“SPIIIIKE!!” A piercing cry brought the purple dragon’s daydreaming to an abrupt halt. “SPIIIKE, WHERE ARE YOU?”
Spike winced as his adoptive sister’s shrill voice echoed through his head. “Sheesh, Twilight, you don’t have to be so loud! I’m still standing right here, where I hoofed you that letter a few seconds ago.” He was promptly ignored as Twilight began to show the telltale signs of her typical panic attacks.
“Oh my goodness! We have to *gasp* we need— *urgh* The princess, I, we—”
“TWILIGHT!” interrupted Spike, quickly recognizing what was happening. “Breathe, Twi. Do it with me. In, two, three; out, two three. In, two, three; out, two, three.” He reached with both of his claws, grabbing her muzzle and forcing eye contact. “Deep breaths, sis. Can you do that for me?”
Spike stared into Twilight’s eyes, her pupils having shrunk to the size of an asparagus seed. Slowly she nodded and began breathing along with the little fire drake. In and out, in and out. Gradually she got herself under control, enough that Spike finally thought it safe to let her face go.
“Okay, now, just breathe a few more time for me. When you are ready, you will SLOWLY and CALMLY tell me what the letter said. Unless Nightmare Moon has returned there is absolutely no reason to panic, okay? Now, what did Princess Celestia say?”
Twilight took one last deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Okaay… okay. I’m better now, thanks, Spike. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Spike chuckled, “Heh, actually you do. Remember when I had to leave Canterlot for a week so I could awaken my flame at Ashfall Volcano? And remember how, when I got back, you had somehow managed to convince half the Royal Guard that aliens had infiltrated the city? And the peacocks, remember what they told us you had done? Princess Celestia laughed about that one for a solid five minutes. Oh! And remember the time I was taking a nap and you decided to enchant your quill to be self-writing? I closed my eyes for five minutes and opened them to a screaming gaggle of maids trying to herd a sentient ball of feathers back into—” a lavender hoof stopped Spike’s rambling as a blushing Twilight stammered and stuttered over him.
“Ok-kay, I, g-get it.” Twilight once again took a few moments to collect herself. “Just, ugh! Listen to me for a second. The princess is coming here, Spike, and she is coming tomorrow! We need to clean, and prepare, and cook, and maybepackjustincasewegetbanishedtothem—hrrrrrghhh!”
The purple unicorn wilted under the dragon’s wry gaze. “Okay, maybe I’m overreacting just a wee bit.”
*eyebrow raise*
“…maybe I’m overreacting a lot?”
*slow nod*
“Fine, I AM overreacting. But still, we do need to be good hosts. Celestia said she will be coming for afternoon tea and that she wants Pinkie to bring some scones. We need to ask her and the rest of the girls if they are free.”
Spike grinned at that. “Sounds good! I’ll go talk to Rarity then. See ya Twi!”
Twilight blinked. Three stories below, the front door slammed shut. Seven blocks down, the bell above Carousel Boutique’s doorway rang. Five hundred miles to the north, a certain pink alicorn sneezed.
“Wha—?” started Twilight. “How did—? Where—? Ugh! SPIIIIKE!”
While Twilight dealt with the impending visit from royalty, the princess in question was enjoying a relaxing soak in her golden hot tub, washing away all her worries of the day. The strong jets of water pummeled her alabaster coat, knocking away both physical and mental dirt. As she sank into complete bliss, her final worry slipped away. This worry just happened to concern a certain stallion residing in Ponyville. A stallion who was currently in a rather unpleasant situation.
“I’m sorry, True Blue, but I just cannot fill these orders for you anymore! The first month I thought was just a fluke. ‘Maybe he’s just stocking up for a while,’ I thought. ‘Maybe he’s having a very specifically themed party and needs these for decoration.’ I filled your order and thought it done. Then the second order came through. I almost refused you then, but I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. ‘Maybe he’s running a reenactment business. Maybe all of his friends have the same hobby as he does and he supplies the equipment,’ I thought. But no! You just had to come with this triple-sized third order and destroy all my possible excuses for you!”
The red-faced earth pony huffed as he unleashed his great annoyance on the cowering unicorn before him. “So tell me, True Blue. What in Celestia’s name do you need FIVE HUNDRED STEEL TRAINING SWORDS FOR, HUH?! ARE YOU BUILDING AN ARMY?! DO YOU PLAN ON CONQUERING PONYVILLE, EQUESTRIA EVEN?! WHY DO YOU NEED THESE?!”
The white-coated unicorn nervously twirled a hoof through his azure locks, eyes darting back and forth. He gave a nervous grin to the irate blacksmith and stammered out his response.
“I, er, I mean me and my friends just really like fencing…?” He whinnied and shuffled a few steps back as the blacksmith continued to glare at him.
“And, uh, we go through a lot of swords I guess?”
This elicited a groan from the shopkeeper as he banged his head on the counter. His tan mane fell over his eyes and muzzle as he let his head rest on the wood.
“Get. Out.”
The blue-eyed unicorn whimpered and shuffled a bit closer to the counter. “But I really need thes—”
“GET OUT OF MY SHOP!”
“Yipe! Sir yes sir!” True Blue scampered out the door, barely avoiding a rack of spears and several ponyquins of armor in his exit path. He quickly galloped down the street, only stopping once he was five blocks away. The unicorn plopped down on a nearby bench, panting from his sudden exertion. He glanced around the area as he slouched, waiting until the hoof traffic slowed down. A few seconds later, a momentary lull in daytime shoppers rendered the street temporarily empty.
The stallion blinked a few times, and his demeanor suddenly shifted. The anxiety and nervousness completely disappeared, replaced with a look of annoyance. His rapid breathing slowed down as well. A lack of sweat added to the subtle indicators that perhaps this stallion was not as winded as he had let on. The final confirmation came as his eyes narrowed with a sharp gleam sparkling within, daring anypony to suggest that he had ever acted cowardly in the first place.
“Rats!” he exclaimed, startling a nearby cat. “Another supplier gone. And here I thought Rusty Rise was the perfect candidate. He didn’t even question me until today.”
True Blue snorted in irritation. “I suppose I’ll have to start ordering from out of town then. That will leave a paper trail, but at least suspicions around here will die down. Of course, I already have enough supplies to last a couple years of normal times, but if the rumors are true…No, no, let’s not think like that. Still, it is my duty to prepare for the worst. Do your duty, Blue.”
The stallion hopped off the bench, landing in a half-crouch reminiscent of a hoofball player. He brushed his blue mane (two-toned, of course) back, revealing sharp cheekbones and a square jaw. Strong muscles rippled across his chest, well-defined and easily visible. A mare who was passing by noticed the fine stallion in the corner of her eye. She glanced his way and came to an abrupt standstill, visibly blushing. True Blue gave the light green mare a grin and a wink, sending her into a literal swoon. He was a stallion of the highest form with a body sculpted by Michael Cannongelo himself. Everypony would agree that True Blue represented the pinnacle of stallionhood. Only a select few ponies (such as Big Macintosh or Prince Blueblood) could even compare.
Of course, Blue did not distract himself with such egotistical thoughts for long. After chuckling to himself over the mare’s reaction, he trotted swiftly down the road, making his way to the outskirts of Ponyville. After his failure at the smithy, Blue was all too eager to get back to work. One must always do their duty, standing firm through the pain of failure. These rules were what the unicorn lived by, after all. No setback would keep him from serving his princess.
Blue slowed to a walk, having finally reached his destination. Celestia’s sun was just beginning to set, shining a dazzling array of reds and yellows down on the beige building in front of him. The sign on the door was nigh illegible, faded from long exposure to the elements. If one squinted from just the right angle, the words Loose Tongue Linguistics could barely be made out.
This was actually a translation business, established around four years ago after a family of Saddle Arabians moved to the town. The local mare Loose Tongue had opened the place as an educational facility meant to offer classes in learning foreign languages, especially so the new immigrants could learn Equestrian. Unfortunately, there were a good many problems getting the business up and running.
Firstly, as it turned out, the Saddle Arabian family already spoke perfect Equestrian, having learned the language prior to their move. Secondly, as Ponyville was a relatively small farming community, there was not a great demand for knowledge of foreign tongues. Most of the residents were perfectly content without attaining the status of a bilingual. Thirdly, Loose Tongue’s talent was in spreading gossip and rumors, NOT speaking foreign languages. Consequently, after three years and a small fortune’s worth of bits (generously provided by a governmental grant for inclusion and diversity), Loose Tongue was more than happy to sell off the business to True Blue and wash her hooves of the whole ordeal. She shortly moved to Canterlot, where her flowery words and knack for spreading information quickly landed her a job as a reporter for the Equestrian Daily. To this day she enjoys writing puff pieces and gossip columns, occasionally slipping in a foreign word or two learned during her stint as a linguistic.
That, however, is a story for another time. Back in the present, True Blue produced a key from his saddlebags and unlocked the front door. The rusted bell gave a sad chime as he entered, as if to proclaim its utter uselessness. Since Blue had purchased the place eight months ago, not a single customer had graced its doorstep. For most businessponies this would spell certain doom. Blue, however, did not seem to particularly mind it. He had not bought the business to make money, after all.
No, something else was at work here. You see, Loose Tongue had been an optimistic sort of mare. She believed in preparing for the best. As a result, the construction ponies had been commissioned to create as much space as possible in the plot of land she planted her building upon. Thus, the unused linguistics building was one of the few three-story structures found in Ponyville.
The true reason for Blue’s purchase, though, lay not just in the height of the building but in its depth. Indeed, it was there that the unicorn stallion was headed. He trotted through the dusty hallways, passing abandoned classrooms littered with old papers and dried ink pots. The final rays of the sun poked under half-raised blinds, reflected all around the room by airborne dust. Reaching the back of the building, True Blue grasped the circular handle of a trapdoor with his cobalt magic. The well-oiled hinges made no sound as the door opened. Lit torches lined the sides of a lengthy stairwell leading to the cellar below. Making his way down the steps, Blue sneezed several times.
I should really clean the rest of the building at some point. Even if I don’t use it, the dust I breathe in while passing through is unbearable!
At the bottom of the stairwell, one final door loomed in front of him. This door was obviously quite new, built from solid steel. Blue smiled in admiration of the portal. Truly a purchase well worth the cost. Raising an ivory hoof, he gave two solid raps on the door, followed by a long scrape across it and a shrill whistle. His ears twisted forward as several grunts and the sound of something heavy being lifted emanated from beyond. The unicorn backed up three paces and let the door swing open outwards, barely avoiding a smack to the muzzle. The gray-furred pegasus who had opened the door saluted smartly as True Blue entered the chamber.
“Welcome back sir! I trust your outing was productive?”
“I suppose it was,” responded the muscular stallion, flopping onto a nearby couch. “The blacksmith got too suspicious and refused to accept our order. The seamstress informed me she only does ‘custom orders’ and does not produce in bulk. Finally, the taxes on this business have gone up another half percent!”
The pegasus produced a look of utter bafflement. His amber eyes darted back and forth, trying to make sense of his boss’s explanation.
“I, uh, fail to see how that would count as a success, er, sir. Was there maybe… something else?”
True Blue cracked open an eye from his now totally relaxed position on the couch. He smirked at the continued confusion of the pegasus. He stretched his forelegs out above him, earning a satisfying crack. Smacking his lips together, he waited a moment before enlightening his subordinate.
“It counts as good news, my dear Firm Feathers, because I received word from my dear father in Canterlot concerning the operation. He says they are ready for another batch.
Understanding flashed across the pegasus’s face. A light breeze, seemingly from nowhere ruffled his snow-white mane.
“I see now, sir!” he exclaimed eagerly. “Will you be needing me again?”
“Of course, my little pegasus. After all, you are a model soldier. Not quite as skilled as myself perhaps, but that is nothing our little pre-training program will not fix.”
“Tomorrow night then?”
“Of course. Until then you are dismissed. Go enjoy the night, get some dinner. Who knows, you might even make a few friends.” Blue chortled at his joke. Firm Feathers rolled his eyes at the statement, finally relaxing as he was released from duty.
“Very funny, Blue, very funny. You aren’t going to join me tonight? The mares at the bar always ask about you. You could use the company. It’s not good for you, always being cooped up alone in this basement. Some ponies might even think you unsocial.” Firm put emphasis on the last word, attempting to rile up the unicorn. Blue, however, was unaffected.
“Not tonight, Firm, not tonight. I must put together the final designs for tomorrow. After all, we can never be too careful. I am amazed as it is that we haven’t been investigated yet. Better to take caution now and continue to divert suspicions. Mind magic is a tricky thing, even if it is my specialty. It requires careful planning and precise implementation.”
“Oh come on!” cried Firm, obviously unimpressed. “You have been working on this project for years! Another night of triple-checking will make no difference at all. Come on out with me, Blue. Live a little!”
“Ugh, way to make me feel guilty. Tell you what, after we get the next batch fully through phase one I promise I will go out with you every night for a week. That would suffice to attract all the mares to the bar for a while, right? I know that’s what you really want.”
Firm grinned. “You know me too well. It’s a deal boss. I’ll hold you to it. See you tomorrow evening then!”
True Blue laughed as his subordinate (and best friend) cantered up the stairs and into the night. When they were working Blue maintained his position as the definite boss. Firm Feathers followed his orders without question, since Blue was the pony in charge. After hours, though, he and Firm had gradually become tight friends, getting into all sorts of trouble together. Firm was one of the few ponies who knew all of Blue’s secrets. He willingly submitted to Blue’s mind-shaping magic, accepting orders to never reveal the nature of their work. Blue smiled as he remembered how their friendship had grown over the past three years. Firm Feathers was truly a good friend.
Blue levitated his saddlebags up from where he had shrugged them off and onto the coffee table in front of the couch. Reaching into them, he pulled out the letter he had retrieved from the post office earlier that. Unbeknownst to the unicorn stallion, if he had waited another fifteen minutes to fetch his mail, another letter would have been waiting inside his box. Not just any letter either. A very important letter delivered directly via magic, with a red wax seal depicting a rising sun. Blue, however, was unaware of this. In fact, because of his anticipation for the work to be done the next night, he would neglect to check his mail on the morrow. This would cause a rather large hiccup in the plans laid out in the letter he was now reading.
Dear son,
I am writing to inform you that group Charlie has passed muster with a 100% success rate. No unwanted questions have been asked. You are clear to begin work on Delta phase one.
Your very proud father,
Loyal Spear
P.S. Do your duty!