Painting of Three

Braeburn woke to the grumbling crackling sound of the stone crustaceans. They were all hanging near him, chattering and clacking their strange sounds into his ears and plucking at his skin. The one that had woken him was tugging on his right ear. He woke up, startled, and swung his hoof at it.

The crab-things all scuttled back, but the one near him clacked and clattered, then closed its claw. His ear came off, plopping to the sand next to him. He looked down, dumbstruck, then winced a few second later when the pain really hit him. He put a hoof to his head and grimaced when it came away wet with blood.

The crab-things crackled and grumbled around him, scuttling to and fro in a milling crowd, some reaching out to try and grab him now that the scent of blood was in the air. Braeburn swung his bloodied hoof, kicking up sand as he whirled about, giant stone claws picking and pecking at his tail and mane.

“Now you all cut that out! I ain’t feedin’ you, and you and getting’ a taste of me any more than you already have!” One of the creatures picked up his ear and shoved it into a gravelly mouth. His ear disappeared and he felt nauseous. A hoof cracked into a pincer that lunged for him, cracking the stone carapace.

Braeburn couldn’t stay any longer for fear they’d get over their initial trepidation and he leaped on one of them. Another swung a huge, razor-sharp limb, piercing through the shell and diving into the creature’s body. When it came away slick with blood and viscera, the others all reached out to help themselves. While they devoured their companion, Braeburn made his escape, leaping over the bodies of the others.


It wasn’t a good escape. He winced as he stumbled down the beach. He still had his hat, but now it sat lopsided on his head while he walked. The glassy water nearby seemed to be a face, the sun an eye in both sky and sea, the narrow band of the horizon its nose as it watched him stumble along.

In a haze of shock and confusion he drove through the choking sands, rocky beasts abandoned behind until he came upon a single crab, rocking along in its swinging gait on the turbulent dunes. It was walking away from him, but there, on its back, was a door set into the shell. In his hazy mind he tried to remember the last thing he had been doing before he was here on the beach. He remembered the Stranger, Scootaloo, a train, and… a door.

He looked up at it. It was exactly like the one the Stranger had fled through. The one he had entered to end up here! It was a passage, like most of the things the Stranger used, and this was another one! Crabs weren’t known for having doors in their backs, so this was a sign, and a good one! A sign he was going in the right direction!

Braeburn followed it to learn how it was going to move so that there were no surprises, then clambered up the creature’s back legs and onto its giant back. It dwarfed him in size, but though it turned to try and find the source of its discomfort, it couldn’t see him. He just spun along with it, climbing, until he was on top of the beast, kneeling next to the door.


The door rattled faintly in the stone of the crab. It wasn’t a good-quality door, instead made of what looked like termite-chewed wood with a crystal handle that had been chipped in several places. There had once been writing on it, carvings scribbled into the wood, but now that was gone. In its place were the painted words “Hoof to Hoof” in crooked text draping down the front. He grabbed the handle and pushed it open…

“Hello!” Her cheerful voice yelled into the ringing of the door chime, greeting the strange man in black. Derpy trotted out of the back of the shop and up to the counter. She laid her forehooves on the wood and looked out over the shop, smiling as wide as possible. Her eyes didn’t focus on the same things, but one was on the stranger, the other was on the shelves. “What can I help you with?”

“Hello, young lady, I’m looking for a book.” The stallion’s voice was deep and gravelly, like he was choking on something while he was speaking.

Derpy waited for a continuation of the sentence, but when he didn’t specify, she resorted to humor. She was always told humor was the best way to defuse an awkward situation, and this qualified! “Well, we have a lot of books!” She waved at the shelves. “Do you have a favorite color, or some favorite words?” She laughed. The stallion in black didn’t.

“No, there’s just a book I’m looking for with a specific title. It’s old, so I think it’s one you should have, but if not, I’ll search elsewhere.” He spoke while walking, running a hoof along the shelves without looking at them. The sound of his hoof bumping into the rickety old stacks made Derpy flinch.

“Sir, please don’t mishandle the books. If you tell me the title I can prob’ly find it for you.” Derpy slipped out from behind the counter and followed him as he disappeared behind some further shelves. “Sir, please, what do you need?”


The stallion, his cloak up over his face, had her worrying. What would anypony need to have their head hidden for unless they were up to something bad? If he was going to do something nasty, he was going to do it where she couldn’t see him, so she had to keep—at least one—eye on him.

“It’s a book about the world. Something detailed that explains the four cornerstones of it and the makeup of the planet we live on. Does that help?”

Derpy shook her head, messy mane swooshing about her ears as they flapped carelessly to and fro. “We have books on Equestria! Does that help? They talk about… Griffinstone, and the stuff down south. Like that?”

“Of a sort. I’ve been down south, now it’s a matter of going east, north, and finally west, you understand.” He glanced behind. The eye that looked at her was red and seemed almost to smolder.

“So, you want to travel? That’s in a different section.” Derpy whipped out a hoof to point across the room and her hoof slammed into the shelf next to her. Several books fell to the floor and the shelf rattled. Sturdy chains held it in place as it wiggled back and forth, precautions against her. She still winced.

“Careful, girl.” He grabbed her hoof and pushed it down. His touch was cold, and she shivered before pulling away. “What I want is a book, but it’s not a normal book. It’s an old book, and it hides itself away. Keeps itself secreted from all but the most unobtrusive people. Much like yourself.”

Derpy didn’t like the way this conversation was going. She cringed away from the stranger and crept backward. Mr. Binding told her to let robbers rob the store if they wanted to. He could replace some books but couldn’t replace her. She took that to heart.

When the stranger followed her back through the stacks, Derpy crept backward faster. He kept pace with her, watching her with those red eyes hidden underneath the cowl of his robe. The horn on his head worried her. She couldn’t see it, but it poked up under the cowl. If he wanted to, he could just grab her. That was scary.

“Where are you going? We haven’t found my book yet.” He laughed at the end, dark and now nasty.

“You’ll find it if you look, sir!” Derpy called out to him. She turned around and started trotting back to the front. It was some distance away between the shelves, but she could see the glass of the front window.

“But I need help. Isn’t it your job to help me, dear?”

“Other customers might need help!” she called back. She could hear his hooves, they were catching up to her no matter how fast she ran. For some reason the front of the store wasn’t getting any closer, either, her hooves pounding the ground found no purchase, no movement. Was she held still or was the shop getting longer? Was this a spell?

The front door opened and the bell jingled. Derpy could see it, though she was getting no closer to it. She cried out to whomever might have entered. “Help, please!” The stacks slid past as she ran, but there were always more. The carpet on the floor whizzed by but the stranger’s hooves were getting closer. Her wings flapped frantically, skidding along the shelves of books, dropping a few to the floor. There wasn’t enough room to fly here! “He’s after me!”


Whoever had entered didn’t wait, but neither did they say anything. Derpy heard hooves hammering on the wooden floor through the stacks, rushing toward her where she was held captive. She saw a stallion with a torn vest and a cowboy hat racing toward her and her heart leaped, but then she felt the stranger’s hoof touch her flank.

She was suddenly further back inside the shop, the newcomer further down the aisle. “Get back here!” the newcomer yelled. His voice was angry, and it almost sounded like he knew this stranger behind her. Derpy kicked out at her assailant and his hoof left her flank, letting her move toward the newcomer, dropping books from the shelves with her splayed and lopsided wings.

“Help me, please!” Derpy shouted in panic. The newcomer stepped aside, her wing knocked his hat from his head as he glared at the stranger. “He said he wanted a book on geography, but he’s lying, he wants me instead!”

“Nah, lass, he wants everything. Wants to see it gone for whatever reason. Talking about the four corners, yeah?” The newcomer said.

Derpy nodded, then realized he wasn’t looking at her. “Yes.”

“That would be the four cornerstones, Braeburn South is gone, but you know that, don’t you? You can feel it already. That’s why you’re here, because it’s beginning to fall apart.” The Stranger smirked. “All because you failed.”

Derpy didn’t know what they were talking about. Cornerstones and corners and these two stallions who knew each other? What were they even doing in her bookstore! Mr. Binding was going to be mad at the mess she’d made already, and if these two got into a fight…

The newcomer, Braeburn, snorted and stamped a hoof. The Stranger, the dark stallion with the cowl, stood tall and straight, probably with his horn lit. This was going to get bad.

Braeburn moved first, kicking a book up at the stranger before he raced toward him. Derpy wanted to tell him off, but he had come to her rescue. She ducked behind a shelf and watched.

The stranger’s hood lit brighter and the book burst into fluttering white scraps. He was bringing his magic into the fight! Derpy ducked behind and just listened instead of watching. Wooden bangs, the fluttering of falling stationery, and the whop of a hoof on flesh. There was an explosion that burst through one of the shelves and the whole thing toppled, followed by the stranger clambering over it toward her.

Derpy yelped and ran away again, racing away back up the rows. It looked like the Braeburn fellow had been buried under books as volumes flew, followed by the clattering of his metal-shod hooves on wood as he chased after the stranger.

“I’m not a book! Stop chasing me!” Derpy shouted. Her half-spread wings struggled between wanting to fly and the narrow path. She was hit by a beam on her right wing and her feathers smoldered. Her eyes closed and she shouted in pain, tucking it up against her body.

With her eyes closed she barreled into the shelving, bouncing off it, keeping her eyes closed as she ran. She hit shelves, book, displays, and more, all while trying to get away from the stranger and his strange magic. Something hit a shelf in front of her and she careened through papers that whipped at her face.

“Stop! Just stop! Take all the books!” She put her head down and ran. The stranger’s hooves were behind her until she heard the clatter of Braeburn’s shoes careen up and smash into him, taking the stranger down to the rustling floor.


“You want her and I don’t know why, but whatever you want her for, you can’t have her!” Braeburn’s hoof hit the stranger in the face and he exploded into a cloud of black smoke. The stench of soot filled the air, acrid and bitter. Derpy watched the cloud seep out of the building, streaming out the door, leaving her with her mess and Braeburn while papers fluttered to the floor.

When she was sure the stranger was gone and not about to reappear from nothing, Derpy looked at the other stranger. He had retreated into the building to grab his hat and was in the process of putting it on when she yelled at him. “What are you two doing here?” She was mad, hooves spread, nostrils flaring. “You know him, he knew you, and you’ve ruined my store! Mr. Binding is gonna be so mad!”

“Sorry, gal,” Braeburn said with a tired smile. “I didn’t know what I was getting into until I’d walked through the door. I’ll… help you clean up, if you need it.”

Derpy snorted and gave him a look with one eye. “Of course I need it! Mr. Binding is gonna kill me, and I’ll have to file a report about this! At least he’s unsured, but all the books… what did that guy even want?”

“He was after the cornerstones. He has gotten south, like he said. Now that I… feel it… he’s right. Things are falling apart, just like Appleoosa.” Braeburn went silent and got a faraway look in his eyes. “No wonder appleoosa fell apart. There was nothing keeping us together. I was all they had at that point. He drew me away, and now it’s gone…”

“What’s gone?”

“My home.”

“Oh…” Derpy rubbed her neck. What could she say to that?

“And…” she chose her next words carefully, “…is he going to make other homes disappear? Is that what he’s after?”

Braeburn grunted in agreement. “He is. He’ll make all the homes disappear. I know what he’s talking about, though I’m loath to admit it. I didn’t want to believe it was all true, but it is.” Braeburn held up one hoof, then used the other to make its right, left, and above it. “There are three more spots he’ll go to, and three more chances to stop him before he manages to enter the darkness and end it all.”

Derpy blinked, one eye after the other. “I don’t know what that means, but if he succeeds, other homes will all be gone?”

“Every home will be gone, yes.”

Derpy looked at the floor, then up at Braeburn, the out the windows. The door seemed to shimmer somewhat, so she blinked, trying to clear it, like there was something in her eye. When it didn’t go away she looked back at Braeburn. The sound of a car roared by. “All the homes? Every single one? But people live there!”

“And they won’t if he gets his way.”

Derpy stamped a hoof, slipped on a book, and righted herself quickly. “Well, we need to stop him!”

Braeburn grunted in agreement and moved for the door. “While I agree, I’m afraid I have to just say I’m working on it. I barely learned all this not days ago. I’m still working out my confusion.”

Derpy moved to follow him. “Then let’s go! I have a lot of friends that live in homes! Almost all of them, really! I don’t want them being homeless!”

“You’re not coming.” He blocked the doorway, that weird shimmer still floating across the entrance.


“Yes I am! I’m gonna give that stallion a piece of my mind! He’s being a big dumb jerk!” Derpy pushed forward, trying to pass him through the door. “Out of the way, he smoked somewhere out there!”

“You can’t leave until I do, and not until I’ve shut the door!”

“He’s getting away while you’re standing in my way, move!” Derpy shoved, slipping on the paper all over the floor. She grunted as she pushed against Braeburn, who’s earth pony body didn’t budge.

“I’m hunting him alone, girl. Last time I had somepony with me it… didn’t end well.” He shook his head, remembering something. Derpy didn’t care, she had to help, and she wouldn’t let anything stand in her way.

“Well that doesn’t matter cause I’m gonna stop him with or without you!” She shoved, slipped, and face-planted on the floor.

Braeburn rolled his eyes and leaned down to pull her up by a hoof. “You can’t come, girl. This is dangerous. He and I have a vendetta; a price that needs paid. I’ve made my payment, now he has to make his.”

“And if I do nothing he’s gonna take away everypony’s homes and they’re all gonna be living in the cold!” She was up again, pushing against him.

“That’s not…” Braeburn slapped a hoof to his face.

“If you won’t move, I’ll just have to get drastic!” Derpy backed away, then took off awkwardly into the air. She bumped into several hanging signs, then careened around, coming at Braeburn.

“Wait, stop!” Braeburn braced himself, but she was coming on too fast. She struck him full on, and although he tried to brute-force it, she was a powerful if clumsy flyer. Both of them rolled through the door, but instead of hitting concrete sidewalk and asphalt street, they landed in soft sand, Derpy getting a mouthful of it.

“Pleh! Guh! Garf!” Derpy spat sand and struggled to get herself upright. The sand was getting in the feathers of her wings, strangling her ability to fly and she felt like she had to. She could smell the surf and the stink of hot seaweed rotting in the sun. This wasn’t the city or her bookstore! “What? Where am I?”

The other stallion—Braeburn—pulled himself upright with more decorum and adjusted his hat. Sand trickled from the brim into the beach and a huge, crablike creature lumbered away behind him. Derpy could have sworn there was a door in its back for a moment, but it was gone soon after, leaving the crab with a stony shell, unmarred by any blemish save stone cracks.

“This is why I darn well told you not to follow, lass. I and he ain’t from around where you are.” Braeburn helped her out of the sand and carelessly brushed sand from her wings. “Now you’re stuck until I figure out a way to send you home. That what you wanted?”

Derpy could only stare at the world she’d ended up in: Grey skies, gnarled trees, coarse sand, and… giant crabs? This wasn’t what she wanted at all! She wanted to go punch that nasty stranger in the eye with a hoof, save everypony, then return home to… Mr. Binding, who would be mad at the mess left of his bookstore. She probably didn’t have a job anymore. A hoof dug in the sand as she looked down, wings drooping to drag in the sand. “No…”

“Yeah, well, you’re here now. Probably fate or some shit. The Stranger wanted you for some reason, so that’s good enough reason to not let him have you. You’re safer with me than back there.” Braeburn moved up the beach to the edge, where it would be easier to walk. Derpy followed him, struggling through the sand to the dry grass at the edge.


“Why does he want me? I’m not special. I’m not anypony. I’m just Derpy.”

“Well, miss Derpy, what that Stranger wants is to sow chaos everywhere. I don’t know why, and I don’t know what he means to do with chaos everywhere, but the fact that he wants it is enough reason not to let him have it, as I said.” Braeburn brushed sand off his coat, his shining shoes glinting in the pale light of the sickly sun. “He’s a nasty sort, removed my home from existence, as I said, and now he wants to remove everypony else’s, and that’s what I’m out to stop!”

Derpy looked Braeburn over, looking at the claw marks in his vest and the missing ear from one of the holes in his hat. Her other eye watched the trees for signs of anything strange, sometimes flicking over to the crab-things that were shuffling around the beaches, grumbling in their crackly voices. Nothing around here seemed normal, but Braeburn was taking it all in stride, like he was used to it. It was… reassuring, but only somewhat. “How did we… get here from my shop?” she asked.

“Doors.” Like it was a matter of course. “I don’t know if it’s the Stranger making the doors or if he’s affected by them as much as you and me. He just knows where they all are, and where they go. I don’t like it, but there’s not much I can do about it. He’s got all the knowledge and information, and I’m running blind. It’s frustrating, but I can’t let him win, even though I’m weaker than he is and less knowledgeable.”

“Well, he’s still a very bad pony,” Derpy said with a firm nod, “so we have to stop him!” She stamped a hoof.

Braeburn looked at the back of the crab that had wandered off. It was staring at them – at least he thought it was – in a hungry manner, snipping its claws. Braeburn brought a hoof up to his missing ear and frowned, then pulled Derpy away. “Come on, let’s get away from the beach. Those things are dangerous.”

“Beaches?”

“The crabs,” he said, tight-lipped.

The gnarled woods that bordered the beach were choked with thorns in most places. The bushes didn’t look to be any kind of berry bush or flowering plant. There were no leaves or petals on the ground, so it hadn’t shed them for the season, but there was nothing but vines – choking, strangling vines. Braeburn lifted his metal-shod hooves and stamped a path for Derpy to follow.

“If there’s any direction we should be going, it’s away from the beach. We’re headed toward something, and I don’t think the Stranger is going to let us get away from him for long. We have to try and stay ahead of him, no matter what, and I’m not walking along what looks like and endless beach full of crabs that like eating ears.” A vine snapped back up and lashed him along the leg. He cried out in pain.

Derpy floated over his head, wings beating calmly as she stared at him with one eye, the other wandering over the dark forest. “You want me to carry you?”

Braeburn looked up at her and sighed. “No, I’ll be fine.” He rustled into the forest, stamping as he went with Derpy just overhead, calm and unhurt.

“So what are we looking for?” she finally asked to break the relative silence.

“A door.”


“Like, into a house? We’re looking for a cabin?” Derpy batted a branch overhead. It was dry and it snapped, taking its neighbors with it. A cascade of dry, rotted wood collapsed down toward Braeburn, who leaped out of the way at sound, rolling over the prickly vines. When he picked himself up with a wince, he had a pile of wood blocking his path in addition to the brambles. He looked up at Derpy and scowled.

“Okay, well now I need you to carry me, because you’ve made a damn mess!” Braeburn shouted. He put a hoof to his head and smashed his hat down over his eyes with a groan.

“Oh, sorry. I just… don’t know what went wrong.” She flew a little lower, closer to Braeburn. “Just carry you over the forest?”

“As far as you think you can, yes.” Braeburn reached up and grabbed Derpy’s forehooves. He gripped tight as she flapped and strained as his hooves slowly lifted off the ground.

“Good Celestia… what are your shoes made of!” Derpy flapped and strained, muscles on her neck and back bulging out as she lifted the dense earth pony from the vine-covered ground. Little by little they made their way up, Derpy awkwardly hunting for a path up through the dry tree branches. A few were bumped, and another cascade of wood clattered into the mess below.

“Damn, this place is a mess. It seems like it’s dying, and I don’t know why.” When they cleared the treetops, his comment became even more clear. There was nothing but an endless expanse of dead wood and beach, like they were on an island with sand circling the dying forest as if to cradle it in its last minutes of life. It was… somber, and foreboding.

Derpy was panting with effort as the two of them floated above the forest. Her wings beat the air as rapidly as she could manage and they painstakingly made their way up. “I… can’t keep this up much longer. There doesn’t… look like there’s anything… nearby.”

Braeburn dangled helplessly in her hooves, eyes scanning the horizon. “You’re right there, lass. Doesn’t look like… wait! What’s that?” One of his hooves shifted in her grip and stuck out to point at the horizon.

“What’s… what?” Derpy followed his gaze but couldn’t see anything noteworthy. That might have been her eyes, though.

“There’s a door! Another door!” Braeburn jerked his hoof excitedly, making Derpy flap erratically.

“Stop that!” Derpy shouted. “I’m gonna drop you!” Braeburn stopped shaking, but he still pointed. The more Derpy flew, the better she could see, and sure enough, there was a door, sat upon a low-hanging cloud off in the distance. “Oh! I see it!”

“Head for it! If we want out of here, we need to get in that door. This place is empty and pointless, and I don’t think the Stranger is here. Get me to that door!”

“I’m getting myself to that door so I can hopefully find that meanie and beat him up, then go home. You’re coming along just cause I’m nice!” Derpy grunted and swerved. A gust of wind blew through the clouds, sending her swinging along through the air, Braeburn underneath her.

“Hold on to me!”

“I’m trying!”

“Try harder, I’m slipping!”

“Then hold on tighter!” Derpy bit her lip and focused one eye on the door. She swayed and bobbed in the air, winds beating hard as she could and slowly, ever-so-slowly the door came closer. The cloud it sat on was waiting for her just ahead, and she was almost there. Just a little longer…


When she arrived she landed on it and prepared to let go when she realized Braeburn had fallen through it. He was clinging to her legs with all his considerable might. “Don’t let go, woman! I’m not a Pegasus!”

“Oh! Sorry!” She flapped again, pulling him back up through the cloud and held him in front of the door. He grabbed the handle, swung it open and swung himself through. Derpy flapped through after him and they landed in a field. Derpy’s wings shook from the strain while Braeburn just kissed the ground, happy he was finally back on solid ground.

“Oh, how sweet it is to be standing on something again!”

Derpy grabbed one wing and pulled it in front of herself, massaging her feathers awkwardly. Her other lay flat and fully-extended, limp on the grain. “You’re welcome…” she grumbled.

“Thank you, miss Derpy, was it? I’m glad you were there to help.” He offered her a hoof and she stared at it with one eye before taking it. He helped her up. “Now we need to find out why this door appeared.

“I thought you said he just made doors appear for no reason.”

“They appear, but there’s always a reason behind it. None of this is happening pointlessly. The Stranger knows it and now I know it. If a door appeared, there’s something useful within. The trick is finding out what.”

“So where do we start?” Derpy gazed out over the field. Her head barely cleared the wheat, giving her a covered view of much of the landscape around them. She didn’t think it was a nice or useful place at all. No buildings, no shops, no mail, no books, no nothing. What could be useful in a place like this?”

“We start by getting out of the open.” Braeburn ducked low into the field, eyes flicking about for anything that might be flying above them or hiding nearby. “I don’t know where we are, but I’m going to assume it’s dangerous.”

“It looks kinda pretty. Do you really think it’s dangerous?” Derpy stood tall until he grabbed her by the wing and pulled her down into the grass with him.

“Stop! Get down. We’re going for the hillside, okay?” He pointed at a distant hill where the grass gave way to a single rock wall. Pony-made, it looked like. If the surrounding fields were farmland, covered in grains and grasses of all types, then the wall would lead them to a house eventually.

“Okay…?” Derpy obeyed, but she wasn’t sure why they had to be so sneaky. She could have flown up over the landscape to scope out a house, but she did as she was told. He knew the Stranger better than she did. She followed and he led her along, headed for the stones.

The wall was bare of swaying grasses, and they could see it traveled for a great distance in either direction. There were no other fences visible for what looked like miles, but without flying, Derpy couldn’t tell. She had to just trust Braeburn.

“Alright, Derpy. I see nothing flying, but I still don’t want you up in the air. We’re gonna walk that way,” he pointed down the stone fence, “until we see something change, okay? Then, and only then, will you go up in the air to check things out.”

Derpy nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll wait for your signal then?” She followed behind him, head low, wings pressed in against her sides.


“No, you can’t have two dozen for the price of one dozen. I know Daisy has that same deal, but roses are harder to grow than daisies. What you’re paying for here is quality.” Roseluck tapped a hoof on the counter, motioning to the painted prices on it.

“But my wife likes roses, not daisies,” the customer pleaded.

“Then you can get her a dozen roses and she’ll love them all the same. Why would more be better?”

“Because I want more. The daisy and lily carts have more on sale.” The stallion pointed to the other carts that were Roseluck’s competition.

“And as I just said; I do not have a sale. Roses are hard to grow, and ponies love roses. I can make enough without having to have a sale except on holidays. If you want to wait for a holiday I’ll have a sale then.” She shrugged.

The stallion harrumphed away, headed back to the daisy cart. Roseluck had lost a sale, but she’d get more. Ponies always wanted roses. Sure, she couldn’t sell sandwiches like daisy could, but the aesthetics of the roses were enough todraw ponies back. There was just something about a rose that no other flower had.

A stranger wearing a black cloak came up to her and smile from underneath his hood. “Hello, miss. May I have a single rose?”

“Oh, sure! That’ll be one bit.” She picked one out of the vase with her hooves and held it out. The stranger leaned up to grasp it with his teeth. He brushed her hoof with his cheek and she shivered. He was warm, but she got a cold feeling. Unpleasant and chilling.

“So sorry, miss,” he said over the stem. “My mistake. Thank you for the rose. What is your name?” She pointed up at the sign on her cart. “Ah, my mistake, Roseluck.”

“I grow and sell roses, as can be assumed from my name. And you, sir, I assume you’re not waiting around for another rose.” She had a lot of suitors who would idle near her cart in hopes of taking her out on the town. She rarely accepted. This one looked all mysterious and spooky, so she was just waiting for some hackneyed approach where he’d gift her rose back to her. She was surprised when he didn’t offer it.

“How long have you lived here, Roseluck? You and your family.” He gripped the rose in his magic and spun it about his head while he watched her. “Has it been at least three generations?”

“That’s an odd question, but yes. My family has lived here on the west coast for…” Roseluck tried to count. “I think seven generations at least. The family home has been our place of residence for as long as I, my mother, my grandmother, and her mother can remember.”

“Oh? And which house is that?”

“It’s the –“ Something in his eyes made her stop. He had looked up at her when she spoke and she got a glimpse of red under his hood. The kind of red that reminded her of blood and angry things. Hatred, almost, if she had to pick an emotion to attach to it. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, less so when he smiled. “I… think I won’t tell you, sir. You make me uncomfortable.”

“Do I? That’s rather unfortunate. I’ve done nothing to warrant it.”

“You’ve asked me about my home and family, then asked me where I live, all while spending the minimum amount of bits to make it seem like you belong here.” Roseluck motioned to Daisy and Lily, using their secret code for help. Lily ran off to get somepony while Daisy stayed and watched.


“You think I mean you ill, miss Roseluck?” The rose had stopped in front of him, and while she watched he plucked a petal from it. It fluttered to the ground.

Roseluck stared at the petal and hardened her gaze. Her lips drew taut in a line and she stared at the stallion. “You must leave, or you will have to face the music, sir. I don’t appreciate being threatened.”

“You think this is a threat?” He barked a laugh. “I’m a little insulted, but I should clear up that this is not a threat, this is merely fate. Fate for you, fate for me, and fate for everypony around. They can’t do anything to stop it, it is inevitable. What matters is how I handle everything, and whether or not I get your help in the meantime.”

“And my ‘help’, I assume, is telling you where I live so you can do whatever you were ‘fated’ to do there? Which, I may add, sounds suspiciously like a threat. Fate or not, you can’t go robbing or killing ponies.” Roseluck lifted her gardening shears in a hoof and furrowed her brow at the Stranger.

Lily came running back, two guards in pursuit. The Stranger looked at them and smiled. “Then I’ll see you later, Roseluck. There’s nothing you can do, and you have my promise on that. Not really a promise as it would happen anyway, but you understand, I’m sure?” He swirled his cape and turned, leaving her behind.

Roseluck was breathing heavy when the guards arrived with Lily. They looked at her, then at the Stranger walking away. They pursued, leaving Rose alone. The single rose the Stranger had bought lay on the ground, the head popped off. She just stared.

Later that day, after the fussing from Lily and Daisy and the questions from the guards (who hadn’t caught the Stranger with anything other than being a creep and had to let him go), Roseluck was carefully making her way back home.

The cart was left behind and locked up, wooden windows closed and shutters pulled so it was nothing but a box left in a courtyard, waiting for her to come back in the morning at the same time to open it up and allow the roses some fresh air and sunlight. The wheels were locked, as were the windows and shutters, not to mention nothing except roses left behind, so if that Stranger wanted inside, all he’d get were more flowers.

Roseluck walked home with one of the guards, wary after the Stranger’s questions from before. She didn’t see him, nor did the guard, but that was small comfort. His unspoken threat, hinted at but never confirmed, lay hidden behind his words.

He wanted her, or her family, or her family’s house. He was dangerous and she didn’t know why. The guards were aware of it, but all they did was advise her to keep her doors and windows all locked and an eye out for him. If she saw anything, she could call, but they didn’t think he’d be a problem until daylight if she was safe indoors.

Roseluck lived alone. The guard left after he confirmed her house was locked up and she was inside. She ate dinner, read some, then prepared for bed, double-checking the windows before she crawled in. She kept expecting to hear the tinkling of broken glass, waiting for some stallion dressed in black to come crashing through the window on top of her, but it never came.


Instead, Roseluck was awakened by the sound of hoofsteps in her room, soft, careful, but heavy hoofsteps that trotted across the hardwood confidently and unabashedly toward her bed.

Roseluck kicked her blankets up and onto the intruder, or where she thought the intruder was, and jumped out after it. She fell through the air onto nothing, only for a heavy hoof to club her in the back of the head and push her down to the floor. “Not good enough, girl. I’m looking for a door, you see. Something important that should be in the oldest place in town. Show me the doors in your house.”

Roseluck was confused. “The doors in my house? Why do you even want to see those?”

The hoof on the back of her neck pressed. “I just told you why. Show me. Take me on… a tour.” His growling, gravelly voice whispered in her ear. She grunted but nodded slowly. “Fine.”

They walked out of Roseluck’s room, the Stranger behind and beside her, watching her as they walked. She started with her bedroom, opening her closets at his behest, looking past the clothes for anything that might be hidden behind them she didn’t know about.

“Small or unseen, size matters not. I’ll know it when I see it, just show me all the doors this house has.”

“It’s a big house, that’ll take all night.”

“I’ll take my chances. I only need to find it once. You’re the one I saw, so you’re the one I need. It’s fate.”

“We’re not fated to be together, if that’s what you’re wondering. I wouldn’t accept you no matter what.” Roseluck opened the doors of another empty room, showing off the closets, bathrooms, and other cupboards gracing the house. The Stranger shook his head each time, patient and insistent.

“No, dear woman, it’s not the red string of fate that binds us, but the iron chains of inevitability. It has nothing to do with something and banal as love. This is business. The business of the end.” The Stranger tugged her along from room to room, demanding that she point out the doors and explain each one. When they finished with the upstairs, they moved on down to the lower floors.

They were in the living room when they first heard a noise from a window. A tapping sound, like that of metal on glass.

With the lights on, they couldn’t see outside. The Stranger squinted at the glass and pushed her. “Lights! Now!” Roseluck stumbled over to the switch and flipped it. The lights went back out and he glared at the windows once again.

“Not guards, or you would have yelled. Not one of the other women in the square or you would have gotten the guards. Braeburn, unless I miss my guess?” The Stranger stared at the windows, head moving along them one at a time as if looking at something only he could see. “You can’t hide, Braeburn, we’re intertwined, you and I. I know where you are and I know where you’ll be. There’s nothing you can keep from me.”

Roseluck saw it then; a hoof tapping the glass of a window down the side of the house. It tapped one, then the next, a silvery-steel shoe clunking against the glass as the owner ran about the house from one to another. For what purpose Roseluck couldn’t say, but The Stranger was paying rapt attention. He seemed to know the individual it belonged to, as if he were expecting him to show up. “Braeburn”, he had said.


From the kitchen came a crash and the sound of tinkling glass. Something had broken! There was the clattering of racing hooves and a banging of pots and pans. Dishes broke, crunched, and somepony was inside, running about the building.

The Stranger hissed and steam escaped his mouth. His horn, hidden under his hood, seemed to glow purple and he just turned into mist and flowed out of the room, off toward the kitchen where the intruder had entered. Roseluck swallowed at the sight but ran to follow the tapping hoof instead of the broken window.

“Braeburn? Is that your name? Sir? Can you hear me?”

From the hall leading from the kitchen came a shout. “It was an accident! I’m sorry! I don’t know what went wrong!” It was a mare’s voice, a low alto, not like she’d have expected. The angry growl from the Stranger came out afterward.

“You’re not Braeburn at all!” he shouted.

Roseluck was expecting him to come back to her now that this “Braeburn” wasn’t the one inside. Rose ran to the back door, threw it open, and shouted. “Mr. Braeburn, over here! Help, please!” She didn’t know if he was good or bad, but she’d take her chances.

A stallion with a large hat and a green vest came galloping out of the darkness. His hooves clattered heavily from the steel shoes on his hooves and he barged inside past her. “Thank you, ma’am!” he said in passing as he pushed inside, heading straight for where the mare’s voice had come from.

“Derpy! Get out of here! I told you to knock, not break it!” Roseluck chased after him as he barreled in, heading straight for the black Stranger. A grey Pegasus was struggling across the tables in the dining room, but there was no sign of the Stranger.

“Who are you?” Roseluck yelled indignantly. “Get off the tables! You can run along the floor just fine!”

“I’m Derpy and I’m sorry! I don’t know what went wrong! I was trying to knock and spook him!” The mare, Derpy, raced across the table, kicking the good silver all over the floor. The dark cloud of the Stranger wafted past in a swirl of dark smoke and he coalesced at the end of the table. Derpy shrieked and skidded as she tried to turn around, but the Stranger lowered his horn, she wouldn’t be able to dodge in time.

Roseluck smacked him upside the head with a plate. The silver dish dented on his head and the second swing impaled it on his horn. It was enough of a distraction for Derpy to scramble off the table and into the other room with Roseluck on her tail. The heavy clatter of Braeburn’s hooves echoed through the room as he barreled in, bashing past chairs toward the Stranger.

The Stranger’s horn glowed and the silver dish melted. Roseluck only got a quick glance of the molten metal falling to the floor before he disappeared behind the walls of her house. Derpy grabbed her under a wing and scampered off until they were far enough away from the thumping, pounding combat between the two stallions.

“What did he want from you?” Derpy asked, seemingly nonchalant now that the Stranger was out of sight. Her eyes were crooked, Rose noticed, one focused on her, the other glancing about the room.

“What?” Rose didn’t understand the question, still breathing in a near-panic.

“Did he want to know where some pillars or foundations were? That’s what he wanted from me.” A smash and splintering wood from the other room. Rose winced, but Derpy didn’t even whimper.


“No, he wanted to know where all the doors were in my house. I was showing them to him when you two showed up.”

Derpy jumped to her hooves and her wings spread wide. One of them clipped Rose in the head. “A door?! Like, a big fancy door that opens up to another world?!” Derpy was excited at the prospect, like she knew what Rose was talking about. They must have known to have tracked the Stranger to her house.

“I don’t know, he did seem to be looking for a particular door, though.”

Derpy turned to stick her head back in the hall. “Braeburn! I’m gonna go find the door!” She got no answer besides a grunt and the sound of bone cracking into bone. She seemed satisfied with that. She turned back to Roseluck and smiled, beaming. “Take me to the door! I bet it’s downstairs.” She tried to wink, but it only came across as a squint.

Roseluck was dumbfounded both by the mare’s cheery attitude while her house was getting ransacked, and the fight happening in the other room. Still, she stood and led Derpy away from the fight and to the basement door. She opened it and grabbed a lantern next to the entrance and lit it, leading her down into the basement.

“This is the basement. It’s the furthest down we can get. I don’t know what might be down here besides the jars of vegetables and fruit. There’s no… doors.” Rose said that, but there at the far end of the basement, illuminated brighter than her lantern should have been able, was a door. Tall, imposing, and fancy, with glass in the front that gazed somewhere white, it was positioned between two wine racks, a narrow thing.

The gray mare (who was named Derpy?) grinned at Roseluck. “I knew it!” She turned to the stairs and shouted back up them. “Braeburn! I found it!”

“Found what?” came the stallion’s voice.

“The door!”

“Dammit Derpy, don’t yell about it!”

She covered her mouth with a hoof, ears going flat. “Oops, sorry.”

A dark laugh came from upstairs and Rose felt a wind breeze past her. From what she’d seen of the Stranger, she could guess what that was. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she knew she wasn’t going to let him have it without some sort of a fight. She raced down the remaining steps, lantern in her teeth, and slammed herself against the door, forcing it shut at the same moment the Stranger tried to open it. He coalesced in front of her and glowered.

“Out of my way, woman.”

She shook her head. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but she just shook it even harder. “I don’t know what you want other than this door, so you can’t have it. You’re a bad pony.”

“I’m worse than just a ‘bad pony’, dear. I can be a terror.” His horn lit up and she felt magic pick her up. Her hooves dangled and then she was hurled across the room.

She briefly saw a cowboy hat galloping across the basement and there was a scuffle yet again. Hooves struck flesh, something cracked, glass broke, and Derpy apologized while Roseluck picked herself up from the heap she’d landed in. Whatever was going on was huge somehow, and she was the focal point for much of it. She didn’t know why, but her house was important. If she survived, she’d have a lot of questions.


“Derpy, come on!” Braeburn was struggling to hold the door shut. The Stranger has become a cloud of smoke again and was tangling with Braeburn, pulling on the door, his vest, and his limbs as it tried to get through. A cut appeared on his cheek and the dark, sinister laughter of the Stranger echoed through the basement.

“Coming! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Derpy dove from her place on the stairs, wings wide. She careened toward Braeburn and rolled through the air, crashing into him, the door, and the wine racks. More bottles fell to the floor and shattered, but she succeeded in shaking the Stranger off Braeburn. The cloud came at Roseluck and she weakly raised her hooves, but he changed back to himself and held her by the neck in his magic, point of his horn at her throat.

“Open the door Braeburn.”

“No.”

“You want to be the cause of her death?”

“One pony is less important than the entire world.”

“You think so? A single pony can change the entire world, can’t they? Aren’t I doing that already?”

“You can’t if I stop you.”

The Stranger grinned. Rose could see his teeth, yellow and pointed, even from her vantage point near the dangerous part of his horn. “You can’t stop me, you can only delay me. A little bump here isn’t going to protect everypony from the changes I intend to make, it will only put it off for another year at best.”

“But that’s another year I have to try and get rid of you.”

“Ah, you’re understanding then. One pony is not unimportant. A single pony can change the world, and…” he smiled at Braeburn, those red eyes narrowing menacingly. “…a single pony can stop me from changing the world. Do you think this is her?”

“I think you’re full of shit.” Braeburn spat on the floor. “You’re not a single pony doing all this. It’s a combination of this thing you keep referring to that’s decided all our fates, and the inability of anypony around to get off their haunches and stop you! Well, I’m stopping you!”

“You’re sacrificing somepony is what you’re doing. Just like you gave away that—”

“Shut up!” Braeburn hurled two bottles of wine. The first made the Stranger duck and flew over his head, the second crashed into his side and shattered, spraying wine everywhere. Braeburn followed behind the second and tackled the Stranger into a barrel behind him.

Freed from his grasp and the threat of death, Roseluck scampered away, over to Derpy’s side who was standing at the door. “What is going on?” Roseluck demanded of the grey mare.

“The Stranger is trying to take away everybody’s home, and Braeburn and me and stopping him!” Derpy beamed.

“What does he want to do that for?”

“Because he’s bad.” Derpy smiled as if she had explained everything.

“Derpy!” Braeburn shouted and swung a hoof. Wood from the barrel splintered and a trickle of some ancient alcohol seeped out. “Open the door!”

“What?”

“Open the door, we’re going in!” The Stranger turned into smoke and appeared behind Braeburn. He gripped him by the neck and pulled. Somehow in the scuffle Braeburn’s hat had fallen off. His elbow slammed into the Stranger’s chest in heavy, thudding succession as he worked the man’s torso over.

“Going to try and get there ahead of me, are you?” The Stranger laughed at Braeburn’s strikes, unbothered.

“I’ve… learned I can’t beat you here. You’re just messing around. So if I can’t beat you physically, I’ll take your things away from you so you can’t have ‘em.”


“I welcome you to try, but do open the door, won’t you, Derpy? We should all go through together, don’t you think?” The Stranger smiled at Derpy with teeth bared. Derpy hesitated.

“But it’s what he wants!” Roseluck watched her touched the door and glanced back and forth between them. She looked at the broken glass on the floor at Braeburn’s hooves, the two tussling stallions narrowly missing it as they rolled and wrestled. She thought about the mess they’d made upstairs and snarled angrily. She reached out and grabbed the handle, yanking it down to open the door.

“Here! Go ahead! Get out of my sight!”

The Stranger hissed in delight and dissipated into smoke. The cloud raced toward the door as it swung slowly open, followed by Braeburn, hat clutched in a hoof. Roseluck turned to see what was through this frighteningly unusual door that had popped up in her home, and looked inside to see a starry expanse.

The black cloud of The Stranger whipped at their manes as he passed by them. Roseluck felt a tug at her fur and could only stare through the door. Something was pulling her besides him, and it was terrifying. She could swear she heard wolves howling in the distance, and music from a simple village band. The smell of cooking fires and the rushing of a train on its tracks.

Behind it all hid the scent of something unusual. Nothing flowery (she would have recognized that), but something that was trying to be flowery. It was trying to cover up the smell of other things she couldn’t place. It was a syrupy, chemical scent like the coal of a train or the oil of a lantern. Something like kerosene, but sweeter.

Braeburn charged at the two of them standing by the door once the Stranger ha gone through. The picture through it was fading, though Roseluck didn’t know or care why, she was just glad the Stranger was gone. She jumped in shock at Braeburn’s sudden charge and tried to move out of the way, unfortunately, Derpy and the wine rack were right next to her.

She bumped into both, and Braeburn kept coming. “Don’t let him get in there alone! We can’t stop him here, but we can try to stop him there! You too!” He grabbed Roseluck and dragged her with him as he stepped toward the door.

“Wait, what?”

“He came to you, that makes you important. Maybe not one of the most important pieces, but you had a door.” The smell got stronger the closer she got to the door. It was artificial and harsh, not pleasant. She didn’t want to go.

“Wait, I agree that something strange is going on, and that something needs to be done, and maybe, after all this, maybe I’m the one to do it, but how will I get home?” Roseluck looked at her home; at the messes left about the place and the broken glass littering the floor. It was a home, but it was empty. This entire place was entrusted only to her, and she had no lover or husband. It would probably remain empty when she was gone until it was sold.

“You may not. That’s a risk we all take. For the betterment of others I gave up my village in the hopes that it would become better for those I left behind.” Braeburn looked in the doorway. Derpy was already fluttering about on the other side, staring back through with one eye while the other cast about at the scenery. “I’m taking that chance.”


“Okay.” Roseluck nodded slowly, and with one final glance at her house, she moved through the door. She was going to miss it, and the others would wonder where she had gone, but they weren’t really “friends” as such. They all knew each other, but they never came over for tea, and she never went over to their homes. She was the daughter of the rich folks on the hill who sold flowers for a lark. She didn’t need to, she just liked roses. It was all just… something she liked. She could do whatever she wanted, really. The house and the ponies around were the only things tying her down, and even then it was loose. She could go and she wouldn’t really be missed. The guards would search for her body for a little while before determining that the Stranger from last night truly was a threat and had broken in and killed her. “I hope my service is nice,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Roseluck followed him in the door, and it shut automatically behind her. They were gone, into some chemical, caustic world that smelled of coal dust and poison, without a single rose-scented anything save herself. The world of the Stranger.

All around were great machines looming in the distance. Buildings rose high into the air, some gutted like a fish or skeletal like trees. No ponies were visible and no sound besides the roaring of the machines could be heard. Something screeched in the distance and it made Roseluck wince. What had they come to?

“We’re going to need to move quickly but quietly. We’ll keep an eye out for anything dangerous or interesting as we go, but the Stranger is after something here. We need to find it first.” Braeburn said decisively.

Roseluck’s ears were down and her tail between her legs, but she followed Braeburn as he led the way into the broken ruins of whatever city this was. Manehatten? Las Pegasus? The buildings were tall, so there was something going on with them. It was one of those places, assuredly. One of those but abandoned. Empty.

Maybe destroyed…?

Roseluck looked behind her. The door was gone, as she had expected. She wished it wasn’t going to be that way, but somehow she knew following Braeburn was going to get her killed somehow. She really hoped her service back home would be nice. With bells and too many flowers choking the streets outside the chapel. Did she even leave a mark with her life? Was growing roses all she was good at and known for?

“I hope they know I loved them, even if we were always competing,” Roseluck said, more to herself than her two new companions.

Derpy stopped and looked back at her with one yellow eye. She slowed to let Braeburn get ahead and fell in beside Roseluck. “Your friends back home?” she said.

Roseluck nodded. “We competed selling flowers, but we all agreed that since we were selling different types of flowers it didn’t matter as much. We would sometimes joke about who sold the most, talk about what we thought they’d done with them, and bet on whose wife or marefriend would send them back with complaints.” Roseluck smiled and looked at the crumbling ground beneath her feet. The cobbles were in a terrible state of disrepair. “Daisy usually won. Ponies don’t know how to handle lilies, and roses are too… elegant to be eaten in a sandwich for some ponies. Daisies are just accessible, pretty, and tasty. The perfect combination.”


“I like muffins,” Derpy said simply. She was prancing along, like they hadn’t just entered a desolate wasteland filled with dying buildings choked with foliage. If anypony had lived here, it was long enough ago that nature had taken over again, yet it didn’t seem to bother Derpy.

“Where are you from, Derpy?” Braeburn was just trucking along ahead of them, intent on something in the distance. The only reason Roseluck was following him was because she had no better ideas, but Braeburn seemed to think he didn’t know the area. Where was he even taking them?

“I’m from Manehatten.” Derpy kicked a stone. It bounced and rattled down the berm to rest in a puddle of stagnant water. “It’s a nice town. I worked at a bookstore. It was fun. I was allowed to eat on the job.” She beamed at Roseluck with a wide smile.

“And how did you get mixed up with Braeburn, here?” She nodded her head at the stallion ahead of them.

Roseluck took a good look at the stallion now that they weren’t being attacked. He was solid, like an earth pony should be, with thick, powerful hooves graced with steel shoes on the ends. Excellent make, they were better quality than anything else she’d seen in the city where she lived.

Derpy flapped her wings and hopped, fluttering a little. Her flight was wobbly, but she enjoyed it and kicked her legs. “Oh, the Strange guy came into the shop looking for books on rare artifacts and the like or something. Something that was supposed to hold a lot of things together. Maybe it was even about glue?” Derpy pondered while she flaps. One wing dipped low and she wavered in place, kicking wildly to right herself, then smiled at Rose. “I don’t know!”

“And why are you following him, then? He barely seems to know where he’s going, much less what he’s looking for. Why would you stay?” Roseluck stepped on something that crunched. A quick glance and she saw bones, though whether they were of a pony or not, she didn’t know. She hastily brought her eyes back up to Braeburn.

Derpy fluttered aimlessly about, carefree in the dead place and seemingly happy. “Because anypony that wants to take homes away from ponies shouldn’t be allowed! He’s a mean stallion!”

“I agree, I guess…” Something skittered by in the bushes. Roseluck jumped and hurried forward to catch up to Braeburn.

“Mr… Braeburn, was it? What plans do you have?” Roseluck pried.

Braeburn glanced at her and pulled his hat down over his eyes a little further. “My plans are my own, lass.” He turned back to the broken trail in front of them.

Roseluck growled. “Your plans aren’t your own, we’re here too. Derpy, and me. I’m Roseluck, by the way. Thank you so much for bringing that Stranger into my home,” she said sarcastically. “I didn’t want my table broken, plates smashed, or windows destroyed, yet you did. You drew me in, ordered me about, broke my home, and are chasing after someone who found me first. He wanted something from me, and now you do, too. What is it, and why?”

“I ain’t talkin’ about it.” She grabbed his vest, he pulled away. “I said I ain’t talking about it!”

“And I’m saying, you don’t have a choice! You talk, or I force it out of you!”

“Guys, please don’t fight,” Derpy said plaintively from behind and above them.

“I’m not going to talk about until I know you’re not some agent for the Stranger! He wanted you, but I don’t know why!”


“He wanted inside my house! You know that!” Roseluck grabbed at his vest again. She tried to pull him in closer, but he was a stallion, and an earth pony at that. He stood still and just reached out with a shoe-clad hoof and shoved her away.

“He wanted the door that appeared near you. I don’t’ know how he knows, but he does. Doors appear near everypony that matters in this… scheme of his. Whether you’re benevolent, malevolent, or merely a bystander is still up in the air.”

“You think that after he destroyed my family’s ancestral home that I would be on his side?” Roseluck couldn’t believe what she was hearing! This Stranger attacked her in her home, and this stallion had the gall to blame her for being wicked! “I want to see him pay for what he did, and if Derpy is right, then there’s more at stake than just my home!”

“There’s certainly more at stake than just your home, but…” Braeburn turned to look at one of the buildings. He squinted.

“But…?” Roseluck prompted.

“Shut up.” Braeburn raised a hoof.

“Buuuut…?” Roseluck persisted in her questioning. She wasn’t going to be ignored so easily. “You can’t avoid talking about this forever.”

“Shut up!” Braeburn pointed a hoof up at a nearby building. Roseluck followed his hoof and immediately snapped her mouth shut. Something was up there, and it was moving.

Derpy did a spin in the air and flopped lazily to the ground next to Braeburn and followed his hoof too. Her eyes widened. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not a good thing, whatever it is.” Braeburn squinted. “It’s moving, and it walks, but it’s not walking the normal way you would expect. It’s too shiny, too. I’ve never seen the like.”

“Is it dangerous?” Roseluck asked.

“I couldn’t tell you. It’s just… walking, but let’s not get any closer.”

They watched it as they walked past the building. It was a limber thing, and once it had crossed the length of the floor it turned around and went back, pacing the length of the broken building’s wall. Sometimes it would disappear behind a portion of wall that still stood, or it would have to clamber over a pile of stone rubble, but it never slowed in its walk. It could pace along the length and up the pile and around obstacles at its same speed the entire time. Its legs were long and spindly, and it seemed to lengthen them when it stepped over some debris or rotting piles of things as it walked. There was no indication it possessed any curiosity, as it didn’t look anywhere but straight ahead in its patrol, as though that was its entire purpose for existing; to walk the length of that building. When they left it behind, Roseluck was glad for it. The unsettling appearance left a bad taste in her mouth.

“That thing was kind of neat. Strange, but neat,” Derpy said cheerfully. Both Roseluck and Braeburn gave her a look. Neither of them had appreciated the sight, because if there was one, there were bound to be more. Creatures weren’t born alone, and where there was one child, there would be multiples, even if they didn’t all come from the same parent. The thing would have siblings, and they would be nearby. That one might have been stupid or aimless, but that wasn’t any guarantee the others would be. They’d have to keep an eye out.

“I didn’t like it,” Roseluck responded.


“Hrm,” was all Braeburn said. He had turned away from the building and focused his eyes ahead along the broken cobbled street. Roseluck didn’t know what he was thinking about, but she feared it was the same thing she was worried about; that there would be more.

“Where are we going?” Roseluck asked. It was much the same question as what they were doing, but she wanted answers, and he wasn’t giving any.

“We’re going to chase the Stranger if you insist on following me. If you’re that worried about getting home, the chances that we will encounter another door are higher the longer we follow him.”

“You know this is the direction he went?” Roseluck looked down the road. The sun – which appeared to be setting – was in this direction. It was a pale yellow, more of a bone white than a true yellow at all, but it loomed large in the distance. It was the best approximation of direction she had at the moment.

“I do. I can see him there, in the distance.”

“You can?” Roseluck squinted. She saw nothing that looked like a pony, even a covered one. She saw rocks and scraggly trees and the skeletons of buildings, but no ponies.

Braeburn nodded. “He’s there, always just out of reach. When I do catch him, he’s usually chasing or harassing somepony else, leaving me little time to try and stop him.” Braeburn looked down at his hooves, plodding along on the cobbles. “When I do reach him and lash out, he merely survives. He turns to smoke and seeps away from me, disappears into another door or around another corner. He turns ponies against me, making enemies of allies, mistaken allies of enemies, and tricks me into choosing the wrong path. He claims my fate is tied to his, and I can’t refute it.”

Despite her squinting, Roseluck couldn’t see anything that might have been the Stranger, much less a pony at all. She had to blink and look away when the haziness of the sun blinded her momentarily, but when she looked back to blink, there was still nothing. “I don’t think there’s actually anything there, but I’ll stick with you for now, because I can’t get home the way I came.”

“If you hate it all so much, why did you even come?” Braeburn’s hat was down low over his eyes, protecting him from the setting sun’s rays, but he looked over at her. She couldn’t see his face but was sure he was scowling.

“Because I wasn’t doing anything at home. I might as well be working on something more important, like the end of everyone’s homes or whatever this is. It sounded big, and all I’ve done my whole life is sell flowers and look pretty. I thought I could help.” She squinted at the setting sun again, and something large and spindly raced across the orb in the distance. She was reminded of that creature in the building and she shuddered.

“I’m here cause I can’t abide bad ponies!” Derpy added, though no one had asked. Both Braeburn and Roseluck looked at her with furrowed brows. Derpy was unaffected by either one. “If nopony else is gonna stop him, then I’m gonna!”

“That’s… admirable, Derpy, just understand that this isn’t going to be a pleasant trip,” Braeburn said. Roseluck too note that he was nicer to Derpy than he was to her. She hoped it was only because Derpy seemed so naïve and not because he had plans for her. His actions left her concerned for everyone’s safety, including her own.


Roseluck heaved a silent sigh and pointed out into the distance. “Whatever happens, we’re all here, and we’re all looking for something. I wanted excitement, I got it. I can’t keep complaining. At least let’s get a march on and find someplace to hide before night falls? I don’t want to imagine what will happen if those… things are nocturnal.”

“A good point,” Braeburn conceded. “Let’s get out of the city or near the outskirts, and hunker down in a building for the night.”

“Thank you.”


Braeburn was the first to hear the cries. At first he wasn’t sure what it was, but the longer it went on the more convinced he was it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. There was somepony out there, crying for help, or simply crying, he wasn’t sure which. He poked Roseluck, who was nearest to him. “You hear that?”

The mare sat up, groaning from the discomfort of their tiny hole in the wall (literally), they had picked to sleep in. “What am I hearing?”

“Somepony crying.” His ears swiveled, trying to pick out where it was coming from.

Roseluck sat up and swiveled her own ears, trying to pick up what he was claiming to have heard. She merely shrugged and looked at him. “I don’t hear anything. Is this another one of those things the Stranger does to you?”

“No, this is something else. I’m going to go look, see if I can pinpoint it.”

She grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him down the moment he tried to stand up. “Oh no you don’t!” She hissed. “It’s pitch-black out there, and who knows where or what those creatures are? You need to wait here and let that other pony fend for themselves! If they last till daylight, so be it!”

Braeburn shoved her away and growled. “I was once told that I was going to abandon somepony to fate once, and I will not do it again! If I let the Stranger take me from myself, then I have nothing left, and I will be naught more than machine! I am going out there, and I am going to investigate, and there is nothing you can do to stop me, understand?” He shoved her away and climbed out of the hole, leaving Derpy still sleeping, and Roseluck alone.

Outside, the world was dark, and a dusty wind blew. There were no clouds to block the sky, but there were fewer stars than he remembered there being in Equestria’s skies. Had he left Equestria and been transported to some other world? Or was this merely one of many futures, far ahead in time, to when there were no longer ponies, only animals and those strange… monstrous things. And if he was in some other world, where was this world and what was in it that the Stranger might need? If it was one of the pillars that he needed to destroy the world, how had such a pillar escaped the devastation already wreaked upon this place by whomever had come before?

The question burned in Braeburn’s mind as he trotted away. He couldn’t remain sneaky with the steel shoes he had on his hooves, but he was ready to fight most anything that came at him. He glanced back at a hissing noise to see Roseluck cowering in the hole, glaring out at him. She didn’t leave, instead staring at the darkness all around. He was fine with that, it meant he could hunt the crying without her begging him to return to safety.


The sound in question was a quiet sobbing. Like a foal was nearby. He didn’t think it possible a foal could survive in this dark, terrible wasteland, but on the off chance there was one, he needed to put forth the effort to save it no matter what. Especially after Scootaloo.

Scootaloo weighed on his mind nigh constantly. After he had fallen unconscious and woken up on the beach, even after that stone crab had snipped off his ear, he still thought about what he had done. He was fated to abandon her to her death because he was obsessed with the Stranger. Fated. Like he had no choice. He was going to do it no matter what, and that was the end of it. He was fated to kill her through his own inaction and greed, just as he was fated to chase the Stranger. It was all written out ahead of time, and he had no say. Maybe he was fated to climb out of his hole and look for the foal that was here now, even! The thought made him angry, and he kicked a rock. It clattered down a little incline. Something wheezed down in the hole, and long, spindly legs stilted up out of the pit into which the rock had fallen.

One of those strange, long-legged creatures clattered up and out, turning a tilted head to look at him. It was metal, glimmering in the moonlight, with a long, silvery tail that waved like in the sea’s currents. Its face was featureless save its eyes and a set of holes in the front. It looked at him and blinked, then let loose a braying whine like a mule. It moved sinuously toward him, clanking like the Friendship Express as it raced toward him. Braeburn steadied himself and prepared to fight!