stop, Tsoy turned away from the wheel to watch Graphite before he hopped out of the boat, “This is as far as I can get you with out being spotted, so you’ll have to hoof it from here.”

“Thanks for ride, Tsoy,” Graphite hailed with a nod.

“Wait-” Tsoy halted as Graphite was ready to jump out, “Here, take this - you’re a part of the family now,” Tsoy grabbed the sub machine gun which had been sitting by the steering wheel and tossed it to Graphite.

Graphite caught the gun before it fell into the water with his telekinesis spell. Taking a quick peek at it before looking back up at Tsoy.

Graphite barely made the jump to the pier, catching himself before he could slip off between the boat and the dock. He stepped unto the creaking boards of the pier, turning to Tsoy just before he moved on, “Thank you again, Tsoy.”

Tsoy grasped the wheels tight once more, “Keep yourself safe, Graphite,” He left off with before turning the boat around and floating off.

Graphite watched him go, watching him until he disappeared in the fog and only the gentle hum of the boat’s engines echoed across the beating waters. Graphite turned about, facing the start of the pier while stuffing his new weapon into his bag - making his way down to the island.

The boards on the dock creaked and squealed with every step Graphite made, causing him to watch his movements with great concern. He watched as the boards bent and shifted under his weight before he noticed his hooves touching solid ground only moments later. Graphite brought his head from the ground to find himself staring at the plain of dead grasses and ash covered street. Something told him to go north, seeing as he came in from the south end of the island. He looked out to the north, spotting something wavering in the fog. It looked like a phantom, or a ghost that was telling him to come near. Graphite followed, squinting and leaning his head in as he tried to make sense of what he was actually staring at.

He came up to the figure that was waving in the breeze, finding it was only a loose patch of tent that was caught in the city’s normal wind. He stepped around to the front of the tan coloured tent, spotting that the tent was one in a group of makeshift shelters that were lining the street down until the fog ate them up in its vast mists. Graphite poked his head in the first tent he found, spotting a few overturned and empty cots; a set of tables near the back of the tent; and assorted collections of trash and junk.

He stepped inside, sorting through the heaps of junk for anything of use. A few crushed cans, some crumpled paper, and a round to a gun he didn’t have. He filed through the trash until he reach the back of the tent; at which point, he turned over to the other end of the tent - where another figure was kneeling over itself, appearing to be sniffing at the ground. Graphite stepped over to it slowly, only noticing at second glance that its skin was dry and flaky, at the parts where it wasn’t missing.

Graphite wanted to shoot, but he remembered Ligature and realized it was a ghoul. She looked just like that, yet she was one of the nicest ponies which Graphite had met in his journey. He decided to head over to the lone figure; after all, he might be able to help the pony.

“Hello? Um, are you missing something?” Graphite said as he was approaching the lone figure.

The pony outside looked up and turned it’s head to Graphite, perking it’s ears up. The pony looked similar to Ligature, though there was something odd about it’s eyes. They were bleak, grey, and expressionless.

“Do you-” Graphite tried to talk to the mysterious pony again, but was interrupted by a loud hiss which it made. The pony suddenly turned to him and charged him, knocking him over.

Graphite hit the floor with the marauding pony on top of him as it tried to gnaw at his face. Graphite kept it at bay with the brunt of his arm, trying to push it off as it gnarled and slobbered all over Graphite. Graphite reared his head back, shutting his eyes to stop the saliva from seeping into his eyes while he used his magic to grab the first gun he could reach - his rifle around his shoulder.

Graphite rolled himself over, pinning the ghoul under him. The creature reached up and clawed at Graphite’s shirt, only tearing deep enough to cut the shirt and the skin. Graphite beat it back with the butt of the gun, getting it to stop rattling its head long enough to stuff the gun’s barrel in his head and fire off a round point-blank.

The thing was dead after its brains left through a hole in its head. Graphite stepped up from the ghoul, batting off bits of fur and skin. Graphite left the barren tent, stepping up to the road between the row of tents. Graphite was horrified to see more mysterious beings sprinting out of the fog, rushing at him with no direction and no stability. This bonus swarm of monsters was probably brought about by the loud bang Graphite’s rifle was prone to make.

Graphite brought his rifle up at the ready, preparing for the onslaught that was sure to come just as the first ghoul leaped towards him. All he needed was one good shot to the head, or a easy hit right through their heart - or perhaps, a spray of bullets into their entire body. Graphite slung his rifle back over his shoulder, listening for the clings of his backpack clamps opening and the sound of metal bumping against each other as he pulled out the shortened shotgun that he had taken off one of the mercenaries bodies.

The ghouls came closer, yelping and snarling their teeth as they tripped and crawled along the road to get to Graphite. Graphite waited for them patiently with his gun floating just to his right in his telekinesis. The gun was loaded, all he needed to do was unload the shells into the soft bodies of these evil beasts. The ghouls came close enough for Graphite to see the wrinkles of their skin clearly over the fog’s hazy shroud. He brought up his shotgun, standing with his hooves planted firmly on the ground as he let out the first wave of lead.

The brute closest to Graphite was blown back by the force of the pellets pounding his body. It hit the ground, making way for the rest of the group to merge in on Graphite. He pumped the shotgun, firing off the next burst into two ghouls that were just close enough together to both be hit by the pellets. The one ahead had it’s arm torn from it’s body, killing it shortly after it and its arm fell to the ground. The one behind was still coming, but was quickly shot down by the next shot.

One more coming against him, dragging with it a piece of tent that got caught around its leg. Graphite didn’t waste his energy to run after it, waiting again for it the ghoul to come to him. He pumped his shotgun; one more shell was sitting in the chamber - one more shell was all Graphite was going to need. The ghoul came in faster when it came into range of Graphite. It took a quick swipe that missed, losing his head after Graphite marked a quick blow with the last round.

The last body landed on the ground without even a twitch to show life. Graphite ejected the empty shell from the stubby shotgun before he shoved it back into his bag. Graphite took a look at the game he had brought down, noticing something odd about the ghouls’ appearance. They were wearing destroyed armour, most of it filled with holes even before they met Graphite’s shotgun. The ones wearing vests had their vests scraped with claw marks or simply had missing sections of their armour present. Graphite looked over the pile of bodies, examining the symbol that was pasted on every vest. He finally found one that wasn’t covered in blood; the symbol was yellow silhouette of Princess Celestia’s head on a blue background.

He recognized that symbol as the one of Buckago National Guard. Graphite stepped back a bit, taking a quick overview of the tents. There were no more ghouls coming his way, giving him more time to think. He figured this must be a National Guard’s outpost during the times after the balefire - right before the radiation started affecting the ponies. This poor squad of soldiers must have been stationed here after the blasts.

Graphite paid his respects the best he could - don’t search the bodies and move on. He walked around the pile of the dead guards, moving back to the tents to continue his scavenging. Each tent was as empty as the last, nothing but the garbage to sort through. After heading back and forth between the first four tents, he decided he would just follow the road and look through the tents from there.

The tents were nearing their end, Graphite was able to see down the road to where the tents finally stopped. Graphite was just about out of the city of tents; that’s when he took notice of the next row of tents down the road. Their fronts were covered, and the tarps were a thicker cloth and slightly darker tan. In the middle of each side of the tent was a symbol, three pink butterflies in a triangular group - the insignia for the Ministry of Peace.

These were the medical tents, and based on the number tents with the symbol, there should be at least one with supplies still stuffed inside it. He flipped the flaps of the entrance aside just as he reached the first tent, stepping inside of it. Inside the abandoned tent was what was normal to find inside a medical shelter after a war - skeletons resting on every cot the tent could fit. The skeletons were all laid out the same, either reaching for the nearest piece of medical supplies they thought would help them out of their misery; or simply lain straight, waiting to rot away.

Graphite was hardly use to seeing so many ponies dead; mostly when he knew they died slowly after all the nurses and doctors left them for dead or died themselves trying to get to them. Their burial was in the mausoleum of the tent, in the graveyard of the island, with the only visitors lying filled with shotgun pellets just outside the tent. Another moment of silence that he had been holding since Tsoy left, and Graphite was back to searching for supplies.

He went through the aisles, picking between the empty cases of syringes and loose bandages that couldn’t stay on the skeletons’ arms and legs. It was a long while until he finally found a lunch ration sitting in the corner he had already searched.

Graphite shook off the dirt and crumbs, taking a quick look inside to insure there was still food to be eaten inside the case. A pack of crackers and an apple bar was all that was left there. Stale or not, Graphite was going to have deal with. He slipped it into the free space in his backpack and was ready to move out of the tent.

Graphite reached the entrance and was about to head out, when one of the cots caught his eye. The cot was empty, unlike the others, with only a single holotape sitting in on the threaded fabric. He looked about the tent, hoping the owner would come by to retrieve it. He doubted that he or she would return for it, grabbing the holotape for himself.

Graphite sat himself on the old cot, getting comfortable as the legs of the bed started to squeak after finally being used in decades. Looking at the holotape in his levitation, and bringing out the Pip-Boy in his duster, he scanned the tape into the device - letting the audio play it through the tent.

The sound of panting came on, joined by the mumbled words of a worried young stallion.

“Okay, okay, this thing is working... um...

This is -- oh it doesn’t matter -- I’m here to say that every pony in this camp is dead. I don’t know what happened- I was at the park when a bright flash came from the center of the city and I blacked out- then I woke up here- and... I have poked around the camp and found some maps that say there’s another emergency centre near the Buckago Art Institute. If y- you’re hearing this, I suggest you head north and find that centre - that’s where I will be by the time you get there...

Uh, Good luc-”

The message cut off just as his last word was recorded. Graphite stopped the recording, dropping the tape somewhere on the ground near his hooves. He had one lead to go on, and that was the faint chance that other ponies had followed this stallion’s advice. If not, then maybe Graphite will be this young stallion’s first guest at the institute - arriving as a guest or as the grave digger.

Graphite jumped from the cot, making it out of the tent in a quick turn and a quick slide through the flap. He walked off into the fog, heading north again. This time, he kept his shotgun out, just in case something else was lurking in the fog. He knew that the fog was too thick for the rifle to be any use, so he loaded up the shotgun as the next best option. He kept to his sense of sight, his hearing impaired by the continuous drone of sounds that came from the fog - though his sight just as faulty as the fog continued to sit over the city.

There was the noise of the wind, something Graphite was all to well acquainted with. It passed over the dead grasses and the destroyed bark of trees, it swerved passed the toppled buildings and towering ruins, it slithered through the cracks of walls and streets. The wind was a experience as normal as breathing, the wind filled city of Buckago still held its character even when burnt to a sizzling ruin. The rest of the noises came from unknown sources - maybe another pack of ghouls growling in the distance, or maybe just some weak structure finally toppling down into the dirt. Graphite tried to not be distracted by the noises, keeping his eyes forward and his ears down to the sound of his trot.

Graphite was wondering the thick fog for a while. He stuck to what was left of the pre-war trails in the park. The trails were battered and bruised; after being walked on for years, they finally received the rest they deserved when all the passer-bys were wiped from the earth. He looked ahead, seeing nothing but the same white shade of fog he has been staring at for the passed mile he felt he had walked.

The fog was met with a shade, a silhouette in the distance. It was fuzzy, rough around the edges and very tall compared to Graphite.

Graphite kept walking forward along the trail. He finally came into a view of a base for that odd shape in the fog. He looked closely, still unable to find out what exactly the thing was protruding from the ground. What the object was attached was easy to recognize - the Trottingham Fountain, another landmark that still kept itself alive over the blasts.

Graphite had only been to the fountain a few times when he was younger, and could never realize how amazing the creation actually was. The fountain was made of three tiers of gradually smaller pools without water and completely made of etched stone. A series of pseudo vases were carved into the sides of the tiers. Running down the sides of the fountain were carvings of ponies galloping, rearing, and charging with their movements as over emphasized as the artist could create. Surrounding the fountain was another larger, waterless pool that was no deeper than knee height. In the empty pool were oxidized statues of ponies just like the carvings on the fountain. These statues were that pale green they happened when you set a statue out for years and years. This just showed the reliability of the fountain, and the amazing craftsmanship of the ponies from before the times before the war.

Graphite looked up to the fountains peak, looking to the grand pot that topped the fountain with a Gaelic rim and more carvings of ponies showing off their ability of kinetics. The pot at the top had an interesting ornament hanging from a branch of a splintered wood pole. Hanging by rough ropes was a pony, strapped by the back legs to the gallows.

The pony was starved, its ribs showing over the empty stomach. It was beaten, whipped, and scraped - its fur plucked in a few select places. It seemed to be a pegasus, it had wings, though they were also abused and almost plucked clean of feathers by something evil. What was even stranger was that it had a unicorn’s horn - though chipped along the side. The pony was an alicorn, a very tall one by the length the gallows support beam was and by the lanky legs that were swaying in the wind. It had a sapphire blue coat that was tainted by all sorts of stains and cuts. It’s mane and tail were a light blue, some tips of the tail cut unevenly and frayed. Graphite guessed some band of bandits were to blame for this poor pony’s fate. Perhaps they hung the pony here as some sigh telling the innocent ponies that might still be on the island to watch out for these bandits, using fear to keep these citizens out of the way.

Graphite wasn’t going to stay by the poor soul long, just being near the tortured body was stressing enough to cause any pony to break into tears. He sighed, turning his away with his eyes closed and heading down the same trail he was following before. He took no more than two steps when something whistled in the wind - a faint ‘Help.’

Graphite halted, the whisper startling. He whipped his head behind him, seeing nothing but the fountain and the pony still hanging from the gallows that were on it. Not a ghoul around, no ponies in sight, nothing but the fog and himself. Graphite turned back to the road slowly, keeping a light hoof on the road. He took another step, the same shrilling sound came out again, ‘Help...’

Graphite turned back again, looking to the only thing that could make the noise. He stared to the alicorn that was being displayed in the mist. It was surely dead, nothing that looked so incredibly broken could not survive long. He stared a bit longer, perhaps its ghost was haunting the fountain.

‘Help!’ Cried the same sound.

Graphite jittered a bit, seeing that the pony on the gallows was moving. It was trying to kick its way from the pole, struggling with its little strength to get free. Its flails were no more than a small twitch, but there was still a pony alive in that destroyed body. Graphite jumped the fence guarding the fountain from ponies attempting to do exactly what Graphite had just did.

He climbed the rounded stone tiers, attempting to climb the slippery carvings and chiseled sections of block. He got up the levels of fountain and reached the base of the gallows that were balancing on the peak of the fountain. He looked up to the alicorn in pain, the last of its breath being withered away by its faint calls of ‘Help, help, help.’

Graphite grabbed the knife from its sheath, bringing it to the ropes that hung the pony. He sliced through the rope with a few pulls and tugs against the grain of threads, catching the alicorn as it fell from its bonds. He caught with both arms, resting her down easy on the wooden boards beneath them both. It took in a gasp, holding it in as the air could finally reach its lungs easier. It let out a scream that could only be heard as a release of that air it had sucked in.

Graphite looked down the alicorn, wanting to hold it and keep it even if it was almost twice as big as himself. He looked to its face, seeing the soft features only a mare could have. He stopped to remember she was half dead, going for the one thing that could help her - the magical syrettes he always carried with him. Graphite reached for the case, opening it up quickly.

One left, the last of his needles that could be the difference of life and death for him - or the survival of this unlucky mare. He looked to the tip of the pointed needle, then down to the dying face of the mare. There were only a few more tiny moments before this alicorn would fall to the pain of her wounds. Only a one needle was needed to save her -- this belittled mare Graphite did not know. He stopped thinking, leaving himself to only reaction.

Graphite brought the syrette case back, bringing it to his duster once more. With a sigh, the case popped open - the needle in the grasp of his magic spell. The alicorn was barely breathing, only enough strength left in her to open her eyes. They could only open enough for her to see Graphite’s face. She had bright yellow eyes, ones that would make the sun envious. Graphite shut his eyes, repressing the tears as the syrette hit her chest.

It thumped against her body, her air being whisked away by the sharp pain. Her eyes shut closed again, Graphite pressing out the potion into her body. The potion was released into her body, but there was no change. The scars were still there and the bruises still visible right under the patchy fur. Graphite opened his eyes, dropped the dry needle down the tier of the fountain as he watched the potion course through a motionless body. Graphite fell back, easing himself away from the body.

He was late, the uncontrollable thoughts of his raging mind kept him from acting. Now the life he had tried to save was gone, and the last of his aid gone in the blunder of his care. Graphite’s crawl was ended by the pole on the gallows, to which he pressed his back against. All he could do was sit and stare at the strange being he encountered.

Graphite had seen alicorns before in the newspapers and in books -- even Princess Luna came to congratulate the recruits when they had finished their special operations training. They were the type of pony that were hard to come by. They seemed untouchable, something that even an army of steel rangers couldn’t take down. Yet there she was, an alicorn, lying dead just beneath his hooves.

He started to wonder where she had came from. It definitely wasn’t princess Celestia, yet there weren’t many alicorns before the war. Graphite was lucky enough to stumble upon one so easily; though, he would never get to meet with her. Graphite rubbed his eyes, sucking in the cold air before slowly getting up from the hard planks of wood. He looked down to the carcass of the alicorn, taking it all in before he set off north.

Graphite looked down the tier of the fountain, ready to hop down. One last look, being careful not to bump the body before he leaped. He looked to her body - patches of fur appearing where there was none. Graphite stepped back to the body, eyes wide and stuck to the places where wounds were present. They began to fade, bruises clearing away and scratches pulling together. The feathers of her wings stretched out, no longer bent and broken. Her face looked less flushed, blood flowing again and brightening the blue coat around her cheeks. There was a twitch in her hoof, then a deep breath through her nostrils. Her eyes came open as slowly as the sun rises, she was looking straight up at nothing. The potion was finally taking effect - just very slowly.

Graphite was without words; like a kick in the head, the alicorn came back to life in front of him. Without warning, a phrase come from his lips, “Are you okay?” He asked without him realizing.

The mare turned her head slightly, looking up at Graphite above her. She was a silent for a bit, still too weak to even respond. Graphite wanted to ask again, but he was just going to press his luck. He looked about the area, checking for any signs of dangers about. It seemed clear, so he prepared himself to carry him and the decrepit mare down the fountain’s levels. He spoke up again, “I’m going to get you down from here, okay?”

The mare still couldn’t respond, so Graphite helped himself with getting her down. He took the lead, jumping down the first tier before turning to the alicorn. He hoped he was going to able to carry the mare down, a pony that size was going to need all of his willpower. Graphite dug his hoof against the hard stone bed of the pool, focusing all of his energy to the alicorn. The magic of his telekinesis gathered around her body, slowly building to the point of lift. The pony was lifted from the gallows’ floor, gently floating over and down to Graphite’s side.

He set her down as softly as he could, releasing his breath of air he was holding while bringing the alicorn down. Graphite looked to the mare, insuring she was alright before hopping down the next level. A hoof stomp against the stone and a bite down on his lip, he moved the pony down again. He let out another side and continued on again. One more tier and just one more strain for him to work through. He got to the bottom, finding himself in the bottom of the fountain’s largest pool.

Graphite was out, or at least, just had to ease the alicorn over the fence. Graphite groaned, closing his eyes to try and bring back some energy into his body. He held his head up, looking to the fog above. The fog was clearing out, but still thick enough to block out the sky. The only indicator for the time of day was the bright sun with its rays beaming through the small gaps in the fog. The rays shifted and wavered between the fog and its ever flowing movement.

Graphite rested the dying alicorn against the fence he had hopped over. He was just out of strength to hold up the mare with magic, the last bit of his energy was quickly expended when he had to drag himself over the fence as well. Graphite looked to the mare, setting her as comfortably as he could get her. He rested a hoof on her stomach, feeling how dry and empty it was.

The alicorn, opened her mouth, trying to say something that wouldn’t come out. Graphite looked to her, leaning in to make sure he could hear any peep she could make no matter how small. A sound came out, the mare finally pushed out a sentence, “D- do you... have food?”

Graphite leaned back, “No, I d-” He looked to his bag, remembering that pack of rations he had found earlier, “-I mean yes- yes, I do.”

The alicorn lifted her hoof, resting it on Graphite’s vest. She blinked a slow blink, taking a breath to speak again, “C-can I-I... I...”

Graphite grasped her faint hoof, pulling it down from his chest, “Yes, yes, let me get it for you.”

He opened his bag, grabbing the ration pack before it fell it out of the almost overflowing pack. He popped it open, letting the top fall anywhere while he grabbed the first thing in the case. Graphite pulled out the apple bar, tearing away the wrapper and bringing it to the mare’s lips. He almost shoved the whole thing right down her gullet to fill her utterly empty stomach, but he stopped. This alicorn was starved close to death - feeding even the one apple bar to her could cause changes in her body that would, in all possibility, kill her.

Graphite took a short moment to think before he broke the bar in two, feeding the mare the one half. She could barely even chew, simply nibbling on the bit that was in her mouth. Graphite leaned in a bit, setting his hoof lightly on her fragile jaw and helping her to chew the apple bar. She finally swallowed after the bar had turned into an almost liquid consistency, traveling down her dry throat hard. The bit of food fell into her stomach, her cringes told Graphite that she needed some water to soften up her throat.

The canteen slid off of his belt, coming undone with Graphite’s magic. He swirled the container, listening to the water swish back and forth in the space. There was enough for them both - to both of their fortune. He tipped the flask over her lips, letting the water drizzle into her mouth. Graphite pulled the canteen back when he thought it was enough, letting her ease that sip down.

The mare swallowed, letting a damp gasp of air out after it had sunk into her stomach. Graphite waited for a response; a sign that she was feeling better. The alicorn lifted her head, only to say, “Thank you...”

Her voice flowed a little softer, less groggy and choked. Graphite grinned, covering up the canteen that was still in his spell. He let the alicorn breath for a moment, then asked her, “What happened, miss?”

The mare shook her head lightly, “I don’t know.”

Graphite answered back with a question, “You don’t?”

“I don’t remember anything at all,” The alicorn dropped her head, looking a bit upset that there was nothing to look back to in her mind.

“It’s okay,” Graphite consoled, “You’ve just lost your memory. I did once too.”

“How?” Her head tilted back up.

“A long time ago, I was frozen - anything before that I couldn’t remember; but, some things that I’ve seen and felt helped me regain my lost memories.”

Her head tilted the other direction, “You don’t seem too happy about it.”

Graphite sighed, “Not all of them were good, but they made me what I am now.”

The mare looked to him, licking her lips - Graphite reacting with the canteen just at her lips so she can drink. She took another sip, moving in with a question after swallowing, “Who are you?”

“I’m Graphite. What about you?”

“I am... uhh...”

“...It’s okay, you’ll remember it eventually. Um, maybe there’s something we can call you until you remember your real name. Perhaps your cutie mark can-” Graphite looked down to her haunch, finding it completely bare.

“Cutie mark?” She asked with confusion in her voice.

“Oh...” Graphite scratched his head, taking another moment to delve into his mind for answers, “It’s like a picture on your haunch; it’s suppose to show what special talent you might have.” Graphite paused another second, then came back, “How about, ‘Forget-Me-Not’?”

The alicorn was lost, her expression blank. She lapped her lips again, “What’s that?”

Graphite shifted legs he was kneeling on, continuing his conversation, “The Forget-me-not was a pretty blue flower that were almost everywhere before the war happened.”

“War?”

“Yes, um... Well, a while back, two groups of ponies were mad with each other. They started attacking one another, going into their countries and destroying everything. That’s what happened to this city, some of those ponies dropped big bombs on every city in Equestria, turning the place into... into this.”

“This..?” The mare Graphite decided to call Forget-Me-Not, was still just as lost as a school bound filly.

Graphite walked around her, taking the free space just to her right. He leaned against the hard metal fence just as Forget-Me-Not, he looked out to the city’s silhouette in the fog. They could see the towers that reigned in the centre of the city, overpowering all the other, smaller buildings. They stood tall with their imperfections; big holes and missing sides were just the examples of visible damage, there was still unknown amounts of erosion and rust inside the building’s skeleton. There were terrors hiding away in the abandoned rooms of buildings, monsters waiting for that moment when some poor pony just trying to find a way out stumbles across their territory.

“This...” Graphite uttered under his breath. He sat with his eyes stuck to the city the mare could not see. The long lines of broken roads were traveling in Graphite’s mind, roads the alicorn had not traveled - or did not remember every walking along. The sights, smells, and sounds of the city were screaming in Graphite’s head. Forget-Me-Not rested with only a blank figure in her thoughts.

This blank figure was like a square, a frame for a picture without a photo. The frame was surrounding everything she saw, covering anything she looked at like veil - a shadow that blacked out even the night. It was an uncomfortable feeling, nothing more. She was still breathing, any pain she used to feel was relieved after that odd prick hit her chest.

Forget-Me-Not turned to Graphite once more, her light voice stepping right into Graphite’s ears like a ball room dancer, “This... is this my home now?”

Graphite sighed, shaking his head, “I guess it is. I don’t have any idea where your real home is, Forget-Me-Not. I’m sorry you have to go through what I had to go through. It’s not fun waking up to a world like this without a single memory to look back to. No family, no home, no...”

“...Maybe I should just do what you have done.” Forget-Me-Not brought up suddenly.

“Oh, well, I don’t know. Your still recovering from your wounds, you need the rest.”

“And after I rest?” She squeaked.

Graphite turned his head away, looking at all the surrounding objects he could see for ideas. He bit his lip, “Um, then... then you can do what I did. You go where your nose leads you.”

“Where my nose...” Her voice faded with her commotion, her eyes crossing as she tried to stare at the tip of her nose.

Graphite chuckled, “Just go where you feel like it, Forget-Me-Not. Just make sure you find stuff to eat and drink when you get there.”

“Okay,” The mare peeped again.

“Okay,” Graphite repeated, smiling over how easily she understood the concept, “I guess I should go then - so you can get your rest. Just make sure, when you’re rested up, try to keep your head down - there’s a lot of bad ponies out there that could hurt you.”

Forget-Me-Not pulled her hooves a little closer, making herself warmer by hugging herself, “Well, what do if I those ponies try to hurt me?”

“You either run away, or you could try to hide.”

“Okay,” Was all she wanted to reply with.
Graphite pushed the half opened ration to Forget-Me-Not’s side, pushing it along the rough pavement, “Don’t eat this all at once.”

Graphite grabbed the fence and pulled himself from the ground, turning to the alicorn one last time before he finally went off, “Stay safe, Forget-Me-Not.”

The mare could only smile back. It was a weak beam, but a beam it was. There was nothing more Graphite needed to receive his thank you from her. Graphite had nothing more to give her, and no more words of advice to provide. He tightened the straps around his saddlebag, bringing his head to the direction of the fog and heading straight north.

He faded into the fog like the city joined the mist - seamless and quiet. He jumped into the shadowy drizzles of the clouds that sat on the ground, moving only where the road would allow. The art institute couldn’t be far, Graphite knew the building was right after the old fountain. He knew he would get there eventually, he just didn’t know if he’d be alive by the time he got there.

The fountain was far behind him, and the institute somewhere hiding in the fog ahead. Graphite could only see the ground beneath him and the hooves that were trotting down that crooked lane. There nothing around to see but white, floating through a blind space with nothing for him to do but think. Think of that strange mare still sitting by the fountain.