//------------------------------// // Chapter 33: Sfilacci // Story: Princess Essenta // by Pone_Heap //------------------------------// "Last Chance" Stopover Arc Loress briefly went to the snack table; she wasn’t hungry but thirsty. Finding a nice cordial, she quaffed it nervously; she could see several stallions making a beeline for her. “Miss Resso…” Loress turned to the voice; it was Jaska. “Mr. Jaska!” she hadn’t expected to see him again. He looked sheepish, “I… regret my coarseness towards you earlier. I hoped we could talk a few minutes before the dance. And if you’d still have me…” She looked upon his kind face and smiled, “Mr. Jaska… I’d be honored to dance with you.” He looked glad, “Yes?” “Oh, my, yes…” she beamed. “This cordial’s amazing; let’s grab a pitcher and head outside.” “I just love walking down this staircase; I just feel so regal,” the mayor mused, leading the ponies upstairs. “Going back up, though… that’s another matter entirely!” The visitors laughed as the mayor poked at his ample gut. Clovis was up front with the mayor. He’d had to improvise. He’d never wanted the mayor to give a tour of any kind upstairs but when he was called to guide the tour it wasn’t the worst thing to happen; he wouldn’t have to sneak around, and he’d be able to better dictate what the ponies saw and didn't if he was running things. His plans kept on getting tossed up. He might’ve been able to fenagle the group to give the mares opportunity to continue their task or give them another chance if things had gone smoothly; but the three mares had found a secret room in the mayor’s study and were unable to conceal it. The room held something awful and it was gaping open for anypony to see. Guiding the tour in such a way to give the mares time to clear out was one thing… but completely avoiding the room? It was a given the office and library were on the agenda. The bedroom was certainly private… but the study? That was up to the mayor, Clovis figured. “Clovis!” the mayor looked to him. “When did they last renovate?” Clovis knew the answer; it was just before Delia cased the place, “Just over a year ago… right before the election. I think a few of the candidates just wanted to win so they could live here!” The mayor chuckled, “It’s quite a perk, Clovis!” Dechaa and Orni were content to be near the rear. It now seemed unlikely any teacups or possibly other things would find new shelter in which to take up but neither could stand any more of the mayor’s alcohol/dead carcass breath. “You must see the observation deck!” the mayor declared as they reached the top of the stairs and passed through the glass double-doors leading to the reception area. Clovis’s mind did a somersault; the mares had knocked out the stallion meant to be guarding the upstairs. Remembering the guard was on the floor, he almost lost his head. By the time Clovis regained his wits the mayor had already opened the door to the observation room. Shit… “What in blazes?! Dilo!” the mayor exclaimed. Clovis breathed a sigh of relief when he looked into the room; Dilo hadn’t fallen off the chair but had simply cracked his head on the table in front of him. Dilo wiped drool from his face, rubbing his head, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Mayor! I didn’t mean to-” The mayor waved it off, “Dilo, don’t worry. I’ve had you working 20 hours straight; I can’t believe you’ve been able to stay awake the whole day. I’m sorry.” Dilo hoofed his neck, “I know, Mr. Mayor… but the other guards are sick; it can’t be helped. I just can’t keep my eyes open.” “There’s no need; you’re relieved for the night,” the mayor said. “I’ll send your relief up in a few moments. Please go home to your family.” Dilo was most thankful, “Yessir! I’ll be ready to work right away in the morning.” “See that you are. We need you,” the mayor watched as Dilo left. Dechaa and Orni thought the same thing: the mayor was perhaps an evil colt-tickler, but he wasn’t wholly evil. It still wasn’t much solace… The mayor clapped his hooves, “Clovis! Would you do the honor of getting the lights?” “Will do,” Clovis’s horn glowed and the candles in the reception area lit up in response. “I think everypony would love to see the office. But first, there are a few things worth saying about the atrium.” “A splendid idea,” the mayor answered. “Lead the way, Clovis.” Clovis took a few moments with it; there were a few nice pieces of furniture and portraits of past mares and the city founders. Wowie… Clovis kept glancing at the door he knew protected from their view the three mares and whatever struggles with which they contended. Trying to shake off his worry, he led the group into the office. “I wish I could explain myself better, Miss Resso… You didn’t deserve to be treated that way,” Jaska looked over the city, sipping the cordial he shared with Loress. Leaning over the railing beside him, Loress sighed, “Believe me, Mr. Jaska, I could never know how it felt to see all that, but I think I can understand.” He fluffed his wings, shaking them out in the breeze; it caused his chains to jingle, “As you said, it’s just something I have a hard time getting over.” “I never said you… had to get over it, Mr. Jaska- I meant-” she flustered. He laughed, “Don’t fret, Miss… I think I know what you meant. You really are a kind young mare.” Loress didn’t really mean to change the topic so abruptly but said what entered her mind. “Ren… young Master Nior’s attendant… said the skylights inside were enchanted, allowing us a view of the stars,” Loress looked to the sky. “But with the light pollution out here about all we can see is the moon.” The city was indeed bright; it was like observing a display of fireworks- all the lights and colors. “I think I may hate this city just as much as you do, Miss,” Jaska said. “I don’t remember much about home- my real home- but I remember the stars. We had a little farm out west and oh, the view at night… Even as a little colt it took my breath away.” Loress did plenty of lying that night but she didn’t have to lie about some things, “In Terrow… the light pollution is minimal; unless you want to leave the city for a great view you can get a decent view from anywhere. I… miss it. Home…” He chuckled, “Home is home, but it’s not like you’ve been away all that long… and you’re going home soon enough, too.” This pained Loress enough to mist her eyes; she hadn’t seen home in three years, the next month, “I suppose…” Jaska didn’t want to bring it up, but, “How’s Sen?” Loress didn’t want to think about it, “I’ve been told she’s been coming out of it but…” “So, she’s still pretty out of it…” he finished for her. “Yes.” He pondered, “As I said earlier, I can’t judge you. The world is the way it is, and it’ll take more than a few ponies and a generation’s time, but I pray for the day that slavery is just a bad memory… for everypony.” This was unlikely and both of them knew it. “I wish I knew what to say,” Loress mourned. “You don’t have to say a thing… Still… the future isn’t hopeless as long as ponies like you exist.” She turned and smiled pleasantly at him, “You give me too much credit.” He put out his front leg, “Why don’t we have that dance, now? I can’t just keep a gem like you to myself; there’s- as you put- a line.” She slid her hoof through his offered leg, “Sounds nice.” The two rejoined the ball. Clovis began to worry as the tour of the library was petering out. Even with all his stalling and detailed shepherding he was running out of time; the mayor had an obligation to rejoin the party soon (whether he’d even remain at the party or not was another factor that cemented his decision to pull the mission earlier) and visiting the study wasn’t off the table. “The library contains the oldest collection of books this side of the mountains,” Clovis explained. A mare touring put it, “With all those savages skulking about in the tropics I wouldn’t be shocked if it was the only library of books south of the mountains!” The others ate this up; Clovis had to tolerate this to keep up appearances. He wanted to call up Delia, despite the agreement of her contacting him. Though he would warn her if all else failed and the mayor insisted on showing the study; he had little choice. Turns out he didn’t need to do a thing; the crystal ball glowed, unknown to the others, and he was very glad to hear the tap, tap, tap faintly sounding from his pocket. He almost gasped in relief; Delia and the mares had gotten the door closed, whatever that entailed. He’d give them five minutes to be safe and if the mayor wanted to show the study… no big whoop. They had the dirt Melchior wanted and it was possible to access it at their discretion. The mission was successful. Zyra choked back vomit; she couldn’t help it. But knowing they had the room otherwise spotless she managed to keep it down; they’d spent enough time cleaning up and more than enough time dealing with their discovery. She hoofed Wilka’s shoulder, “Can you stand?” The contents of the secret room had shocked Wilka to her core; she looked up with tears in her eyes and nodded weakly. Zyra helped her up, “Good. I’ll levitate you out of our exit, so don’t worry.” Delia looked to the bookcase; she couldn’t believe they’d gotten it shut again. They had something Melchior could use against the mayor, at least. Looking to Wilka, she wished the little Pegasus had never seen the things they’d uncovered. Not seeing would have been nice for all of them, really. The maid had grown to greatly admire the two mares; she kneaded Wilka’s shoulder, “You did good… Both of you did good. Are you ready to leave, Wilka?” Wilka again recognized Delia’s sympathy; the maid understood her, “Yes.” “Okay,” Delia took Wilka’s left and Zyra took the right and they led the little mare out. They could hear the ponies in the library but knew they still had a couple minutes, so they’d take their time ascending; they walked easily to the vestibule they’d used to enter. But upon reaching the vestibule the rope wasn’t the only thing they saw in the room. Clovis felt pretty good, telling the ponies about the map collection the library contained; he didn’t give a fuck about the maps but was ecstatic he wouldn’t have to explain to Melchior they’d come out with nothing to show. Melchior was an asshole but Clovis was confident the mares would be free by the end of the night. Then from the reception area, the clatter of hooves could be heard. “Hey you little fuckers! What’s going on?” an unwelcome and familiar voice boomed from outside. Clovis felt his balls disappear. “Oh, no…” he whispered. Delia closed the door to the office as quickly and quietly as she could and locked it. Zyra tried to keep quiet but was panting up a storm; she and Delia had to run with Wilka weighing them down. Propping the little Pegasus into a chair, Zyra blanched, “What’s he doing here?!” “Keep your voice down!” Delia hissed. “I have no fucking idea what he’s doing here!” “What do we do?” Zyra whispered. Delia gulped, “We have faith in Clovis…” The pony that had instigated the noise staggered around before Clovis and his tour, so drunk it was almost hard to fathom. “Party’s over, you cocksuckers!” Melchior crowed. “Unless I’m un-uninvited…” Clovis couldn’t believe his eyes: Melchior was covered in a little of everything, bearing evidence of the kind of night he must’ve had. He was cloaked in leaves, burs, twigs, shit, blood, and Heaven knows what else. There was a river, forest, and two swine farms between his estate and the mayor’s mansion and it seemed he’d crawled through them all. The shocked partygoers stared at Melchior as if he had appeared out of a bathtub drain with three chickens and a dildo (they were that shocked). Dechaa and Orni registered confusion more than anything else. Clovis thought and he thought fast; he waved to the tour, “Okay, everypony! Move along downstairs! Nothing to see up here!” There was something to see but they didn’t argue and began to file away. Melchior shouted, “I want them to see this! Where’re they all going?!” “Just a drunk guest!” Clovis called after them, grabbing his boss. “Move along!” The invitees left… other than Dechaa and Orni, who'd ducked behind a pillar. Once the other partygoers were gone they approached Clovis and Melchior. Melchior was fucked up, barely even able to hold up his head properly. Clovis looked to the girls, just as confused as they were. The mayor gaped, looking closely, “Melchior?!” Melchior took a swing at the mayor with his free hoof, missing by more than a few inches, “Yes, it’s me, you dick!” The mayor was flabbergasted, “Well, what are you doing here?!” Melchior appeared weak suddenly, “I needa sit…” Knowing the room to be “safe” Clovis pointed to the study, “Nior… Ren… Could one of you get the door?” The mayor turned, having not noticed the mares, “What are you still doing up here?” Orni had a plausible answer, “I’m a guest of Mr. Clovis, Mr. Mayor.” The mayor could live with that, “Well… alright.” They got Melchior inside where he collapsed into a chair. “Ah… nice chair,” Melchior snuggled in, soiling it with his grimy form. “Now that you’re nice and comfy, would you mind telling me what in Hell you’re doing here?!” the mayor spouted. Melchior sat up straight; his fierce eyes flared, “A job!” To the amazement of those present he made it to his hooves and stumbled across the room. Reaching the bookcase, Melchior leered at them all, “If you want a job done right… sometimes you gotta just do it personal-like!” Melchior hoofed a small book on one of the shelves. He was the only pony not surprised by the shelf moving out of the way. Downstairs, one of the stallions that had just left the tour pulled into an alcove; his eyes darting about, he pulled a tiny crystal ball from his pocket. “Wind calling Typhoon, Wind calling Typhoon,” he breathed into the ball. “Please respond.” A few seconds later a voice responded, “Wind, this is Typhoon.” Wind hissed, “Status?” Typhoon replied, “We’re waiting for the final word to infiltrate the mansion; we’re ready.” Wind whispered, “Halt the operation… Melchior’s not at the mansion; he’s with the mayor.” “At the ball?!” Typhoon sounded shocked. “Yes…” Wind smiled. “They’re upstairs.” “Our intel stated he’d been blacklisted from the event!” “Well, he’s crashed the party, it seems,” Wind mused; then he was deadly serious. “Get here fast and be ready; we’re improvising. I’ll keep you posted.” Zyra was wiping down Wilka’s brow; the little Pegasus was dozing. Then she heard two mares' screams; she recognized their owners as Dechaa and Orni. Delia knew what this meant just as much as Zyra. Mirroring the other’s sickened face, Delia said firmly, “Stay here… keep Wilka safe.” Zyra nodded. Steeling herself, Delia slipped out of the office after seeing the coast was clear. She walked the hoofful of steps it took to reach the study. Surely enough the bookcase was open and the only ponies in the study were Clovis, Dechaa, Orni, the Mayor, and Melchior. She shut the door behind her and locked it. Delia would’ve given a couple years of her life to not have seen what they’d uncovered behind the bookcase. Shackles hung from the ceiling, several chairs with restraints lined the walls, and untold numbers of horrible items greeted them. An iron maiden sat in one corner. There was a rack with pullies on either end. Long-dried body fluids, blood and other things, rested here and there, staining the fixtures. Many of the tools littering the place were unidentifiable in their purposes. And worst to be seen were the dried and decayed bodies of several ponies, obviously young fillies, crucified on the far wall. It was a torture chamber. Nopony could speak. They took in this appalling sight. Dechaa had vomited, Orni had collapsed, and Clovis was falling back into a chair. Delia stood, a hoof covering her muzzle; she wasn’t sure why… any such smell had long since dissipated. The mayor stood slack jawed and wet himself. Nopony could make a sound… other than Melchior. “Ha, ha, ha…” he began to chuckle. It sounded… un-Earthly, that laugh. His laughter increased to the point of him falling victim to a coughing fit. “There! You see?! This is the old ‘fuck- nest’ we used to keep! We ain’t used it in about 13 years, but it looks the same… That filly second from the left? We paid her father two gold coins for her!” The mayor’s jaw moved, “I… never…” Melchior cackled, lumbering over to the liquor cabinet, “No, you never would’ve known! Clovis and Delia sure didn’t know! I haven’t been in here for a few mayoral terms; the last few in charge didn’t… share in the pathos of the old entourage so we never told them. And nopony’s read most of these books in years, especially our semi-literate mayors who just use ‘em for decoration, so I figured I could spring this surprise on all of you! It kinda sucks to reveal this, but it’s not like I use the place anymore; it’s simply time to use it to my advantage.” The others listened, shocked and horrified. Melchior went on, “Listen, Mr. Mayor! I don’t give a blue fuck that you’re a colt-tickler. I know you are, but I also knew it’d be too hard to catch you at it and I never imagined Delia would be able to find this, so I came myself! You know about the little elevator that goes up the back, I trust? It comes out near the skylight the mares came down through.” Clovis and Delia were nonplussed; they hadn’t known about an elevator. “What…?” the mayor struggled to make words, though he knew about the elevator. “I sent Clovis, Delia, and a bunch of mares to look for evidence of your fetish or anything else to screw you with but it occurred to me after a few drinks that was too much trouble! Why complicate things when the easy solution’s so much more effective?” Melchior approached the mayor as best he could; his breath smelled of death. The mayor gulped, eyes darting between Melchior and the fillies on the back wall, “…?” “I’ll put it to you simple, Mr. Mayor… From now on, you answer to me!” “What…?” Melchior cuffed the mayor’s head as he harangued him, “‘What, what, what, what, what, what?’ You sound like some retard! You answer to me… or I reveal your ‘little secret’ that just opened up.” At this the mayor flared up, “Mine?! If you think that-!” Melchior had drawn himself a rum, “Oh, I think the city’ll care about the secret fuck-den in your study!” The mayor gave in quickly enough; he crumpled into the sofa, sobbing like a foal, “What do you want?!” The others looked on in horror, having retreated to the corners of the study. Melchior grinned; it wasn’t the fiendish grin he’d been showing them… it was the affable grin he’d first shown the girls, before revealing what he really was, “You know what I want.” He went up to the mayor and hissed in his ear, “I want that land…” The mayor was surprised; he’d expected Melchior wanted his heart on a platter or his balls on a plate, “The land?” Melchior stood back, taking a dram off the rum, “I’ll even pay the proper value of the place to the old family! I won’t fire any of the workers and we’ll build as we see fit!” The mayor’s “relief” was palpable, “Okay, I’ll pull the bill! The land’s yours! I’ll even make it public!” Clovis felt sick as he opened his mouth; he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore, “What were you going to announce to the ball once the tour was over?” The mayor blinked, bemused, “That we were going to be wheeling out a giant cake for everypony to share…” That was less malevolent than Clovis had believed, “Well… you can announce your decision regarding the land, too. We’ll clean up Mel and make a show of it… You’d best clean yourself up too.” If Clovis hated himself for this, it was harder to say what the girls thought… It was just too much… The mayor, taking one last look at the horrors the bookcase had been covering for the several months he’d been mayor and years previous, said, “Okay… Seal up this bookcase and I’ll see it done…” In the utility room housing the princess, Dechaa, Zyra, Wilka, Orni, and Delia sat in various spectrums of stunned; what a night it had been… None of them could say a word. The job was done, but… They’d managed to make it down the back elevator and taken the back way to Essenta but were done; they didn’t even want to move. Delia sat, wondering what they mayor kept hydrogen cyanide around for. She supposed it didn’t matter; it couldn’t have been worse than what had turned up. Perhaps the poison was from some time in the past, given what they’d seen of the current mayor. But that didn’t matter much, either. It seemed likely the mayor wasn’t the clever fellow she’d been pondering. They barely even responded when Clovis stumped in; they didn’t know to love him or loathe him. Clovis knew Delia and her two helpers had discovered the room; she’d told him and the others. He gulped, addressing the mares, “It’s done… Some of my crew are washing up Mel and…” The mares didn’t even look back; Clovis felt his head swim. “And Mel and the mayor will be coming down in a couple minutes to… make the announcement. I made a tonic… and it’s sobered Mel up, more or less.” The mares still sat, quite unresponsive. Clovis sighed; he wasn’t sure what to do at the moment but was thinking. He was about to leave. “Clovis…” a voice came. He turned, and was unsurprised to see Zyra sitting up the highest; he recalled she’d already seen Hell, “Yes, Zyra?” She asked him with no accusation or presumption… just exhausted misery, “What’s gonna happen now?” Clovis had always known Melchior to be wicked, but the things they’d seen and heard that night set his mind in stone, “This is the last thing I ever do for Melchior… Tonight… I’m taking my crew that wants it and we’re leaving this place. Anypony that wants to come with us… is free to do so. Anyplace but here… North, I figure… Not much choice.” Delia nodded numbly after a moment, “I’m in…” Clovis nodded, and turned to the company mares, “I… I cannot take back what’s happened… And I don’t expect forgiveness. But I will do everything I can to send you on your way. I’ve called ponies I’d trust with my life… my friends… back at the mansion; they’re freeing Ama as we speak and gathering your supplies. She may not need protecting, but… they’ll spirit Ama and your supplies here. I’ll see you out of here if it kills me. I no longer trust Melchior will honor his word; in fact, I no longer trust him…” They all nodded slowly. Clovis looked to his old friend, “Delia… I can have my crew gather your things as well.” The maid shook her head, “There’s nothing back there I want or need. I have a little money buried nearby I’ll grab. I wish we could bring some others but…” He finished for her, “They wouldn’t leave Melchior without a fuss… and we need to go immediately." There was no happiness, no congratulations… not even any relief. But they’d have time for relief later. For the time being, the mares prepared to move Essenta. If they wound up having to fight those faithful to Melchior… they’d do so. Clovis made his way out, “We go our separate ways for now; sneak out when you’re ready. Meet at the rendezvous point we discussed earlier.” Loress was enjoying herself immensely in the skilled hooves of Jaska; the first piece the house orchestra played was a long waltz. They twirled and dipped and laughed. The piece ended, and Jaska kissed her hoof, “My dear, it was such an honor.” “It was for me, too,” Loress simpered. “Well, I hope to dance with you again later, once the line dies down.” She gave a smile, “That’d be… Oh!” The orchestra was taking a break; the mayor was coming down the stairs with… Melchior? Jaska looked up, unaware of Loress’s shock, “Ah… here comes the mayor with his announcement!” Loress hid her confusion and locked front legs with Jaska, “Oh, I wonder what the surprise is!” The mayor reached halfway down the staircase; a magic amplifier was positioned there. Melchior leered, more or less sober, “Now… just as we discussed.” The mayor looked over the mass of ponies below; what he wouldn’t give to be ignorant of the secret room as they were. Figuring he might as well get it over with, the mayor began, “Everypony, hello again!” The crowd cheered; when the mayor had a special announcement, it was usually something good. “I have two things to share with you! First… our chefs have been working all day on this- a chocolate mousse cake big enough to feed everypony!” It was big enough for such a thing; several ponies wheeled it out to the roar of the partygoers. It wasn’t jewelry or anything exotic, but it was welcome. The mayor waited for the applause to die down before going on; he gulped, “It also pleases me to announce that Master Melchior will be assigned stewardship of the old orchard, effective tomorrow!” Melchior waved, a believable smile on his face. This wasn’t news anypony had been expecting to hear; the fight over the land had been ugly. But they were sheep and they gave a light, scattered applause. The confusion in the room was heavy but the deed was done. The mayor shook a little as he turned to Melchior; he was relieved that Melchior was at least looking satisfied. Melchior grinned at the mayor’s ghostly complexion, “Stewardship… I like the sound of that- good word! The sale of the land will happen soon enough.” The mayor nodded automatically, hearing the crowd as if it was far away. Melchior clapped a hoof on the mayor’s back, “Don’t look so glum, pal. There’s no reason this has to be unpleasant.” The mayor shuddered nonetheless. Melchior jostled his “pal”, “Hey, c’mon! Play your cards right and we’ll both make millions! The mayor was about to conclude his statement when something interrupted him. A dragon, the size of a couple of houses, crashed through the large skylight above; glass and crystal rained down on the party to many a shocked scream. The ballroom was expansive enough that the dragon was able to slow its descent with a flap of its wings; it came to a gentle rest at the bottom of the stairs. Ponies backed off from the area and looked on in perfect alarm, too freaked out to make further noise. The dragon’s red-tinted eyes regarded Melchior and the mayor; it blinked once before inhaling. The two stallions were rooted where they stood; Melchior didn’t have time to wet himself and the mayor already had upstairs, so he was empty. “Oh… shit…” Melchior managed. The dragon blew such a blast of fire from within the two stallions were vaporized. The crowd observed this, many presently soiling their clothes, as the dragon turned around; its steps shook the dust and remaining glass from above and punched holes in the stone staircase. The dragon spoke, “If I were you… I’d leave.” The partygoers took the dragon’s offer and ran screaming for the main doors; the staff quickly disappeared out any door they could. Wind was jostled as he fought his way to an alcove; he had to hold his crystal ball up to his ear to hear a thing over the racket of the panicked ponies. “-confirm! Wind, can you even hear me, damn it?! Did Death strike true? Please confirm!” Wind had to put the ball to his lips to make sure he was heard; he still had to yell, “Death struck true! Two rats with one torch!” “Get out of there; we’re letting Death have it out! Typhoon out!” Wind allowed himself to be swept up with the crowd and galloped towards the exit. The noise didn’t go unnoticed by the mares in the side room. The glass breaking, and the screaming got their attention but the quiet was almost as shocking. Then the sound of something burning reached them, followed by booms that shook the ground. “If I were you… I’d leave,” came a deep, booming voice. Before any of them could check the door, they heard the thunder of hundreds of sets of hooves and Clovis burst through the door. “Dragon!” he gasped. The racket had gotten their attention, but they were still sluggish; Delia looked up, “Huh?” “There’s a dragon out there! It just fried Melchior and the mayor!” “What?!” five mares cried out. “We need to go, now!” Clovis shouted. Dechaa nodded, recovering rather quickly, “Okay… Sen’s ready to move; we can go out-” Clovis shook his head, “We can’t get out that way! We’d be trampled trying to get her out through the ballroom!” Zyra jumped up, “I know this wall goes to the outside!” The little mage went about feeling the back wall. “Yes! Can you get through it?” Clovis wondered. “Help me find a weak spot! I can’t blast it; it’d cook us. But I can tunnel our way out. I just need a little time and I can make a hole big enough.” Delia sprang up, “That’s a plan!” Several of them set about testing the wall while Dechaa and Wilka watched over the princess. From her spot on the dance floor, Loress had seen all that had happened. And were the ponies around her ever in a rush to get the fuck outta there! Staring at the dragon, she was unyielding as ponies weaved around and crashed into her unshakeable body. Jaska hooved Loress and tried to run, “Miss Resso! We have to run!” But Loress wouldn’t budge; she was a Terran after all. She turned to him, “I need to find my friends…” “What?” he couldn’t hear her over the din. “Run, Mr. Jaska!” she pressed him into the surging crowd and saw him carried off; she hoped he’d manage to find his hooves. Loress didn’t mean to knock any ponies aside but she didn’t exactly watch her step as she barreled along. In the confusion she couldn’t see much of anything, but she tried to reach the utility room; she was reasonably sure where it was. In the side room Zyra had gone to work on a section of the wall deemed weakest; she wished to move faster but they were safe in there, for a time, at least, and she needed to be careful. Energy beams powerful enough to disintegrate stone took some concentration. Clovis watched, “The wall’s three feet thick here; at the rate you’re going… we should be fine. The rest would have to take his word; the commotion outside hadn’t let up. Outside, the dragon had apparently given into its instincts; it killed nopony else or even hurt any, but it lumbered about, messily eating the fallen crystal chandeliers and other gems around. There was a shitload of edibles scattered around and Loress could see the dragon getting worked up. She knew that within a moment the dragon would lose control and reason, giving into its lust for treasure and carnage. It wasn’t known to her if the princess or any of her allies were still within the mansion, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She still couldn’t see where the room was; the place was a real mess with the mass evacuation. Just as things thinned out her fears came true; the dragon fell into a fury and began to approach the last of the guests trying to squeeze out the main doors. Loress, realizing how foolish it was, bucked a piece of debris towards the dragon. The dragon tensed and halted its pursuit; it turned and looked around. The Terran realized, as the last of the guests scrambled out, she’d convinced the dragon to stay. It roared and began to stomp around, seeking out the creature that was still hiding. Shit… Loress ducked behind a pillar. She knew dragons had a good sense of smell… and hearing, sight, and touch… She could only hide so long, she knew, watching the dragon poke its wagon-sized head into an alcove across the dance floor. “Great,” Zyra strained. “Only a foot more to go…” Clovis encouraged her, “Good, Zyra…” Delia didn’t dare look outside, “Everypony stay quiet… The ballroom’s empty, other than the dragon, but it’s started searching around.” They had little choice in staying put, but Zyra had made a hole large enough to squeeze through; she just needed to break through. “I wish Loress was here,” Zyra said with some effort. “She could likely punch us out…” This was true but the Terran was absent. They prayed she was safe. Loress was safe enough but the dragon had caught her scent; it snuffled around, eating what gems it came across. She lamented her situation; even with the excellent smell she couldn’t believe the beast had picked up on hers given how many ponies had been inside. She saw her way out. She could creep along the wall opposite of the dragon; it would follow where she’d already been. She’d be able to make it to the main door and run. Running was something she could do well enough… Then she realized the dragon had picked up another scent. The ponies in the room knew the dragon was nearby but they’d hoped it wouldn’t figure out they were there. Realizing how wrong they were about not getting sniffed out they felt the room shake as the dragon began to buffet the walls above the door. Dust began to shake from the ceiling, covering them all. “Move Essenta closer!” Clovis hissed; they may have been located but they might yet benefit from quiet. They moved the princess closer and tried to press themselves to the back wall. “Almost there…” Wilka strangled out. “There!” With a crack, her beam of energy broke through; with an outlet she blasted more freely, opening the hole wider. Zyra jumped back, “Clovis! Send a blast of ice through!” He did so; they’d burn otherwise, passing through. “Done!” he shouted. As they were poised to exit through the hole the ceiling fell in; some jumped one way and some the other. Stunned but okay, Dechaa, Zyra, Orni, and Wilka found themselves on the door side of the room. The dragon hadn’t made it through, but the next floor had fallen in on them. A barrier of rubble separated them from the outside wall. Dechaa threw herself to the debris, “No!” Zyra pulled her back, “Watch out!” The rubble shifted, sending up more dust. Orni stared at the pile, “No…” A voice came through, “Are you four okay?” It was Delia. Dechaa got as close as she dared, “Yes! Are Sen and Clovis?” Clovis answered, “The princess is already safe outside. Is there any way you can make it over?” They could see a gap but there was no climbing over. Zyra called back, “No… And I don’t dare try to move anything.” They were in trouble. Dechaa called, “You have to go!” “We can’t-” Delia began. The walls started shaking again as the dragon resumed its chore. Dechaa cried, “GO!” The four mares dove out of the now broken door, but not before espying the dragon’s location. The dragon seemed preoccupied with the crumbling wall, so they snuck along the intact portion. Loress had been on pins and needles watching the dragon attacking the room. She’d realized it was her friends in there; there wasn’t any other way to explain it. She was at once relieved and terrified to see four mares come out beneath the dragon’s hulking frame. Loress stifled a cry, hoping to not alert her friends or the dragon; she’d continue to sneak out as it was the best option, she felt. Unaware Loress was across from them the four mares crept along. The dragon however, noticed them; it roared and swiped at the pillar they’d moved behind. Screaming, they huddled to the wall but quickly realized they had to keep moving. They’d been far from the main doors to begin with. Moving as fast as they dared, the dragon continued to swipe at them. Neither party had much advantage, given the debris. Well, the four mares had a distraction on their side. The Terran ran alongside the dragon, shouting for all she was worth, watching it plumb around wherever it could get its claws and snout. “Hey! Hey!” Loress wasn’t finding much success in distracting the dragon from her friends. Zyra sent bolts of energy towards the dragon, keeping it at bay but little else; she could only use her offensive magic effectively when she was able to concentrate… or in times of great desperation (it seemed strange this wasn’t one of those times). Dechaa was too afraid to do much and the other two stood little chance in breaking away. The four of them managed to move, but with nothing but a corner filled with debris waiting for them. It was only a matter of time before the mares were caught; their fate wouldn’t be pretty. Loress was close to tears in her desperation: her friends were about to die… She wasn’t sure what compelled her to do the things she did next. Love? Friendship? Duty? Suicidal tendencies? She’d maybe have time to think about it later in the remote possibility she didn’t die. Beside Loress was a chunk of rubble; determined to catch the dragon’s fancy she aimed and bucked it. The chunk of stone hit the dragon on its rump; the dragon tensed up, diverting its attention from Dechaa, Zyra, Wilka, and Orni. “Hey, dragon! Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you, you cock-smokin’, clap-havin’, son-of-a-whore motherfucker!” the beautiful Terran hollered in front of the wet bar at the end of the ballroom. The dragon turned its eyes to the offending mare, seeing her for the first time; its eyes were as rubies in firelight. It turned and sauntered over, shaking the floor with each step until it faced Loress head-on. “Yeah…” Loress uttered with some baseless conviction that came from who-knows-where. “Look at me… Look at just me, you monster…” A rumble, which was soon recognized as its growl, emanated from its throat and flame lapped at its lips. It could be felt, just as its stomping around was. Loress heard her bowels void, facing the dragon, but didn’t really get to appreciate it, even though she could vaguely smell it; she was shaking from her earsies down to her hoofsies and she’d already wet herself at some point. She was good and terrified, and she’d definitely gotten the dragon’s attention. It was just as big as it looked too. The dragon reared up a little as it inhaled. Shit… Loress was in trouble. It blew forth fire, boiling the empty pool and incinerating the bar instantaneously. But the very occasionally foulmouthed little pony wasn’t there anymore. Loress may have convincingly sullied her second garment of the night but she didn’t lose her head; she bolted to the side and ran for her life along the other side of the ballroom across from her friends, shielded periodically by pillars. The dragon roared and moved with astonishing speed and was on her in seconds. Blowing flame hot enough to melt stone, the pillars glowed. And the wooden trim and various upholstery burned like a grease fire, quickly spreading. The other mares could see all this from their wall. “Loress!” Wilka cried out; she could see Loress was about to corner herself as they almost had and tried to bolt for her friend. “Oh, no you don’t!” Orni held Wilka tight. “There’s nothing you can do! You can’t carry her, and you’d have no chance evading that thing!” “No…” Wilka’s eyes looked panicked. “We can’t-” Orni cried out, “We have to go!” Zyra looked ill, but nodded, “This may be our only chance…” “We can’t just leave her!” Wilka all but shrieked. Dechaa nudged Orni to start moving, hating herself for the words that came from her mouth, “We can, and we will! Everypony run!” Faces ashy with terror and the horrified resignation at leaving their friend, knowing they could do nothing other than die in vain, the other mares held onto Wilka and made a break for the doors. Whether Loress was willing to give her life for her friends or not was immaterial at the moment; it looked like she would either way and the girls ran for it, their shadows dancing in the swelling firelight. The dragon noticed the four mares making a beeline for the exit and whipped its tail; the swing caught a pillar, bringing it down and trapping the mares. Zyra put up a barrier to hold the debris at bay, but the pillar caught and failed to reach the floor fully. They still had a way out, but it involved moving back and towards the dragon. Loress realized the dragon wasn’t after her at just that second, “NO!” It was a good thing Zyra’s next instinct was to raise a heat-shield, as the dragon turned its flame towards the girls. It got hot in there, but the shield held while the mares inside nearly gave into panic; Zyra, knowing her spell would hold, was more concerned about the structure around them dissolving in the high temperature and crushing them. Both sides of the ballroom were burning, and the fire was hastily reaching towards the high ceiling and beginning to creep towards the now-defunct mare’s former quarters up the staircase. Even above the din of the fiery blast Loress could be heard, “Oh, no you cunting don’t, paedīcātor!” Loress wound up her back legs and bucked a chunk of pillar as if it was a ball of yarn and struck the dragon in its side, staggering it. It was obvious to Loress it hurt, but she wasn’t confident she’d done more than piss it off; its hide was like diamond and its ribs like steel. It rounded on her, eyes full of some deep, animalistic rage, and sprang forward, mouth open, its snake-like teeth flaring out. Loress realized the dragon wasn’t interested in roasting her; those teeth would shred her. The other mares looked on in dismay; Loress wasn’t getting out of the way. What happened next, nopony would likely believe. Loress wouldn’t have believed it herself if she hadn’t been the one to do it. But the four mares, momentarily safe under the heat-shield, would soon believe it too. The Terran wasn’t even aware of what she was doing until it was over. Loress braced her back hooves, wound up, gritting her teeth, and put all her formidable strength into meeting the dragon’s face with her front right hoof as it rocketed her way. “RRRRHAAAARGH!!” her hoof contacted the dragon’s upper-jaw. For the briefest fraction-of-a-second, all was still. Then the dragon’s face- with its scales of diamond, skull of steel, and overall atrociousness - folded over to one side as the snout splintered, its teeth and lifeblood spraying in five directions like piss the morning after sex. The left eye popped clear of the socket, held only by its optical nerve. The bottom jaw caught the floor and unhinged at a full 180 degrees with many a pop and a snap. Loress didn’t even budge, unless one considers the three hoof-holes she’d stamped into the solid marble floor. The dragon’s neck didn’t quite break as the skull had, it appeared, but the dragon’s momentum against the immovable Terran brought the body end-over-end, tumbling into the marble floor with an Earth-shattering CRASH that shook the building to its very foundation. “Holy motherfuckin’… SHIT!” Zyra cried out, dropping the heat-shield in her awed state. The other girls expressed similar astonishment; the mansion had become a convincing vision of Hell and Loress had just slain “King Shit Demon” with her bare hooves. The second the dragon’s body impacted the floor Loress was already to the four mares; her gown, coat, tail, and mane were singed, and she was covered ears to hooves in blood and dust, “Don’t just stand there with your hooves down your dresses! We have a path; RUN!” Whether the dragon was even alive or not, they ran, all right. Screaming as if Hell itself was trying to give them all magma-enemas, the five mares ran; they weren’t taking chances. The roof began to cave in under the incredible heat; built of stone or not, the mayoral mansion was being gutted by the fire. Within seconds they burst out of the front doors with an eruption of flame following them and galloped onto the forested road. Dechaa was crying in relief; she wasn’t the only one. That had been the most frightening thing on the journey so far and they didn’t even realize it until they were probably safe. The charred, filthy mares wept unabashedly for joy of not being dead. For a short time, they even forgot some of the awful shit they’d seen… Loress shouted out, “Is Essenta safe?!” Dechaa choked, “Clovis and Delia got her out!” A sob escaped from the Terran’s throat, “Oh, thank Heavens!” Orni called up from the rear, “Loress, how’d you do that?!” Loress responded, “Terran magic! I can’t believe it worked!” “Say what?!” Orni had a hard time wrapping her mind around that. “Later! Just run…!” Loress wasn’t interested in much else at that moment, crying like a 4-year-old who’d just shit her pants on the playground. “Oh, I thought I was gonna die back there!” Zyra was panting, gasping laughter, eyes streaming, “Loress… that was the first time I’ve heard you say anything in your own language!” “Yeah!” Loress breathed easily (recall her stamina). “I always forget you can speak Terran… among other things…” “Well, it’s never been necessary in our travels! But you…! You called the dragon a ‘butt-fucker’! ‘Paedīcātor’!” Zyra yelled. “Well, close enough, I did…” the Terran responded, a huge grin on her face. The little mage was bursting with all sorts of indescribable feelings; her cackle might have been heard for miles around, “Ha, ha! It’s good to be alive! Paedīcātor, paedīcātor, paaaaaaaedīcātoooooooooooooooor! Yippee-Ki-Yay, uh…!” Loress looked over, laughing fit to bust, “Yippee-Ki-Yay, what?” Zyra looked sheepish, “How do you say ‘motherfucker’ in Terran?” Loress pondered, suddenly serious, “I don’t think there’s a word… It doesn’t translate…” “Whatever! You called the dragon that too! Yippee-Ki-Yay!” Zyra wasn’t letting that ruin their moment. Loress joined her in the cry and the two yipped and howled and gibbered, increasing their speed. Wilka and Orni felt something rise inside, matched the pace, and screamed as one, “Wahoo!” Dechaa hollered as she upped her own gallop, looking back at the crumpling mansion with much distaste, “Fuck this city! Burn, baby, burn!” With rebel yells that shook the changing leaves from the trees the girls tore through the woods. Somewhere up ahead was the rendezvous point; they wouldn’t slow down until they got there.