Applejack wandered through the streets, drinking in the sights and sounds as she drifted around the districts and canals. She didn’t much like the big city. Stormwind reminded her of Canterlot, and she had always felt the latter to be stuffy and enclosed. Still, she could smell a host of familiar scents – manure, mostly – that told her that there were farms nearby, probably even in Elwynn Forest
.
She figured she’d kill some time with a little exploring of their new environment until she had to work at the shop. Watching over the warehouse had been boring and entirely uneventful, save for Rarity’s ability to yammer away incessantly about anything and everything, which had just been annoying.
Trees lined the canals, and she quickly realised that several were apple trees. The apples were ripe and fresh for picking, and a number had indeed fallen from the tree already. She picked one of those up and bit deep enjoying the juicy flesh of the fruit and stripping it to the core.
Not as good as an Apple Family apple, but passable.
It brought her thoughts back to her family, to stoic Big Mac, to venerable ol’ Granny Smith and energetic young Apple Bloom.
Barely more than a day had gone by since she had been with them before. And now I migh’ never seem ‘em again…
She grimaced and made the mental effort to push such thoughts from her mind.
It was clear how hard being swept away from home to a strange land was hitting her friends after only a day had passed; one merely had to look at Rainbow Dash to see that. They needed someone to be a rock, and Applejack knew that was her job.
No matter how much she missed and would miss her family, she couldn’t do anything for them now, while her friends were family too – in their own way –and she could protect them here.
The ‘Dwarven District’ was closest to the warehouse, but she didn’t dally there long. It was incredibly industrial, choking black smoke filling the air. She thought about returning to the Trade District from there, but with an hour to spare she decided to look around the ‘Old Town’ .
It seemed to be the cornerstone around which the rest of the city had been built; as if the name wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the buildings and even the pavement were different. She could almost smell the history instilled in the area… or maybe that was just the sewage system.
Rounding a corner, she came upon the scene of an accident. A wooden cart had gone off the road and had lost a wheel. A man – the owner, she presumed – knelt nearby, looking frantic and muttering quickly to himself.
“No no no… If I don’t get this to the shop in time I’m going to get the sack!”
Applejack glanced down at him sympathetically as she approached. He looked very young – she didn’t know much about humans, but she had a keen eye, and the contrasts between him and the scarred, weathered Trias were obvious.
Looking carefully, she managed to spot the tall clocktower in the middle of the city from where she was, and weighed up her remaining time. Eh, yeah, won’t take me too long.
“Howdy, stranger.” she called over and he looked up. “Need a lil’ help?”
The man looked at her doubtfully. “Sorry miss, but I’m not sure you can. I need someone to lift this cart up so I can fit the wheel back on.”
She smiled tightly. “Pretty sure I can lift that for ya.”
Part of her wanted to snap back at him or just turn and walk away, but a greater part felt the need to prove him wrong.
And now I’ve gone and said I will, too. The Element of Honesty can’t let herself become a liar, no siree…
Realising that he had nothing to lose, the man shrugged and moved back to let her try.
She gripped the underside of the cart with both hands and pushed hard. Her new body had certain advantages – she wouldn’t have had the dexterity to do the same with her hooves.
She exerted more than enough force to send the cart upwards, to the great surprise of the man. He gawped at her for a moment as she strained against the mass of the cart and the force of gravity pulling it down.
“Uh… you gonna fit that wheel or what?”
“Oh! Right…” Applejack’s words jogged him back into alertness, and he scurried to fit the wheel back into place and secure it so that the cart would roll again. Her arms were starting to hurt a little by the time he had finished, but compared to half the chores she’d had to do on the farm, it was nothing.
“Y’see? Wasn’t all that difficult.”
The man flushed red with embarrassment and didn’t meet her gaze. “I must apologise, miss. I shouldn’t have underestimated you.”
“’s alright. Jus’ make sure you take kind folk seriously from now on.” She smiled politely and started to walk away.
“W-wait a second, miss!” the man shouted as he ran up to her, and she turned her attention back to him. “With strength like that, you must be a warrior, for sure! Who trained you, if I may ask?”
“Me? A warrior?” Applejack cocked her head to one side. A shock of her bright blonde hair slipped in front of her eyes and she pushed it aside. Gonna sound like Rarity now, but I really need to get m’hair sorted out... ‘s just too messy. Keeps gettin' in the way. “Nah, I’m no warrior. Got all my strength from doin’ work on the farm, ‘s all. Only times I ever really had to fight were whenever the timber wolves got a might bit rowdy or…” she trailed off as she realised that might have been giving a bit too much information.
“Well, that would explain the country accent. Westfall, no doubt.” The man nodded self-assuredly, sparing her the need to reply – and lie – then held his hand out. “My name’s Jonas Anthony.”
“Name’s Applejack.” She hesitated, then shook the offered appendage tentatively. He probably took her reluctance to be out of lingering offense from his earlier doubts, and paled slightly, but she bore no grudge – in truth it came down to the fact that barely a day before she hadn’t even had hands to shake with…
Guess this is just one o’ their customs.
“I do feel bad about earlier.” Jonas said. “If you aren’t trained as a warrior now, how would you feel about learning? I’m apprenticed to one of the trainers in this district, and there’s an open spot now that one of his students has dropped out.”
He looked hopeful, but the farm girl wasn’t too keen on the idea. Sure, it sounds good for some physical activity and all, but why would I need to know how to fight proper?
She tried to let him down gently. “I dunno, I…”
“I mean, I understand if you’re too busy...”
“Uh…” Darn it, I just can’t lie! “Not really, but…”
“Great! We train each day at dawn at the barracks just over there.” He motioned over to an imposing white-slab building. “I really have to get going now or I’ll be in such trouble, but I’ll see you there!” Without allowing her another word, he grabbed the cart and hurried off, leaving Applejack to stare after him in confusion.
She sighed and began making her way back to the cheese shop. "Great… just what have I gotten m’self into now?
Rarity had taken a different route back from the warehouse than Applejack; not because she didn’t want to spend time with the girl, but because the bearer of honesty had been insistent on taking the path through the “Old Town”, and one sniff deep through her nose and into the back of her throat had told the fashionista all she needed to know about that part of the city.
No – it would be much better to stay in the areas built up with such shiny marble and with streets cobbled from such elegant stone. Architecture and city-planning was obviously one of Twilight’s (many) areas of expertise, but that didn’t mean she had a monopoly over it. Rarity enjoyed it because it was an art form, an appreciation of beauty in itself, while Twilight would focus on the numbers and the technical aspects for their own sakes.
The importance of suiting clothes to one’s environment – aesthetically, but practically – was one of the tenets she had clung to since her earliest days as an apprentice.
One thing she had to say in favour of being human was that they all seemed to wear so much clothing. As a pony, dresses were for formal occasions only, and most would remain unclothed outside of those situations. But humans… everyone in the city was wearing something, from the working clothes worn by the Trias’s, to the heavy, sweaty armour paraded by the guards... to the filthy, disgusting rags that she found herself forced to wear now.
My first wages are without a doubt going to be spent on more appropriate attire for one of my bearing. Or perhaps a needle and some thread… I’m sure that even such a dire ensemble as this would not be too far beyond my skills.
She looked down at her hoo- her hands, and realised that she was certainly lucky, compared to Rainbow Dash, at least. It would take her some adjustment, but she would still be able to work wonders with these new, dexterous tools. They would hopefully compensate for the lack of unicorn magic that had allowed her to work before – even if she missed the familiar presence of her horn upon her head.
But Rainbow… she practically lived for flying. And even Twilight, who was trying so hard to be strong, to be the leader, would no doubt take the loss of her horn much harder once the situation began to normalise.
So I must do my utmost not to break down group morale. Rarity resolved. I will just have to make this sad situation work for me until we are able to go home.
Applejack had clearly had the same idea, and Pinkie Pie was… Pinkie Pie. It’s almost impossible to tell what that poor girl is thinking at any one time.
Which just left Fluttershy. The bearer of kindness had a lot of inner strength, that much could not be denied, but she would still need help in the days to come.
Her disparate movement through the city eventually took her within sight of an archway that was larger and more opulent than any she had seen before, protected by four guards with gold trim lining their otherwise standard blue-silver armour. She looked around and spotted a signpost pointing towards it that simply stated “Royal Keep”.
At last! She smiled. High society! I wonder if their ruler is as marvellous as Princess Celestia?
She started towards the looming entrance before stopping herself. Look at me… She glanced down at herself and sighed. I cannot possibly enter such a place looking as terrible at this!
It would be embarrassing. Keeping her eyes glued to the floor, she began to head back to the cheese shop.
She had barely gone ten yards, however, before her ears caught the sound of a snooty, pretentious voice up ahead.
‘Cultured’ would have been the very polite way of putting it.
I can’t let anyone of class see me like this, no matter how shallow they are!
Making a snap decision, she darted into a nearby alley… and almost immediately regretted it when she had to crouch behind a bin to avoid being seen.
The owner of the voice came into view, and she was just as Rarity had suspected; thin but evidently well-fed, dainty but with a nasty, pointed expression that told all about her personality. She was accompanied by a bored, rough-looking man with a sheathed sword who Rarity assumed was her guard, and an old butler who appeared very put-upon.
“What a complete waste of time! Tiffany and Cartier never have any jewels worthy of my attention! I don’t even know why I expect anything from them. Buying those diamond shoes was a mistake – I doubt they’re even real diamonds! Father had best demand that cashier be sacked, too!”
“I’m sure he will, m’lady…”
“And this fashionable bag? Does anyone at the bag shop even know the meaning of the word ‘fashionable’?”
I’m very sure that you yourself do not. Rarity thought dryly.
“…”
“And this dress? It was obviously so yesterday! Why did you allow me to buy it?! When I make an obvious mistake you are meant to stop me, you fools!”
“Yes, m’lady… Sorry m’lady…”
“In fact – throw them in the trash where they belong!”
“At once, m’lady…” Three boxes – presumably containing the dress, the shoes and the bag – were tossed clear of the woman’s shopping. They skidded across the ground and came to a halt just in front of Rarity’s hiding place.
“Now come along, Gerald. I don’t want to be late for the gala held by House Lescovar today!”
“Yes, m’lady…” The lady strutted off, followed by her tired retainers. Rarity waited for their footsteps to fade out entirely before making a move.
She hesitantly pried the first open, taking care to avoid letting it get stained by the filthy alley ground.
A quick appraisal of the flashy blue dress left her very impressed, and scornful of the girl’s idiocy. Whoever had made this certainly knew their stuff – it was good work, on par with hers back home.
The hand bag she checked next was also up to her standards, and really, who didn’t love to accessorise? She didn’t know whether it would be up to the latest trends, having nothing else to compare to, but the lady’s dismissal of it suggested to her that it was actually worth having.
She felt much the same about the shoes, and she was able to confirm that the diamonds were genuine; spending most of her life working with gems had given her a keen eye for such things. Better still, they came with a matching necklace that sparkled as much as her eyes did – even more of an opportunity to accessorise!
In fact, with all of these, I might even be able to make it into that gathering of nobles.
She looked out of the alley and eyed the archway nervously. I don’t want to get into trouble in this city, but how difficult can it be to convince a few guards?
It will mean getting dressed in this alley, though…
She weighed up her options, but it was the dress in the end that convinced her to bite the bullet and get on with it.
I’ll feel better wearing this than I will these rags… but I should keep them anyway for actual work.
She looked around to make sure that the coast was clear, then quickly set about changing.
Rarity could hardly believe it had been so easy.
All she had had to do was adopt the mannerisms of the stereotypical upperclasswomen, mimicking the brat who had gone in before her, and the guards had practically fallen over themselves to accommodate her and direct her to the gala.
She felt sorry for them – it was clear that most of the people comprising the high society of this city did not treat them very well.
She had introduced herself as Lady Rarity, staying as light on the details as possible, and luckily it had paid off. She was shown through to the keep, and led down hallways and corridors, marveling at the paintings of various nobles displayed in bright blue, silver and gold.
Her luck continued when they arrived at the gala – it was clearly a grand occasion. Hundreds were in attendance, and nobody would notice one more if she played the part correctly.
And how could she not? True, she would not normally be seen as welcome by the nobles of this world, but she had attended numerous parties hosted by Canterlot’s elite. If no-one realised, everything would be fine.
Merely being there was not enough of course; she just had to admire the fashions being modeled so that she could work out the trends. Equally, she couldn’t make herself too obvious or she would risk discovery. She edged around the room, keeping a careful eye out for the glitziest designs, and would only engage in conversation if she caught the beginnings of one between two or more – with a quick smile at all parties, they would assume that she was a mutual friend of one of the others.
She managed to keep this up for nearly an hour, dancing back and forth, only talking when it came to something she understood. Gossip was an excellent currency, and by the end she was repeating the juiciest bits – those that had garnered the greatest reaction –that she had heard over the other side of the room, even if she didn’t actually understand what she was saying.
“King Wrynn hasn’t been seen for months…”
“Lady Prestor’s the power behind the throne now…”
And so on. It was all going swimmingly, and she was beginning to think she was in the clear, but...
“And who might you be, m’lady?”
Her eyes darting around, Rarity realised that she was being addressed by a man, and he was alone. More to the point, he was positively dashing. Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a strong, developed build… She felt her cheeks flush crimson red as he approached.
But he’s human, not a stallion… this body has a mind of its own.
“Good day. I am Lady Rarity, daughter of House Erlgadin.” She bowed at the level that was deemed appropriate, and he reciprocated. The noble house she had named apparently didn’t frequent such gatherings very often; the perfect cover for her own lack of nobility.
“An Erlgadin at a formal event? That’s a rarity.” he quipped, and gave a warm smile. “Baron Lukas, of the Castervals.” It was a house she hadn’t heard mentioned yet in the room, but just nodded in response; what else could she do? “I was just admiring your hair, such an intriguing colour for a human like us.”
“I suppose that I’m just lucky.” she replied carefully.
“Your attire also marks you out as one with excellent taste. Black diamonds are in with blue this season.”
Her heart swelled at the compliment, but she hid it well. “I have a certain expertise with fine gems, and of course one mustn’t be out of step with the times.”
“Quite so.” He looked around carefully, and then leaned in conspiratorially. “In truth, I despise these gatherings... but our meeting here may just prove to be serendipitous. I have a set of arcane crystals that my family purchased at the last closed house auction, currently secured in a nearby cloakroom. Would you do me the favour of examining them?”
She had no idea what an arcane crystal was, but realised that the time was pressing on and she had to be back at the shop soon. This diversion might just give her the opening to slip away.
“I would be delighted to help if I can.”
He smiled and led her away from the main gaggle, out a side door and into the corridor.
He took her up a flight of stairs and through another two rooms, and she began to grow slightly concerned. Just as she began to feel that apprehension, however, he stopped in front of an unmarked, treated wooden door.
“After you, m’lady.” He gestured politely, and she walked into the room. There was no light here, the windows shrouded in thick, dark curtains, and she couldn't make out anything in it.
Just as she turned to watch the baron enter, the door slammed shut.
The time it took for her to realise she had been tricked was the same amount of time it took for her to reach the door and start banging hard on it.
“Baron Lukas Casterval, what is the meaning of this?!”
Five seconds later, she had her answer. A single light illuminated the room, not bright enough to do so completely, so it still left many shadows filling it, but still bright enough that she could see.
“Hello, Miss Rarity.”
I recognise that voice…
She turned around to find Elling Trias sitting at a small wooden table in the centre of the room, an empty chair opposite him.
“Please, take a seat.”
“For the record,” Trias said, keeping his voice very level. Razor-sharp level. “There is no House Casterval. Any true member of the Stormwind nobility would know that.”
Rarity could hear her heart beating inside her chest. Her lips had gone incredibly dry but she had at least managed to avoid breaking into a sweat. She kept her breathing as measured as possible; hyperventilating now would do no good.
“Up until then, you were doing very well. Keeping yourself out of the way, finding out as much as possible… You’ve got the makings of an excellent spy, Miss Rarity. Or perhaps a thief, if you planned on playing a shorter game.
She suddenly realised that Elling Trias was a very dangerous man, and that he had probably not received his eye patch in a mere cheese-slicing accident.
“Normally, this is the point where I would ask you who sent you, what you learned, and so on – you refuse to give up, so we take… further measures.” But I haven’t got anything to say... “After that, it gets nasty.” She had to fight the urge to grip the edges of the chair.
He paused, letting it sink in. It was impossible for her not to tremble a little.
At last, he spoke again, and this time he was facing her. “But that won’t be necessary. I know you’re not a spy.
“A real spy wouldn’t bother looking around a noble gala for information, because these galas are an echo chamber. Information here is not new, and seldom is it correct, anyway. A real spy would have known to make the effort to infiltrate the military.”
She let out a breath that she hadn’t realised she was holding as he opened the curtain, filling the dark room with light, before continuing.
“You could just be stupid, but I don’t think that’s true. You showed quite some skill in going about today… you’ve almost certainly done it before, or you are at least used to mingling with the upper classes.”
He ended there, and they sat in silence for a few minutes.
“So, what now?” she asked at last, feeling that he meant her to speak next.
Trias was staring intently at her, and she held the stare.
“Miss Rarity… I have work of a kind that you might be uniquely suited to. Tell me, did you hear anyone in that gaggle of fools below speak of SI7?”