'Cause it's hotter than Tartarus! Yeah, it's hotter than hell...

Draw Slate downed his whiskey, hissing and slamming the shot glass onto the bar. He smacked his lips together and gave a sidelong glance to the grey unicorn wiping glasses.

"Sure ya ain't hidin' the really good stuff, Whistler?"

The unicorn snorted and shook his head, the hint of a wry smile gracing his mouth.

Oh, I'm a prisoner of looooove!

Draw turned, cheering and clopping his hooves together for the songstress on stage. She gave the room a slight bow over her guitar, smiling and brushing back a lock of powder-blue mane almost the same color as him.

"Thank ya kindly," she said in a voice like honey. "Whistler's givin' me the signal, so I'm sorry to say this next song'll be the last." She laughed over the audience's disappointed moans until they died down. "Y'all wanna hear 'Sons and Daughters of Equestria'?"

The crowd cheered and stamped their hooves. The room seemed to brighten, and a thrill ran through Draw. Sure, Starlit Serenade was easy on the eyes, and she had a great voice, but hearing her sing that song was the whole reason he kept coming back to Bar None.

Starlit strummed her guitar once, turned a knob, strummed it again and smiled. "All right, then. Y'all know the words for the bridge, right?" She was answered by enthusiastic hooting. "Okay, here we go!"

Draw closed his eyes as the first chords of the guitar wafted through the air. This was the way Sons and Daughters was meant to be played: by a lone pony in a smoky smalltown tavern.

Oh, you sons of Equestria...

He lost himself in the lyrics, the gentle sway of Starlit's voice and the strum of the guitar. It was a song that spoke to him, that spoke through him as surely as the rocks did through his earth pony blood. He kept his eyes closed until the bridge. He opened his mouth and sang along with the other revelers.

"We're all sons and daughters of Equestria, and we raise our glasses high!"

They did so, whooping and hollering.

"We praise Celestia's name! For we are one and the same when she lifts our spirits to the sky!"

It wasn't the best rendition Draw had ever heard, but that sort of wasn't the point. One more chorus, and the song ended.

Starlit took her final bow, gathered up the bits tossed on stage, and stepped down into the crowd. Stallions left and right clamored for the right to buy her a drink, but she brushed them off with a laugh and took a seat down the bar from Draw. He opened his mouth just a moment too late.

"Scotch, Whistler," she said. "Neat."

Draw frowned. He turned back to his empty glass, twiddling it between his hooves for a moment. His reflection frowned up at him from the countertop. He drew in a breath.

"Buy your drink, ma'am?"

Magenta eyes flashed under long lashes as she smiled at him. "Ain't it traditional to offer before the lady orders?"

Her voice was so much different in person. On stage, she was a presence, an idol elevated above the common pony. But while she was still the same cotton candy color up close, and her long mane still flowed like a whirlwind, she was just another pony. She sounded like him.

"Forgive me for bein' a mite slow on the draw," he said languidly, and held his glass aloft. "A few too many."

She laughed. "Well, it's mighty neighborly of ya anyway, darlin'. There's somethin' about you, I think. What's your name?"

He pulled bits from his belt and laid them on the counter as the drink moved over to her in Whistler's magic. "Draw Slate."

"Miner?"

"Sure am, an' mighty proud of it."

She inclined her head, raised her glass to him and took a long pull. Then she slid from the bar stool, moseyed over, and took the one next to him.

"So's I can hear ya better," she said, smiling enigmatically.

"I just wanted to say, Miss Serenade—"

"Barre," she corrected.

He blinked, not sure if the alcohol was finally addling his mind. "Come again?"

"Starlit Serenade is my stage name," she said, as a teacher might explain to a foal. "Barre Chord's my real name. I don't use it when performin', because..." She swept a hoof at their surroundings. "It's a mite on-the-nose, as they say."

He nodded dumbly. "Well, Miss Barre, I just wanted to say thank you for singin' 'Sons and Daughters' the way you done. That song means a lot to me, and well, it just ain't the same when a rock band plays it."

She laughed again, shaking her head as she sipped at her scotch. "Kicking Jenny. I'll give 'em credit for restorin' interest in the song and makin' it rousin', but you're right. The way they play, it lacks somethin'."

"Not with you, though," he gushed. That she turned toward him told him he was perhaps not coming on too strongly.

"It means a lot to me as well, since you mention it." She took another drink, examining herself in the mirror behind the bar. "Would you believe my ancestor wrote it?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

She nodded, not looking at him. "My ten-greats-grandfather, Major Key. Mama taught me a lot of the song's history. Got a copy of the original manuscript, even, from back in the early Celestial Period."

"I'll drink to that." He raised his glass and Whistler refilled it, giving him an eyebrow that said 'No more tonight.' Draw grinned at the barkeep, tapped his glass against hers, and downed it in one gulp. "So I'm guessin' you were around when they changed it."

"I was." Her bobbed and she closed her eyes. "Grandpappy signed off on the changes. Rushed 'em out, they did, but from what I hear, Princess Luna appreciates what was done for her, and how much changin' the lyrics means to generations of ponies across Equestria."

"They done ruined it, if'n ya ask me," said a third voice to her side. A scruffy red and brown earth stallion sitting at a table glared up at them through a drunken haze. He scooted a wobbly chair over to the row of barstools.

"Mind your manners, Fire Damp," Draw said, glowering at the other stallion. "I never took ya for no eavesdropper."

"You hush up," Fire Damp said, pointing at Draw. He turned back to Starlit. "Some so-called Princess nopony never heard of shows up, and suddenly we owe her everythin'. I don't think so. Shame on you and your kin for degradin' our traditions for the likes o' her!"

"Fire Damp, I swear—"

Draw cut off as Barre held up a hoof. "Mister Fire Damp," she said, slowly and calmly, "I can understand you're upset. But did you know that weren't the first time 'Sons and Daughters' was changed? Original copies of the lyrics show that the line 'in the mountains' was originally 'in the palace'. Now tell me you'd rather sing about placing unicorns above pegasi and us earth ponies and maybe I'll accept that Grandpappy was wrong to put Luna into the song."

Fire Damp scowled and stood. "That don't matter nohow. The words ain't changed in forever!" He voice rose. "I don't praise no Luna for ferryin' no souls o' the dead, you hear?"

Whistler spoke, his voice low yet cutting effortlessly through the tirade. "Fire Damp, you best watch yourself..."

Barre shook her head. "Did you know those lyrics weren't in the original either? Major Key heard a bar full of ponies, just like this one, sing them during a performance, right out of the blue! He was so moved, he put the words into the official version."

"You hush up!" Fire Damp moved forward, pressing his hoof against Barre's shoulder. Draw was on him in a flash, pushing him against the bar counter.

"Didn't your pappy teach you never to put a hoof on a mare?"

"Least I got one!" Fire Damp shouted, then threw an awkward punch at Draw's head. Draw stood there as it went completely wide, then glanced at Whistler.

"I seen it," the unicorn said, still polishing a glass.

Draw nodded, blocked Fire Damp's next punch, and kneed him in the gut. Fire Damp doubled over, but caught a second wind, wrapping his forelegs around Draw's waist and tackling him into the barstools. Draw hit him in the shoulder until he backed off, then gave him a hoof to the jaw for good measure.

"Time to git along home, Fire Damp," he huffed.

"Don't let the lady miss out on the fun, boys," Barre said coyly. Draw turned, eyes wide, to see her grip Fire Damp by the shoulders, rear back, and headbutt him onto the floor.

The tavern erupted in raucous applause.

Fire Damp lay on the floor for nearly a minute before pushing himself up on one leg. Through his unswollen eye, he glared up at the two of them.

"Mark my words, I ain't gonna forget this."

Barre rolled her eyes. "If you're upset about the 'sward' line, I'll have to agree with you. Them's the breaks though, hon, I'm sorry to say. Ain't a crime to sing the original, now!"

"Git on outta here, Fire Damp," Whistler said calmly, "'fore I whistle for Keys to git you out himself."

Fire Damp coughed and dragged himself toward the door a few paces before he was able to stand. Even then, he wobbled to the side and favored one of his rear legs.

"Don't mess with tradition," he growled to no one in particular. "It'll bite you in the end."

With that, he left, the swinging double doors marking his passage.

"Last call!" Whistler said, and a few ponies stood to get a final drink.

Barre scooped up hers, downed it, and grabbed her guitar. Smiling, she turned to Draw and said, "Walk a lady home?"

---

"How do you feel about the changes, Mister Slate?"

"Please, just 'Draw', Miss Barre."

"Then just 'Barre', Draw."

He laughed. "All right, Barre. Well, Elements' honest truth, I weren't too pleased with the change neither, but I never found it in myself to get worked up over 'em like Fire Damp and some others do. I got used to 'em after a while."

Barre hmm'd. "Not Faithful, I take it?"

He shook his head. "Used to be. My Pa was till he passed."

"What changed?"

Draw looked up at the night sky, starless on account of the slate gray clouds ever-present around the Smoky Mountains.

"Summer Sun Celebration when I was six. Princess Celestia came to Tall Tale." He smiled, snorting a laugh. "I dunno, somethin' 'bout seein' her up close, knowin' she was a pony and not a legend, well... After that, it just didn't seem right treatin' her as anythin' else." He turned to Barre. "I heard tell she don't care much for the Faithful. Prefers bein' thought of as a pony and a leader, not a goddess."

Barre nodded. "Yeah, I heard that too. An' I'm sorry to hear 'bout your Pa."

Draw shrugged. "Happened the year after. Hazards of minin' and all. Been so long, it don't hurt like it used to."

"I lost my father when I was young, too, 'cept I never knew him." She tutted. "Your mother?"

"Left him when I was a foal." He sighed. "Never knew 'er. But that never bothered me none. Pa was good to me an' all, and when he passed, well, I became a son of Equestria." He couldn't help smiling as he said it.

Her eyes widened. "That why you like the song so much?" The smile was evident in her voice.

"Sure is. I take it real serious-like, bein' a son of Equestria." He cleared his throat. "Well, not serious enough that I can't accept a new princess as my foster parent, anyway."

She laughed, and a dent in the road made her stumble into him, which only made her laugh harder. They whooped and laughed for a few minutes, banging into one another and getting knocked around the curb and lampposts.

"But enough about me," he said, "what about you? I see you play all the time, are you Tall Tale stock too?"

"Not me, sir!" She gave him a playful grin. "I was raised in Vanhoover."

"Ahh, the Applewood of the North!" His smile faded as he noted her sudden dourness. "Sorry, was it somethin' I said?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry, it's not your fault." She sighed. "'Applewood of the North' didn't work out, is all. I came here hopin' to get in touch with my earth pony roots and spread some musical cheer."

He had to raise an eyebrow at that. "You couldn't make it? Well now, they done threw away a diamond, from where I'm standin'! Their loss is our eternal gain!"

She stopped, and he did as well. She placed a hoof on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. Hers twinkled in the scattered street lights and her smile was accompanied by a soft blush.

"You're too sweet, Draw. I'm glad I took you up on the drink." She fixed his gaze with hers, tilted her head ever so slightly. "There's just somethin' about you I can't put my hoof on..."

She leaned forward, kissed his cheek, and patted him on the shoulder. Turning, she made her way up the steps of the brownstone he hadn't realized they'd stopped at. The bitterness of the late fall night air made itself known to him then.

"Call on me sometime, all right?" she called from the door. "Think I'd like to get to know you better."

His smile couldn't have been wider. "I'll do just that, ma'am."

He watched as her swaying pink flanks and baby blue tail disappeared into the building.

---

"Word 'round town is you done found yourself a fillyfriend, Draw Slate!"

Draw was glad for the rock dust blackening his face; it hid the blush creeping up his cheeks as the others in the tunnel hooted and laughed. The large mare who had started the conversation grinned at him like a cat awaiting a mouse's fatal misstep.

"Aw, naw, Truss," he said, hardly believing his own words, "ain't nothin' like that now, really."

An older grey unicorn further up the tunnel whistled, the light on his helmet bobbing over the walls. "Ain't what I done heard!"

"C'mon, Lignite..."

Lignite shook his head. "The bright star o' Gunite Minin' caught hisself a showmare!"

"She's that cute filly what sings all them songs at the bars!" somepony else further down the tunnel agreed.

Another round of hooting and a few claps on Draw's back followed.

"It's 'bout time you done settled down, loner," Roof Truss said, turning back to her seam. "We'll give ya Tartarus for it, but you best believe we're all happy to hear it."

"I do," Draw said, laughing and shaking his head.

In the corner of his eye, he noticed Fire Damp. The dark stallion had been glaring over his shoulder at Draw. When Draw turned toward him, Fire Damp moved back to his seam.

"I do indeed..."

---

"Say cheese!"

The camera flashed and Draw blinked the stars away. "Why're we doin' this again?"

Barre rolled her eyes and grinned. "Mama ain't bugged me 'bout grandfoals in a while. Won't it be a nice surprise when she sees the hunky stallion I hooked?"

He gave her a wry smile. "Don'tcha think that's movin' a mite fast? S'only been a week. We ain't even, uh..."

His attempt to search his mind for the next milestone in their relationship was interrupted by a pressure against his lips. Eyes wide, he stared at the pink mare and attempted to contemplate the timing of their first kiss. His mind went blank. The camera flashed again.

"Now we have," she whispered, giving him a smirk beneath half-lidded eyes.

His gape coalesced into a smile. "Might be I'd like another of those, ma'am."

She stuck her tongue out at him and took off running. "Gotta catch me first, cowpoke!"

He fumbled for a second before chasing her down the street, laughing. Eventually, he did catch her.

---

"Seen Fire Damp of late?"

Whistler's question caught Draw off guard, mostly due to the barkeep's usual taciturn nature. Draw sipped at his scotch, watching Barre — Starlit — sing out of the corner of his eye. He turned to Whistler, and regarded him with a long and dubious glance.

"He ain't late to the mines ever. Can't say as I keep tabs on him outside work."

Whistler was quiet for a minute before responding. "Ain't seen him 'round here since..." He inclined his head to the door. "Just makes a body wonder, is all."

Draw shrugged. "Maybe he got the hint that he ain't welcome here if'n he's gonna carry on like he done. Don't pay it no nevermind, Whistler."

The unicorn grunted. Draw turned back to the stage. He applauded when the song was over and joined in on 'Sons and Daughters', but try as he might, his enjoyment of the evening had vanished. When Barre finished her set and joined him, she frowned, giving him a light prod. After seeing his face, she skipped her usual post-performance drink in lieu of heading home early.

"What's wrong?" she asked when they were halfway back to her place.

He shook his head. "Somethin' Whistler said's botherin' me. Maybe it's nothin'."

"Ain't nothin' if you're this down about it." She stopped and placed a hoof on his side. "What is it?"

Draw chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes scanning up and down the road. "Fire Damp. Whistler said he ain't seen him in a while. And I can't help thinkin' that ain't no good."

Barre frowned. "He been causin' more trouble since that one night?"

Draw shook his head. "No, leastways not where I seen him, but that's just it." He lifted his head. "I don't see him but at the bars and in the mine. And if he ain't been at one of those, who knows what he's up to?"

"He got anythin' personal against you, hon?" Barre tilted her head, peering at him as they continued their walk.

"Eh, I dunno. Maybe." Draw let out a breath. "Can't say as we've ever been friends, nor enemies. I guess... Might be he was peeved when I got promoted to supervisor, but it ain't like he never said nothin' either way 'bout it." His frown deepened. "And that was near a year ago! Don't seem reasonable to wait a year to get back at somepony, if'n he was fixin' to."

"I got another gig at Salty's tomorrow night," she said. "I'll see if'n I can't spot him in the crowd."

"Don't." He stopped and grabbed her hoof, drawing her in close. An intensity seized him, hitched his breath, and brought the world into sharp relief. He focused on her face, which was larger than life before his eyes. It took him a long moment to register her expression as shock.

Forcing himself to relax and smile, he said, "Just don't confront him or nothin', okay?" She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hoof. "I know, I know, you can take care of yourself, I just..." He shook his head. "I don't wanna make things worse. The more I think about it, the more it seems like maybe he ain't bein' reasonable."

Barre broke eye contact, frowning. When she looked back at him, she nodded. "All right. Might could be nothin' at all. Maybe we should put it from our minds, huh?"

She stroked his face, and they shared a weak chuckle. He leaned forward and they kissed.

"C'mon. Let's get you home."

---

The next day, Draw went to work as normal. Fire Damp was there and seemed neither more or less ill-tempered than normal. After the shift bell rang, everypony moseyed out to their usual activities. Draw went home to eat and shower, then stopped at Bar None for a quick drink and to ask Whistler's forgiveness for his impending wrongdoing as a regular.

It wasn't that Draw had anything against Salty's, or the Phoenix in the south of town. Truth be told, all three watering holes were fairly similar. Bar None had a "Mild West Saloon" motif, the Phoenix was the only one that served food, but otherwise they were interchangeable. It just happened that Whistler's place was close to his digs, and he liked the atmosphere and the usual company there. When a place fit a pony like that, well, why bother changing?

So Draw was a little surprised as he walked into Salty's to see just how different it was: close, dark, smoky and a tad oppressive. The clientele was mostly unicorns, as opposed to Bar None's earth pony majority. It wasn't out of any old-fashioned notion of tribal separation, just plain that's-how-it-is-ness, and nopony minded either way. This was the bar for the workers downtown, who spent their days pretending to be pleasant and uptight, and afterward needed an excuse to unwind, play cards, and get drunk as horseapples.

Fittingly, the unicorn bar was tended by an earth pony, a burly blue stallion with a milky eye. Draw ordered a drink, just to be neighborly, and scanned the crowd. Picking out any one pony from among those crowding the round tables was going to be impossible, especially a pony with dark coloring like Fire Damp's. The bartender just shrugged when Draw asked about him. Mentioning tonight's entertainment got him a derisive laugh.

"That one ain't showin'," the barkeep said in a voice that sounded like he gargled with glass shards every morning. "Said somethin' about not feelin' well. Mares, am I right?"

Draw left a few bits beside his half-empty glass and didn't wait to hear anything else from the bartender.

---

The door to Barre's apartment opened after his sixth round of knocking. Her tear-stained cheeks confirmed his worst fears.

"What'd Fire Damp do to you?" he growled. "I swear if he hurt you, I'll—"

"Stop," she said quietly. "It's not him. You should come inside."

The rage that was building in his chest stuck there. Confused, he followed her inside.

Her apartment was a mess of magazines, junk mail and ashtrays. In one corner, a guitar, different than the one he'd seen her play, rested behind a music stand. The curtains were open but it was already dark out, owing less to the clouds than to the impending onset of winter. A rogue's gallery of potted plants slumped by the windows. On the wall was a framed portrait of an older mare, her coat a light lavender, her pale red mane done up in a loose bun.

"What was your Pa's name?" Barre asked, drawing his attention toward the kitchenette. She leaned against the wall, regarding him with a look of fathomless sadness.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Draw stayed fixed.

"What." She swallowed. "Was his name?"

"Slate Bar." He shrugged. "Why?"

She stepped forward, a letter outstretched in her hoof. "I heard back from Mama today."

He took it, confusion plain on his face. "What's this about?"

"Just read it." Her voice was paper. She shrank back against the wall, a balloon with the air let out.

His gaze lingered on her a moment, then he turned to the letter. As he read, that tight ball of rage in his chest chilled and dropped into his stomach. By the end, his mouth was dry and his hooves numb.

"B-but that means..."

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears. "You're my brother." She started to sob, holding a hoof against her mouth, and for a long moment, Draw was speechless and still.

"Hey now," he said at last, moving towards her. "What're you carryin' on about?"

"Think about what we been doin', Draw!" she shouted, rounding on him. "Ponies seen us kissin' like lovers and carryin' on out in public! You know word gets around real fast! What'll they say when they find out..." Her face crumpled and she collapsed on the floor.

She had a point: some ponies might get the wrong idea. But somehow, all he could focus on was "I have a sister."

A sister who needed him to say the right thing, right now.

He moved to her and gathered her into his arms. She resisted at first, but returned the embrace after a few moments, burying her face against his neck.

"Shh, c'mon," he said, stroking her mane. "You ain't done nothin' I ain't done, and... And it's nopony's business who we are or what we do. We didn't do nothin' wrong, leastways, and fact is, we didn't know!

"Look, forget other ponies for a second. Right now, all I can think about is I got a talented, remarkable mare for a sister, and I want nothin' in the world but to see she gets the best life she can ask for."

She hiccuped and drew back, looking up at him with shining eyes.

He smiled lopsidedly at her. "I ain't had nopony but myself since Pa died. You don't know... I wish I'd known about you sooner. Maybe it wouldn't-a been so lonely. Maybe I coulda..." He drew a hoof over his face.

"He's the real reason I stopped bein' Faithful, y'know."

She sniffed. "He was?"

Draw nodded. "When he died, I kept waitin' and waitin' for Celestia to show up and ferry his soul off to the afterlife. I waited by his body. They put him in a coffin, I waited there too. Then I waited by his grave for a week until the orphanage came and took me in. She never showed up."

His laugh was wry. "You see her in person, she's every bit as radiant and beautiful and... and amazin' as the legends tell. But she ain't no goddess, leastways not no goddess o' life. A while after that, I couldn't forgive her, and I hated that song." He shook his head slowly. "But eventually, I realized, none o' that mattered. The song was about ponies like me, no matter what they believed, and I was part o' somethin' real special."

He took a few long, deep breaths.

"Right 'round the time I got my cutie mark, there was this... Diamond dog kid, he got put into the orphanage. Dogs ain't too common 'round here these days, but back then, they was, a mite. He told us his pack, that means his family, just up and dumped him on account of he wasn't big and strong and his parents didn't want him." He sighed. "Dunno what happened to him. But he done taught me that I had an opportunity, a chance at a real life even though mine was a little shook up. So I made the best of it."

He grinned at her. "And that's what we gotta do now. Don't think of it like you lost a special somepony. I may be biased, but I think gettin' a brother's a mite more important, wouldn't you say?"

She swallowed and forced a smile out. "I guess maybe you're right. But what about the others? How'll we explain?"

"Just tell 'em the truth. No point in hidin', it'll come out like you said."

They were quiet for a bit, then Barre started crying again. Abashed, Draw drew her in for a hug, only to notice she was smiling.

"You're right," she whispered, hugging him tightly. He rocked her softly, until at length, she said, "What was he like? Our Pa?"

Draw sniffed. "I'll tell you all about him sometime soon."

"Draw?"

He looked down at her. She seemed very small and vulnerable in that instant, and he knew, deep down, that the attraction which had brought them together in the first place hadn't been anything lustful. It was deeper, more intuitive, more magical.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He smiled, and his tears flowed freely. "I love you too, Barre."

Somehow, it had never felt easier saying those words to a pony.

---

"Mister Highwall, I don't understand!"

Draw stared alternately at the brown earth stallion in front of him and the piece of paper in his hoof. Highwall shifted, his high-backed chair squeaking, and leaned against his desk.

"Draw Slate, you've worked for this company for twelve years now, and done a good job in all that time. Exemplary, I might say. But my great-grandfather founded Gunite's Mining Company on certain principals. Principals, as I have come to understand it, that you do not follow."

Draw's jaw dropped. "Mister Highwall, if this is about my sister, I can—"

"Yes, yes, I've heard it all already." Highwall waved a hoof, leaning back in his chair. "Fact is, I don't give a darn if you're planning to marry a cactus. You're a good employee and a good shaft supervisor. Unfortunately, in this world, good sometimes isn't enough, and ponies around town are talking."

"What're they sayin'?" Draw's face darkened.

"Don't be daft, you know darn well what they're saying, Draw. And it wouldn't make a lick of difference if ponies on town council weren't saying the same things." Highwall let out a long breath, puffing out his cheeks. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Draw. You can hate me if you want, I won't mind. But fact is, I've gotta let you go or risk undoing all my great-grandfather sacrificed to start this business."

"But I've worked so hard here! I even got my cutie mark—"

"It's a bucket of rocks, Draw. Plenty of other companies need ponies good at hauling rocks. Just not Gunite. Likely nowhere else in Tall Tale." Highwall removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry to say, neither you nor Miss Serenade has a future here anymore."

After a lengthy, tense silence, Draw said, "Who'll you get to replace me?"

"Roof Truss."

Draw grunted.

Highwall sighed. "Draw, if you need anything, let me know and I'll see if I can't help. Just, keep it on the down low, if you know what I mean."

Draw looked at the paper again. The figure at the bottom was a month's salary, with a little extra thrown in. His eyes hardened and he gripped it tighter.

"No thank you, Mister Highwall," he said tersely, standing. "I think you've done enough."

Highwall only sighed as Draw Slate left his office.

Outside, Draw ran into Roof Truss, Lignite and a few others from his shaft. Their eyes were moist and full of questions.

"Tell us it ain't true," said Lignite quietly. "They ain't just lettin' ya go, is they?"

"'S tru— true," Draw said.

"Goldurn," Truss said, stomping a hoof. "Let us in there! We'll sort this out with Mister Highwall for sure."

Draw stood before them, head hanging low, staring at the ground. At times like this in his life, when he'd been brought low, he would try to think of the song. He gritted his teeth and willed the melody into his heart. A tremor ran through his body. Slowly, he lifted his head and faced them all.

He took a deep breath. "Thank y'all for supportin' me, but this ends now. I'm leavin'."

He strode forth, head high, and the others followed behind him.

"Where will you go?" Truss asked. "What'll you do?"

He nodded, more to himself than anything. "I've got a few ideas."

As they made their way to the edge of the mining area, Draw noticed Fire Damp watching from the shadows, a sickly grin on his face.

"Don't think I don't see you, Fire Damp," Draw said loudly. "You just stay there an' think 'bout what you done, now."

"You messed with tradition, Draw Slate!" Fire Damp shouted back. "You messed with it, and it done bit you in the bee-hind!"

"Just gimme the word, Draw," Truss growled. Draw only shook his head.

"I'll give ya a word, all right." Draw smirked. "Word from Mister Highwall is you're gonna replace me as supervisor. So make sure you don't go too hard on Fire Damp in the tunnels."

Truss frowned at him. He looked at her until her eyes widened and a smile crept across her face. She nodded slowly, and he nodded back.

"Will do, chief," she said, saluting him.

Draw paused before the gate and turned back to the small crowd of ponies he'd gathered.

"I ain't much good at farewells," he said. "So I just wanna say, good luck to y'all, and thanks again." After a pause, he added, "We're all sons and daughters of Equestria, after all."

The ponies as one straightened, and in a clear voice, began to sing the bridge from the song.

"We are sons and daughters of Equestria, and we raise our glasses high!" They each lifted a hoof. "We praise Celestia's name, for we are one and the same when she lifts our spirits to the sky!"

It was the best rendition of the song Draw had ever heard. When he left the mining yard, he had tears in his eyes.

---

"So, where do we go from here?"

Barre said it more to the train tracks than to Draw. The platform was lonely, with only his oversized duffel, her two bags and pair of guitar cases, and the ticket taker to keep them company. The early morning air was chilly, and Draw kept glancing at his sister out of the corner of his eye.

He thought maybe she was still sore at him from before. He didn't get her. Shouldn't she be happy that he wasn't taking this hard? That they'd found each other, when they hadn't even known to look? That he had enough saved up from living on his own for so long that they would be able to get along in Vanhoover without relying on their mother?

Mother. That was not a word he'd thought he'd ever get to say. He had to admit, he was mostly looking forward to seeing her. From all that Barre had told him, she sounded like a smart cookie; he just hoped she wouldn't be disappointed in her only son being a displaced miner. It wasn't like he minded being one, just that he knew how some ponies got.

"Draw?"

"Oh, sorry, I was thinkin'." He scratched the back of his neck. "What'd you say?"

She rolled her eyes. "I said, where do we go from here? Ain't neither of us got a job, Mama ain't gonna be able to support the two of us, and I..." She choked off whatever she had planned to say.

"You're still not sure the Applewood of the North has a place for you," he muttered, drawing a dark glare from her. He put on a smile and placed his hoof on her shoulder.

"Sorry if I been too optimistic lately."

She snorted. "About time you admit it."

He grinned. "It's weird, like I'm just sailin' through fog or somethin' and nothin' matters to me." Hastily, he added, "Well, not nothin' nothin'. I got you."

She smiled at last.

"All I know is," he said, "wherever we're goin', we're goin' there together. All right?"

He held his hoof out to her, and she took it. "All right."