//------------------------------// // Epilogue: The Vagabond // Story: The Man With Two Names // by Tarot Card //------------------------------// The train station lay at the base of an empty valley. The tracks were never so close to the Cherry's plantation, Walker thought. He had a shovel in one hand. Walker rode his thumb along the edge, rubbing the residue between his fingers. The edge was coated in dirt and coagulated blood. The whole spade was covered, he realized. Beyond him, he saw the bodies of Lyra, Pokey Pierce, and his brother Abe, lined up neatly on the ground. It was a queer sight, but Walker felt only a macabre curiosity. Gently, he went to Lyra, and nudged her side with his foot. Lyra looked so peaceful, like she was sleeping. He didn't want to disturb her. He stepped over her, and towards Abe, whose eyes were open, staring into the cloudless sky. He laid on his back, wearing a cotton t-shirt, white as bleached bone. Walker prodded Abe's cheek with the shovel, leaving a smear of blood and soil on his face. “Abe?” His brother turned his gaze towards him. Walker expected a look of betrayal, but he seemed more sad and disappointed than anything else. Walker let out a nervous chuckle. “What, don't tell me you're mute too,” he said. Abe rolled on his side, turning his back to Walker. Dead men tell no tales, Walker thought to himself. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw Abe's back dripping crimson, his brother's blood seeping into soil. Walker suddenly felt ill, upon comprehending the blood on his shovel. He started towards the field. Maybe tilling fresh soil, given time, could cleanse the blood off. Before he could hop the fence to the field, he heard the whistle of a train. The same ridiculous, ginger bread train that Cheerilee took to get back to Appleloosa was now stopped in the station, a unicorn beckoning him towards the boxcar. Walker felt in his pocket and produced a yellow token. It had the outline of a train. He turned the coin between his fingers. The other side bore the same insignia on his forearm, the two crossed shepherd crooks. Curious, he looked down on his left arm. In his waking life, Luna's mark was black and solid; but now the two shepherd's crooks were an angry red, itching and throbbing like a burn that was beginning to blister. Now that he was certain he was in a dream, he breathed a sigh of relief, but he did not allow himself to drift into blissful unconsciousness. He'd gone to sleep with a purpose, and wished to remain lucid for Luna's nightly visit. He sat down on the ledge of the platform, and laid the shovel across his lap. While he waited for the princess of the night, his mind began to wander to the cherry farm. He could probably make a home of it, living there with Cheerilee's father and sister (Cherry Seed's, he reminded himself. It had been a month since she left back for Ponyville, and resumed her life as Cheerilee). Her father was finally warming up to him, he mused. When he first arrived at their farm bloody and roughed up, Spades probably would have turned him away right then and there had Cherry Seed not vouched for him. He showed her Luna's note, and she grudgingly accepted his wild tale. Explaining to Cherry Seed what had happened had afforded him a night in the guest room, a hot shower, and Spade's old Hoofington Raiders t-shirt. The next morning, Cheerilee showed him a newspaper about the riot. Walker's conscience got the better of him, and he told his story to the entire household, showing them the royal letter. Spade once again mulled over his options, and quietly told Walker he would be sleeping in the barn from now on, far away from him and his daughters. Walker graciously accepted the accommodations, even though he was heavily aware of the irony of a pony telling him to sleep in a barn. From that moment on, he made a point of helping wherever he could, whenever he could. If there was one thing Walker loathed, it was becoming a freeloader. After a couple of weeks, he built a rapport with Spades. Its hard to hold misgivings against someone who spends an entire week helping you fix up the harvester and thresher machines, or helps polish all of the silver-ware, or chops fire wood to warm a house he won't be sleeping in. Of course, when Spade's oldest daughter, Black Cherry and her kin visited for Hearth's warming Eve, he was instructed to stay in the barn and out of sight. Cherry Blossom, the youngest of the daughters, a cream colored mare with a dusty pink mane, was kind enough to bring him hot food from the family dinner up to the loft in the barn. He thanked her graciously. The holiday cuisine was odd, heavy on oats and mashed carrots, but he ate it anyways. It was either that, or another meal of peanut butter and cherry jelly sandwich. The rest of the time he spent wondering if he should celebrate his own version of the holiday. He briefly considered building a manger, but instead decided to whittle a stick into some semblance of a candy cane. Anything to keep himself occupied. When he finished, he made another, and so on. Cherry Seed came to visit during a spare moment, and he gave her one of his creations. “Just like your mark,” she said. He hadn't realized. He tried making other things, Christmas trees, people, ponies. He was whittling a bust of a unicorn when the accidental slip of the hand shaved off just a bit more of her horn than he meant. Suddenly, he felt weary. He placed the piece of wood down, and buried himself into the spare quilt Spades had given him. That night Luna had to quell his nightmares. In the distance, Walker spotted the alicorn floating towards him. Luna touched down, eying the bodies laid out on the ground warily. “Is something the matter?” Walker asked. He got up slowly. “Forgive me, I am still not used to the content of your dreams. They are far more... grim than most ponies',” Luna said. She took his nightmares in stride, bloody, or otherwise. What truly unnerved her was that even his calm dreams had so many disturbing elements. The human looked down at the train, and then the shovel in his hands. “Is Lyra awake yet?” Walker asked. In the distance, the dream Lyra lifted her head up, looking at the two of them blankly. “She has not been conscious for three months,” she said gently. The green mare closed her eyes and her head slumped back to the ground. Luna didn't seem to notice. “If anything were to change I would be the first one to tell you. Fear not, for Loose Leaf and I are working to gather evidence to prove your innocence.” Walker didn't feel too innocent about anything anymore. “I'm asking not because I need her testimony. I'm asking because she's my friend.” “As you should. But just because we can not help Lyra does not mean we should not help you.” “I'd rather have Lyra be awake,” he muttered. Luna cast a glance at the dream Lyra again, and then at the field behind them. “How are you faring on Spade's orchard? This is the first I've seen you dream of it.” He sighed. “Well enough, I suppose. They're nice folk, but It's been quiet since Cherry Seed left back for Ponyville.” Her eyes brightened. “You mean the one that changed her name to Cheerilee? Loose Leaf just sent me her second testimony.” Walker rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm. “At least somepony's putting in a good word for me.” “You would not expect what ponies are saying of you.” He scoffed. “I've seen plenty of that in the news.” Luna cocked an eyebrow. “Cherry Seed, she was kind enough to go down to the trading post every week or so, and bring back a newspaper for me. So far its been about how a 'strange and interesting creature' caused a riot in Ponyville and vanished.” “More or less all of Ponyville is under scrutiny because of these events.” Walker didn't seem to hear her. “'Murderer', 'foal-eater', 'minion of Discord', I've read it all. And Spike keeps on politicizing the whole thing to be about his movement.” "In the courts, some speak of 'Jeremiah the Pariah'. The name Jeremiah Walker is starting to gain some infamy. Have you remained undiscovered? I fear these stories are spreading too quickly.” He glanced over at the figure waiting inside one of the box carts. “About that...” Luna glared. “Tell me...” ~ ~ ~ “Mr. Walker?” Cherry Blossom's sing-song voice called. “Do you have a moment?” Faster than he cared to admit, he scrambled to his feet and descended the ladder. Cherry Blossom was wearing a tool belt that almost covered her waterwheel cutie mark. She was relatively young, Walker realized; it was only a matter of time before she struck out on her own to pursue her talent, just like her sister. “Did that unicorn leave yet?” “Well, not exactly. She busted up her wagon somethin' awful though, and I was wondering if you could take a look at it,” she said. She unfastened the belt, and slung it over a peg on the wall “I would've fixed it myself, but its a problem with the axle.” “Sure. Where is she?” She bit her lip hesitantly. “Well, she's right out there, but we should bring the wagon in here to work on. Luna said to make sure nopony sees you.” “I guess you're right. Bring the wagon in here, and we'll see--” “What could possibly be taking so long?” a haughty voice rang out. Walker swiveled his head just in time to see a unicorn mare with a wizard's hat strut inside. He made eye contact with her, and briefly considered hiding behind the nearest barrel. “I told you to not come in here! Why the heck aren't you waiting by the porch?” Cherry Blossom asked, more than a hint of annoyance in her voice. The unicorn harrumphed and adjusted her hat. Walker noticed mud covering her hooves. She wasn't a farm pony, the star spangled cape and cap made that much clear. “It's common knowledge that whenever somepony tells you not go into the barn, it's because they're hiding zombies, or because they're cannibals,” she said matter of factly, lifting the lid off one of the crates and peering inside. Cherry Blossom gave an exasperated groan. “Just cause you read some silly comic doesn't give you the right to go snooping around!” “And what's so special about him?” She threw a hoof in the human's direction. “Isn't he just some helper-mokey?” “Um, I'm a minotaur,” Walker said quickly. The unicorn cocked a suspicious eyebrow. “Minotaur?” “Yes.” ~ ~ ~ Luna was rubbing her temples with her hooves. “You threw away your disguise, to help change a wheel.” Walker frowned. “Well, not intentionally.” “And then you try to convince her that you're a minotaur? Walker, just by letting her see you on this farm, you have ruined any chance of safety you might have.” “I'm not so sure...” ~ ~ ~ Cherry blossom spoke up. “Look, if we're gonna fix your wagon, you gotta promise to not tell a soul anything about him. You don't mention he was here, you don't even know who he is. Are we clear?” She prodded the unicorn with her hoof. The unicorn rolled her eyes, and blew a white lock of hair away from her face. “Yes, if you insist, Trixie will abide by your silly requests.” Cherry Blossom shook her head “I can't deal with her. Walker, you kick her off the farm anytime you like.” She walked out of the barn. Walker shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, still processing the situation. After a moment he said, “So, let's get that wagon in here.” She telekinetically pulled the wagon into the barn. A gaudily painted thing that was falling into disrepair. “What seems to be the problem, Miss...” She cleared her throat and gestured to the fading paint. The Great and Powerful Trixie. He scratched his head. That wasn't anything like the pony names he'd seen before. “Trixie, what brings you to the Cherry's farm?” “The damned wheel broke five miles down the road. This was the closest place I could find.” He inspected the detached wheel. A ragged chunk of the axle still clung to it. He examined the underbelly of the cart. The bottom was a mess of hastily tacked on boards, bent nails, duct tape and a myriad of other amateur repairs. Sure enough, the wooden axle was splintered, and effectively destroyed. More than that, the iron bands holding the rear and front axle to the wagon were wickedly bent, having embedded themselves in what was left of the wooden pole, preventing rotation. He squirmed out from under the wagon. “The wheel is the least of our problems.” Trixie didn't seem to hear him. Instead, she was staring at his boots. “I've never seen a minotaur wear such long boots.” “Well, I do. Look, could we just focus—” She stepped onto the side of his boot, pressing it against ground with her hoof. “Could you please get off my foot?” he barked. Trixie smirked as she stepped off of him. “Especially since, you know, minotaurs stand on hooves. For that matter, I've never seen a minotaur with a cutie mark.” She took his arm in her telekinetic grasp, and examined the sigil he bore on his forearm. “Two canes? Is that why they call you Walker? Is your special talent walking, or something?” He yanked his arm back. “You know, you're asking a hell of a lot of questions. Do you want your god damned wagon fixed or not?” He glared at her until she looked down at her own hooves. “Trixie did not realize how serious you were about your secrets.” Fuming, he turned back to the cart, and inspected the wreck before him for a silent moment. “And they're not canes. They're shepherd crooks,” he added hotly. Trixie gave a wan smile. “Noted.” She sat down, and allowed him to inspect his work. “Honestly I'm surprised this thing is still in one piece. What do you do that puts your wagon through so much wear and tear?” Trixie shrugged. “Trixie is on the road a lot. I haven't had time for proper repairs.” “It looks like you crashed it a few times.” “There were some... damages last year.” “What kind of damages?” Walker asked. “Major damages. Ursa Major damages,” she said, sullen. “What's this lever?” he asked, feeling along the underside of the wagon. Her eyes went wide. “Wait! Don't—” Before Trixie could stop him, Walker unlatched it, and the top of the wagon swung open, smashing a crate or two with a drop down stage. Pipes and horns flipped on hinges, and blasted pyrotechnics. The two of them yelped and dove for cover as a roman candle ricocheted off of a support beam and off of the walls. More went off until the entire barn was being spattered in sparks. Trixie managed to magically grip as many of the fireworks as she could, and let them burn out mid-air. Walker went around stomping out any glowing embers he found. Trixie joined, using her magic to sweep any burning debris out of the barn and into the mud. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Walker's hood was catching fire. “Walker!” she shouted. She quickly conjured a bucket of water, and dumped it over him. He swore loudly as he was splashed. He felt the singed and soaked hood, muttering obscenities. He took off his hoodie, and used the dampened cloth to put out the last of the fires. Finally, when all was extinguished, the two sat panting, backs against the wall. Walker swiped his finger on a charred spot on a nearby post. “Well, Spades will probably have my hide for this.” The unicorn gave an apologetic grimace. “Its... not supposed to do that, exactly.” “What exactly is it you do?” he asked suspiciously. Trixie raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn't want me speaking.” He sighed. “In the interest of not burning down the barn, we can talk. Just no questions about me personally. Now, why are you carting around this death trap?” “Very well. I am a showmare.” It was Walker's turn to be confused. “You're Jewish?” “Trixie is a traveling magician, a master of illusion, abjuration and evocation.” For show, she flared her cape and magicked a cloud of colored smoke behind her. “And a magician needs a stage as great as she. It just so happens that mine must be portable.” She flashed a cocky grin. “I see,” Walker said, scratching his chin. She walked around the stage, placing her hat on a nearby barrel. “This wagon, its more than just a place to sleep. It's part of Trixie's act. It's been part of the act since I left home. We've been through a lot together.” For a brief moment, her air of bravado vanished. Gently, she placed a hoof on the side of the wagon, and looked at the lettering on the cart. The glittery paint chipped where she touched it, leaving exposed wood. There was a split running down the board. The unicorn turned to the human. “Trixie would very much appreciate it if you could stop the fireworks from discharging when the stage comes down.” “I have absolutely no idea how to do that. I don't even know if I can fix the moving parts.” He gestured to the unfolded stage, now occupying half the barn. Trixie winced. “Could you just, maybe fix the wheels? I just need to get to the next town, earn some more money for the rest of the repairs.” Walker doubted it would even make it to the next town, wheeled or not. “It would take months and thousands of bits to fix this. You'd be better off salvaging the parts.” He thought that she would yell at him, but instead, she cast sullen eyes downward. “This cart, I know it's not in tip top shape, but it means a lot to me. If I have to spend some money to get her back to her former glory, or if I have to bring her to a junk yard, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. But until then, I have to stay on the road, and I need your help to get moving again.” It was a fool's errand. But then again, he didn't have much of anything on his to-do list. It was either humor the mare or go back to staring at the rafters. Besides, he was enjoying the diversion, even if it cost him his hoodie. “Just remove anything that explodes,” Walker sighed. Trixie nearly squealed with delight. She concentrated, and telekinetically pulled more fireworks out of various tubes, slots and crevices. After a minute or two she finished assembling a pile of neatly stacked ordnance. With some difficulty, the two pushed the stage back into its upright and locked position. “If we're just fixing the wheel, then all we need is a new axle and some brackets.” Trixie looked around her, at all the tools and bits of equipment hung on the walls, in barrels and boxes. “And I don't suppose that there are any in here?” “Well, there is one way to find out.” Silently they rummaged around the barn. He felt uneasy with an unfamiliar pony around him, and the words did not come to him easily. Still, he felt questions forming on the tip of his tongue. He only had Spades and Cherry Blossom for company and they were off the farm doing errands as often as not. “So, is there a lot of money in being a traveling magician?” “Not as much as there used to be. I used to make a route between Trottingham and Ponyville. I've been trying to find a new audience as of late. I have to keep the odd job here or there.” Walker frowned. “I've never seen you around Ponyville before.” Trixie gave him an odd look. “I haven't been there for more than a year.” Walker just realized what he said. He tried to play it cool. “I guess I missed you when I was visiting,” he remarked cryptically. “What made you stop coming?” “I'm not exactly 'allowed in Ponyville' anymore,” she said, bending her forehooves for air quotes. “Even if I was, I'd probably be laughed off of the stage.” “Hey, they're a bunch of assholes. They treated me like crap because I was a minotaur. I wouldn't go back there even if you paid me.” Trixie opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. “It doesn't surprise me. Those ponies are as rude and ignorant as they come. You've got the right idea Walker, avoiding that place.” “Didn't you say you used to travel through there all the time?” Walker asked. She gave no reply but looked away from him, and glowered. “What happened there?” he prodded. “Nothing,” she murmured quietly. She telekinetically picked up her hat and drew it so the brim covered her eyes. He had the good sense to realize he touched a nerve, and attempted to change the subject, despite his curiosity. He couldn't imagine for the life of him what it was, but it had cut her deep. Despite his best conversation starters, he couldn't coax her into speaking again. After a few minutes of silence he resigned himself to finding brackets. They looked for more than twenty minutes before he found some. “A couple of them are just a little too big, but we can fix that with some good, old-fashioned hammering,” he said, holding them up for her to see. Walker decided they might as well start by taking off the broken brackets. He pulled out the screwdriver from his old tool belt, while Trixie magicked the cart onto its side. As he removed the first bracket, a creaking noise spread throughout the barn. Before either of them could react, the base of the wagon splintered apart and fell into itself. Without the structural support, the topmost face slid off towards the right, leaving a ragged, splintery post. The meager contents of her wagon were exposed, a sleeping roll and a small dresser missing a drawer. “Um... we might need some more parts,” Walker said lamely. Trixie turned away from him. She was desperately trying to hold back tears. “Trixie?” She ran out of the barn. Walker gave chase. “Wait,” he called out. “I can fix this!” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Wait, Trixie, look at me. This is just a.. a setback. I can salvage parts from this wagon, and start making a new one for you. You can keep on going around, doing odd jobs to pay for it. In a month or two, you'll have a whole new wagon! I--” “You don't understand,” Trixie murmered. “I keep on trying and trying, and what does it get me? I'm a failure. Everypony saw me get upstaged by that unicorn Twilight Sparkle, and they all think I'm a dirty liar.” Walker was dumbfounded. “You know Twilight Sparkle?” “You mean the unicorn that insulted me, made me a laughingstock of an entire region? I can't even put on a show anywhere within twenty miles of Ponyville, I'll just get booed off stage. I'm a damned failure.” He sat down next to her, and tentatively placed his hand on her shoulder. “Between you and me, I hate her. Who does she think she is, the princess of making everyone's lives difficult?” Trixie's sobbing turned into chuckles. She wiped away a tear. “She'd probably start a riot if she thought she could write one of her friendship reports about it,” she said. The two went back and forth, finding all the insults and ribs they could imagine against Twilight, some more colorful than others. Walker surprised himself with the vitriol of some of his comments. As they were winding down, Trixie was still snorting at “Twilight? More like Cry-light”, but Walker realized he had his fist clenched so tight, he could see the deep welts left by his fingernails in the meat of his palm. “I hope somepony breaks her horn off,” he said quietly. He realized he'd been clenching his jaw for the last few minutes. Consciously, he took a deep breath. “And I thought that I didn't like her. That's a little dark.” “Sorry! I wasn't thinking. It's just that... She's the reason I didn't stay in Ponyville. She wanted me out of her sight. I guess she got her wish.” “That's rough, buddy,” She said. “But thank you. I needed that, even if it got a little catty.” “What did Twilight do to you?” “Do you know what its like to have your entire job depend on your reputation?” Walker was inclined to say yes, but let her continue speaking. “I may have exaggerated a bit about how I vanquished an Ursa Major. What do you know? A couple of boneheads bring around an Ursa Major, and tell me to vanquish it. Those things are ginormous. I'm not a beast tamer! It crushed my wagon. Twilight shows up out of nowhere, and takes care of the problem. Tells everyone she spent all day researching how to deal with giant bear-star things.” Walker grimaced. “You mean, she brought a dangerous creature to Ponyville just to show you up?” “She might as well have. And to what? Show me that I'm a braggart? To prove to Celestia that she can best me? I can't make a living anymore doing what I love, ponies don't respect me anymore. My parents have probably disowned me.” “That's not true. They'll still love you no matter what you do.” As the words left his mouth, he felt guilt gnawing at him. He wondered if his mom would still love him, if she knew everything he did. He wondered if folks who made it to heaven ever bothered visiting their kin in hell. “I just... I just feel like, I don't belong anywhere. This wagon, its the only home I have left. And now its in smithereens.” “Same... I can't even show my face anywhere in Equestria. And they'd probably throw me in jail if I ever went home.” he began fiddling with the beads of his necklace. She eyed him, noting his sullen appearance. “What happened?” “Its a long story. Another day, maybe.” “So, if you're not from Ponyville, where is home for a... minotaur like yourself?” He sighed. “Far away. Very far.” “Try me. Let me guess, Zebrica? Neighpon?” He chuckled softly. “West Virginia ring a bell?” “Why did you leave?” “That's getting personal, again.” “Well, do you like it here on this farm?” “No,” Walker said. “But it's the only place I can be.” Trixie chuckled softly. “You'd think so, until you've been on the road for a while. There's lots of places in Equestria, and most of them aren't half as bad as Ponyville.” “Where are you from Trixie?” “Tawleed, its a small town outside of Fillydelphia. Real nice place.” Walker sat down on a bale of hay. “How come you don't feel welcome there, then?” “I used to be a legend there. I come from a long line of powerful unicorns, and my parents wanted me to be special so much. When I did my first show, it was the first time my mom and dad said they were proud of me. But now, I'm less than a has-been. I'm a fraud. I get heckled off stage. I can't go home a full grown mare and a full grown failure. Not to them.” “How long have you been Trixie?” She looked at him. “And what do you mean by that?” “Ponies change their name all the time. I'm just curious what your original name was. Trixie doesn't seem like the kind of name you folk give their children.” “It's... more of a stage name now. I've been Trixie for five years, ever since I've been traveling.” “Why not use your real name?” “Bellatrix Lulamoon isn't a real crowd pleaser. Trixie is the pony everypony wants to see, wants to be. Trixie is the great and powerful, the pony who means something. Bellatrix is just some scrawny blue filly who was only good at disappointing her parents.” ~ ~ ~ “It seems that she has suffered in her own way,” Luna mused. “Yeah. We had a long talk after that.” ~ ~ ~ “I'm the second oldest of five brothers. My brother Danny's two years younger than me, he's probably my best friend, even if we fought a lot.” Trixie smiled. “I've got five sisters, three older, two younger. And three older brothers to boot. There were a lot of wrestling matches.” “Haha, we didn't fight physically. Well, sometimes, but not usually. Danny was always off doing stupid shit in high school, and I was always chewing his ear off about it. He was lucky it was me catching him, and not our father.” “What he did he do?” “He and his friends liked to steal traffic cones, paint graffiti on bridges, stuff like that. One time they were all jumping off roofs, and he broke his arm. I had to pick him up and bring him to a clinic. The thing is, we hid the cast for almost three days before our dad found out. Danny would keep his arm in a jacket, whenever Dad was home. He didn't find out till one of the congregation members asked him what happened to Danny; and when he found out, he was livid. He grounded everyone for three weeks, even though Kyle didn't even do anything. Thank god Danny straightened out after his sophomore year.” “They're not family if they don't drive you crazy sometimes,” Trixie mused tilting her head and looking at him curiously. “You sort of remind me of my sister, Flannel Fleece.” “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” “Good thing. She was my favorite of eight siblings.” “Is that a big family for ponies?” “Gigantic. Laundry days were a nightmare,” she said, eliciting a chuckle from Walker. “Flannel Fleece, she was the oldest. Dad put her in charge of delegating chores, and she always made of point of making sure I was doing laundry with her. We'd spend hours talking about anything. Colts, my cutie mark, our other siblings...” “Do ponies wear clothes that often?” “We did. Mom and Dad believe the clothes make the mare. Anytime we went anywhere as a family, everypony had to get dressed up at the same time. It got pretty hectic, and the whole town knew that no matter what the occasion, the Lulamoons would always be there half an hour later than planned.” Walker prodded the ground with a stick. “After my mom died, my family was kind of like that. Nobody knew when we were leaving or where anyone else was. Dad did the best he could working full time with five boys, but he didn't have the logistic ability she had. Somehow we all managed to get to church at the same time, one way or another.” “Do you miss them?” Trixie asked. “Yeah. More than I thought.” He turned to look at her. “What about you? When's the last time you've been home?” “A while.” “Are you going to visit them, now that your wagon is... you know,” Walker said, gesturing back to the barn. “I'm not sure. I miss them, a lot, but I can't go back yet. When my parents sent me off, they gave me this family heirloom. My grandpa, he was a traveling magician, and they repainted the cart, put my name on it. They told me, 'do great things,'. I can't disappoint them, I can't. So, I got to...” “'Do great things'?” Walker suggested. “Something like that. I need to have something to show for the last five years. Fame, fortune, at least a new spell. I need to come home with more than a smashed cart and a bad rap.” In the distance, the two heard a clangoring dinner bell. “Pa, Mr. Walker, supper's ready!” Cherry Blossom called. Walker lifted himself to his feet, and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I'm sure Spades won't care if you stay for dinner. We should probably talk to him, figure out if there's a hardware store nearby. Maybe there's still hope for your wagon.” He started walking towards the house, but stopped after a few paces. Trixie hadn't moved an inch. “Not hungry?” She looked at him thoughtfully, and then an evil grin spread across her face. “Walker?” “Yeah?” “I know you're that human everypony's been talking about.” He broke out into a cold sweat. “How did you know?” “It wasn't too hard to figure out. Keeping secrets just makes you look guilty. Plus, you're way too skinny to be a minotaur.” She poked his gut. He stared at her, dumbfounded, jaw gaping wide. Here he thought he had made a friend, but now it was all over. He only felt the same dull, defeated panic as a man marching towards the gallows. “So, now what? Are you going to turn me over to the mob? Demand a ransom? Kill me?” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Nah, you're good company. If you want, you can join me on the road.” She gave him a cocky grin. It took him a moment to process what she said. He didn't know whether to be relieved or upset. It was all he could manage to stare at her in disbelief. “So... is that a yes?” “Hello, you knew exactly who I was. I can't go out there, ponies will recognize me.” “They'll be looking for Walker the human, not Walker the minotaur,” she said, nudging his elbow. “You just said that I don't look like a minotaur,” he said. “True, but you don't look too much like the pictures they drew of you in the newspaper. Besides, I only assumed because you were acting so defensive.” Walker preferred to ignore the newspaper's drawings depicting him as a spindly, needle-clawed figure with vampire fangs. The photos they had of him were blurry or too distant to be sure. With his newly grown beard, and a fresh set of clothes, he might even be able to go unrecognized. “Do you think they'd believe me if I told them I was a Zebrican minotaur or something?” She shrugged. “I'd believe it.” “I don't want to be your exotic magical wonder, if that's what you're thinking,” he said crossly. “I was thinking of taking a break from magic shows, With my cart the way it is. Not like I was encountering much success,” she said with a grimace. “Then why take me with you?” “Like I said, you're good company. Besides, I think you'd like a change of scenery.” ~ ~ ~ “What did you tell her?” Luna asked, nonplussed. Part of her wondered if it would have been more discreet to have him live with the zebra in the Everfree forest. “I told her I'd sleep on it. I needed to talk to you first.” Frankly, she was more concerned with how easily he was found. “Walker, I fail to see what you will gain from following around an errant magician. It will only put you in harm's way. Please, bide your time until the report is done, when it is safe. Then, we shall plan what to do.” “Is a report going to keep me safe?” Walker asked. “I'd still have to stay out of sight, out of mind. I might be here for a long while.” “Perhaps.” “Is it atonement to live a quiet peaceful life? To just farm and be a simple man?” Luna had no answer. “I want to go home, Luna. Even if I'm not welcome anymore. I could be here until I die, farming, waiting for the day I can be sent back. I need to make amends for what I've done, not wait to be forgiven. I can't settle down here. It doesn't feel right.” Luna furrowed her brow in contemplation. “It is imperative you find your way back, but I am uncertain the solution is to leave safety to gallivant around Equestria.” “I've got your mark for protection, don't I? All the safety in the world doesn't mean anything if I'm not moving forward. All I'm doing here is watching the icicles melt.” “Do you truly believe this to be the best?” “I'm starting to see His plan now. I'm supposed to go out and do something. You said so yourself. When Fluttershy broke my arm, I should have kept moving along to the next town, but I stayed. God damn it, I stayed. When Abe was chosen by the church's council, I should have found a different congregation. Don't you see?” He gestured to the mark Luna had given him. “I'm a Wanderer now. All of my grief, past and present, it's because I try to put down roots. He's given me a sign now. I need to keep moving.” He looked toward Trixie, patiently waiting on the train. Walker continued. “Trixie, she's got a lot on her plate, but I think I can help her out just a little bit. I can be her friend and truth be told I need a friend too, more than ever. With her I can see this world and maybe change it for the better.” There was twinkle in the alicorn's eye. “My sister would approve of your inclinations towards friendship.” She examined the coin in Walker's hand. “Perhaps fate is calling you onward. Heaven knows a traveling companion would do this Bellatrix some good.” “You think it's a good idea?” “Do you know what Bellatrix seeks in her journey?” He thought for a moment. “I think she wants to feel worthy of love and admiration. But first, she has to be more honest with herself.” “And do you know what you seek, Jeremiah?” “I want to help her. And I want to help this world, so I might be forgiven.” She smiled. “You have my blessings.” That morning, Walker awoke with a smile for the first time in over half of a year. When he told the Cherry's his decision, they were kind enough to offer up some food for both Walker and Trixie, including a heel of bread, a bag of dried cherries, and three jars of peanut butter. Trixie thanked them and stuffed it all into her saddlebags before Walker could raise any objections. “God damned sick of peanut butter,” he muttered to himself. “When are you coming back for your wagon?” Spades asked. She pondered this for a moment. “I probably won't be,” she told them. Walker scratched his head. “I thought you loved that cart.” “We could, erm, sweep it into the corner, and hold it in case you ever want it back. It wouldn't be too much trouble,” Spades offered. Trixie turned to the human. “I've had a lot to sleep on last night. I've dragged that cart everywhere I went, through mud and over mountains. Maybe my wagon was just holding me back.” Walker blinked. Before he could respond, he felt a tap on his shoulder. “You might want this,” Cherry Blossom told him, tossing him a folded piece of cloth. He unraveled it. “A poncho?” She looked up at the overcast sky. “In case it rains out there.” “Thank you,” he said with a smile. “Good bye, Mr. Walker, and don't be a stranger!” Walker draped the navy blue wool over his shoulders, and picked up the walking stick he had found on his journey towards the orchard. His rucksack was half filled with the few intact clothes he had, the flute Lyra had given him, and a few days worth of food and water. He had good boots, and a long ways to go. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. Luna will make sure you are rewarded.” Spades chuckled. “You don't worry about that none. Just keep yourself out of trouble...” Walker grimaced upon hearing that. If the newspaper was anything to go by, he already had quite a reputation. “And if you ever get the itch for the farm life, you're welcome back any time.” Bellatrix smiled as they walked down the road. “They're nice.” “Sometimes it's hard to remember they're good folk in the world.” He paused. “Where are we headed, anyways?” “North.” “North?” “It's as good a direction as any,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “Seriously Trixie, where are we going?” “I hear there's a new city that showed up. The Crystal Empire. I figured we would meander our way up to there, if it's all the same to you.” “Well, it's as good a city as any,” he said, laughing. They walked through a cherry orchard, the branches bare. “Say, what should I call you, 'Walker'?” she said. “Certainly an odd name for minotaur, even one from West Virginia.” “Pardon?” “I told you my first name; it's only fair I know yours. Besides, we don't want somepony to confuse you with that human everypony's been talking about,” she said with a tell-tale wink. He puzzled a moment, looking at the sigil. “Cai...” He still could not determine if it was a blessing or curse. “Caleb. Caleb Walker.” He looked up again, only to see the the squat, wooden gate that marked the border of the property. The human hadn't set foot outside the orchard since he arrived. Hidden too long, he thought. “Well, Caleb, you ready?” she asked, casting a glance backwards. Not even fifteen feet beyond was the dirt road that would take him back into the land that shunned him, to the society of ponies that only thought of him as a pariah, or some martyr for Spike's political movement. Here he was, heading out into a cruel world, if only for the chance to do right by it. He peered off into the distance. The road veered off into some rocky hills, but beyond that he though he could see a sliver of sunlight off in the horizon. He gave a slight nod and stepped onto the road. “Come, I'll tell you everything about living free.”