The wood had charred into a crumbling state, and soon the fires would have completely worked their way from the straw thatched roof tops to the cobblestone foundations. Twilight stood immobilised in the freezing river with her friends. Fluttershy had already given in to the chill and could no longer control her shivering. Her teeth were snapping rapidly, uncontrollably, making a demoralising sound to the colts and fillies herded within the protective circle. Pinkie Pie would not move her lips to soothe those who were as shaken as she was. Applejack stood as a wall amongst other adults to protect the young, even now that her conscience had faded and she could barely feel or hear. An occasional quiet muttering escaped the lips of a shell-shocked pony trying to make sense of the event that that was now taking place.
Ponyville was burning!
The Great Mare trod cautious steps toward the hill by the river, watching over the burning town. Rarity followed with her eyes, but turned to Twilight.
"We won't rebuild, will we?" Rarity asked.
Twilight was hesitant to reply. Ponyville had withstood many thrashings and every time it had been restored. For the first time a destructive force had undergone the cold process of calculation and been woven with evil intent, specifically for this purpose. There was no chaos, there was no forewarning, and there was no communication – only fire and the snow of midwinter.
On the top of the hill a grand tree cast a great shadow as the full moon fell behind it. The hill shone blue from the reflection of the snow, contrasting the dim red on the other side of the river. There was a place of solitude, there was a place of hell, but safety was felt the greatest in the running water between them.
The Great Mare climbed the hill. This time Rarity turned to follow and slowly waded her way out of the cold waters. The freezing air stung her exposed underbelly and discouraged every move, but she forced herself to take the next step.
"I don't think we will..." Twilight whispered, with nopony to hear it.
"We can still save it, right?" Rarity called to the Great Mare. "You know what to do? What should be done now, don't you?"
No response.
Applejack broke out of her slumber, and hastily recounted all she knew. Her mind was hazy, as sleep was lost most to her. She broke away from the protective circle, leaving a small opening to the now exposed foals.
"Where are you going?" a concerned stallion asked.
"Must... go with... her..." Applejack mumbled as she dragged herself to Rarity's side.
Another stallion quickly took Applejack's place in the protective circle and nudged a familiar colt, which let loose a smile upon recognising his father.
Rarity was slowly catching up with the Great Mare, while Applejack stumbled and slipped trying to get a good footing. The top of the hill was near and the moon quickly disappeared behind the dead branches, glowing very dimly through the twigs.
"Please, tell me it is not too late. I beg you!" Rarity pleaded.
"She won't... answer, ye hear?" Applejack sighed. "Give 'er... give me some time and I'll..."
Rarity only now noticed Applejack struggling behind her. Making the decision between pursuing the mare or aiding her friend, Rarity rushed down the hill to support the swaying earth pony.
"Here, lean on me." She said. "I will carry you."
"Much obliged, Raridy... rity" Applejack chuckled. "I'm no good to myself right now."
The Great Mare stood on the top of the hill, glancing down on the two ponies; patiently awaiting their successful attempt at scaling the relatively petty mound. The cold had not gotten to her and she was with grips with her muscles, an art learnt from a harsh home. A home not shared with the ponies who now sought refuge in the water, out of fire's reach but awaiting of a frozen death.
"I heard 'em say it... they thought I was asleep. I heard 'em all." Applejack growled. "They blame 'im, they do."
"What are you talking about?" Rarity asked.
"They think those dragons were after revenge. I know they weren't, but nopony listens to me." Applejack shook her head and then gave Rarity a stern look. "They stood over the li'l 'uns and whispered. 'They would never have come had we not let him stay' they said. Scared some of the foals too, they did."
"You're angry, Applejack, and they are scared. Don't let them get to you so easily."
"I owe him a darn lot, for all of you. Now they forget everythin' that happened this fall. It's our fault. All our fault. Not his."
"Shush now, dear, we're at the top."
Stood next to the Great Mare, towering over the two ponies, the familiar figure could be seen. Crawled up into a frail ball of misery, the once proud and steadfast champion had been reduced to nothing.
"What's wrong with 'im?" Applejack asked.
"I don't understand it myself." The Great Mare replied. "Rarity?"
"Yes?"
"You taught him to speak our language; you must have learnt something that I have missed."
"Teaching is one thing. I didn't... we didn't..."
"Save it, sugarcube. It ain't no secret what you did. Only what you did to do it." Applejack interrupted. "Nopony here could have expected 'im to crumble under pressure, nopony except you."
The Great Mare threw her head violently, bit her lip and paused. An air of contempt was present and Rarity felt more intimidated than ever before.
"I should be the one to know him skin and bones,” the Great Mare snapped, “but I never knew that this... that thing hugging the tree could ever be reduced to this. This! I want to know what you saw, what happened to him, what changed him."
Rarity could barely breath. She had sworn an oath of secrecy, but the mare before her had never before appeared so ready to kill for an answer.
"You can tell us, hun. Only us three here." Applejack said.
"Tell me what you saw, what he is hiding." the Great Mare demanded again.
"His... face." Rarity whispered
"What?"
"Come again, hun?"
Rarity gave a final look at the pitiful creature, apologising with her eyes as she drew breath.
"It was not so long ago. He was weak and helpless, but he had fought so hard to hide it. I saw him wading out in the snow so I dragged him in. He tried to resist at first, but then I saw something. Tears. I never knew he could, but there was no end - he finally stopped fighting me and fell to the floor. I... I knew there was something wrong with him."
"Get to the point, Rarity" Applejack ushered.
"No, I want to hear this!" the mare snarled angrily.
"There was no way bringing him to the doctor would help, so I tried to investigate myself. The hide, the bracelets, the boots; he never tried to stop me, until the helmet was all that remained of his false skin. He wouldn't let me touch it, not even come near it. He flailed and he barked and I got scared. Then he took it off on his own."
"Tell me what you saw." The mare said with a sudden calmness.
"He was not warrior. No hunter. Not a champion. Nothing of the like." Rarity said.
"Then what?" Applejack asked.
"It was the face of a child."
A cold silence befell the three equines as Rarity had spoken. Applejack's mind had suddenly rekindled with focus, the Great Mare was stunned. Rarity was ashamed to have broken her promise.
"That thing, a mighty dragon slayer, you saw a kid in 'him!?" Applejack cried.
The words had been heard by the pathetic entity lurking in the tree trunk's shadow, and had sparked a reaction. The ball opened up and a pair of legs stomped heavily on the ground, flattening the snow into a solid platform. One of the creature's forelimbs slammed down on the ground and sunk the claws on its tips into the earth below and pulled the weighted figure up on its two. It growled, it wheezed, it spat; miserably so, but in a furore most terrifying. In the mixture between the coughing and the rapid breathing only a few words of any meaning could be heard. He had awoken from his self-pity and something had begun to burn within him. But not even the mare saw this to be a good sign.
"Twilight, he's goin' crazy!" Applejack shouted.
"He shouldn't act like this, hold him down!" the mare commanded."
Applejack was the first to rush in. She tried to pin him against the tree until Twilight could use her magic to sooth him, but something had given him unfathomable strength. He didn't try to push or pull Applejack away, instead he had set his claws upon her skin, trying to carve a path through her, starting from her back.
"Ow, argh! I ain't budgin' but somepony gotta help me now. Now-now-nah-argh!"
His claws sunk in under Applejack's skin and first blood had been drawn.
---
"And so with what evidence has the dress maker, known as Mareli of the Patriarchal Circle, been accused and confirmed for the below listed crimes:
Murder
- Punishable by the payment of blood money.
Falsifying information to an Officer of the Black Owl Court
- Punishable by the payment of an inconvenience compensation sum.
Desecration of a grave belonging to the Temple of Loathing
- Punishment to be decided only by the pride court.
Debauchery
- Punishable by death, or the removal of genitals.
It is the decision of the Black Owl Court, agreed and authorised by the enforcer, that the dress maker, known as Mareli of the Patriarchal Circle, hereby be sentenced to death by the sword." The judge said.
"These gatherings... you really hope that one day there would be no need to gather half the justiciars to court every time someone committed a death-warranted crime," the young justiciar remarked silently to his neighbour.
He was met by an intolerant look by his elder, but no words were uttered. The court had brought forth a lady from the Patriarchal Circle, otherwise devoid of reported crime. It was clear many of the justiciars were moved by this event, but the court demanded their silence. No one dared to speak their minds, even in whispers.
"If the accused now have anything to speak to her defence, I permit her now to do so." the judge asked.
"I'm innocent! Please, don't kill me!" she cried.
"Enforcer, I demand clarity." The judge ordered dismissively.
All justiciars gathered in the room wore the same attire: a dark grey split robe, a wide hat, a mask formed like the face of an owl; all except one. Stood next to the seated judge was one justiciar who wore an additional article - a silver chain around his neck. The enforcer stepped forward and demanded eye-contact from the woman.
"You speak a lie now, yet when we first confronted you there was only the truth," the enforcer said.
SPEAK TRUTH
The woman stood silent, but her face turned obedient and showed signs of deceit no more.
"Of the crimes listed you are guilty." The enforcer said. "Deny them."
"No, I am guilty of all of these crimes." The woman confessed. "I cannot deny them."
"So first you confess, then you try to deny your confession, now here we are again. You see, Mareli, there were never any doubt that you were guilty. But that a resident of the Patriarchal Circle forgets the justiciars are immune to treachery and deceit breaks my soul. You and your enclave are the first to learn that truth is not an object, it is reality," the judge said followed by a deep sigh.
The enforcer leaned in to the woman, balancing coyly on one foot, and brandished his ring, encrusted with a single pearl. He allowed her to observe it for a moment before whispering.
"Those of us who are enlightened cannot be told lies, nor tell them."
The woman was dumbstruck and dared not utter another word. She had admitted to her crimes, but had been eager to deny them fully. Once the enforcer had commanded truth, she could lie no longer. Perfect tyranny to trample crime.
"Take her to the courtyard," the enforcer ordered. "The execution shall be held anon."
Two justiciars seized the woman and dragged her towards the door. A man who had been stood next to the judge with the enforcer gave the judge a reminding nod.
"There is one last matter to attend to," the judge informed.
The justiciars stopped and turned the woman to the judge.
"The stallion, accessory to your crime. It has been decided we shall let the loathers have him. But for reasons you may well be aware, I would like to know his name."
"Not necessary." the enforcer assured. "We have already procured the document of pedigree. Like the loathers, we valued these enough to take matters into our own accord." The enforcer produced documentations from his robe. "I imagine when the loathers get their hands on him, they can rename him whatever they please."
Impatiently the man approached the enforcer and took the documents. He studied the texts carefully before looking at the
family tree. There was a brief moment when the man appeared pleased with the contents, before suddenly twitching a brow.
"A stud, but no good for anything else," he complained.
"The stallion is an offer of appeasement to the pride court, not a gift for a tyrant..." the enforcer said, "... you wish to pursue reprisal,” he challenged with a direct and informed ton as the same young justiciar found himself wondering why theirs’ was the language that lacked the question form.
The man growled. The enforcer had no fear of the loathers, and would show no more respect than due a fellow man, but in this particular instance he had little to spare. The loathers, he thought, were a savage lot and he would keep his dealings with them to a minimum. A hard goal, considering the enforcer was the grandmaster of the legal office watching over two of the three enclaves that separated the city. The loathers watched over their own.
"It is sufficient. But I presume you will deliver it personally," the man said and made his departure.
"I was hoping not to," the enforcer mumbled. "Men, courtyard, now!"
Electing to pass the execution onto his deputy, the enforcer made a hasty move for the stables where the repossessed stallion had been placed pending its re-homing. As he entered the box where the stallion stood, already outfitted with saddle and bit, the enforcer became aware of evidence pointing to negligence; the stable boy had neglected to prepare the enforcer's own mount. The enforcer would have to walk, not one to ride another man's horse.
"The loathers would cut up and feed the boy to the dragons," the enforcer growled as he lead the stallion out of the stables.
"Enforcer, I have urgent matters,” a justiciar said, meeting the enforcer on the courtyard.
"I will hear it."
"A child claimed to have spotted a dragon prowling the rooftops in the Common District. And it is likely bound for the Culling Grounds."
The enforcer spat.
"A loather let slip a dragon from the roost. Not only is Town Hall lost to the brood, now the dragons spill out," the enforcer snarled.
"By your orders I will see to tracking it down and lead it back to the roost."
The enforcer deliberated. He looked over to the centre of the courtyard where the woman was now bent on her knees. The deputy was passing the sentence, reciting the chant in its entirety.
"I wonder..." the enforcer mumbled.
The deputy drew his blade. The woman began to struggle, shrieking with every ounce of strength her lungs could muster.
The deputy held his blade up high, preparing a strike.
BE STILL
The woman became limp, slouching with her back her head hanging forward. The enforcer observed intently, tapping the stallions chin and nodding with his head. Whether a horse was intelligent enough to know what was about to happen was never a question interesting enough to ask, but perhaps, just perhaps. With a sharp thrust the deputy delivered a single, deadly blow.
"I wonder how long one lives... how long one may wallow in regret," the enforcer wondered out loud.
"Enforcer, by your orders I would handle the dragon," the justiciar repeated.
Slowly the enforcer turned to his subordinate. His lip gave off a twitch of amusement, provoking the justiciar to tilt his head.
"I wonder if it would not be best to leave the dragon," the enforcer suggested.
"The dragons are not precise. It would harm the commoners."
"But loathers were all commoners once. I wonder..."
"By your orders, enforcer, I would take care of the dragon."
"No. Leave it. Let no justiciar or agent of the Black Owl Court interfere."
"By your orders, enforcer," the justiciar said and bowed lowly in respect before retreating.
The enforcer gave a last look at the courtyard, looking at the lifeless woman, then to the stallion.
"A new master awaits you."
---
It was clumsy, too greedy and careless. Already from the start he knew he was being followed, but now he knew exactly by what, from what angle, distance and inclination. The dragon, barely old enough to have fully grown its wings, must have thought itself most clever when it sprang out of Town Hall. But it would not be food the dragon would find at the other end of the line - it would be a blade. The dragon was going to die young.
It was hard not to smirk at the faces of the commoners who only just realised what stalked the loather over the rooftops. Each one either falling to the ground or diving through the nearest door or window. But the loather kept a steady marching pace, never once giving away his knowledge of the dragon's presence, for that could make matters unpredictable.
Every step of the stairs ahead of him was climbed with a rhythmic skip, never once failing to appear childishly ignorant. And a dragon, if only smart enough to hear the words of others, would think the townsfolk were, in fact, shirking away from the loather itself; for that was the magnitude of fear and respect they commanded.
A justiciar appeared around the corner at the top of the steps. Upon noticing the loather and, likely, its follower he obediently stepped aside, allowing the loather to pass. He would have interfered, no doubt, but had chosen not to. Simple guess: he had been ordered not to. Good. He would have the dragon all to himself. Now to plan the attack.
Crossing the borders out of the Common District into the Culling Grounds a familiar figure caught the loather’s attention. The figure would prove an unwelcome addition, and he did not want to share this kill. Coming closer without much reaction implied the dragon had not yet scaled the stairs, which made this the optimal time to briefly break cover and send away the intruder.
"I awaited you -" the other loather began.
"Stand aside, Marksman, this one belongs to me," he said behind clenched teeth.
Marksman made a sharp turn and observed in his peripherals the follower appearing from behind the stairs. With that Marksman gave the loather an acknowledging grin and made off. Before the loather stood the Great Hall of Horses, a stable of great proportion to the typical farm sized ones. That would make an ideal battleground; enclosed, many rooms, places to hide, little space for a dragon to manoeuvre. The loather delved inconspicuously into the hall and entered the first room open where neither horse nor young could be caught in the midst.
Hiding behind the door the loather drew his sword and held it over his head, ready for a swift sweep. The dragon had yet to make a sound, likely it had not entered the stables. Foolish enough to follow, cautious enough not to catch up too quickly. The kill would be all the more satisfying with anticipation to spice it.
The sudden sound of neighing broke the loather’s concentration and he looked to investigate the source. Fury enraptured when he discovered his own horse left unattended before him. His own horse behind bars in a room with an open door, at a critical time like this - a young would pay dearly for the insolence, but now was not the time.
The dragon had entered the stable and its heavy, cumbersome steps on the stone floor measured accurately its distance. The stench of its breath contaminated the air with a provocative aura, a scent of confidence from an inferior mind. The horse was much alarmed by the smell and clamoured, causing the dragon to immediately spring for the kill. The loather was now beyond himself, a single moment of hesitation and he would lose his most prized treasure, and, possibly, his own life.
As a head came through the door opening the loather made a rough estimate on how to align the sweep to connect with the
throat, one good hit and he would win. He swung, but the dragon moved too quickly, and his blade simply severed the leather on one wing. The dragon could have ignored the inconvenience, but stopped to challenge his interceptor. The loather was at a disadvantage.
The dragon snapped at the loather, trying to bite into his flesh. The loather barely dodged with a hair to spare, but he had no vantage from which to strike. His blade was held low and unable to gain momentum enough to lacerate the hide. The dragon rebound from the wall and bared his fangs for another attack. In a fool's gamble the loather raised his blade to meet the bite as the dragon struck. Sliding hopelessly along the dragon's gum and lip the blade almost fell out of the loather’s grip before he could jump after it. A fighting chance appeared now that his blade had aligned itself into a perfect stroke. He swung with full force, holding tightly the hilt with both hands.
The blade cut deep into the root of the neck, triggering a strong jerk reaction from the dragon who staggered backwards in panic. The head held low, preventing a good swing from severing the neck completely. The loather roared from the bottom of his lungs:
STAND HIGH!
The dragon stomped heavily on the floor while reaching the ceiling with his wings, and the head came high with it. The loather charged and swung once again at the root of the neck, but too early. The blow glanced and did little to sever. Next swing had to count for final. The dragon regained control and tried to snare the loather with his claws to bite from above. The loather swung up high to counter the offence, scoring a solid cut deep into the throat just under the mandibles. The two separated once again.
The horse was in a state of panic, kicking the walls trying to find an escape. The wild wailing of the fight could not go unnoticed any longer, to secure a personal victory the next swing would have to be victorious. The loather, howling like a wild animal, spun the sword above his head for added momentum and struck, like an axe, down on the dragon's neck, held to the side as it had tried to cower by the wall. The spine would barely hold what little flesh was uncut. The loather clutched the dragon by the horn and, as a young came running in, tore the dragon's head of its base. The young screamed in terror.
The dragon, no less than three times the loather’s size, had been slain.
Facing the young, the loather brandished the head, eyes still rolling, and barked with vindication.
"My horse, unguarded. You must aspire beyond the gods, young."
The young did not reply.
"Know your place, young, and see that the withered clean the corpse away. I must take my horse away from this vile tomb."
The loather approached the horse.
CALM DOWN
The horse stopped its struggles, stopped kicking and lost its energy to fight. The loather opened the gate and led the horse out. As he neared the door opening the young was still stood where he had been left. The loather heeded no respect and kicked him aside, leaving the young on the floor, stained with the red spilt from the dragon's carcass. He then led the horse out of the stables.
---
"No, you idiots, he's getting away. Get him!" the curator commanded the other ponies in anger.
Panic was wide-spread as the specimen had broken free from his bindings. Discretion had been the goal, but now a monster would haunt the midnight streets.
"He's not that fast, just take him!" he ordered.
"You, Sir, can chase him if you like. I'm going nowhere near something that runs like that!"
Only half the plan had gone off as predicted, but now the unexpected had become a reality. Half the group were chasing down the specimen, half the group refused to fight and remained in the study.
"I can't believe we were so stupid! Taking that... thing in here," one of the stallions complained.
"Harmless until awake. How did we come to the conclusion that he... I mean it, was even herbivorous?"
"Somepony was stealing the food, it had to be that thing."
A loud cry came from under the toppled bookcase.
"He's alive?" a stallion yelled. "Help me out here. Let's get him up on his hooves!"
Together three stallions raised the bookcase and observed the rolled up unicorn cowering under the books.
"Is he gone?!" the unicorn asked.
"Yeah, that's the problem."
"How am I? What did he do to me?" the unicorn asked.
There were no immediate signs of injuries. The coat was rustled, but not bruised, the hooves were all aligned as they should and the unicorn was most certainly not dead. However, his horn was mostly missing.
"I think he shattered your horn, there. There's only the base left."
"My horn? But I didn't even..."
There was not even that much blood, just imperfect cracks from the area the horn dislodged.
"Where is it? Can you see it anywhere?"
"Umm... no. It's nowhere to be seen!"
"He took it?!" the unicorn cried. "What a psycho! My bloody horn is gone!"
"It'll grow back, don't you worry. We have bigger problems on our hooves."
Another stallion came crawling into the room; red under the chin. He wheezed uncontrollably and spat.
"Well? Did you get it?"
"No..." the stallion replied, swallowing the dry spit. "I had to stop when he tried to knife me with that horn. Where did he get that from anyway?"
The stallion quickly spotted the hornless unicorn and let out an ironic laughter.
"If there ever were a total wash-up in the history of zoology, this has got to be it." He joked. "You would never have to worry about first impressions when studying insects."
"We're all doomed," the unicorn whined.
"No, no we're not," the curator said. "You will still head out on your scheduled expedition as planned, but you will take another partner with you. I need every pegasus on the team to bring this creature back in. At any cost, dead or alive."
A pegasus came knocking on the window with the face of somepony who had seen a ghost. The curator opened the window and growled.
"What? Have you captured him yet?"
"Bad news, curator. Umm... Errantworth is dead."
"What?!"
"He tried to hold that thing, but then something happened. You should see this for yourself," the pegasus finished and flew off up the road.
The team assembled far up the road and into a dark alleyway where they were met with a most foul sight.
"What happened to his face?" the unicorn asked.
"It's... sunken in."
"Where the heck's the skull?!"
"Shush, idiot. We can't be too loud!"
One of the stallions stepped forward and examined the face. He prodded it cautiously before making the final diagnosis.
"His cranium is there... but somehow... somehow it's crumbled. Like porcelain."
"What, did he get beaten to death?" the unicorn asked.
"No." The pegasus replied. "That thing just yelled in Errantworth's face and he went limp."
"I want every pegasus we have ready to fly." The curator ordered. "What we have here is a vindictive monster out on the run and anypony he runs into will most likely not have the benefit of a doubt. He may strike indiscriminately and ferociously at anypony he finds, and before that happens, I want him gone."
"What are you saying?" the pegasus asked.
"Kill him. We need him dead." The curator said. "And get rid of that body. Nopony would be aware of Errantworth's relation to us, so a missing body is better than a mutilated body."
The stallions stood in silence, hardly believing what the curator had told them. But obey they did.
In the deep delves of the dark and dank Everfree Forest lives an unexpected occupant; a zebra who has made home where no pony else normally dares to tread. There the zebra lives her life in peace, brewing and mixing exotic remedies and cooking agents. Her name is Zecora and she is very much a private zebra, an unusual trait for her kind, and she flourishes when the air smells of freedom. But this day was not to be spent alone, as she expected a visitor.
The door knocked and Zecora was fast to answer the call. Skipping her way to the door, she was excited beyond measure opened the door with an wide, hearty smile.
"Come in, come in, my dear. The tea's been boiled and I have awaited you here," Zecora sang.
In through the door came the lavender unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, carrying a parcel with her. Zecora gave Twilight a welcoming bow and presented her with a chair by the table.
"It took me some time to convince Pinkie Pie not to follow me, but I think I let her down easy. I knew you were excited to know this book had made its way to my library, but, wow, you're more worked up than I'd imagined you ever being," Twilight said.
"Oh why, I can't even hold myself, to think I will finally be able to put that book on my shelf. Such stories from my young time, I even sometimes forget to rhyme!" the zebra giggled.
"I'm sorry for taking a sneak peak at it before packing it, but may I ask: what material is this made of? I couldn't quite figure it out."
"Bark, my friend, from my home land. The scribes would carve them for time to withstand. And this is a particular text I've followed since small, to think that finding one here in Equestria..." Zecora said, not able to finish the sentence in her usual way.
"Wow, you're right. You really must be excited."
Twilight placed the parcel on the table and undid the wrapping with her magic. An easy task for a unicorn. Inside the wrappings laid an thick, dark bark book. On top of the book was a note Twilight had added herself. The note said: Happy Birthday, Zecora.
Zecora produced two cups and poured up her home made herbal tea. She admired the quality the book had maintained and barely let her eyes off it.
"Say, I can't read the content, and so I was wondering..."
"The book, itself, is the documentation of a zebra named Jua, who travels the world to see its inhabitants. He would always entertain the colts and fillies back home with his stories, and always bring specimens with him for the folk to look at," Zecora explained. "Oh, I forget to rhyme, again."
"And this is a nice piece of nostalgia to you?" Twilight asked.
"Yes, and no. You see, this is a revised edition, from Jua's latest journey. And I had been hoping to read it in a hurry."
"Well why don't you read it to me?" Twilight suggested.
"Oh I'd love to, but it's the latest chapter which I seek. You don't mind?"
"Not at all. And hearing you speak normal is actually quite entertaining," Twilight joked.
"Well I won't be able to rhyme anyway as the text is in my mother tongue. So I guess this is as good a time to stop trying to rhyme," Zecora said and giggled.
Zecora opened the book and hastily flicked through the pages until she found what she was looking for. As she did she recounted all the chapters' names in her own tongue before translating the final one for Twilight to understand.
"The slavers; a journey in the horses' land. Oh my."
"The what-now?"
"The horse slavers, the great slavers... the word slave recurs in the pre-text, here 'mtumwa'. Just north-east of Equestria, beyond a great mountain range on the ocean, a week's sailing."
Zecora paused unexpectedly. Her enthusiasm had gone completely and her mouth was left agape.
"Wait, slavers. Has there been nothing like that before?" Twilight asked.
"No, just intriguing accounts of different cultures, lack thereof, or very grand, and the discovery of empty lands." Zecora flipped back and fourth between a few pages before continuing. "I don't think this will be a pleasant story."
"Well read it anyway, then you'll know."
"Dare I?" Zecora thought aloud. "Okay, let's see here."
While I keep myself to the edge of their society I often have to run when the smaller ones chase me. The slavers are an ugly lot and most eerie to behold up close. I practise caution above all else.
It is sometimes easy to forget what you are capable of when observing the actions of the creatures you discover. Though I carve this text now, I have witnessed through my looking glass [telescope] the robed slaver scribe with the thinnest pin and ink I have ever seen, using fleshy claws on the tip of his forelimbs. They stand on two and are of dreadful proportions, like they could snap in two if you kicked them, yet none dares to try.
There they stand, the horses, behind fences even I can jump over. They want for no freedom. And they are enormous horses, likely the type that kicks down trees for their leaves. But their minds are bound. In the dark of night I visited one of them [the horses] and tried to learn about this slaver kind. I was surprised to hear what the horse knew.
The horse slavers are the ruling masters of the realm, even the savage lizards pause before they cross the slavers' path, yet they are sometimes nearly forty-so times larger in size.
"It doesn't just end there does it?"
"No, just the end of the page," Zecora said, "this is actually a little scary, but I suppose we are of age."
"I guess I am a little bit desensitized," Twilight sighed. "So he found a 'thing' that actually enslaves horses? Wow, I thought they were a rare sight here in Equestria, and that makes me wonder a bit where they all are."
"Here, next page."
I moved on to another camp, after the small slavers had found my earlier post, but that was discovered by a grown slaver before long. I don't know what I did, but he decided to leave me alone. I stayed put where I was for the next day. When I came back after a trip to find food I discovered that some of the small slavers, which now I assume are their children, had left me a basket of foods. Something about my striped body must have made me look unique and deserving of some hospitality - some religion, I suppose. They keep repeating the words 'rand' and 'enen' to me, but I don't know if that is the names they gave me or if it is a greeting.
"Why does he write like that?" Twilight asked.
"This book is not his whole account. Jua would take notes, carve figures and tell the rest by mouth. On bark we have limited space, so we use it to aid our stories face-to-face."
"So this is just a brief mention of things he wants to make sure he remembers?"
"Correct. Though maybe not so direct."
From the safety of my boat I observed the lands through my looking glass. I have started to see familiar things here. Bears and wolves, ravens and even small sparrows. The fauna has remained mostly the same, but the greater beings are different. They were skinning dead wolves by a camp. I always feared the wolves. These slavers are fearless.
I think it possible I saw a unicorn. It was glowing, but definitely an equine of sorts. It ran away when it saw my boat. The slavers have boats, bigger boats. I hope they do not sail far as I do. I think the slavers mock me, they laughed at my boat and gave me a wide birth.
I think I saw Primum pulling a carriage, though I cannot be certain.
"I don't mean to be rude, but is there anything more interesting than his brief mentions of small matters? Something bigger perhaps?"
"You are right to be confused by this text. But do not think bad of what might come next. You may miss out of important clues, and then the only one to blame is you."
"You're rhyming again, I was beginning to miss it. Then why don't you give that a good read and we'll talk about it when I come over next time, okay?" Twilight suggested.
"I wish I could be there now to hear Jua tell this tale. Perhaps, as you say, reading his notes becomes quickly stale," Zecora sighed.
Twilight finished her tea and made her way to the door. Zecora kept going through the pages and before Twilight had time to exit, Zecora stopped her with a 'wait'.
"There is more to this chapter than I saw before. A carving of the creature, here, showing us their every feature."
Twilight nearly flew back to Zecora's side and glanced down onto the bark book. There was a primitive sketch of a zebra stood next to a horse. Next to the horse an elongated bipedal shape. Like a stick with clawed forelimbs that did not reach the ground. It also had a face, with a perpetual smile but misshapen teeth as if partly canine. The eyes were small and narrow, and the figure had no immediately recognisable resemblance to any animal Twilight could think on top of her head - save for perhaps those diamond dogs, but this creature had neither ears nor tail, and its legs were straight, it was completely straight standing.
"Wow, now that is interesting. And this Jua is always honest?"
"Never has he told a lie, why he would rather lay down and die. He would always account the from to where for anypony who would want to go there. But I suspect this time he remained vague, even he would not want his-..."
"Yeah- I think I get the idea. Only a week? Why have I never heard of these things before?" Twilight asked herself out loud.
Twilight would ponder upon this for the rest of the day.
---
Home again since long ago, Twilight had a quick catch-up on her newly arrived inventory. Books to replace the damaged ones, books she had not had before, books so she would have extras to spare. It was then she came upon a startling anomaly. Amongst the boxes signed for her address laid a carton that did not belong. The carton was the saved wrapping for a family-sized treat, and clearly belonged in a recycle bin. However there was a strange taped-on note labelled 'Bacoltermann', but no address.
"Twilight can't we just deal with all this tomorrow? It's been a really long day just going through the invoice and the accounts," Spike complained.
"You go, I want to take a look at this one," Twilight answered.
"Oh, that one. Yeah, some scribbles that's all."
Twilight's interest peaked and she rapidly unpacked the contents onto the floor. She skimmed every article numerous times before noticing an interesting thing. The sketch was similar to the carving by Jua. The text came under the following heading.
I sat on my own in the rain by the pier, enjoying the company of my cider, aged just a month past its expiration date. I had hoped to see one of the ships I helped construct show itself on the horizon as today was the due arrival of my legacy, The Canterborough. It did not show, however, and I could not quite put my hoof on it. Something was amiss.
"And finally some concise writing!" Twilight cheered.
We maintained what would surely constitute eye contact as we gazed upon one another intensively. I paused to see if maybe I had another drop left in my bottle, but when I shifted my eyes upon that boat again the other sailor mimicked my action and produced a bottle of his own. A strange humour could be derided from this momentous occasion. I may have had discovered a new specie altogether!
Unfortunately the rain worsened at that point and soon we lost sight of one another. It was truly a spectacular sight so strange, so surreal, and so savoury.
I asked around the waterfront to see if any of the sailors might have recognised the figure. I was happy to hear the boat was well known to the crew of The Canterborough, who claimed to have seen it in the rain. Nopony could confirm the strange figure, however.
I read through the dictionary for lack of a muse and the word 'wight' came to mind. I shall call this creature a Wight, and this particular one the Wight of the Water. My son drew this interpretation - a little liberal with the creativity, but it captivates better than I could the Wight's visage. Please find it attached to this letter.
I hope that you will take good care to investigate this matter, I do not approach you with this matter easily - and I have decided to keep this information on a low profile, pending your findings.
The drawing mentioned was nowhere to be seen.
"Wow. Okay, now I am kind of excited. So there is actually a chance that they have come to Equestria."
"Who's come to Equestria?" Spike asked.
"I didn't tell you. When I was at Zecora's today and delivered that book she told me about a zebra name Jua who travels the world. He discovered uncharted lands north-east of Equestria where a strange animal that 'enslaved' horses rules," Twilight explained.
"Enslave horses? That's a bit, much," Spike remarked with clear scepticism. "I will believe that when I see it."
"Here, Spike, look. It looks something like this, I think," Twilight said and quickly drew out on a piece of paper what she recalled from Jua's carving, and added a boat for it to stand in.
"Dynamic. I really like how the waves splash around him like he was some sort of cliff," Spike said sarcastically.
"Hey, it said here it was sailing in a boat, okay. Appreciate a little creative freedom."
"Well I don't think it helped any pony achieve any credibility. I mean, c'mon, who could take any pony seriously with that as a reference?" Spike asked.
"You already looked through these?"
"Well, duh, I thought I made that clear."
Twilight gave Spike a frown, but kept on browsing the scattered pages.
"There is no mention of where this took place or when. How am I supposed to use this information without such important data?"
"How about not? Twilight, you are busy enough as it is. You should just get some sleep instead," Spike suggested as he left for bed.
"Yeah, you're right. I guess I just feel a little guilty for removing myself from Zecora so readily."
"How long did you sleep last night?" Spike asked.
"Enough, just had to look through these papers again. Clearly something is missing, but I don't know what."
"Not at all, then? Huh. Figures."
"Spike what happened to that carton? I thought I put it aside, but now I can't find it."
"How important could it be?"
"I might have left a page in it, I must find it now. Quick-quick-quick!"
Twilight's eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. Something had sparked her desire for knowledge. But what?
"Twilight, what happened?"
"Big Macintosh came by this morning in a hurry; says Winona was taken by a strange creature and now they have no idea what happened to her. But I think I know who did it!" Twilight informed in a hurry.
"And what does that have to do with this - what did you call it? Wight?"
"When I went over to ask about the incident Applejack said she glimpsed a horse retreating from the scene, on it was something she didn't know what it was. But I think I do!"
"Well I wonder what that might be. How many guesses do I get?"
"No need, because I think I know where to go. I will be going to the Trottingham Waterfront and do my own research there! Oh, I haven't been this worked up since that time travel incident so long ago," Twilight exclaimed
"And we all saw how well that turned out."
"I will be the first one to admit that I took matters too far then, but I have since learnt restraint. Tonight I sleep and head off tomorrow. I could not leave without first speaking to all my friends first. And I most certainly will not make a fool of myself should my plan not go so well. If I find nothing, then there is nothing, and I will return home right away," Twilight assured Spike with a grin. "I will be gone three days, max. Promise."
"Well I won't hold my breath," Spike grunted. "I will go and make breakfast."
Nothing but bugs and birds buzzing and bickering in the green as the sun slowly fell behind the horizon. A busy day of bucking the late summer arrows left a particular appetite in the orange pony, appetite for home cooked apple pie; and the spoils of the day more than justified this treat. Now it was only to close up the barn and call it a day.
Applejack rang the bell, signalling for Big Macintosh and Apple Bloom to come inside, but after a long wait Applejack was surprised to see only her younger sister coming.
"Apple Bloom, where's Big Mac? Weren't he with you?" Applejack asked.
"I dunno, I haven't seen 'im for a while now."
"Well then he eats cold, nothin' more to it, I guess."
Only once the sun had finally fallen out of sight and the moon taken its place did the great red stallion come back home. He did not say much more than the typical 'I'm home' and made himself comfortable.
"Where you been?" Applejack asked.
"The fields," He answered shortly.
"Well ain't no service here. I ain't a waitress, y'know."
Big Macintosh sighed amusedly and made his way to the kitchen. He stopped briefly but shook his head and continued.
"What's on your mind, brother?" she asked.
"Something in the wind is all; can't quite put my hooves on it."
"Well that could be just about anything. Mind being more specific?"
Big Macintosh did not answer for another while; in the meantime he helped himself to a late dinner. After finishing half his meal he suddenly found the words.
"There was the strangest chill in the air as I bucked the trees. Chill that touches deep down the back, like it was winter."
"A cold wind?" Applejack said in disbelief. "Hasn't been this hot in ages. We even keep the windows open at night."
"I think something's coming. And I don't like the way it feels," Big Macintosh said worriedly before continuing his meal.
Not one to overreact easily, and certainly reliable for valuable input, Applejack could not help but feel maybe her brother was right. But if something was on its way, and if that something could be bad, Pinkie Pie would be the one to know first. However, nothing of the likes had come up, so perhaps it would be some time yet before she had to worry.
"Hey sister, I forgot to tell ya earlier about something that happened in school," Apple Bloom said.
"Oh, and what is that?"
"So there we were in recess when suddenly the fillies and colts were gatherin' around in a big circle. We didn't know what it was 'bout so we decided to check it out. Pipsqueak was sittin' there drawin - and he's a pretty good drawer - but so when we get in close and look at his art he hadn't been drawin' ponies or anythin'. He was drawin' this weird thing that looked like an ugly monster and he was tellin' everypony about it like it was a real thing, and that was kind of scary..."
"Apple Bloom, slow down. I can barely keep up with you now," Applejack interrupted.
"Uh, sorry. So he said it was a local legend from Trottingham, the Weight of the Watchers or sumethin', he said. And it is this thing that lurks in the waters. Kind of scary really. So I am glad we don't live near there. But then Pipsqueak said somethin' pretty scary. Guess what?"
"No, Apple Bloom, I can't."
"Well he said that ponies have witnessed it runnin' around on land, and it has this strange ability, like magic, but different and it steals food."
"That's just silly, little sister. Besides a food thief can't be that dangerous, so what of it?"
"Well it looks kinda like this," Apple Bloom replied and brought forward a drawing.
The deformed figure in the drawing looked hungry enough to eat a foal, and sinister enough to like the thought. The expertly added cross-hatch shading only served to make whatever the face was meant to be to look all the more aggressive. A monster, sure enough.
"Wow, gotta admit it: that is pretty scary. Now it's time for bed, there's school tomorrow too, ya hear."
"Aw, I'm goin'," Apple Bloom sighed.
"That means you too, brother."
--- Later at Night ---
Applejack was awoken by the not too unpredictable clamour from Granny Smith's room. Having been disturbed by a night terror, the old mare had jumped out of bed screaming, and Applejack was there to answer the call.
"What is it now, Granny. Something new you dreamt about?" she asked.
"Oh, no, no. Just them old wolves in my head. Gives me such a fright now that I am so old and helpless," Granny Smith explained as she slowly reached for the bed.
"Well you know the wolves won't get you here. You're just having them bad dreams."
"What, no, no. Don't you worry none, the wolves won't get anypony here. I was just having them bad dreams," Granny Smith assured. "Now would you be a doll and help me up? I can't seem to reach the bed here."
"Way ahead of ya," Applejack chuckled.
When Granny Smith was finally back in bed and Applejack started toward the door, Granny called out quietly.
"AJ, I think Apple Bloom has a little thing with her head. She was talkin' and talkin' to herself earlier in her room and I think she has a little thing with her head," She said, the sleepiness causing her to speak in circles. "Wight, she said, of the Waters. Uncle Apple Strudel was sayin' something about that one too. I think it's one of them ponytales that circles around now."
"So, what're ya sayin'?" Applejack asked.
"Some ponytales, you sometimes find, are true. And I don't like one bit about this one. Vengeful souls about is not a good omen."
"What was that?"
Granny Smith had fallen asleep before she could repeat herself. Applejack felt a little weary with what had been said. A ponytale was just a ponytale, and this one had come as far away as Trottingham. But then again, the whole scene with Zecora just a year ago had itself elements of truth in it, even if the poison joke had been to blame. This time, however, there would be no poison jokes. Only uncertain danger.
On her way back to her room Applejack noticed a dim light emanating from below the threshold to Apple Bloom's room. Seeing as there would be no reason for Apple Bloom not to have heard Applejack's hoof steps, the only logical conclusion would be that she had fallen asleep before blowing out her candle. Applejack carefully pushed the door open slightly and slowly leaned in through the door opening.
To her surprise Apple Bloom was very much awake, peaking out the window through the small gap between the curtain and the window frame. She appeared enthralled by what she was observing.
"Apple Bloom, what're ya doin' up so late at night?"
Apple Bloom threw herself backwards with a high-pitched squeal.
"No! Down, quiet!" Apple Bloom yelled through her teeth.
"Manners, girl, why are you-"
"Please, down, somethin's in the orchard!"
Applejack gave in and crawled over to Apple Bloom's side.
"What're ya talkin' 'bout?" she asked.
"Somethin's in the barn and its clawin' crazy-like trying to get out!"
Applejack stood up and looked out. The barn doors were rocking back and forth and a clearly audible scratching noise sounded from every rock.
"Down, it might see ya."
"It's in a barn with the doors locked, AB, it can't see me."
"What if it is that thing. What if it's stealin' the food?"
"That Wight? That's just a ponytale. Besides if such a thing is stealin' our food it won't take it anywhere."
"How do you know?"
Applejack made a quick headcount of the occupants of the orchard and came to a realisation.
"Aw, cinnamon sticks. I must have accidentally locked Winona in the barn," Applejack exclaimed. "I gotta go and let her out quick-like."
"No! It might be dangerous out there, stay with me!" Apple Bloom whined. "Don't leave me!"
Applejack sprang down the stairs to her dog's aid. The poor house pet must be absolutely distraught by now, alone in the dark.
"Don't worry Winona, AJ's here! Just calm down and don't dig a hole through the door."
However, hearing the dog clearly, there appeared to be a curious lack of fright in Winona's bark. Winona actually sounded quite aggressive, as if she was trying to set her teeth upon an intruder.
"Winona, what's the matter with you?" Applejack asked as she began opening the door.
Barely had the door opened enough for Winona's head to fit through before she squeezed through and darted out into the shadows of the apple orchard, barking madly.
"Winona, come back here!" Applejack shouted as she ran after the enraged canine.
"AJ, come back!" Apple Bloom called out from the now open window.
"Wake Big Mac!"
The leaves of the trees covered the little light to be had from the moon, and Applejack could hear Winona's barks becoming more and more distant. Soon she might not be able to find where she ran off to.
"Winona, here! Now!" she commanded. "Come here!"
The barking ceased briefly, but resumed with reinforced passion, as if Winona had found her mark. The culprit became much less intimidating when the loud wailing of an equine called out.
"Got you now, apple thief," Applejack growled as she put more gumph in here stride. "Winona get 'im!"
Suddenly a third voice called out. It was in a foreign language that could not have been Zecora's, but it was definitely foreign. It sounded commanding, as if ordering Winona, or maybe the other equine to do something. Whatever it said it made Winona stop barking briefly. However not long after that Winona gave off one last bark before turning to a deep and violent snarl.
"Get 'im, Winona!" Applejack yelled again, but she would quickly regret that.
The dog whined loudly, like a banshee, and the voice clamoured a second time. Then ensuing was an intimidating heavy rhythmic beating of hooves, galloping in Applejack's direction. Winona made an attempt at barking, but cried out in instead; she had been hurt, no question about it. The nearing hooves began to shake the ground as a humongous equine silhouette revealed itself briefly in the moonlight. Applejack had already lost her focus on the intruder, but she could have sworn she saw a disfigured entity mounted upon the equine's back, staring at her, with moon-like eyes. The two parties parted ways and the intruder turned and disappeared once again.
"Winona, where are you? Call to me!" Applejack yelled.
There was no response.
"Winona, here girl! Where are you!?" she tried again.
The silence was unbearable.
"The thief took her!" Applejack growled in realisation.
Trying to give chase Applejack bound herself for the direction she recalled her thief had run off to. No matter how hard she tried, the heavy hooves were simply not audible any more. Silence, forever more. The intruder had made off with Winona.
Big Macintosh was shouting on top of his lungs in the far distance, trying to find Applejack. Distress was in the air as even he must have seen the outsider.
"I'm over here, brother! Over here!"
"Where?!"
"Here!"
As the two siblings met up Applejack could see the distraught expression in her brother's face. He was almost too ashamed to look into her eyes.
"I tried to catch him. But that pony was too fast," He said, panting heavily.
"That was no pony, brother. That there was a horse. No way you could have."
"Where's Winona?"
"I think he took her. She went dead silent."
"Don't say that. She must be out here somewhere!"
"I don't think so."
Applejack hung her head down is disbelief, feeling powerless to undo the damage.
"I shouldn't have let her out of the barn."
--- The next morning ---
"I know how you must feel right now, Applejack, but I need you to answer a few questions for me, please," Twilight said carefully. "I think I know who, I mean what, did this. But I need to know for sure."
"I don't get it. Why would anypony want to hurt Winona?" Apple Bloom asked.
"She tried to take on a bigger match than she could handle. Too brave for her size," Big Macintosh replied. "A horse and its partner in crime."
"Who was it? Did you see anything?" Apple Bloom pried.
"You were right, AB, I should have just stayed with you, and let Winona stay in the barn."
"I never ordered you," Apple Bloom deflected, trying somehow to redirect blame from her older sister.
"But you wanted it. And you were right. Had it not been for me, Winona would be out of the barn now, and we'd be buckin' apples for cider," Applejack shed a tear. "And Winona would never have attacked that thing."
"What thing?" Apple Bloom asked. "The horse?"
"It was not a ponytale. It was for real," Applejack cried. "The one you showed me, Apple Bloom; the Wight of the Waters."
The summer streaming sunlight, soothing the chill of fast flight, helped keep the keen wings in wind for the Mailmare pegasus. The day had come to high noon where the sun stood hallowed at its highest, well above one's peripherals, allowing for clear visuals; and "what a day!" she sang. Not a cloud in the sky and the peace of the woodlands below; shame about the haste or she could have listened to the critters below.
Only a few more moments and the pegasus could stop for her lunch, and how lovely that would be. She began to decelerate while keeping a lookout for an adequate landing zone. Very quickly did she start hearing the chirping of birds, signalling safety to all around. Not that danger was any kind of worry in these woods, considering there were no dangerous animals in it.
There it was, a tall mound sticking out in a clearing. A perfect place to perch over the surrounding area and admire the lush greens. She hastily dug out her lunch box and set up her plate and bottle. Lunch was to be had in style.
Not far into her sandwich the pegasus' break was bisturbed by a heavy rustling in the bushes ahead. A brief moment of pre-caution caused her to instinctively throw her food back into the box and packed up. However, remembering that this forest was widely considered the safest in the region - according to the Annual Wildlife Report, 'Forest Friends' Scouting Society', issue #42 - the benefit of a doubt was in order.
"Hello?" the pegasus called.
Out from the bushes stumbled a doe, lost for balance, lost for direction, lost for self-awareness, tumbling to the ground without any attempt of recovery.
"Are you okay?" the pegasus asked as she hurried to the deer's side.
The doe mumbled unintelligibly as it wheezed for air.
"Are you thirsty? I have some water, one second."
The pegasus rushed back to her saddlebag and retrieved her water bottle. The doe had to have been exhausted, as by the sound of her, she had come running from a far distance to get here.
"Here, drink this."
The doe obeyed and clumsily swallowed each mouthful of water with degrading levels of success.
"What happened to you? Why were you running?"
"A monster attacked me and my friend. We split up, but I think the monster wanted me," the doe replied.
"Monster? What monster?"
The doe paused before replying.
"Tall, slender and really secret. It lured us over by pretending to be one of us."
"How?"
"I thought for sure it was another deer calling for company. But it was that monster making the noises."
"What monster, where?"
"I was attacked by a monster," the doe repeated.
"You already said that."
The doe's eyes became unresponsive, staring into the emptiness.
"Where is the monster?"
"A monster attacked me," the doe repeated once more.
"Where is it? What did it do you?"
The doe kept repeating the same sentence, each time with degrading success, but she kept trying to say the same four words. The pegasus tried to assess what could have done this to the doe, she looked over and over again at the legs, throat, chest and belly, but saw no markings. Then she noticed the red seeping from below the doe.
"I'm going to have to turn you, okay. Be ready now."
The pegasus pushed as hard as she could, while still trying not to hurt the doe. Already with the doe only on her back could the pegasus see the injury. Something had stung the doe really badly on the side, just by the hind leg. The mark was deep, but appeared too clean for anything she could recognise, it seemed almost surgical.
"What did this?" she asked.
The doe had now reduced her speech do a whispering mumble, apparently saying the same words, but now hardly recognisable. " Monster" came out easily enough.
Everything was going so fast now and the pegasus had completely neglected to watch her back, and now she didn't dare. The sound of alien hooves descended from the mound behind her, accompanied by the clanger of metal. The birds were too silent. The pegasus took flight, there was no need to look behind her, she did not want to see it.
COME BACK
A voice had crawled all the way from her ears down the bottom of her spine and seeped coldly down her legs, as if suddenly submerged in icy water. She obeyed and landed not far off from the doe. She shut her eyes as her body fought against her and slowly walked back to the doe.
"Why am I doing this?" she asked herself. "I have to get out of here."
The steps from the alien stopped, well away from the pegasus.
LOOK AT ME
Though her body was now her's to control again her eyes pulled open to gaze upon the monstrous entity before her, even with her struggling not to. Tall, bipedal, clawed, reeking with a malicious aura and wet iron. It was nothing she had ever seen, nor anything she had hoped to see in a thousand lifetimes. Those eyes, pale and marked as the moon, staring, reading her every dimension. It was the very eyes of a predator. If now was the end of her life, it did not come fast. Uncertainty was the only element. And the predator read her like an anatomical illustration on a poster; the eerie eyes flickered and twitched rapidly, each time stopping at the very slightest change of angle, each time remarking, assessing and evaluating a new part of her body.
ENOUGH, GO
Fully in control of her body again, the pegasus did not hesitate to take flight again. This time she would not stop until she arrived at her destination. What had only transpired within seconds was enough to fill a library with documentations, so many details to remember. What was that thing?
--- Ponyville ---
The frightened pegasus flew as fast as she could. She had not looked back once since her escape, and she had even left behind her delivery. She could see Ponyville within an eyeshot, where she had been bound. Nearer and nearer and she could now begin to see the townsfolk. She screamed, she yelled as loud as her lungs would allow.
"Danger, danger! There's danger in Equestria!"
She did not get far before being intercepted by a light blue pegasus, one which she almost crashed right into.
"Derpy, what the hay do you think you're doing?! You almost grounded us both!" the blue pegasus roared.
"Danger, danger. I saw it in the forest and it tried to get me!" Derpy cried.
The other pegasus looked over to the direction Derpy had flown from.
"Over there? That's statistically the safest woodland in all of Equestria. What could possibly have attacked you?"
"The monster. It hurt that doe and it tried to get me, but I escaped. I just know it hurt that doe and... oh no... I flew away and left the doe."
"Okay, okay. Slow down and start making sense. So you saw a doe and it was hurt. Then came the beast that did it?"
"Uh, yes."
"Yes? Then what?"
"I tried to flee, but it wouldn't let me, but then it made me look at it and then I escaped."
"Let me stop you right there again," The other pegasus sighed. "You lost me. You escaped while you could not escape?"
"It let me the second time, there was a voice. First it said to come back, then it said 'enough' and then I fled," Derpy explained.
The pegasus gave a blank face.
"You believe me right, Rainbow Dash?"
"Sure... let's just retrace your steps. Where was this?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"I'm not going back there!" Derpy yelled.
"Well your friend is in danger, you can't just leave her!"
"Oh."
"Alright Derpy, take me there now."
Derpy tried to say something but stumbled over her own words and flew off with an unintelligible slur. Rainbow Dash followed close by.
"Thunderlane, on me!" Rainbow Dash ordered, building up strength for the journey.
Derpy lead on back into the forest. By pure instinct Derpy had memorised the landmarks for how she came to Ponyville for just such an occasion as this, even if she really did not want to go back.
"How much further?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Just over by that clearing, after these four."
"Alright, you heard the lady. Team Alpha take that side, Team Beta the other side, Team Gamma with me!" Rainbow Dash commanded.
A little confused by this, Derpy glanced over her shoulder to see what Rainbow Dash had been referring to; discovering to her surprise that while on their way here, Rainbow Dash had enlisted no less than 12 other pegasi to aid in the rescue. Team Alpha flew ever so slightly to the side while Team Beta sped forward so as to form the vanguard of the assault.
"We'll get her out of there, don't you worry," Rainbow Dash assured. "You just say when you see the clearing and we dive right in."
"There, there it is!" Derpy exclaimed and descended."
The pegasi squad came crashing down so hard the earth below yielded to their weight, leaving small crater where each had landed.
"Search the perimeter. The culprit is nearby and the doe has to be extricated at all cost!" Rainbow Dash shouted.
The pegasi dispersed behind the trees leaving Rainbow Dash and Derpy alone.
"Now tell me everything you know, and take it slowly this time. I only need to know about the monster."
"Well it was taller than the doe, stood on its hind legs and had forelegs with thin and long claws," Derpy explained.
"Anything else?"
"I think it uses magic."
"Anything el... what?"
"I think it uses magic," Derpy repeated.
"Horse apples! You should have said so," Rainbow Dash flew up above the trees. "Careful everypony! The culprit is a tall, bipedal figure that uses magic. Do not approach alone! Oh, I hope to Celestia that they heard that."
Rainbow Dash returned down to Derpy.
"Anything else we should know? Like what did it do to the doe?"
"Oh, sugar! The doe was supposed to be here in the clearing. Where has it gone?" Derpy yelled.
"It? Wait, do you even know this doe?"
"No, but I tried to help her. Aha, she was lying here and here is the... oh woaw."
"What's that?"
"That's a lot of red."
Derpy felt her head going light and woozy. She was sensitive to these matters, and this sight was above her threshold.
"You okay?"
"No."
"Stay with me now - wow that is a lot of blo-. Whose is it?" Rainbow Dash asked.
Derpy's legs lost their strength and she plummeted down on her belly.
"We need to call the others back. The doe wasn't attacked, it was ambushed. That monster is a deceitful spider! It lured the doe to it while in hiding. What if it knew we were coming and hid with the doe?"
"Oh, no. Derpy, you have to tell us these things, if anything happens to the others..." Rainbow Dash flew off before finishing her sentence. Her shouts could be heard from afar.
Derpy was now alone. Silence had once again befallen the clearing, there was no one around to turn to if anything happened. Derpy tried her hardest to make sense of the situation. Everypony had been so rushed to survey the area, maybe they had missed something. Upon a closer inspection, Derpy could see the red stains going somewhere, past the trees. She had not noticed before, but smoke was coming from that direction as well. Something was not right. Against her better judgement she forced herself up on her hooves and slowly pushed through the bushes.
The sound of an open fire could be heard behind the trees, but still she could not see anything. Above the treetops Rainbow Dash had already assembled some of the pegasi and were now looking for her.
"Derpy, where did you go? Answer me!" Rainbow Dash yelled.
"I'm down here, I'm investigating that smoke coming from over there!" Derpy replied.
Though she could not be sure, Derpy thought she heard Rainbow Dash saying: 'stop her, she can't see this', but decided to continue anyway. An opening revealed itself over at the distance and Derpy galloped to reach it faster. However she was stopped by Thunderlane and another pegasus, both towering over her with concerned expressions on their faces.
"You might not want to see this," Thunderlane said. "Silverspeed certainly didn't hold it in for long."
"Uh, I'm gonna have to... excuse me, agree with him. You don't want to see this," The other pegasus said.
"Why, what happened?"
Rainbow Dash pushed past the stallion duo and shoved Derpy back behind the trees.
"Trust me, this is not good. You should go back to the clearing with these two. You're better off, you have to trust me when I say that."
"C'mon, Derpy, let's go," Thunderlane said. "It's for the best."
As the three pegasi returned to the clearing Derpy sneaked a peak over her shoulder. She could not be certain, but the fire looked like some pony set it up, and something was laying over it, but she could not tell what. The two stallion pegasi spoke to one another, clearly in an attempt to allude to the scene which Derpy was being led from.
"Rainbow Dash tried to warn us, I know that. I don't blame anyone for what happened," Thunderlane said.
"We were hasty. I was just lucky no pony else got hurt," The other pegasus replied.
"Who got hurt?" Derpy asked.
Neither of them replied. At least not directly.
"Can you believe the speed of that thing. Even if we flew, it could just run and hide and we'd be no wiser."
"Well at least it is gone now. I really don't think it will find its way to Ponyville any time soon. And if it does, we will at least be ready," Thunderlane assured.
"You saw the monster?" Derpy asked.
Again, no direct reply.
"How long were they alone? I know predators are fast and efficient, but I never thought anything could sk-."
"Okay, that was over the board. Rainbow Dash said not to say anything," the pegasus interrupted Thunderlane
Derpy stopped and turned around.
"You found the doe? Is she okay?"
Their eyes spoke for the two stallions. However, Thunderlane coughed and drew breath.
"We didn't get there fast enough. And don't let Rainbow Dash know I said this... but we actually caught the monster in the act. Then one of us got a little over-zealous and stormed in. That didn't turn out so well," Thunderlane explained.
"Who was it?" Derpy asked. "Is he okay, at least?"
"Blue Hoof - you don't know her; she's in the free flyers' team. The monster used some kind of magic and she stopped moving. She crashed and broke a wing and a leg. I think she can pull through, though, if she regains consciousness," Thunderlane explained.
"After we... let's just say we are not splitting up again any time soon. Rainbow Dash will be back here with the rest of the pegasi, and we will wait and see if Blue Hoof doesn't get any better," the other pegasus said. "So let's just get back to the clearing and wait for the other ponies, then we'll see what happens next."
When finally everypony had gathered back at the clearing and Blue Hoof and been carefully examined for any further damage, Rainbow Dash started drawing out the map which would be their operational area.
"Okay, so I got a good look at this place when I gathered you all so this is where we are..." Rainbow Dash explained as she dug shapes in the earth. "Over this clearing here we encountered that monster - whom we shall call Hyde for simplicity. Everypony clear on that?"
"Yes, ma'am!" the pegasi squad reaffirmed in unison. "Uh - I mean - miss."
"Okay so we know that Hyde - just letting that sink in a bit - made off to that direction, so we will keep an extra watchful eye in that general direction. Until Blue Hoof wakes up we must ensure he does not get any ideas. If push comes to shove we are gonna have to move Blue Hoof to any of the three clearings that are located here, over here and one more way over there; which would be our last resort," Rainbow Dash gave everypony a stern look. "Are we clear on this? Any questions?"
"No, ma'am - uh, miss!" the pagasi squad said.
"Um, one," Derpy said.
"Let's hear it. Privates, full attention. The VIP is speaking."
"What happened to the doe? What did the monst- uh, Hyde do?"
Rainbow Dash sighed in disbelief.
"You just don't cling on to your innocence do you? The doe is gone and Blue Hoof is unconscious. What was going on back there can only be described as a crime against life as we know it. That is why I wanted to have as few witnesses as possible. Though it turns out you were the only one not flying." Rainbow Dash took a deep breath. "It is afternoon now, so I say we do what we can to prepare this place for a sudden invasion. Stick to your designated groups and do the following: Team Alpha, food, Team Beta, water, Team Gamma, surveillance. Derpy and I stay with Blue Hoof. Meet back here in an hour tops."
The three groups launched off in different directions, but Team Gamma were quick to come back in sight.
"No you feather-brains, don't fly too close to this clearing or Hyde might get the idea to enter the circle!" Rainbow Dash warned.
Time passed slowly and Rainbow Dash's face was only getting more and more cringed. This might be a long night coming, if things did not turn out well.
"Derpy, if anything happens to me, bring this feather to... ah, I think you know who," Rainbow Dash said and pulled a feather from her wing and gave it to Derpy.
The sun shone bright since the pegasi had emptied the heavy sky of her clouds; leaving little shade for unsuspecting prey to hide in. His mouth was as dry as the air around him, and with each rasping breath he drew, his thirst grew. He thought it weak of himself, as he had only arrived for his shift moments earlier. Crouched down on top of a hill, with a clear vantage point of the open road before him, the spotter whimpered and whined to the grass, his only friends on the job, and waited in misery for his shift to end at sunset.
The time passed quicker than he knew, as every second felt like an hour. Had the spotter been clever he would have stayed home, but the butterflies in his stomach urged him out; for that sensation meant good luck, surely. A faint rustling in the bushes behind him signalled a fellow spotter’s request for assistance. He could not have wished for a sooner calling.
Finally, some action, he thought to himself as he carefully crawled away from his post.
“What have we got? What did you see?” he whispered to his comrade.
“I've never seen anything like it,” the other spotter said. “It’s a big pony with some... thing on it!”
The two spotters emerged from the shadows of trees and bushes onto the edge of a cliff. There the second spotter in silence gestured downwards so as to not make their presence known. It took the first one a while to process the meaning behind the paw waves and the head tilts before he complied. Below them were a thin catwalk along a cliff wall, raised high up over a streaming river. On the catwalk a, large, larger than normal, pony slowly trod. The pathway was only barely wide enough for the pony to travel on and it was clear its mind was on balance more than anything. On its back sat a crooked figure; thin from top to bottom with spindly limbs, in equal parts covered in scales and fur, and with a pale, cracked beak protruding high on its forehead.
“What is that?” the first spotter asked.
“A target. An ugly target,” the second replied with a slight cough. "S'all that matters, isn't it?"
Upon closer inspection, an assortment of feathers came into the spotters' view.
“Feathers, must be some kinda bird. Easy targets on ground."
There was a slight pause between the two as they decided whether this would be their victim, or they should let the creature go. It looked strong enough to defend what they were really after - the pony.
“What is going on here?” a booming voice asked from the bushes.
“Hush!” the second spotter urged. “Look.”
“What have we here?” the booming voice from another dog, but not a spotter, asked as it stepped out of the shadows.
The two spotters made way for the third dog, an act of respect. The spotters pointed out the pony, and made particular care to note the creature sitting on top of it. The third dog raised his brow.
“And what in the ground we hunt on is that?” he asked demandingly.
“No idea. It has a beak, some feathers and fur here and there. I think it is some kinda bird,” the first one started.
“An ugly one,” the second one finished. "Easy target, no?"
The pony was reaching the end of the catwalk, the best place for an ambush, quickly changing the topic.
“A griffon, you ninnies. Enough gagging, we’ll get it,” the third dog ordered.
The three dogs sped up the cliff to get ahead of their mark. With swiftness they descended the cliff and before long they had the pony intercepted. The pony took an unsure step backwards, but the griffon protested the action; tugging at the straps bound to the pony's face. From this angle the dogs could see the pony’s apparel. Rather unorthodoxly the pony was clad in brown strips, mostly covered by a blue robe, but likely strapped onto her a saddle; they could also identify numerous bags and pouches, all resting on top of fabric and chain. This was not a normal travelling pony.
The griffon gave the three dogs a tentative, but patient, glare; but it could have been something else considering none of the dogs could spot a discernible face - oddly enough. The third dog assumed a menacing pose, chest out and chin high. The spotters followed suit, but neither the pony nor the griffon on its back revealed any sign of intimidation.
The third dog took a brave step forward. For whatever reason, the pony they had chosen to attack appeared indifferent. Face-to-face with their victim for well over a minute, without any words having been exchanged, something was different; the dogs' confidence were slowly fading.
“Boss,” the first one started. “Should we perhaps just let them go?”
The griffon tilted forward impatiently, whipping the horse's straps, while muttering unintelligible words. The pony fearlessly stepped forward on command, demanding more and more space from its interceptors. The griffon appeared to relax for a moment as the dogs withdrew - an opening for an attack, perhaps - so the third dog took his chance and leaped in for the hit. Concerned that the pony might not be the real threat, the third dog went for its master instead. He had not realised he was alone in the endeavour and so stood on his own. Now balancing on an unwilling pony’s back, competing for space with an unknown entity of unknown properties - as its status as a griffon was suddenly put to question - there were only two options: dismount the current occupant or be thrown off.
It was now that the third dog could get a detailed view of the pony’s controller. There was nothing of this being that truly belonged on it. The ‘beak’ was no more the mouth of a bird than it was a piece of some other creature’s skull; in fact, it probably was the latter. The patches of scale were clearly sourced elsewhere, mounted onto sheets of shaped metal. The furs were of a similar origin; except they were tied onto the creature with textiles. The monster before him was adorning the select extracts of dead animals; trophies of its kills. Not a griffon at all. Not even bird-like.
“What are you?” the dog cried, now wishing he had retreated.
The monster thrust its forelimb at the assailant. From where the two spotters stood the violence seemed to have ceased. With a gentle jerk and nudge on the creature's part the third dog fell, with no effort to resist, off the pony's back to the ground. The creature’s claw, or talon, now revealed a stained piece of metal that neither of the spotters had noticed before. Having been mostly concealing its features in the shadows cast from a high sun, whatever array of weaponry this monster had at its disposal was left a complete mystery to the two dogs.
The pony resumed its advance, this time encountering no protest from the spotters, who obediently made way for its passing. Once out of the catwalk the monster kicked the pony's side and spoke authoritatively, making the pony run at full gallop, disappearing moments later in the distance. With the danger gone, the spotters crawled over to investigate the state of their incapacitated companion. His eyes were vacant, his body still; he was dead.
“You think we should... not tell the boss about this, Itch?” the second spotter asked nervously.
“And say what? That he never met with us?” Itch demanded. "What then, Tick?"
“Erm...” Tick struggled for a moment. Desperation overcame him and he threw the lifeless body over the pathway's edge with a violent shove. He watched the body fall into the streaming waters below. “He fell. We will say he fell.”
The hot, late summer day now felt cold; very cold, as a freezing chill in the air rose from their fallen comrade and blew away with the winds.
Sea as far as the eye saw and the boat rocked uncontrollably with the waves as if begging for mercy. The sailor would be begging for mercy too if the boat would also suddenly indulge him with a sudden leakage. Thankfully the boat, a stolen property, was at least in sailing condition.
The sailor's voyage had lasted nearly seven cycles now and the food had all either expired or been eaten, all that remained was rancid water and a bottle of miraculously preserved apple juice. If only a sea gull or a familiar fish would show up then the sailor would know he was coming home. Perhaps even the sight of a dragon would be welcome, even if that would bode ill for himself. Nevertheless, knowing would be better than idly awaiting death or salvation.
In one hand the sailor firmly held a bottle of apple juice, miraculously only a little bit off flavour, in the other hand he held up papers with notes he had written. The adventure of a life-time would be nearing its end and he could forget the last hundred or so cycles he had spent in a land of nightmares. His sanity was the one thing he no longer trusted. Then there it was, the irritating and demoralising squawk of a gluttonous sea gull, known only for their knack of stealing fish from the net. But that was a good sign for the first time in so long.
The sailor made his way out on deck and marvelled at the sight before him. There it stood, the grandest mountain range in the world as he knew it: the Sky Curtains. Even from this side, the sailor could identify the peaks and the landmarks that would be visible once he passed through the mountain - as he had done when he first left his home. At the tallest peak the sailor counted the steps of the Stairs the Sun Stands On, reflecting back on the uncovered sun behind him that lit up the ocean in enriching brilliance. Then came the down-side.
Starting from the root of the nose, the crawling sensation of bugs clawing carnivorously up the skull up behind the eyes, the sailor let out an uncontrolled sneeze, followed by a second one, and a third for good measure. For some reason he could not bear the excess light provided by an unshackled light source. The intensity was simply too much for his eyes to handle; and for reasons he simply could not comprehend, that light made him sneeze. But that would soon change as he neared the mountain.
Taking care to avoid shallows the sailor calculated the optimal course for the boat and took the helm: he drew a deep breath and called out in a commanding tone.
BLOW WINDS
And as ordered the winds pushed towards the mast and pushed the boat forward as fast as it could carry. Though he had only sailed these waters once before, he could vaguely remember how the safe route was shaped. Only a while longer and he would need to turn the boat ever so slightly starboard to avoid three shallows. After that he would turn the boat back on its original course and sail straight forward. Such was the memory of a farfarer as himself. Farfarer, a title bestowed upon those who seek lands of interest and sell the information to pioneers for precious sums of money.
Now the sailor could see the split in the mountain where he had exited so long ago. It was a dangerous path to take, as the slightest misdirection could topple the boat over, or rock it into the mountain wall, breaking the hull. But so long as he used the oars to carefully gauge the distance he would be fine, he thought. Slowly but surely he allowed the waves to carry him forward, and gave the boat a gentle nudge in the right direction whenever it steered off course. And with the last wave he was out of the tunnel and into the familiar waters of home. Now with the sun hidden behind the Sky Curtains, paradise had never looked so good in the mountain shadows of past noon. The sky was lit, but the sea was in shadows; no longer blinding him with over exposure. His eyes could finally see without impairment.
In the distance up the mountain wall a ferocious roar warned the sailor about a potential conflict. A dragon, who had taken a particular ill feeling to the intrusion, let it be known that it was not to be trifled with. There was no reason to delay, and so the sailor hastily slammed the oars into the waters to create a further distance. He could use his power to blow the sails, but he had no way of knowing if that would be perceived as more threatening. However the rowing appeared to be adequate proof for the dragon to believe the boat would not be a problem. Good for the sailor more than anyone else.
As distant ships drew their course to intercept trajectory, a feeling of home coming brewed in the sailor's stomach for the first time in, surely, many a season. Soon he would be greeted with sweet honey wine and seeded sour dough bread, topped with pork, cheese or seasonal fruit and berry preserves.
The sailor stood tall to allow the incoming ships to observe him. Though he had been gone for a long time, a farfarer never forgot the code and would not make his return tardy. However, something was simply not right about the incoming ships. While he could identify most of them as common warships, three corsairs and a flagship, there was now an additional ship he could not recall ever seeing - a new make. Possessing neither binoculars nor telescope, there was no way for him to discern a name or crew at this distance; but no one sailing the oceans would welcome a new sight when not requested.
Unorthodoxly, the flagship fired empty shots from its cannons, a custom otherwise reserved only for aristocratic weddings. Something was going on, and if the sailor appeared ignorant there could be dear costs to pay. But now the ships had almost closed in enough for shouts to reach the other party. Still maintaining the poise indicating his trade, the sailor awaited inquisition.
"The helmsman claimed good fortune was bestowed upon those welcoming a farfarer home," the nobly clad man said. "On this auspicious occasion, I greet you, farfarer. I request that you board my vessel."
There was no reason to decline the offer, for despite the unfamiliarity of the company, all was still very much in order with how farfarers were traditionally treated. Carefully, the sailor grabbed onto the rope ladder that had been lowered for him and dragged himself up. On the surface, the sailor looked calm and ready to tell stories about his journey; in his mind, however, he was spilling his guts over trying to figure out how he had managed to stumble upon an aristocratic wedding ceremony. There was an unjust penalty for ignorance, and usually even a farfarer would know in advance to expect these occasions. The sailor's unmistakably moon-marked, grey eyes set him apart from any of his false-kin; he was a child and that meant the use of questions were out of bounds.
"Tell me your name, farfarer, so that I may know you. You surely have quite the tale," the man said.
"Valkon, son of Dusell, farfarer born to the Commons District's far steppe; the Horse Acres," the sailor replied.
"Commoners have long names," the man laughed, barely hiding the mockery. "My name is Dal Vega. As my name suggests, I am of the Patriarchal Circle. You board the first interceptor class ship of its make." The man continued as he pointed to the deck: "You find it during its maiden voyage, and so timely you should arrive. I shall see this ship bring reckoning on many a pirate, smuggler and seed thief."
With a surname came rank and title, Valkon knew, and when you commandeered a ship it meant you had power. People in power were often best approached with a snake's tongue, sharp as a whip so as to impress, but soft as silk so as not to offend.
"You baptise your ship on a wedding day. Many stories imply misfortune will come after," Valkon joked. "Timely was my arrival, to be sure."
"To be sure."
The two shared a laughter and shook hands. Valkon was fortunate to pry as much information he already had, and that the wedding couple were on another ship would give him ample opportunity to learn more. Unfortunately, he would require further probing into Dal's mind. But a farfarer was not usually the type to press presumptions onto others.
"You will want to board the flagship. I will signal them to join us," Dal said.
"Eager to share my stories."
"To be sure."
Valkon quickly glanced over at the fleet that had gathered for the wedding. He counted the warships and their crew, now within eye-shot, and tried to draw out answers.
"Words implied a family of military background tied bonds with another," Valkon suggested, avoiding entirely to sound like he was asking for confirmation.
"True, but those words are not entirely honest."
"And dishonesty is the worst of sins," Valkon said.
Whatever that meant did at least confirm one family was military. If Valkon could only just learn the trade of the other family he would know enough to avert disaster.
"Words would presume a military family sought bonds with a family that shared an interest."
"True, the commoners like to riddle the events of the Patriarchal Circle."
"They are indirect; secrets are the best lies. Words also presumed a military family sought bonds to strengthen their naval front."
"So the commoners admire the craftsmanship that guards their waters."
To Valkon the answer had become clear.
"I have heard from a friend's friend about a military family tying bonds with a shipwright's family. The friend said a new vessel would tie the bond," Valkon claimed.
"So you guessed. The farfarers are more cunning than I thought. This is that vessel you speak of, and it shall track and hunt smugglers, pirates and seed thieves alike," Dal said. "I advice you inspect the ship as much as possible before we unite with the flagship. I hold no one's fate but my own here."
Valkon performed a speedy inspection on the ships exterior. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed with relief from having successfully deduced the exact event he had sailed in on - and successfully avoided to resort to the question. Meanwhile, Dal took a particular interest in Valkon's boat; something Valkon had no intention to speak of.
"This boat, I have never seen a make of this kind. Tell me where you found it," Dal requested.
"It is a taken vessel, not one I would sail with. My own ship sank and the crew with it," Valkon explained.
"Tell me how it fares the waters."
"Unstable, slow and hard to control on open waters. It was not meant for the travels of a farfarer."
"Tell me, then, where it came from."
Valkon deliberated on that thought. He did not want to believe it himself, but he had been beyond the Sky Curtain, said to only be inhabited by dragons, pirates in hiding and dreadful sea monsters. Even a farfarer would think twice before going out there.
"It is a south-eastern make, from the Hidex province. I did not commandeer it from harbour. I found it at sea," Valkon lied.
"I believe you. The men beyond the veil know nothing of the art of building ships. But tell me why the boat has a horse hut. I see this boat is too small to hold one."
This was not good. Dal had begun to pry into Valkon's travels, something he had planned to forget all about for fear of people deeming him insane. Valkon would surely be locked up in a madhouse if it was known he had only just returned from a land ruled by small horses, horses who built houses, built ships and lived lives akin the children - Valkon's people.
"Valkon, son of Dusell, has come back from a journey past the Sky Curtain. I could see that with my telescope. Tell me... what you found there," Dal demanded.
FORGET YOU SAW ME
Valkon hurried back to his boat while Dal was standing there completely stupefied. Nothing good would come from this conversation. With haste Valkon rowed the boat to a safe distance. He took a deep breath and howled:
BLOW WINDS!
The sail caught wind and the boat was once again being pushed as fast as the wind could manage, faster than before. Land was all Valkon wanted now, the faster the better. He knew full well that his escape would only be a temporary solution. The boat was uniquely designed and so no one could mistake it. He would have to find some way of ridding himself of it. But then suddenly an opportunity arose: another boat, bound for the opposite direction, came into view. The other sailor was the first one to speak.
"Farfarer, I have incurred the dragons' wrath. Tell me where I might escape their eyes."
The other sailor was a masked type, sharing the boat with a horse. Valkon took to counting his blessings and cunningly made an offer.
"I have seen lands where you will find safe harbour. Trade me your boat and I will tell you where to sail."
The sailor did not even think before answering.
"The boat is yours, any personal effects and the horse are not negotiable."
"The boat is all I ask - mine is more suited for a horse, and so you will have more use of it," Valkon said.
"I take your offer," the other sailor said and threw over a hooked rope.
After binding the two boats together, the trick was to move the horse from one boat to the other. A sailor would have picked up these techniques over time, but a horse rarely learn these things. Clumsily the other sailor shoved the poor horse onto Valkon's boat and began to collect his belongings.
"You're not the caring kind," Valkon remarked.
The sailor paused and gave Valkon a vindictive glare.
"The sun will soon descend behind the Sky Curtain, after that the dragons can observe the waters. My horse is too important to be let had by dragons," the sailor said. "I did not injure her."
"So you say, but she's not standing."
The sailor drew a knife from a scabbard hanging over his chest. Valkon took a cautious step back, but the sailor instead started cutting ropes binding packages.
"She was never intended to be brought to sea - you will have observed her lying down before we met."
"That's your own horse, so you could be a horse master," Valkon said.
The sailor stood up again holding a wrapped cloth. He aggressively threw it over to Valkon and held his arms out.
"I am what you see," He said.
Valkon only now cared to observe the details of his trade partner. Before him stood a man wearing a long chain mail, a breast plate, partial metal leggings and a scaled, wide-brimmed helm. Over that he was adorned with furs, leathers, bones and exotic feathers. He possessed many blades of various sizes. His gauntlets were mismatched, the right hand being a leather-wrapped, decorated and studded cestus, the left hand was layer-plated, covering palm and back, but was also the only gauntlet with naked fingers, for no immediately apparent reasons. His face was hidden in the shadows of a small cranium and mandible, likely belonging to a man-sized reptile, attached to the wide-brimmed helm he wore on his head. Clearly the sailor was more a walking trophy stand and armoury than anything else, as pieces of scale and fur and feathers adorned his person; but that also answered Valkon's curiosity.
"You're a loather," Valkon said.
"As you see me," The loather replied.
"A loather bears the pride and legacy of the Culling Grounds and us childrens' history. You have slain a dragon. That is why you must flee."
"False. I would have stayed. The Proudclad exiled me to ensure that horse is kept safe," the loather explained as he threw over another wrapping.
"You will return."
"True, at the dawn of the next season." The loather picked up a small chest and slowly handed it over to Valkon before continuing. "I do not recognise your face. You are a farfarer past the curfew."
Valkon thought a moment before answering. In truth he was not sure how long he had been gone. Beyond the Sky Curtain the cycles were very much different, making it hard to count them. However, even a loather would have no trouble keeping check on the farfarers leaving and returning to port. Surely, then, the loather must have been right about him.
"True. But I have been otherwise occupied," Valkon replied.
"House arrest awaits you regardless, farfarer. You have a home, I presume."
"If it stands after all this time, I am certain it is still there."
"Quickly adapt to dry land. I hear farfarers lose their affinity for it. And shave off your beard, it is quite unattractive, you will find," The loather said with a sneer, throwing the last bag on his boat over to Valkon.
The loather now climbed aboard Valkon's boat and inspected the hut.
"For a horse to stand in," Valkon explained.
"Laying down in. This is for a foal, or a very small horse."
"You know this how I wonder?" Valkon said, letting a question slip his lip.
The loather stepped away from the hut and pointed, commanding the horse to enter. The horse did so cautiously, taking each step with long intervals, like a foal learning to balance anew. Soon the two would part ways, so it made sense for Valkon to learn about the events he had missed while he was gone. Having not been caught asking a question, Valkon tried tested the waters further.
"You would be familiar with the recent ongoings in Heaven Over The Azure?" Valkon asked.
The loather thought for a moment before answering. It was unusual for a loather to have to think before speaking. Such a thing came to them more naturally than breathing. So there must have been a lot to remember. Or he was baffled after having registered a question.
"The Patriarchal Circle passed a petition for a new petty chieftain. Of this you are surely aware," the loather said.
"False, this I was not aware of."
"That means you have been away for at least two seasons."
Two seasons totalled around two hundred cycles, or two hundred sun-rises. In Heaven Over The Azure, that meant a harvest.
"Two seasons, you jest."
"You will be aware that the dragons have turned the Town Hall into a roost."
"This I was not aware of, either."
"Then you have been away for at least three seasons. No longer are you past curfew, you should be considered dead by now."
"Three seasons is not possible."
"The Troll Woods are now threatened by a growing number of aggressive unicorns," the loather said without making the presumption.
Valkon wanted to pretend to be aware of this fact, but he could not help but shake his head.
"Five seasons," The loather said and took a deep breath. "Unicorns turned aggressive in the Troll Woods, an increasing number of mares are impregnated without studs, wildlife is dwindling, the dragons have overtaken the Town Hall, more people are desecrating the graves of Totemheim, the Culling Grounds are ravaged by disease." The loather paused for another breath. "Proudclad declared the Troll Woods to be out of bounds and has seen to ban troll tapping. The Temple of Loathing initiated another litter of whelps, and for the justiciars the Waterfronts have become a no-interest zone. The Patriarchal Circle petitioned for the crowing of a new petty chieftain, followed by a bloodbath." The loather sighed and looked deeply into Valkon's eyes, his own grey and moon-marked eyes gave Valkon a strange feeling of kinship. "There is not much more that would have interested the loathers."
"Perhaps you could indulge me in more recent news. I want to know of this season," Valkon suggested impatiently.
The loather glanced to the Sky Curtain before replying.
"Politics that are of no concern to my enclave. The Culling Grounds are my only interest."
"You know something of the Commons District."
"To be sure."
"You will tell me."
"Hide your catalyst. The Waterfront harbours many cutthroats from overseas," the loather said. "Better for your house arrest, sell it instead. The loathers and justiciars alike are willing to compensate generously for those."
"My catalyst, you say."
"Those sails would have no wind landwards, you commanded the winds to push the sails. Do not take me for a fool, a loather would know."
Valkon dug in his pocket and produced a small horn. He showed it to the loather with a raised brow.
"I do not recognise the animal this belongs to," the loather informed.
"I took it from a unicorn. I assume you mean this is a catalyst."
The loather broke out in uncontrollable howling, much resembling laughter. He beat at his chest trying to regain control of his breathing before violently throwing himself down to a seated position.
"You jest!" the loather barked. "A unicorn can evaporate a man's body into its most basic matter in the mere wink of an eye; here you claim to have slain one, and you do not even have a weapon."
Valkon did not know loathers to be capable of laughter, but something about the mockery made him think about this particular horn. Ever since he came close to it, Valkon had been able to command the world around him with varying degrees of success and it had most certainly served him well in finding his way back home. But now that he could show a trophy of his own to a loather, the loather was not even near being impressed. In fact, the loather would not even believe him, despite the horn being right in front of him, in plain sight.
"This is a unicorn's horn. But you think I controlled the winds by some other means."
"What you have there could belong to a unicorn, but it would have to be a foal. No one has ever seen a unicorn's foal," the loather said with an audible tone of mockery.
"Then you will show me your own catalyst!" Valkon demanded.
The loather stopped his cackling and grunted at Valkon:
GET OFF THIS BOAT
Valkon felt a sudden urge to hastily leap overboard. However, before he could dive into the water the loather caught him and tossed him over the other boat instead.
"Now you will tell me where I shall sail, farfarer."
Valkon took a moment to recover from that ungodly sensation. It had felt as if he was submerged in icy water.
"You will travel beyond the Sky Curtain, and sail with the sun for a week, half a week with good conditions, then you will come upon land. You will sail straight south-west," Valkon directed, with a heavy tremble in his voice.
What Valkon had done was giving a ruthless trophy hunter the directions on how to sail to the world he had been lost on for at least five seasons. Whether this was a good idea would not be a thought he would quickly lose sleep over, but as loathers were not known to lie perhaps then Valkon could ask the loather about his time in exile when he came back. Then he would know for sure if indeed there was a land ruled only by animals. Animals who behaved like the children.
"The unicorns are an aggressive kind at these times. You came across them on you own ventures," the loather riddled. "Tell me what I might expect of these unicorns of yours."
"They are inquisitive, most uncomfortably so, but your visage alone may remind them of the dangers of a stranger," Valkon informed, thinking back to his own time in those lands. "Though I do not know how they live as they do, know this: there are no impossibilities; heed not the question, but take for granted the answer," Valkon advised.
"A fine religion," the loather complimented as he dislodged the hooked rope keeping the boats together.
Valkon and the loather parted ways. They had not asked for one another's names, nor had they cared to learn it. Yet somehow Valkon could not stop thinking that he had met a very important person; slaying a dragon was no small feat. And that he might have to wait longer still to find out for sure. But at least he was home. At last.
Just as the loather disappeared in the distance, Valkon noticed one last item left on his new boat, something the loather must have dropped. It was a small wooden tub inscribed with silver-painted symbols. Valkon picked it up and read. 'The freezing fire, the burning ice. Life's essence.' It was a tub of troll fat. Surely a dear commodity since the Proudclad barred entrance to the Troll Woods. The healing properties of this substance made it a much sought after, and expensive, curative. So coming home might not have been such a good idea after all.
It seemed now that home was where danger was the greatest.
It was almost nightfall and Team Gamma had made a number of skirting appearances above the treetops. Team Alpha had not been seen or heard of, but Team Beta was already done with their task.
"What's taking Team Alpha so long? How could they not have found anything edible yet?"
"Maybe something happened to them?"
"You don't think Hyde got them?"
"Quit nagging, Hyde ran south-east, Team Alpha flew north," Rainbow Dash yelled. "But why the hay are they so far past their deadline?"
It had only been a few hours, yet somehow the nerves were getting the best of some of the pegasi.
"How is Blue Hoof?"
"Breathing, flickering her eyelids. I think she's sleeping."
"Do we wake her?"
"Are you a doctor?"
"No..."
"Don't experiment."
A green pegasus emerged from the bushes, crawling low down to the ground. However, she was also empty hoofed.
"Where's the rest of Team Alpha?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"When we thought Hyde was onto us they sent me back."
"Empty hoofed?"
"There weren't any edible leaves or berries around where we looked, I was worried Hyde might track me if I didn't hurry here."
"So now what?"
"They told me to tell you that... um..." the green pegasus thought for a moment. "Move back to the clearing with the fireplace?"
Rainbow Dash glanced over to Derpy.
"That's not a good idea. That's where we first spotted Hyde."
"Yeah, but thanks to Team Gamma he moved greater a distance away from it."
"She might be right. I saw him at the edge of one of our escape options," said a pegasus from Team Gamma.
"Fine, but Derpy will keep her eyes shut until I say so. Got it?" Rainbow Dash said.
Supporting Blue Hoof between two stallions, the gathered pegasi once again moved through the forest. Derpy followed closely in Rainbow Dash's steps, eyes shut, measuring a steady distance by biting onto Rainbow Dash's tail. Before they could reach the exit a violently loud shriek pierced through the branches and shook the foundation below the trailing ponies.
"That was Cloudette, what should we do?"
Rainbow Dash thought for a moment.
"Who's up for flying over to Ponyville and getting help? That would be plan B."
"What's plan A?"
"We wait until it's really dark and sneak out. Then there is plan C. We chase Hyde and take him out."
"But that's crazy."
"And we are many; he can't take all of us at once," Rainbow Dash stopped. "I said: who's up for flying back to Ponyville and getting help?"
"I'll do it!" Thunderlane volunteered.
"Good, fly off once we reach - oh, we're here."
"Where's the doe?" a pegasus asked. "Wasn't it right here?"
"Derpy open your eyes. Thunderlane, fly now. Everyone spread out, but keep away from the edges."
"Should Team Gamma look for Cloudette?"
"Too dangerous. But I guess we have to try. Team Gamma with me, Team Beta watch over Derpy." Rainbow Dash ordered.
"But what about the doe? It's gone."
"So Hyde came back and took it. Stop thinking too hard about it. If it eats meat then that would be a good thing. Bringing back Team Alpha is now top priority and Cloudette secondary."
"Why is Cloudette secondary, at least her we've heard?"
"I'm okay, I am here!" a voice called from behind the trees.
A white pegasus emerged calling for every pony's attention. It was Cloudette.
"And see, she's safe. Hang on. Why did you scream if you're alright?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"I bumped into Hyde and he hissed at me. Then I ran and, well, he didn't follow," Cloudette replied.
"How do you know?"
"I stopped to check, and I listened. He's too big to walk the forests without making sounds. And he simply did not follow."
Another shriek came from the forest, sounding eerily similar to Cloudette's.
"Cloudette, what was that?" Rainbow Dash asked. "It wasn't you doing that, was it?"
"No, I'm right here."
"Oh, I know," Derpy said. "The doe told me Hyde mimicked her sounds. That's how he got to her."
"But he's shrieking, why would that attract anypony?"
"Because he knows we are working in teams," Cloudette said. "Team Gamma must have made that abundantly clear."
"Maybe he just wants to be left alone and he's trying to scare us off?" a pegasus suggested.
"So now we just wait for Team Alpha to return and Thunderlane."
"No, we were going to look for Team Alpha."
"Cloudette, where did you last see the rest of Team Alpha?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"They took the initiative to seek help."
"What? Why? They were supposed to look for food!"
"There were none, just the grass and saplings, unless that's what you guys wanted; we couldn't even find any good berries."
"That's what I said," the green pegasus pointed out.
"So how did you run into Hyde?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"I was walking back to camp to tell you, then I ran into Hyde," Cloudette replied.
"I don't even want to know why it took you so long just to think 'maybe it's a good idea to return now'," Rainbow Dash scolded.
"Great, we're stuck in here waiting for both Team Alpha and Thunderlane to return. And to make matters worse we have a predator on the loose who can use magic and mimic our screams, just to mock us," one pegasus moaned.
"All is not so bad, at least now we know that none of us are in immediate danger," Cloudette said.
"Blue Hoof is waking up, I think."
"Move over, let me see her," Rainbow Dash ordered.
The barely conscious pegasus opened a single eye to scout the surrounding. A faint smile stretched over her face when she saw her companions.
"How are you, do you remember what happened?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Vaguely. I was on my way trying to... trying to catch that monster when suddenly a... a... a loud voice told me to..."
"Yes, stay with me."
"A voice telling me to go to sleep. Uhm, I think the exact word was simply 'sleep'. Next thing I know... next thing I know suddenly tackling the ground seemed like such a good idea. I was just that tired," Blue Hoof explained. "Um... where am I?"
"Well we moved you once, but now we're back here where it all happened. But Hyde should be far off."
"Who's Hyde?"
"Well we couldn't call him a monster all the time, we needed something simple," Rainbow Dash explained. "Now, how are you feeling?"
"Nothing, I'm not even hurt," Blue Hoof claimed.
"You've broken a wing and a leg. You're hurt."
"No I'm not, look..." Blue Hoof said and presented her broken and dislocated front leg. "... a leg isn't supposed to bend like that is it?"
"Ouch, that looks really painful!" Derpy cried.
"No-no-no, its nothing. We can get out of here, I can... walk on that. I'm gonna need a brace and some... oh - now the pain is coming," Blue Hoof said as she once again lost consciousness.
"Well that was... informative," Rainbow Dash tried. "Let's look at the map I drew and see what we could..."
"The map is back at the old camp," Cloudette said.
"Horse apples. We have to go back there."
"Why? Can't you remember it?"
"Well yes, of course I do, but I don't know where north is and I'd only expose us if I flew up to check. I noted out north on that map."
"Well I'm not going," a pegasus protested.
"Noble of you, I'll go myself, better that way. Just keep an ear open," Rainbow Dash said as she dove into the forest path.
"Great, this is getting old quick. Had Applejack or Twilight been here everything would have been so much better. Even Rarity would do. Need magic to fight magic," Rainbow Dash growled. "Now I am the only one here with half a brain to lead this lot, and just because of a..."
As she came out to the clearing Rainbow Dash was met by a large, outfitted pony - actually it was a horse. It stood over the earth where the map had been drawn and admired its artist's work. Rainbow Dash held her breath, but the horse noticed her nonetheless.
"Hyde, a fitting name," the horse said.
"You know of him?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"I know it is not his name, but you have only just met," the horse replied. "But tell me, how it is that you fly. He most certainly seems surprised by it.
"You're with him?"
The horse did not reply, a whistling sound emanated from the vegetation and her horse slavishly followed.
"Wait up!" Rainbow Dash called.
"In short, mind," the horse said, still moving away from Rainbow Dash.
"Are you saying he won't come after us?"
"His food was spoiled thanks to your interruption and he is growing ever more desperate to feed," the horse informed. "Hide her from him, or lose her."
The horse disappeared into the forest. Rainbow Dash leapt over the map and read it. It had been altered. All clearings designated for alternative escape had been crossed out and there was a curved arrow pointing to the place where the pegasi had gathered now.
"Oh, Celestia. He knows where we are."
There was an additional line not drawn by Rainbow Dash, it had no arrow at the tip, but it still lead to a bad place. Hyde had, by chance, planned a route that would lead him past Ponyville. Time was of the essence. Rainbow Dash flew up in the air to warn her companions.
"He's coming! He knows we're here. Get Blue Hoof up, we must leave now!" she shouted. "Hyde's coming here, return to Ponyville now, now-now-now-NOW!"
The group had taken initiative once again. Blue Hoof was resting atop the biggest stallion's back and the one thing they were waiting for was Rainbow Dash.
"I can't fly with her on my back, I need some cover."
"I'll cover you. Everypony keep an ear out for heavy hooves. There is a horse around and I think she's helping Hyde."
"We're almost the---re!" a voice from the background sang.
"That's her, just hurry!" Rainbow Dash warned.
The group ran off while Rainbow Dash made her presence known. She kicked and flaunted to make herself more imposing, and just then Hyde appeared through an opening in the tree tops. The two made eye contact briefly, but one thing became readily apparent: Hyde had no interest in Rainbow Dash whatsoever, at least not in a flying target. Hyde disappeared once again below the treetops and Rainbow Dash tried her best to catch sight of him. The horse kept singing, as if following through with a musical act.
Flying in the winds, they lord o'r the sky,
Sing to their loved ones, but knows not why.
Flying the winds, they see mortals' strife,
And their sharp edged spears, that end the wing'd's lives.
The Hunter is hunted and the Hunted regains,
Control of their landmass, where no more it rains.
No longer they torture or starve our homestead,
Rejoice, for now, the Sky Tyrants are dead.
There was a strong lack of connection between the ongoing event and the song's words. Rainbow Dash had the weirdest notion that perhaps what the horse was doing was making her location known to the pegasi - perhaps it meant to help them. She could not know for sure, but by some logic, that actually made sense; why else would the horse be there and giving away its location?
The horse and Hyde were separated, which meant that there was still the chance Hyde could make use of the horse's warning. He was smart enough to read her map, he was tricky enough to lure his victims with sounds, he was keen enough to hunt even after the first conflict forced him to flee. Something was not right about him.
Over at the next clearing the pegasi emerged, still carrying with them the unconscious Blue Hoof. Rainbow Dash could still hear the horse's singing, and from the sounds of it she had caught up with the pegasi and kept to their left. Hyde, however, was nowhere to be seen.
"What's that singing?!" Cloudette asked.
"That's the horse. She's not with Hyde, but I don't know if she's safe."
"Where's Hyde?"
"I don't know, I saw him a minute ago, but now..." Rainbow Dash stopped and hovered in mid air. "Oh no... He's found you! He's ahead of you! Turn quickly!"
Rainbow Dash could see Hyde lurking behind the vegetation, but appeared to have been alone in spotting him. When Hyde jumped out there was much too little time for the pegasi to react. Rainbow Dash threw to heck her senses and charged in.
"RUN!" she roared as she was a mere second away from collision.
She sent Hyde flying through the air before landing on top of him. Hyde let out a loud grunt as he hit the ground. Rainbow Dash tried to get up on her hooves, but her body would not respond. A sudden pain came over her, penetrating her skull and down to the neck. She did not know what it was from, but suddenly her eye lids became heavy. A faint laughter resounded into her ears, followed by a harrowing echo. She was losing consciousness, she just knew it.
Rainbow Dash felt soft talons grasp her under the chin and her head was being lifted up. She was face to face with Hyde now and he was every bit as alien to her now as before. This could not be a living being, no creature was hard as a brick wall, nor so sturdy. Hyde laughed again as he stroked her mane with his other talon, which he then presented to her. It was stained with red. The tackle had done more damage to her than it had him; Hyde was still very much in control of his breath. He needed only push Rainbow Dash off of himself. Hyde whispered softly:
Slee--p
Rainbow Dash felt almost as if being dipped in cold water. It was a creeping sensation. But her eyes shut against her will and she became overwhelmingly dizzy. Suddenly she lost all feeling of balance, her breathing became slow and steady, her pulse became relaxed, her hooves no longer felt the burden of her weight. Rainbow Dash was floating in her own piece of heaven; there was only this, no more worries, no more fears. She soon even forgot her own pain. The last thing she could feel before falling into her slumber was Hyde's talons enveloping her, one over her neck, the other over her head. They trained in and squeezed. They embraced her.
Hyde would no doubt take her life, but in light of what she had been through, if death allowed such peace, she welcomed it.
"And above all else I need you to remain supportive and help Applejack out as much as you can," Twilight said.
"Yes, yes, I got that. I'm just a little uncomfortable with the grief-stricken," Spike replied.
"Would you be uncomfortable if it was Rarity in need?"
"Uh..."
"Now march over to Sweet Apple Acres and look after Applejack!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Spike exclaimed and saluted before marching out the door.
"You wanted to see me, Fluttershy?" Twilight asked.
"Yes, it's about Rainbow Dash. Something terrible has happened!"
"Well, what is it? Did she hurt herself again?"
"That's the thing. Nopony knows for sure. A while back a group of pegasi were hurrying to the hospital saying that Hyde - whoever that is - had hurt Blue Hoof and that Rainbow Dash was last seen fighting him. Then some other pegasi flew out into the forest to look for her!"
"The Everfree Forest?"
"The strange thing is that it wasn't. They flew to the other forest on the opposite end of Ponyville."
"What's so strange about that?"
"It is the safest forest in the region as there aren't any actual packs of predators living there. And yet this Hyde comes out of nowhere and hurts somepony and Rainbow -.."
"Oh, yeah, Rainbow Dash! When did she disappear?"
"Yesterday. The pegasi had to hoof their way here, only now have they organised a search party."
"Ah, and I was going to catch the train to Trottingham as well - oo---h, what to do, what to do?"
Just as the two ponies were caught up in their panic a mad knocking on the door stilled them. It was Applejack, thrown into a wild frenzy.
"Twilight! Git-on-ther-train-dis-enstant!" she barked.
"What?"
"That Wight has gone and knocked Rainbow Dash one, too? Well he will have a thing comin' to 'im if he thinks twice is a get out of jail free. I want everythin' you can find out at my door step quick-like. And if Trottingham is that place, get your flank on that train, now!"
"Okay, okay, calm down. I'm going!"
"Where's yer bags. Can't carry them fast enough," Applejack said and bit onto the bag nearest to the door.
"I don't have any luggage, I was just going to be away for a day."
Applejack spat out the bag.
"Well take Fluttershy with ya, two works better than one."
"But I don't want to go to -..."
"Can it, sugarcube. This here tree bucker will look after Rainbow when she returns, and if that Wight returns with her, he's got these hooves to play with."
"Wight? I thought it was Hyde," Fluttershy said.
"Well Jua called them 'horse slavers'. So I don't think any of us really knows what he, or she, is."
"Come again?" Applejack asked. "No. Don't answer now, talk on the move. Train station, now."
With Twilight and Fluttershy at the front, Applejack began to lead the two to the train station, violently pushing anypony who slowed down.
"Ya'll were sayin' Jua. Who's that?" Applejack asked.
"A world-travelling zebra who visited a land north-east of Equestria. Ow! He saw these strange creatures in a land where horses also existed. But to the slavers, as he called them, the horses were their subjects - well more like tools. I didn't stick around for - OW!" Twilight exclaimed as Applejack gave her a strong push. "... For long, so you'd have to ask Zecora for the rest of the story."
"And what about this Hyde?" Applejack asked, directing the question to Fluttershy who was flapping her wings to maintain the pace.
"They didn't say much but I did hear them tell me it was a predator who did weird noises, or something. Ou-ch! It even talked they said, but in a different language. And it used magic, too."
"Magic, Twilight is that possible? I thought only unicorns did that?"
"Remember Discord? OW!"
"'Course I do! Ya think I'm stupid?"
"Well unicorns aren't alone in magic, we are only uniquely gifted in it as ponies, but there are other creatures."
"What about horses, any magic in them?"
"I have never seen a unicorn horse before."
"So it was not the horse he was with who was doing that fancy magic, it was the Wight itself."
"I suppose that's possible."
"I'll lay a thought to ya Twi, think about it, ya hear? Can magic be conjured with words - instead of being taught through study? Y'know, magic chants."
"... Well, there is -"
"Not now, look, almost there. Think about that one. I may not be the bookworm you are, but I've done a lot of thinkin'. If that Wight comes back, or Hyde if you must, I hope I will have all the necessary preparations complete."
Applejack shoved the two ponies up on the platform and skipped over to the ticket booth. After purchasing their tickets Fluttershy felt the need to warn her friend.
"Be careful, Applejack, won't you please?" Fluttershy said. "Hyde sounds very dangerous."
"Only in day-time. I need my eyes as much as any pony."
"I think she meant for you not to look for trouble," Twilight informed.
"I'll bring a flash light if it's dark."
"That's not the point. Don't go into a fight uninformed!" Twilight yelled.
The conductor called to inform them about the train's imminent departure.
"That's yer time up. I wish ya'll the best of luck," Applejack chuckled. "On you go."
"Don't - OW! - look for trouble now, promise me!" Twilight said as the door shut behind them.
The train left the station but Applejack did not move to catch a last glimpse.
"You think she will listen to us?" Fluttershy asked.
"I dunno, but we're only going away for a day or two. I don't think Applejack is my main concern. I'm thinking about Rainbow Dash," Twilight replied.
"I worry too. But somehow I think she's okay. She always is, isn't she?"
"Often enough, yes. So now all we have to do is go to Trottingham, meet this Bacoltermann and ask him to tell us everything he knows about this Wight of the Waters."
"You're going to Trottingham too?" a young colt asked.
Twilight looked down and saw before her a grey colt with a black mane, with a camera hanging from his neck.
"Hey I know you, Twilight, we did an article about you in the Foal Free Press... sorry about all those rumours. We feel terrible," the colt said.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" Twilight asked.
"Name's Shady Daze, chief photographer at the Foal Free Press."
"And you're going to Trottingham?"
"Yep, the Waterfront, to hear Bacoltermann talk about the Wight of the Waters."
"And you're going with your parents, right?"
"Err... oops."
"Meaning?"
"I forgot to ask for their permission," Shady Daze confessed as his head almost hit the floor in shame.
"Well then we have a common goal, although different motives. How about you stick with us so nothing bad happens," Twilight suggested.
"Well this is an express train so that would be great. Then maybe I won't get in trouble."
"Don't worry, I'm sure your parents will understand," Fluttershy said.
"Uh, not really once they find out what weirdoes I've been hanging with."
"Hey, watch your mouth there, young mister!" Twilight scolded.
"Not you guys, you're cool. I mean those weirdoes," Shady Daze said and pointed down the cart.
The cart was crammed with tourists, all geared up with cameras, video cameras, note pads, sound recorders, and many other contraptions whose purpose would haunt Twilight's mind forever. Some were even in costume, adorning wigs and masks to help resemble some gargoyle of sorts. Each mask was slightly, or very, different from the next and the smart guess was: no pony here was part of a joint group.
"Word of advice: Don't. Ever. Voice. An opinion. These savages will have your mane for it. I barely dodged a bullet before you arrived, and have hidden here since," Shady Daze said, which only now managed to click in Twilight's mind that he was bunking in the trunk space.
"Okay, how did I not notice that?" Twilight asked rhetorically. "So you're saying that this Wight of the Waters is not a small myth from Trottingham?"
"It appears to be a big myth from Trottingham. One of the Waterfront's main attractions is to hear Bacoltermann retell the story of how he saw it. He's a shipwright and knows those waters like the back of his hoof, so ponies kind of believe him."
"And how does that become a... a cult?"
"Well, once the Wight of the Waters leave water and come up on land, things start to change. Bacoltermann was the first pony to have seen it, but he never documented it. Now Trottingham is said to be haunted by this mysterious figure and nopony really knows what it does other than stealing food."
"I don't think this is the same as Hyde," Fluttershy whispered to Twilight.
"Who's Hyde?" Shady Daze asked. "Keen hearing, in case you were wondering."
"Well you live in Ponyville yourself so I suppose it would be bad to hide it," Twilight started.
"Hyde, Hide, ha ha. Funny!"
"I think the Wight of the Waters is somewhere around Ponyville. And if that is true it has already hurt the citizens," Twilight continued.
"... wow."
"My friend Rainbow Dash apparently fought the Wight, and nopony has seen her since. Another pegasus named Blue Hoof was also injured in that encounter. And Applejack's dog was taken by the Wight and we have no idea what happened to her."
"I don't want to go home anymore," Shady Daze whined. "You're sure about this?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Oh, so you think you have an idea of what this Wight of the Water is?" a voice intruded.
From her peripherals Twilight could see Shady Daze saying 'say-no-say-no' through his teeth. However, not quite convinced that the colt's testimony about the tourists was entirely accurate, Twilight pushed the subject.
"Why, yes. My friends have made personal encounters with it. And where we're from we call it Hyde," Twilight said with a forced grin.
"Any pony else heard this filly?" the voice said, coming from an elderly mare. "Personal encounter with the Wight of the Waters. Ridiculous, that creature never leaves the waters."
"Yes it does, I told you," another tourist said. "How could the sightings have spread to the regions around Trottingham otherwise?"
"They were lies by pretenders looking for attention. I already debunked your theories!"
"Well this isn't looking good," Shady Daze said as he withdrew further into the trunk space.
"I will tell you only once, young filly, as someone who's studied all things that can be related to the Wight of the Waters, there is no doubt in my mind that he, or she - for political correctness - is a seafaring monkey. I have cross referenced all depictions of it with my -"
"Is somepony trying to tell somepony else they are right again? The reason this train hasn't left yet is because somepony always starts an argument and the conductor won't start the train until we settle down!" another stallion whined at the opposite end of the cart.
"I agree with him, for once," a mare from the middle of the cart said.
Twilight's harasser paused for a moment.
"Hyde, you say? Well we will just see who's right, won't we?" and with that she sat down again.
"I think I'll just go over to the next cart and sit there instead," Fluttershy said.
"Well that has got to be the most peaceful it's been since I got on," Shady Daze said. "But I'm going with her just in case."
Feeling like getting a better understanding of the cult she'd be sharing company with, Twilight made her way to the stallion, a black pegasus, who had been defending her earlier. Before she had time to introduce herself, however, he made his voice heard.
"Hyde, eh? Figures the name would change when it leaves the ocean," the stallion started. "The name's Black Hoof, I am a cartographer and an avid follower of Bacoltermann's work. And you are?"
"Uh, Twilight Sparkle. I am a librarian, but I only just recently read about the Wight, as the others call it. And I was hoping to speak with Bacoltermann about it."
"Well to be honest I am not a big fan of the whole Wight of the Waters affair at all, I just happened to end up on the same cart as these ponies." Black Hoof laughed. "And now I've been riding on the train of disparity ever since. Although, you got on after the big commotion from earlier. They had to stop the train in the middle of nowhere to calm down the chaos."
"It's that big, huh?"
"Ye-... no. How should I say? Chess is a large community, but widely ignored; the Wight only has a very small community, and is almost unheard of outside of it. Here is only a small sample of those with the money and patience to travel, but you will be surprised over how small this cult is. In fact I was in Manehattan just earlier today and no pony there knows the first thing about a Wight of the Waters."
"You don't say."
"But if you actually decided to visit Bacoltermann, that means you know something. Care to share?"
"Well I was with my zebra friend the other day and she told me about this horse slaver from a distant land over the ocean. When I then saw the illustration of it I got a bit curious. However, not until a friend of mine described a strange creature riding on a horse to me did it really click. So I guess that's my stake it this, in short," Twilight sighed. "And to finally connect the dots I found Bacoltermann's report in one of my book deliveries."
"Wow, you're the only pony I've met who has any reason to be here. I think Bacoltermann will be eager to meet with you."
"And why is that?" Twilight asked.
"Because I will tell him to."
"How?"
"Well I thought my accent was a straight give-away. I am a born and bred Trottinghammer and I am a personal friend of Bacoltermann. He would be most happy to hear your account of the events that transpired around this... encounter with the Wight."
Twilight sat down in front of Black Hoof. The other ponies gave Twilight a suspiciously wide berth, but Black Hoof leaned in closely.
"It wasn't pleasant. My friend may have lost her pet to it. And another pony, a pegasus, has been reported injured. Also, another friend of mine has gone missing," Twilight said.
"And you called him... Hyde?"
"Well that was something the pegasi came up with. They were doing something in the woods when they met him. As I understand it didn't turn out too well when one of the pegasi got hurt. I was put on this train before I could get as much as a glimpse of the pegasus in question."
"Well I can only hope for the best," Black Hoof said. "In Trottingham, as I am sure you've heard, the Wight is no more than a thief."
"And how does that make it special?"
"Evidence pointing to a previously unknown species. I might tell you the tale as I recall it, but Bacoltermann wouldn't forgive me."
Twilight sat silent for a moment. Black Hoof began to toy around with his hooves. The tourist ponies were either bickering amongst, or isolating themselves from, one another. And still Twilight felt herself being given a larger bubble of air for herself.
"Twilight, I got something for you," Shady Daze called out of seemingly nowhere.
"Woah! - what is it?" Twilight asked.
"Fluttershy had this stuck in her wing, thought maybe you'd want it. I'm out of here!" Shady Daze said as he dropped a folded piece of paper on the seat next to Twilight.
Twilight took the paper and unfolded it. It was a rough sketch of something, possibly the Wight as Applejack had seen it; it was definitely Applejack's drawing because it had her initials at the bottom.
"What is it?" Black Hoof asked.
Twilight gave him the paper.
"Oh, yes, quite similar. I think this might be the Wight," he said.
"So it has moved?"
"Maybe, but something is not right."
"What is it?"
"The Wight did not ride a - is that a horse? - nor was it scaly - or is that fur? - and Bacoltermann always described it as having a naked face. This Wight, or Hyde as you said this one was called, has a bone-like head. Reptilian, I believe," Black Hoof said before delving into deep thinking.
"Is there something wrong?"
"It's been a long time ago now since the Wight of the Waters was first reported. I'd hate to think this was it. That would imply he'd been hunting animals and started wearing their hides as clothes," Black Hoof raised his voice. "But nonetheless, I think, Twilight, that with this you may actually have helped validate Bacoltermann's observation. If only we had something more conclusive, maybe a photograph, why I think you would be onto something big, really big!"
Twilight felt the bubble of air around her pop as half a dozen other ponies pushed in to see the paper.
"What is that? Let me see!" one pony said.
"Black Hoof is actually agreeing with that filly?" another pony asked. "What has she found?"
"That is ridiculous, let me look at that thing!" a third pony said.
Now a couple more of the tourists squeezed in for a good look. Black Hoof humoured them by showing off the sketch.
"See? Pretty accurate considering that this is Ponyville's first sighting of one."
"Hah, I knew it was just a fake - it looks nothing like the Wight!" a pony laughed.
"Oh, yeah? Well have you personally seen it yourself?" another pony defended.
"And this is what I was saying. If they don't settle soon the conductor may order the train to stop," Black Hoof sighed with a wide smile.
"But then when we get to Trottingham, I will be able to learn more - about the Wight - right?" Twilight asked.
"No doubt about it. Now sit back and enjoy the chaos!" Black Hoof laughed and threw the sketch to the argumentative crowd.
There was no more silence for the rest of the journey and question after question was being thrown back and forth, some to Twilight, some to Black Hoof, and some still to the next tourist. Voices were being raised, peacekeepers were being helpless and Fluttershy and Shady Daze were refusing to come back in again. Black Hoof appeared the happiest of them all.
The oppressive atmosphere, combined with the intense heat of the sun and the captured vapours of water not able to escape above the leaves of the trees, made breathing much akin like swallowing water while swimming. The journey had been long and now appeared much more fruitless.
Yet despite being weary and doubtful, Map Wright and Poncey had enough stamina reserved to persist in their arguments. Map Wright insisted his directions were correct to the millimetre, boasting loudly how his talent in cartography surely meant he could pin - to the very point - a precise location on any map. Poncey, on the other hoof, the archaeologist of the gathering, felt the map reader was pointing at dirt and calling it land marks; knowing in his own head that what they were looking for was not something written on a map.
Map Wright was a stubborn-as-a-mule unicorn stallion with the temperament of an angry bull. He was quick to jump, and quicker still to dismiss the idea of being wrong. Had it not been for the fact that he lost his horn in an accident long back he might even have used magic to demonstrate his anger. Funny enough, however, it had not grown back, or even begin to make any recovery.
Poncey was a more lady-like earth pony stallion who had always been on the quieter side and would always listen before speaking. Now, however, he was particularly venomous of tongue and not only quick to lose his composure, but was quicker still to share with others just how venomous his tongue could be. Between the two stallions, Poncey appeared the worst.
"If the two of you are quite done fighting, I believe it is time we settled for a moment to discuss our current situation," a much younger earth pony colt suggested.
The trio were part of an expedition to root out an old, underground stronghold. However, it had not been constructed by the ponies and was therefore not much referenced in historical documents. It was also thence a disagreement had manifested between the two stallions. With the knowledge that the stronghold was griffon in origin, Poncey was convinced it could not be found in forest terrain. On the opposite side of the argument Map Wright strongly believed it was built for war purposes and so would not have been found in the typical mountain regions griffins usually prefer. Being the novice of the group, the colt had not been allowed to voice himself, and was therefore left to be the peace keeper. But that only resulted in aggressive retort.
"And what do you have to contribute? An opinion?" Poncey asked impatiently.
"We brought you along to teach you, not the other way around. You will get to speak when we ask it of you," Map Wright asserted.
"But we've been out here for almost a week and a half now and the only thing that's come out of the two of you is arguing!" the colt was one of patience, but now it had run out. "So you say that the griffins lived in the mountains back in pre-Equestrian times, but on the other hand the griffon artists' depiction of their war stronghold is virtually devoid of any mountain, or rock for that matter. Essentially you're both right, but you are not thinking about it."
Poncey snarled at the colt while Map Wright drew breath to speak. The colt knew exactly what was to come, having been here almost every day since their journey had begun.
"And don't remind me again that my father paid you to bring me along. My insight should be just as valid as any of yours'. Unlike you guys I am a griffon enthusiast and I happen to know, for a fact, that the griffins did not just live on mountains back in the early days. I also know that griffins favoured forests for tactical advantages during wars as they would conceal their armies. By Celestia -..."
"Kid," Map Wright tried to interrupt.
"Let me finish, we've been here too many times now I think. It is my turn to talk!"
"No, really," Poncey agreed.
"If we - and I mean you two - could just look at the fundamental facts here, we would have been over and done with this sorry excuse for an expedition already. Instead we shift from Map Wright leading the group one day and then Poncey leading us in a completely different direction the next. If I didn't know any better I could've sworn you were deliberately trying to make this trip as unpleasant as possible. Well think again: I, me, and my father will be the one's writing the report - if you're trying to get any more popular within your respective fields then I suggest that you -"
"Look behind you!" the stallions yelled.
"Suggest that you behave your best or run the risk of never, ever, running another field trip again!"
The stallions made a full turn as they dashed off into the distant woods, soon far out of sight. Something had scared them off, and the colt was only now curious as to what it was. He turned slowly, hesitation being his greatest obstacle, and from his peripherals he could make out a colossal shadow standing over him.
It was tall and deformed; nothing like any canine, feline, bovine or hybrid he could recognise. A great bipedal golem of metal, skin and bone stood grasping the bindings of a much taller equine. The colt had not seen a sight like this. Whatever it was he was looking at, the colt wished he had not. The golem sighed heavily followed by an extended growl, but did not move. The equine appeared the least surprised of the two, this one at least appearing to be truly living.
What... are... you?"
"Me? Or do you mean him?" the large equine asked with a distinct female voice. The unusual mouth piece in her mouth distorted her voice, like when one's lips are forcefully widened.
"Oh my gosh, you talk!"
The colt took time to figure out what to say next, but did so through constant stammering and stuttering.
"Y-y-you are not a pony?" the colt finally mustered.
"I have never been called such, no."
"Th-then what?"
"A puzzling question," the large equine riddled. A joking smile came over her when she noticed her companion's pulled lip. "I am described as livestock, I am treated as treasure, I am worked as beast of burden, I am labelled as 'horse'. Whichever ease your confusion best."
The colt had yet to get a grasp of his speech and continued his broken talk, but took a few weary steps back.
"A-and w-what is th-tha-that?!"
The great equine appeared amused beyond words and she cackled at the frightened colt. She stomped at the earth in applause as the colt whimpered down to a more and more miserable posture. The stallions had already made their case of running, but the colt knew he could neither match the speed of his peers, nor an equine of that size. And so he tried to not earn the ill-intent of the golem before him.
"You are the first piece of fun I've had since my master and I arrived here, that has not turned sour. You should look at yourself."
The colt felt secure enough to face the equine, but bowed low on the ground.
"Horse? Master?"
"Yes, master. I am not from this land, and where I am from us horses are ruled by these 'horse masters'."
The response was briefer than preferred, perhaps a cultural difference. The colt still did not have the courage to stand up, a stranger was a stranger and the danger was not yet disproved.
"He will not hurt you, I promise," the horse assured. "He does not eat equine flesh unless it no longer serves a purpose."
"Equine? Oh, the stranger shares the scientific term..." the colt chuckled. "Erm, no danger at all?"
"You're barely half his size, I'm certain he will not care for you."
The colt got up on his hooves and inspected the alien specimen.
"Horse master, you say? Why that word?"
"The language you and I speak has no word for them; herders, horse masters, providers or caretakers, farfarers and words of the like are labels to help us describe them. In many ways I know as little as you, I would wager. It is as it has always been," the horse admitted. "They are not secretive, just beyond my comprehension."
"Surely you know more than that?"
"Cannot say that I do. He is my master and I need only to know what he wants from me. Life is that simple."
The colt dared turn his back to pick up the documents dropped by his peers.
"Um... I'm not sure why I haven't tried to run, but why are you here? And are you some kind of slave?"
"This horse master condemns slavery. My master seeks treasure."
The colt took a short moment to process the irony of that statement. He decided not to question the lack of logic.
"For what? Is he a collector?"
"No. I understand it is not for himself."
"Then what for?"
"I honestly do not know."
All this time the horse master had remained silent. It had started moving its head around, however, trying to find something to occupy his mind.
"Urm... he doesn't talk much, does he?" the colt asked.
"Truthfully? I do not think he knows what either of us are saying. In fact, I don't think he even knows we're talking."
"How do you... what?"
"The horse masters have... issues with understanding. Grunts and whines, yes, a spoken sentence, no. Body language, yes."
The colt cocked his head in disbelief.
"I don't understand. And I don't think I could. But you are not from Equestria?"
"No, we're not. We came here to escape the dragons. Encountered winged equines, took an unpleasant turn, twice. Attacked by a dog in a forest, did not end well. Unfortunate for us all. Life is supposed to be simple."
The horse tried to move forward but the colt decided to stop her.
"Um... I really don't know why I am asking you this... but," he started.
"Yes. Tell me."
"I was right in the middle of an expedition to find a lost stronghold before you came in and scared my peers. There might be treasure there." The colt paused. "I am not acting like myself right now."
"I don't understand. Equines on an expedition. I understand only farfarers do that."
"Well we ponies rule ourselves, there are no horse masters - or farfarers - around to... you know, care for us. And we have our own good times." He held forward an enclosed map and a lithograph. "And my hobby happens to be history and, especially, pre-Equestrian history,"
"Pre-Equestrian..." the horse muttered.
The horse master took an immediate interest in the lithograph when he saw it and grasped it with his deformed, talon-like appendage. The feeling was as unpleasant as the sight of the fore limb which reminded the colt of nothing he recognised, not even the talon it so much resembled. The horse master scanned over the lithograph intently almost as if he recalled it.
"He knows something?"
"That mound," the horse said. "We passed it not too long ago."
"Well, must be fate?"
The horse master tugged at the lead and made a full turn. Evidently he did recognise the markings and the scriptures. It was almost as if he had forgotten about the colt who had given it to him as he sped away with brisk steps.
"Hey, wait for me!" the colt called out. "Don't leave me behind!"
"Tread hastily, I only follow him."
"We never made introductions... er, my name is -"
"As I see it, you are 'young', nothing more," the horse interrupted whilst almost being dragged by the lead of her master.
"So much for treated as treasure," the colt joked.
When the trio arrived at the mound the horse master's first action was to plain out ram the stone wall embedded on its side. The wall yielded without a fight and pulled the horse master down with it into a tunnel.
"Is he always this blunt?" the colt asked.
"Again. I really do not know."
Despite groaning in pain the horse master soon pulled himself up with a victorious cheering. He cleared as much as he could of the crumbled rocks and spoke.
"What is he saying?" the colt asked.
"It's his kind's language. He's telling me to stay," the horse replied. "So I have no choice but to stay here."
The horse master dove bravely into the shadows of the under croft, unnerved by the unknown.
"Don't you want to follow?" the colt asked.
"I am content knowing where the sky is."
"Well I spent the last week trying to find this place, I'm going in!"
As the colt reached the entrance he looked back at the giant mare.
"Oh, my name is Merry. Merry Canterborough. Just thought I'd say that," he said
"And I will remember that until such a time as you earn it," the horse replied.
Merry shook his head in confusion but proceeded to follow the horse master - earning the right to use your name was an alien concept. Once again, a cultural difference presumably. Quickly the light from outside grew dim and was replaced by the bio-luminescence of the flora infesting the tunnel walls. As he entered a spacious chamber deep within he could see the horse master occupy its centre, seemingly caught in deep thought.
The horse master turned quickly. He had not noticed Merry enter and was none too impressed by his presence. However he neither shooed or snarled at him but instead seemed to accept him. The horse master proceeded further down the chamber to a short wooden gate. The gate was no doubt locked as the presence of a keyhole indicated. The horse master grabbed the door handle and twisted it, but to no effect.
"You are familiar with griffon architecture? You see, because they had talons for front limbs they had excellent dexterity. They created many different constructs that would rely solely on the dexterity of their talons, sort of a defence mechanism should a non-clawed creature ever enter."
Merry was proud of his knowledge of the griffins of old, but it was more than clear that the horse master was either not listening or ignorant to what was being said. Just as the horse had said. Sure, ponies had doors with handles too, but the griffin version was always more complex. Merry approached the door and peered through the keyhole. The horse master took a begrudging step to the side in response to the intrusion.
"When the griffins built their strongholds they would do so with the idea that no key would work. These locks are in fact only unlockable with a lockpick," Merry informed and produced a set from his saddlebag and presented it to the horse master. "You have... talon-like, uh, things. Maybe you could try."
The horse master looked at the thin pieces of metal but made no noticeable connection what they might be used for. Instead he turned to the gate and whispered impatiently. As he finished his nonsensical sentence the lock made a multitude of clicking noises and the gate swung open.
"Erm... magic works too."
The horse master was the first to enter into the much darker corridor beyond. But he did not get far before flinging himself backwards, almost landing on Merry. Having caught on at the micro-second he triggered it, the horse master had dodged a collapsing ceiling tile.
"Oh, the stronghold was used to store important belongings as well as being the armoury. I suspect we are passing the armoury and just going for the mother lode. So it makes sense we would find traps here. But, by word, how old they would be by now!"
Up on his hind legs again the horse master observed the corridor intently.
"I suspect we should be looking out for pressure plates. The griffins were at war with a flightless opponent back in those days, so they would have designed traps intended for flightless infiltrators. But you really can't understand me, can you?"
The horse master gave off a sharp howl of what must have been two words. As he did the corridor's ceiling tiles all came crashing down. Whatever traps this corridor housed were now surely all set off.
"Well you certainly are handy to keep around. Shall we?"
This time Merry took the lead and skipped across the corridor over the rubble. But as he reached the end of the corridor to the open doorway the floor suddenly sunk a bit. This could not be good. The wall tiles dropped off and revealed several holes. This must have been the infamous arrow trap from the fictions, and Merry had ran straight into it. A distinct clicking noise came from each hole followed by a faint whistle. And that was surely the end.
There was a sudden ache over Merry's back as what surely was another ceiling tile falling down. But instead of the impending multiple impalements Merry was expecting, the follow up of the air bursts was metal clanger. Dozens of 'clings' and 'clangs' echoed through the tunnel before silence befell it again. Strangely there was no agony, there was no impalement, nor were there any tiles. Standing over Merry was the horse master shielding the colt. And he had surprisingly sustained no damage from it. An arrow hung loosely from his shoulder, but it fell off with little encouragement.
"Oh my goodness, thank you!" Merry wailed. "I owe you my life!"
Thinking none of it the horse master brushed his side and left the colt lying. Instinct, not duty, had inspired the rescue.
"You're not even going to accept my thanks?! How is it that you are not the least bit moved by this place, and why are you so well prepared?"
Silence.
The room they had entered had no other doors, this was a protected vault the contents of which were very much a mystery. The horse master trod over the centre where he curiously absorbed all the details. Merry did not follow but instead searched the walls of the circular room.
"Empty. Not a single table, seat, speck of treasure. Dust, just dust!" Merry whined as he kicked his legs about.
The horse master glared at the nagging colt with disapproval. Merry did not notice it when he had first started but one of his kicks had dislodged one of the floor tiles and before he could respond to the change the horse master was already making himself busy figuring out which other tiles also were loose. Before much longer a staircase had made itself apparent.
"Of course. Hah ha."
The horse master jumped down, but his head stopped before it could disappear below floor level. The horse master was simply too tall to stand in the cellar below. He sighed in dismay, the first sign of actual emotion to Merry's knowledge.
"You need any help? See anything?"
Out from the darkness flew a golden bracelet. Merry inspected it intently and immediately recognised the craftsmanship.
"This is amazing! An actual griffon relic. Is there anything else in there?"
Not long before Merry asked the question a second load of jewellery came flying out from the cellar. The horse master peeked out inquisitively, calling to Merry's attention that he had the strangest dead-grey eyes. He looked back down the cellar and then to Merry. He spoke, but Merry could not immediately understand what the horse master tried to convey - until a strange echo filled his mind. And a cold, wet sensation crept over his body.
BRING A SACK
Merry felt himself compelled to seek out the horse waiting outside. When he saw her he impulsively barked.
"Sack. Where's the sack?"
"I don't understand," the horse replied.
"Sack, horse master, must have, need it!"
"Here, under my saddle," the horse said and presented her side.
Now that he could see it another problem arose: he could not reach it.
"Too tall, can I climb?" Merry whined while struggling with the thought of leaning his weight on a stranger.
"Your furore must have an explanation."
"No time, getting cold!" Merry grunted as he climbed to reach under the saddle.
Without as much as a 'thank you' Merry darted right back down the tunnel. He felt control return to him again as he neared the horse master. Something had taken control of his conscious mind and influenced it. Was it perhaps magic that had been at play?
The horse master ripped the sack out of Merry's mouth and brutishly threw gold pieces and gems into it without care for organisation.
"You may want to be careful," Merry suggested nervously. "They could bend or break from the weight."
Merry was regretting ever suggesting the horse master could take the treasure. What they had entered was not a stronghold's last bastion. It was a treasury, and no doubt that treasure belonged to royalty. But such thoughts would have to wait now that the horse master had suddenly taken a suspicious interest in the colt.
"If you can't carry that, then neither can I!"
But Merry's argument fell on deaf ears when the horse master tied the surplus thread onto the colt's saddlebag.
PULL IT
And with that said there was now no choice but to obey. Like before, a subconscious drive to accomplish a task ordered from the bottom of the spine rushed to the colt's head with the sensation of ice cold water. Merry did not want to do it, but the frustration grew with the hopelessness of the task. Already the corridor was proving a formidable challenge. With all the debris from the ceiling tiles getting caught on the sack the burden only increased. Merry was certain his horse master overlord was ignorant to his struggles, but that proved wrong soon when the horse master made it its business to clear the floor as best he could. But that seemed to be the extent of his mercy for now.
Now out of the corridor Merry's anxiety had relieved itself a bit. With a clear room with no obstructions it was as if his perception dictated how the enchanting effects of the horse master's words affected the his disposition towards the task at hoof. Sure the sack was heavy, but with each step towards the exit the task felt more and more accomplishing - at the same time the burden more bearable.
"How do you do it?" Merry panted. "The whole mind-control thing. How did you ever achieve this kind of magic?"
As usual the horse master was ignorant to the colt's banter and questions. It had become somewhat humorous at this point, a pony could say whatever he wanted to the horse master without response or fear of reprisal. Unfortunately it also meant that you would not be able to convey important messages, messages such as: this is a cache of royal treasure; they will have your head once they find out you took it.
Now came the biggest challenge. The tunnel out was a steep uphill from where Merry stood. How on earth he was going to pull the sack up there was a complete mystery, and that thought grated on his nerves. The frustration built up quickly and without thought the colt charged at the tunnel. Once inside the tunnel Merry could feel a helping hoof pushing the sack from the back. At least now he would not have to carry the burden on his own. Slowly the two inched up the tunnel out to the sunny outside. The blue sky soon came in view and Merry's frustrations began to lessen by the step until, finally, relief.
The mind controlling effect of the horse master's words had worn off; this Merry could feel. A sense of peace seemed to follow every time the order had been completed. Peace, coupled with a strange forgetting of fatigue, as if labour had never occurred. It was an eerie feeling, to be sure.
"Ah the intoxicating aroma of fresh air!" Merry cried out with joy. "Now if only I would be spared the fate of pulling this sack further.
"I had expected it would take longer," the horse commented.
"Yes, sorry about that. Your master has a knack for finding exactly what he's looking for and missing anything else." Merry joked, concealing his disappointment. "You're not treasure hunters, are you?"
"That he is not. I am simply his beast of burden, means of transport."
"Oh... life is simple. Yeah."
The horse master was already busy packing the new found goods into the horse's saddlebags. Unlike Merry, or himself, the great mare appeared only a little, if at all, bothered by the encumbrance. When the bags were full and a few jewels yet remained in the sack the horse master carelessly tossed them to the colt.
"He's not interested in those. You can keep them," the horse said.
"Figures."
Merry was touched, but not in a completely positive manner. The sack felt like a petty payment after indentured servitude, not satisfying, but deserved. Something had to be done to capture the moment.
"Miss, um... ma'am."
The horse appeared unimpressed.
"Would you mind taking a picture of the horse master and me together? Something to show the ponies back home."
"A picture."
Merry hastily whipped up a camera and a tripod from his saddlebag and set it up.
"Yes, he was a - and let's be honest - pain in the neck to work with, but no one will ever believe me when I tell them. So I was hoping you might take a picture of him and me together."
"I don't understand," the horse explained.
Short of words on how to explain technology to the technologically impaired, Merry devised his sentence carefully.
"Easy. Uhm, gently apply pressure with your hoof here and then you will have taken a picture. Nothing to it."
"Easy enough."
Merry positioned himself next to the horse master. The horse master half bent over Merry as if about to trip over him, just as the horse pressed on the button. With a flash it was over and Merry bowed politely. Out of the camera came the photograph slowly developing its image.
"I have never seen this device before," the horse said.
"It's a Polaroid. It develops the photographs almost right away, helps when you don't want to return to the dark room - erm... forget I said anything."
Not amused the horse master trod over to his horse and mounted it. He rubbed his eyes with a groan and spoke another few unintelligible words.
"Here I'll do one for you to take with you," Merry said as he prepared the camera for another shot.
"No, he did not like-"
Merry took another photograph of the horse master and the horse, which sparked an angry cry from the horse master.
"Young!" the horse growled. "I tried to tell you not to!"
"Well I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. Er, here's your photograph."
The horse master leaned forward and grasped the piece of card with his long and spindly talons. He observed it briefly but then pocketed it without much thought.
"You need to give it time to develop," Merry said. "So where're you off to now?"
"Somewhere there is no forest, I would imagine. We have not quite been able to leave it so far," the horse admitted.
"Well I am off to Trottingham now, which is that-a-way," Merry said and pointed. "Good luck with your treasure hunting, and stuff."
Merry galloped off with his equipment, a photograph to remember the occasion by and a sack with some griffon jewellery in it. The expedition had been an utmost success on his part, now if only he could account for his peers' disappearance.
"You have done the impossible. I am here, miserable, burdened by his load, alone and helpless - and to your defence I only hear ridiculous rhyming, pointless passages of petty point-of-views, accusing a culture so distant from your own, yet you yield aside no prejudice and attack before you know anything! Perhaps we would have met, or perhaps we would have not. Perhaps I will just crush your skull right here and now, because the way I see it I have nothing more to lose! I can't handle my saddle to reach the food, I can't unload the values attached to me, I can't search and find my own foods, I can't fight predators when they train their fangs on me and worst of all, I am now forced to make my own decisions!" the mare screamed. "Life was meant to be so simple!"
The zebra was out of her elements. She had taken a stance against a stranger without the good sense to question the evidence. She recognised her own friends in this from only months ago when she herself had been judged without the benefit of a doubt. But her own mistake had cost a life and the safety of another.
"I... don't know what to say," Zecora whispered.
"Don't, I am lost to the world either way."
"Wait, no, I can still do you right. Perhaps if you gave me a chance I could shed some light!" Zecora pleaded.
Zecora was intently reading through the bark book's final chapter when she suddenly noticed a second piece of paper in the gift wrapping. Twilight must have had put it there by mistake, and its importance could be high. Zecora produced the paper with intrigue and turned it over. It was a flier.
The Wight of the Waters allegedly spotted out on the main road between Trottingham and Manehattan.
There was a sketch with the headline followed by:
Avoid if possible, bring extra food if travelling between these locations as it could save you valuable time to make an escape. Travel by train is especially advised between these two cities.
The sketch was eerily similar to the bark carvings made by Jua. Wight of the Waters, that could only mean the horse slavers had crossed ocean and found Equestria. Zecora brought forth an atlas and found Trottingham - while not by, it was very much near, the coastline, with a smaller town close by known as the Waterfront. Between Trottingham and Manehatten stood a very dear town, one which could certainly be crossed at any time: Ponyville.
"How can this be? I must not wait and see," Zecora muttered.
She packed her bag and threw on her robe. She glimpsed down on the bark book and the flier one more time before pocketing them and exiting through the door too hastily to shut it properly behind herself. She galloped franticly wanting to waste no time to inform her friends. If ever there was a danger, then silence was not the answer to averting it.
Though the Everfree Forest was almost as familiar to Zecora as her own front hooves, she noticed herself making mistakes she had not hoped to. She stepped on fallen branches that snapped audibly, she disturbed the shrubbery, she damaged spiders' webs - all of which would alert a creature to the presence of another. And following these trails would lead to only two places: her home, and the exit of the forest, no doubt well-known to its inhabitants.
"Oh, no, I've been careless now," Zecora groaned and stopped. "To not repeat this I must vow."
For security reasons she turned herself around and prepared to make additional decoy markings. Ponyville was a town that would be safe from any curious inhabitants of the Everfree, her home was a shed too easily torn. As she kicked trees and scratched bushes for effect she noticed a strangely shaped track of prints on the ground. Something had walked here, carefully enough not to disturb the flora, but recklessly enough to leave deep imprints.
"What is this?" Zecora asked herself.
She leaned down to investigate but could not make front nor back of what the marks came from. Consistently, they were elongated and plain, like a pawless cat walking on its hind legs, but the steps were too distant. Something on only two legs made these, but from the top of her head she could not think of a good match. She brought out the flier one more time to look at the sketch, which had been much more detailed. Unfortunately the lower body was mostly omitted. She then checked the bark book once more but could only make out a vague match. Flat on their legs the slavers appeared to stand, with a long platform forming the bottom.
"It is!"
Hoof steps from another source echoed against the trees behind Zecora as she packed the book and flier, and before long the clanger of chain followed with a muffled, almost dragging effect of wood knocking on earth. It came from one of the false trails, so already something had noticed her actions. Too soon for comfort. In an attempt to avoid an encounter, Zecora carefully leapt over the bush and hid. She controlled her breathing as best as she could and waited.
Closer and closer the steps were getting and now she could even hear breathing - one heavy, the other light and composed. From the small spreads of the bush leaves Zecora could see two figures crossing by; one definitely a horse, as was indicated by the heavy steps. The other figure was hard to make out as it was behind the horse itself.
"Why now, why here? I made tracks leading everywhere," Zecora thought to herself.
The horse kept going for a while but the other figure stopped. It examined the ground for a brief moment before calling out, prompting the horse to turn around. This also allowed Zecora to see it in full. Without a doubt, it was a horse slaver. And it knew she was there.
Despite having spotted her, the slaver eventually turned and walked away and the horse followed. If it was safe to leave, Zecora did not know. Carefully crawling out of her hiding spot, Zecora did everything she could to distance herself from the slaver. She ran as best she could on the path that would lead her straight out of the forest. Another moment and she might be too late to warn everypony. But then she ran into a more certain threat. Before her lurked two timber wolves, both made quite aware of her presence.
They snarled loudly as they prepared for their attack. Zecora pulled off her robe and threw it at the wolves to create a diversion and turned right around and ran back. She risked losing speed by turning suddenly, and most certainly that would not fool a wolf, so she followed the exact same path knowing what she might run into there. The wolves were beginning to catch up. Much more nimble than her, the wolves were making full use of the terrain to catch her and she could almost feel their breath upon her back.
Zecora fought as hard as she could to increase her speed. Each step had to move her faster, but the path was more apt to be crossed on paws than hooves. And it was just as Zecora was certain a claw was only an inch left from sinking into her skin that it appeared before her. Barely, just barely, Zecora turned a little bit to the side and narrowly avoided colliding with the horse slaver and its horse as the slaver yelled out and charged. One of the wolves yelped and, as far as Zecora could hear, was flung into the bushes. The other wolf growled loudly and, as Zecora turned to look, it was clear the slaver had fearlessly challenged the two wolves and would not let them cross. Unsure what to do, Zecora found herself simply staring at the grappling beasts occupying the path before her.
As the other wolf climbed out of the bushes the slaver made an interesting decision to handle the unfair odds. By pulling out what appeared to be a piece of itself, a bone or the like, the slaver pinned one of the wolves' legs onto the ground and concentrated solely on the other. The adaptability was astounding to observe to be sure, and some comfort was derided from it. As the scuffle continued, Zecora noticed the horse standing behind her doing, as she did, nothing. The horse appeared completely confident that the slaver would prevail and was paying no attention whatsoever to Zecora's presence.
The timber wolves were no more than the composites of wood bits bound together by unnatural means, which was why they were found in the Everfree Forest. The slaver, who would have come from overseas, and have no reason to know this, suddenly appeared more the wiser to the timber wolves' weakness and it forced its talons unto the base of the wolf's head and tore it off. Doing this the remaining body of the wolf suddenly fell into a pile of twigs and branches. The fighting with one wolf had left the slaver turned and at a disadvantage against the remaining wolf, who had at some point freed itself from its holding. By reaction Zecora produced a stunning agent and flung it at the wolf as it neared the slaver and the capsule detonated, releasing a large cloud of gas.
Both Zecora and the horse backed away from the area, but the slaver was given no such luxury as he struggled to throw the wolf off his back. The wolf tried and tried again to sink its claws into the slaver without success, and biting was just as futile as clawing; the slaver appeared impervious to injury. Having slowly managed to reach the place where the wolf had previously been nailed to the ground the slaver withdrew the weapon still stuck in the ground and turned it to the wolf. The wolf jumped away to avoid the sharp end as the slaver gave chase. Both the wolf and the slaver were beginning to show clear signs of fatigue and impeded movement. Zecora had carelessly subjected both the wolf and the slaver to the stunning gas.
"Oh no. I did not mean to make it so!" Zecora said, causing the horse to notice her.
"What have you done?" the horse asked.
"I tried to stop the wolf with a stunning effect, but the slaver was caught in the cloud most direct."
The horse appeared more confused after that.
Where the wolf was going and the slaver chasing, Zecora knew was a tall cliff. If either fell they would be beyond helping.
"We must stop them before they fall" Zecora yelled and ran after. "The cliff they will reach let not a soul out at all!"
The horse followed, but soon outran the smaller zebra. Up ahead the wolf slouched at the edge of the cliff, awaiting the slaver to reach for it. If the wolf had a plan, it would be to trick the slaver to jump in. The slaver came closer to the wolf in heavy, cumbersome steps and the wolf too had barely the strength to stand.
"Stop him! He will fall if he reaches him!" Zecora warned the far ahead horse, unsure why she was concerned for the slaver's safety.
Too late. Unable to evade, the timber wolf took the full length of the slaver's weapon and fell backward, backward over the cliff edge. Weary, and too weak to react, the slaver was dragged down with it down the high fall. The horse stopped with only inches to spare and cried out for the fallen slaver. Zecora was silent, unable to find the words to express her regret.
Below flowed a rapid river and the horse appeared to follow something with its eyes.
"The river leads somewhere. Tell me, striped wild kin," the horse demanded.
"I do not know where this river lead," Zecora replied hesitantly. "It engulfs those whom its danger does not heed."
The horse growled and turned toward Zecora. She took angry steps to close the distance and surely was ready to strike, but that's where it ended.
---
The horse was clearly suspicious.
"Three cycles have passed and my master and I have not left the forest. You would do well to find me a way out of this nightmare," the horse said.
Zecora felt relieved to be demanded such a small recompense but at the same time cautious to the intention. If the horse's master had just died and she had cared for him, surely a way out of the forest was a much too small price to pay for his death.
"I do not understand your ransom; I lead you out of this forest in return of my freedom?"
"It is a fair price," the horse asserted.
Without a word Zecora began to lead the way. If she lead to horse out of the Everfree Forest she would have honoured her word. Honoured her word, but left the horse alone and at risk of the dangers that the world possessed. There had to be something Zecora could do to make matters right. Something to atone for her crime. She knew not what, however. Not now.
In the midst of flying food and spilling fluids, splashing violently over the kitchen floor and walls, Rarity was in exuberance as she waged a food war on her sweet little sister, Sweetie Belle.
"Ha ha! I got you!" Sweetie Belle yelled as she flung an egg at her sister.
"Well how about this. Take that!" Rarity laughed as she retaliated with a spoonfull of yoghurt.
By some spell the two sisters had woken up that morning with the most insatiable appetite for a good and friendly scuffle, and breakfast felt like the best opportunity to engage in it.
The door knocked followed by a sudden intrusion.
"Rarity, you here?!" a voice most likely belonging to Applejack asked. "Y'gotta come here now. Rainbow Dash's gone missin'!"
Rarity dashed out to meet her friend who shirked at the sight.
"What happened to you?" Applejack asked.
"What, this? I was playing with Sweetie Belle," Rarity explained. "What happened to Rainbow Dash?"
Applejack appeared caught up in thought and did not answer for a short moment.
"Wow, I really did rub off on you for the better..." Applejack mumbled. "But serious this time - RD's gone missin'. I already told Twi and Fluttershy and they've gone to Trottingham to - actually forget about that - and ya gotta come with me."
"Well, okay... so, what are we waiting for?" Rarity asked.
"You don't want to clean up first?"
"What happened Rarity?" Sweetie Belle asked from the kitchen.
"Uh, nothing, go play with your friends. I have to go see a friend," Rarity replied and cantered out the door.
"You really don't want to clean up first?" Applejack asked again.
"Oh, please. For once in my life I don't prioritise my appearance and you're questioning it?"
"Eh, well, fine. But the pegasi who told me this went to the hospital. Don't reckon they'd let you in like that."
--- The Hospital ---
"What's wrong with you feather heads?! I flew back here and all I could see were you guys skulking about looking real suspicious," Thunderlane scolded. "And you left Autumn Leaf behind just like that. What if she didn't reach us?"
"We're sorry, we really are. But we didn't fly off on our own accord," one of the accused pegasi said. "It was like mind control or something."
"That's stupid. I flew here and saw Hyde on the way - he didn't do anything to me. You guys are just cowards and too scared to even admit it," Thunderlane continued.
"Well Blue Hoof did say something about that, remember? Mind control. That's how he got Blue Hoof to begin with," a pegasus in Thunderlane's group informed.
"Excuse me, boys and girls, I am here to see the pegasus that... wait, of course," Rarity said.
Thunderlane turned his eyes over to Rarity for a brief moment before training them once again at the group opposite him in the room.
"Blue Hoof's in ward 2D, but I doubt she's awake yet," he grumbled.
"Oh, but we weren't..." Rarity started. "Nevermind. Come on, Applejack. Let's go see her."
"I can't let you in, ma'am," the nurse by the reception said as Rarity approached.
"And why ever not?"
"This is a clean and sterile environment. It would be bad for the patients," the nurse informed.
"Told ya," Applejack said.
"But I live on the opposite end of town central. It would take forever to go home and wash up!" Rarity complained.
"I'll take it from here. Ask these fellas why don'tcha?" Applejack said and headed on in through to the wards.
"You wouldn't happen to have a staff shower I could borrow?" Rarity asked the nurse, giving her a friendly wink.
---
"Did you have a shower? How did you get here so fast? And I thought you were gonna ask them lot down at the reception," Applejack asked.
"I did, but I still don't understand who this Hyde fellow is," Rarity replied.
"I-is... is that your bathrobe?"
"Nevermind. Where's Blue Hoof?"
"Erm... lookin' at her."
Before the two ponies laid a sorry sight. A pegasus with a suspended leg and braced wing, moaning silently to signal her discomfort.
"She got beat up good, the doctor said. Might never..." Applejack started before whispering. "... might never fly again."
"Oh, what? No----! You're mistaken, he heh, this is nothing," the blue pegasus laughed, having overheard Applejack. "I know I will, I just know I will... I will be... fine."
She was delusional and high on false hope. Rarity had not been there to see it, but Applejack's face told her: Blue Hoof would glance at her wing and her leg periodically, cringe her face to block the tears, before forcing herself to smile and believe she would recover. Rarity knew well the reach of a pony's hubris and the dangers of it.
"Blue Hoof, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" Rarity asked with a high, friendly voice.
"Perfect, he heh... wish my dad would visit, but he probably doesn't know I'm in here yet. Maybe later today, ha ha," Blue Hoof giggled. "But it's nothing, look the leg is swollen and practically whole again. I'll be out in no time!"
"Well, you seem very strong, darling, very strong indeed," Rarity complimented. "Why I wonder how this happened at all."
"Oh, that was nothing! A short story, really. There was this... uh."
"Yes?" Rarity probed.
"Hyde...?"
"I think you were mighty brave for doing what you did. Thunderlane told be you tried to tackle that Hyde fella," Applejack praised.
"Ehem," Rarity started. "I actually still don't know what Hyde looks like or what he/she is."
"Ah, I gave Fluttershy a sketch when I sent her with Twi to Trottingham," Applejack said. "Oh... yeah, that doesn't tell you anything."
Blue Hoof cocked and jerked her head repeatedly, her eyes shooting in all directions, as if trying to navigate an imaginary maze. Something was stuck in her head, an image she all too clearly had trouble processing.
"Tall, stands on his hind legs, bony face and white eyes. Erm..." Applejack said trying to recall all the features. "Sat on a horse and did weird chanting... might have been the horse, though."
"Yes-yes-yes, but I think Blue Hoof's come up with something," Rarity remarked dismissively.
"You were knocked out cold, I heard, before any pony knew what was what, but you pulled through," Applejack explained. "Mind telling us what happened there? Thunderlane stuck to his version, and I didn't quite buy it."
"There was the... a..." Blue Hoof muttered, "... a carcass over the fire - the doe we flew out to save, if you were not told - and... and then that monster spread out his creepy spindly limbs... " Blue Hoof tried gesturing to mimic the sight "... like some four-legged spider and he's got this scary head like a dragon," she recalled, drawing no breath before continuing. "And then I flew for-it-and-everything-just-kindofwentdarkandthen...."
"I beg your pardon?" Rarity asked. "Would you mind taking that last part again?"
"What? Oh... it went all dark and I. I did this...? I hurt myself on purpose?" Blue Hoof clamoured. "Why in the name of Celestia did I do that?"
"Thunderlane said sumthin' 'bout mind control, ring any bells?" Applejack asked.
"No. Just the notion that I told myself to crash. I remembered before, I just know it. But now it seems so natural. Why am I so stupid?"
"Well you're here, and you're safe. I'm sure you will get better. How's your wing? And your leg, of course."
"Um... the nurses gave me anaesthetics for the pain, so that's fine. But my leg is all bust," Blue Hoof replied with a pause. "I think my wing will make a perfect recovery, though. I'll fly for sure! He heh, ha ha-!"
"Well at least she's a little more honest with herself than she was before," Applejack whispered.
"I don't want to delve into unpleasant subjects, but I need to know what may have happened to Rainbow Dash. Did the two of you, you and Rainbow Dash, fight it? Is that how Rainbow Dash got lost?"
Applejack tapped her head. "But before you answer that." Applejack took a moment to explain to Rarity what she knew about the new stranger who had taken her dog, and then held her hoof to Blue Hoof to pass the figurative microphone over.
"So, Rainbow Dash is missing? Aw, feathers! My dad's going to kill me for this!" Blue Hoof whined.
"So you don't know?" Rarity asked.
"Last I saw she was standing over me and was perfectly fine..." Blue Hoof said. "... but if she tried to fight... um, Hyde I suppose he would have left her on the ground or something. Didn't kill me, right?"
"Well that's what I'm worried about," Rarity sighed. "Thunderlane told me Hyde ran away after he hurt you when the other pegasi arrived."
Rarity looked over to Applejack.
"And RD won't have any back-up," Applejack whispered to herself.
That revelation laid itself as thick as smoke on the horizon, where there was fire to be found for sure.
"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," Rarity said in hopeful contemplation. "Thunderlane decided to personally lead a search party; however he could still be around..."
"Well yeah, I should know that all too well. But I'm also thinkin'... oh, where's Apple Bloom now?" Applejack asked herself.
"Playing with her friends as usual, I should dare fathom," Rarity said. "I think they were planning a sleepover at my place tonight...?"
Applejack's eyes shone up and a weak smile stretched her lip.
"I hope you're right, or there might be big trouble waiting," she said as he smile quickly faded.
The two ponies made a few hasty steps toward the exit when suddenly Blue Hoof cried out "Please, don't leave me!"
Turning their heads to look at the pegasus the first thing to capture the two ponies' attention was the shimmer of tears now coursing down Blue Hoof's face.
"I don't want the other pegasi to see me like this, it is embarrassing enough already, but I don't wanna be alone!" Blue Hoof cried. "If Rainbow Dash got hurt because of me, how could I face the rest now? Many of those pegasi I know from the flying team and I totally flopped on them. What would they say if they saw me like this?"
"I wager they would be relieved to see you're well; at least mostly so," Applejack said confidently. "Sure you fail every now and then, but I lost my friend because of what I did - somethin' I decided to do. Now do you see me standin' here feelin' sorry for myself?"
"Erm... no?"
"No, but you're blameless. You had no way of knowing what you were gettin' yourself into. So whatever you do, don't let this be your breaking point. Be strong now; I will get your friends"
"Uh... okay. I think I can do that," Blue Hoof said with some confidence.
As Applejack disappeared behind the door's corner Rarity was left behind to accompany the still tearing pegasus. Though she would normally know how to deal with the emotional, Rarity was at a loss. Applejack was not normally so strong in bolstering other's mental strength, at least not the way Rarity knew her.
"You really think they won't be mad at me?" Blue Hoof asked.
"Well... ha ha, of course, dear. Why would they be angry at you?" Rarity said. It was then she realised that, yes, she would have been angry at Blue Hoof for compromising Rainbow Dash's safety. It actually grated on her nerves to watch Blue Hoof draw strength from others this way, while she was just lying down in a hospital bed and, perhaps falsely, lament what her current state had done to others. "I'm sure they will be glad to see you alive, at least."
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, yes I am. Why would I not be?" Rarity laughed as the notion that Rainbow Dash might not actually be alive any longer began to creep down her spine. They hadn't been the best of friends, but they were still very special friends.
"Rarity?" Applejack called from down the hall.
Rarity peeked out to see a cringed earth pony drawing her hoof across her lips and speaking through her teeth.
"They are no longer in the reception."
"What are you talking about?" Rarity asked.
"Shush! They all left, I said," Applejack whispered.
Rarity summoned her friend back in the room, where Blue Hoof gave a disappointed, yet relieved, sigh. Not entirely sure how to proceed at point, fully aware now that the pegasi were already carrying out a rescue effort - and most certainly would not be a contributing anything in this situation - the two ponies simply lingered and kept the bedridden patient company. An hour or so had passed with little talk being exchanged, apart from perhaps a mention of the latest hype in Canterlot, which Blue Hoof had a surprising interest in. Another hour passed with considerably less silence as the Blue Hoof's anaesthetics were wearing off. Despite the pain returning Blue Hoof had become more talkative, almost to a Pinkie Pie level. The topics varied greatly and Applejack and Rarity shifted in the amount of attention they could possibly give. By the end of it both wanted to leave very quick-like, but not until Blue Hoof finally fell asleep did they have a good enough conscience to do so.
"I'm headin' back to the farm, maybe Apple Bloom is still there, and Big Mac is lookin' after her," Applejack said.
"If I see Apple Bloom at the boutique, should I come tell you?"
"Naw, I'd know sure enough if she ain't home. 'Sides I'll just come by and make sure."
The two ponies parted ways, both hurrying to their respective destinations. Within eye-shot of her boutique a familiar figure flashed by Rarity's peripheral. Though certain it was Zecora, Rarity was very occupied with finding her sister and let the surprise pass her by.
"Sweetie Belle! Are you home?!" Rarity called, barely masking her concerned tone as she stormed through the door.
"We're up here, sis!" Sweetie Belle replied. "All three of us." Sweetie Belle peeked down the stairs. "Why, what's going on?"
"Oh, nothing." For fear of inquisitive minds, Rarity felt every need to dumb the earlier outbreak. "How would you girls like a good sleepover? We could have so much fun."
"Uh..." Sweetie Belle mumbled, quick to grow suspicious, only disrupted by an intruding Apple Bloom.
"That was kinda the idea already; we said that last Tuesday. Did anythin' change?"
"Well I just spoke with Applejack. I know she would feel a lot safer if you girls were all here in town." Rarity clarified.
"Well... if you say so." Apple Bloom sighed. "Do I have to go and get my stuff?"
"Oh, no. Don't bother. We'll just stay here until Applejack comes over. She should be here before long."
"I wasn't really paying attention. What's going on?" Scootaloo asked.
"That Wight of the Waters I told you about," Apple Bloom said with a sad tone. "Rarity says she feels best if we stay."
"Now, now, no sour faces. Head back to the room and I will take care of the rest," Rarity said. "Wait... the who?"
In brief Apple Bloom told Rarity her own account of yesterday's event, and how Winona had gone missing. Understandingly Rarity nodded her head and simply asked the fillies to retire to the bed room.
"I will bring up some lemonade and cookies, so be on your best behaviour now," she said.
"Fine," Sweetie Belle said with a slightly less reluctant tone. "Now tell us the whole story again, Apple Bloom," she continued as the three fillies disappeared from eye sight.
"Well I think that went rather swimmingly. Don't you, Rarity?" Rarity said to herself. "But why did she say Wight of the Waters?"
She glanced out the door and confirmed her earlier notion: Zecora was in Ponyville. Why, she did not know, but with what's been going on, perhaps asking her was a good idea. She trotted over and was just about to mention Hyde, but Zecora's face told a very detailed story.
"Um, Zecora. You haven't had a bad encounter with strangers, have you?" Rarity asked.
"Oh no, not me, Rarity. I have done something terrible, you see," Zecora replied.
"Well come in and tell me all about it."
Hesitantly Zecora complied. Holding to her earlier promise, Rarity allowed this conversation to follow into the kitchen where she began preparing the fillies' snack. Zecora sighed lightly as she began to explain what had happened. Intently Rarity listened and absorbed every detail. Despite the constant rhyming and Rarity's inability to clearly picture what exactly it was she was meant to imagine, she still felt every bit engaged in the story. Zecora concluded her story explaining how she had taken the horse she had met to Sweet Apple Acres where she had hoped for it to find work.
"Wow! A horse, for real in Sweet Apple Acres?" Scootaloo said. "Apple Bloom, if your brother and sister were bucking through those trees on their own well enough, how much easier would it be with a horse on the job?"
"I dunno, it would first have to know the trade. It ain't all strength, y'know," Apple Bloom replied.
"Girls!?" Rarity yelled in surprise. "When did you get here?"
"Well first we were upstairs, but when you never came, we came to you instead," Sweetie Belle explained as she dunked her cookie in a glass of lemonade.
"But can you imagine? I mean, those horses are massive, and could surely carry the load of two Big Macs!" Scootaloo continued.
"Are you sayin' my brother can't compete with a horse? He's a darn strong pony, I'll have you know," Apple Bloom tried to defend.
"Yes, it is true; that horse was big and surely strong. But to compete with Big Macintosh, you are wrong. I only sought to help it build a ground, on where it a new life can hope to have found," Zecora explained.
Rarity thought on that one for a while before rolling her lip: "So... you met with its companion? Correct?"
"Yes, this is so."
"And now he's gone...?"
"Yes, yes, Rarity. And to that I had no remedy."
"And this was not less than a day ago?" Rarity asked as she leaned close in.
"Today, in fact. I am surprised that this horse so strongly held her heart intact," Zecora praised with a remorseful tone.
Rarity felt like kicking back in relief but put two items before her; one: a potential threat had been quenched before it had the chance to wreck further havoc, and two: she was still a friend short and what was to say no repercussions would follow?
"Girls," Rarity started.
"Yes, Miss Rarity?" Apple Bloom was the first to reply.
"I don't want any of you to take too strongly to heart what you have heard here. No forming of opinions, no making of stories, no ideas of adventuring and under no circumstance - especially you Apple Bloom - should you make your guest feel at all cornered on this matter."
"What, why?"
"Because you do not know everything yet. I will not have my own sister making assumptions and I most certainly don't want a misunderstanding causing trouble."
"You are very wise in this, Miss Rarity," Zecora commended. "A strong heart is not a stone wall; you must be careful, or a heart you may break, above all."
"But now I am all curious. Now I just wanna go back home and meet that horse," Apple Bloom said.
Rarity looked to Zecora before replying.
"That horse belonged to Hyde, this Wight of the Waters. It may well be unstable and scared without its companion. You will under no circumstance, and I will say this only one time, harass that horse. You will leave it alone until Applejack takes you back to the farm. Same goes for you two, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo."
"But Rarity-"
"No, one time only! Zecora, you are more than welcome to stay for longer if you're not feeling well."
"Thank you most kindly," Zecora said with a bow. "I will gladly accept your hospitality."
After some time of mature and grown-up conversation, well proper for repelling children, Rarity and Zecora had come to enjoy this moment best described as casual debriefing. Now more strong of heart Zecora could let go of some guilt for the time being as she enjoyed a newly boiled cup of tea with a friend. Rarity could see her friend needed this, and so did she, having had her mind occupied by concern for Rainbow Dash's well-being. As both matters were, ultimately, out of her hoof there was some sense of peace in the opportunity to simply put aside the worries and capture the moment. Even if that moment was blissful ignorance.
"Sis, you have to see this!" Sweetie Belle shouted from upstairs.
"Why, what's the matter?" Rarity asked as she walked over to the stairs.
"There's smoke coming from the forest!"
"What forest?"
"The Everfree Forest! Look, look!"
"And that is where Zecora's hut is!" Apple Bloom yelled. "There's a fire!"
Rarity turned to the zebra who was frozen in shock.
"I could have sworn..." Zecora whispered as she slowly put aside her cup. "I was not so hasty as to have forgotten..."
Rarity had barely the chance to turn around before Zecora flew for the door. Rarity tried her best to follow, but had a growing numbness clawing from her stomach outward; for, sure enough, there was smoke on the horizon.
As they passed through the gates to the manor Twilight noticed the guard, much similar in uniform and appearance to those of Princess Luna's Winged Night Guard - even having the bat-like wings - and it left a strange message about one particular Sir Bacoltermann. If he had a royal guard stationed outside his manor then he must be more high profile than Twilight had even known. Interesting considering she grew up in the Canterlot upper class.
The inside of the manor, seasoned well with age, struck Twilight with a heavy aura of isolation. It felt very much as if this house had not seen a visitor in many a years.
"Sure is... still here," Twilight said.
"Huh? Yes. Typically no pony visits. Most of the time any visitor will be met outside," Black Hoof informed.
"That guard outside, she looked like a royal guard," Twilight continued.
"Well, Bacoltermann is knighted. Just a gesture, really. Nopony has ever actually threatened him."
"But even if knighted, this is a long way from Canterlot. What did he do for that honour?" Twilight asked.
"He constructed a flagship that was given to the royal family, well at least he oversaw its construction," Black Hoof explained. "That's why."
The group had moved relatively far into the large atrium and were making their way to the front room. From the opening to what looked like a small kitchen Twilight spotted a white pegasus of grand stature seated by a small table. He appeared to be eating, slowly as if only just a second ago having dragged himself out of bed. His mane was rugged and unkempt and Twilight was torn between asking Black Hoof who that stallion was, or whether it was better to leave the matter alone. But ask she did, regardless.
"Mr. Hoof, that stallion over in that room..." Twilight said as she nodded over.
"Him?"
"... Yes. I was just curious. Who is that?"
"It is as I said before, not many ponies visit as of late. And so that is not a visitor."
"Is it family, then?"
"Oh, yes. That's how we see it."
"His son?"
"Son-in-law-to-be - were there ever a daughter."
The answer left only more questions unanswered, but Twilight had no intention of pursuing further.
"Manny!" Black Hoof yelled as they climbed the stairs. "Manny, I'm here to see you!"
The loud howling was sure to arouse suspicion even amongst familiar faces. Yet somehow the stallion from downstairs appeared to have been completely ignorant by the racket.
"Manny, you dusty old carpet, I have some friends who need to speak with you! Man-NEY!!!"
They entered a room, a study, where dust was all the air and only a single window had its curtains pulled to let light in. There stood a stallion mostly masked by the light surrounding him like an aura.
"That's him?" Shady Daze asked. "He's just an old stallion."
"Where's your manners?" Fluttershy scolded. "He could be as wise as anypony, at least."
"Ho-h boy, let's get this over with," Twilight muttered to herself.
Before the three ponies stood a haggard stallion peering out of the window of his study, carefully examining all the boats arriving and departing from the harbour. He had a wild beard hanging short from his chin, his mane was barely kept enough to allow it to be tied in a tail, and he wore a deep purple smoker jacket. The fact that he had not made an effort to notice his visitors meant one of two things: he was hard of hearing or very dismissive.
"Hi, excuse me-" Twilight started with a clear and strong tone, yet withheld so as to not seem demanding.
"Manny! How have you been you half-washed rug? Still staring out that window?" Black Hoof exclaimed with a friendly tone. "Why just as I left you too - four weeks now?"
The stallion looked over his shoulder and barely gave Black Hoof as much as an acknowledging nod before turning back to the window.
"The search's been great, very educational, I'll have you know," Black Hoof said and the old stallion looked back at him. "I hear your son is at it now with that Viola girl from the bakery."
"No, too young. You're thinking about Coco Sweet," the stallion corrected. "And this has been going on for a while, maybe even a year. Can't be too sure."
"Same thing, different bird! So, what's coming off it?"
"The usual, I'd wager. 'This is the one, dad, you have to believe it.'"
"He's got to be right at some point, right?"
"He's left for Manehattan to work on some project of his; I can feel the old traditional art of courtship slowly dying."
" Allow it, eh. You were quite the filly-fooler in your youth!" Black Hoof remarked.
This made the stallion react with vigour. Having earlier noticed his guests the accusation came as a knife from the dark.
"I was not!" the stallion roared. "I was the same age as all of them! So that doesn't count!"
"Some of them," Black Hoof pointed out with a smirk. "But now that I have your undivided attention, how about you take a look at your guests?"
The stallion turned around with wide eyes that refused to make eye-contact.
"Don't listen to a word this fool is saying. He's a menace, and a liar, he is!" the stallion said.
"What's a filly-fooler?" Shady Daze asked Fluttershy with a low voice, but Fluttershy shook her head with a dismissive face. "No? Okay."
"So this is Sir Bacoltermann that I was talking about. The first pony to have spotted your, so called, Hyde."
"Who's Hyde? What's this all about?" Bacoltermann asked.
"The Wight, y'know?" Black Hoof replied.
"Well why the bloody salt didn't you say so?"
"Umm, Sir... Bacoltermann?" Twilight tried again. "I think your, um, Wight has found its way to Ponyville."
"Rubbish, the last sighting of it was apparently just a day or so ago," Bacoltermann said dismissively.
"You may wish to consider the last few sightings to be made up," Black Hoof said. "The inconsistencies between the stories are all the proof you need for that."
"Well good, then. Because not a single of those dam... I mean silly ponies seem to recall what the bloo... what the Wight of the Waters even looked like. I mean my son only made a detailed painting of the thing," Bacoltermann said as he walked over to a desk drowned in papers.
From under the piles of papers Bacoltermann produced a relatively large landscape painting detailing the Wight of the Waters.
"I doubt I will need to describe it to you, eh?" Bacoltermann asked.
The painting depicting a curved boat sailing over wild waves with a deformed creature scratching at the mast. It glared at the viewer with dead-set eyes that resembled two moons. The creature itself was near black with a dark brown mane and simple attire, much akin to a vest and a pair of thick trousers.
"I did not quite figure out its detailed appearance, being very much... un-pony so to speak," Bacoltermann explained. "So my son decided to make the face vague. But because of that now many speculators believe that the Wight is some sort of monkey. Ridiculous, is what that is."
"Wow, it looks so much like Hyde," Twilight said. "Applejack saw that thing, it must have been."
"Well good luck protecting your food. That's seems to be all it does - I mean did - around here," Bacoltermann said.
"No, stealing food is the least of our problems with it," Twilight explained and held forward Applejack's sketch.
"Who's the pony?" Bacoltermann asked.
"That's a horse. The Wight is clearly too tall to sit on a pony's back," Black Hoof replied.
"Is it now? Well that's interesting. But who's the horse, then?" Bacoltermann asked.
"I don't know," Twilight replied. "But this sketch almost seem to show the horse as having a horn. I'm worried it might even be a unicorn."
"That's just rubbish! Horses don't have unicorns, do they?"
"Well, who knows?" Black Hoof asked.
"Wait a second, Twilight. When did you see that?" Shady Daze asked.
"Oh, just now. I didn't think about it before."
While Twilight and Bacoltermann were busy comparing the quality of each other's artist's work Fluttershy made a discovery.
"What if there is more than one Hyde? I think there may be more!"
Slowly the other ponies' eyes were directed at Fluttershy, none of them attached to a particularly impressed face.
"You. Don't. Say." Twilight was the first to break the silence to say. "That's what Black Hoof here has been saying all along."
"Oh, well, yes. It would make sense for there to be more of any given specimen," Bacoltermann remarked. "I mean Princess Celestia herself is not the only winged unicorn, or alicorn. There's also Princess Luna and Princess Whats-Her-Face."
Bacoltermann carelessly tossed aside the painting before continuing.
"And now I think I should take this moment to give you all the whole scoop. What I proposed to the college after I first saw the Wight was that there could be more to the unknown world that meets the eye. I suggested that ponies and what-have-you were not the only superior species roaming this world building societies for ourselves. There had to be a highly developed exemplar amongst many, if not all, creatures out there. And maybe, just maybe, some were simply out of reach. Crazy, no?"
"Wow, that's quite the proposal," Twilight said.
"Oh, but it gets better. I looked at the maps of the known world and, like so many before me, I noticed how much of the world is, in fact, unexplored. There are so many mysteries behind each horizon, no matter where you look. 'What's behind Canterlot's mountain range?', some of the townsfolk here would ask, 'what's out there over the ocean past the Waterfronts?' some of the citizenry of Canterlot would ask - ahem, short answer you get to the zebras' homeland. The thought just boils in my mind, no?"
"He gets like this if you let him," Black Hoof commented.
"But what if, say, you look beyond your perceived understanding of any given horizon. What you could discover there could almost literally blow your mind. Tell me, young filly, what is beyond the mountain range of Canterlot?" Bacoltermann asked.
"Plains, forests and eventually another town, I guess?" Twilight replied.
"You believe so, well, you are probably right. But have you ever actually been there to see for yourself? No?"
"Well, no."
"Because you never had to. A map will tell you all you care - and I stress the word 'care' - to know. So answer me this, where do the zebras come from, this is an easier question."
"South... right?"
"Yes, of course, anypony with half a brain could guess that by looking at them. They are adapted to the world they came from, and south is a dangerous place so it makes sense to blend in amongst your people to deter enemies. Also they are less... rich in hair which I always been quite envious of. Though that hasn't stopped me from growing this beard."
"I mean it. He will go on forever," Black Hoof chuckled.
"Silence, featherhead! As I was saying: you will know without really knowing unless you study the nature of any given subject. Just like how we perceive cosmos. Who knows really what is right and wrong until we physically fly out there and explore the stars?" Bacoltermann took a moment to breath. "Tell me now, where do the dragons migrate?"
"They fly between south-west and north-east," Twilight answered.
"Umm... yes? Yes, that might be right? Can't remember now. But what few ponies don't know is that the dragons don't actually truly travel in one big group. Its mostly just a coincidence that so many different races of dragons come together. They will eventually part ways at the numerous finish lines and go their own separate ways. And how far do you think some of them could travel?"
"I'm not sure," Twilight admitted.
"What if I told you that some dragons actually swim and live near large bodies of water?"
"Swim? You don't mean..."
"Crossing the vast ocean, travelling north-east. Where would that eventually get them?"
"I... I don't know actually," Twilight confessed.
"Ah ha! Black, fetch me the atlas!"
"Here it is!" Black Hoof said as he lobbed over a large, heavy book.
"See this here," Bacoltermann said as he opened up a relatively late page.
The page detailed a long-spanning mountain range beginning and ending at different corners of the page. At the bottom of the page the text explained that no further exploration of that particular region had been made. Surrounding the range was only ocean, but only on one side, the other was cross-hatched with a small note simply saying: 'the unknown'.
"Nopony has ever been beyond this mountain range, nor has any pony mapped how far it spans. This is the only part of it. And it is almost directly north-east of here," Bacoltermann explained. "Can any of you guess why that is?"
Twilight stood silent trying to come up with a reasonable answer. Fluttershy kept repeating 'um's and 'hmm's to look like she tried to figure out an answer. Shady Daze eventually broke the silence.
"'Cuz there are dragons there?"
"Good, good, this colt is thinking about context here. Must be a journalist," Bacoltermann cheered. "Yes, dragons. Nasty buggers the whole lot."
"Dragons swim over the ocean?" Twilight asked.
"That's the idea. Plenty of fish on the way there. No gem stones. So it figures some dragons don't eat stones," Bacolterman replied. "And of the two boats sailing over there, only one returned. Guess why?"
"The dragon... sunk one of the boats?" Fluttershy guessed.
"Exactly," Bacoltermann said. "Nasty things, dragons. Never quite liked them. Don't understand any pony's fascination with those hubris enthralled lizards."
"Hey, not all dragons are mean and selfish!" Twilight exclaimed.
"Oh, and you know this, no?" Bacoltermann asked and looked over to Black Hoof who returned the glance with a shrug.
"Yes, yes I do. My friend is a dragon and we grew up together. His name is Spike and he's a generous and caring dragon."
"I believe you. Of course, I will then retract that belief the moment his dragon nature becomes apparent. Any greed there? Any outbursts or longing for being, you know, not a pony, no?" Bacoltermann asked.
Twilight did not reply to avoid proving his point.
"Not important," Bacoltermann assured. "What I am saying is this: what if the Wight came from that direction? What if the Wight somehow had ties to that unknown region? Of course, we would not have known of it then."
"But if there are dragons there, how could that work?" Fluttershy asked.
"No, Bacoltermann is actually right. Zecora was telling me about a strange people north-east of Equestria - the horse slavers. And there was even a mention of dragons," Twilight said.
"So maybe, just maybe down either side of that mountain range is your dragon-free zone where... what did you call them?" Bacoltermann asked.
"Horse slavers. They are some bipedal creature that use other animals to work for them," Twilight replied. "Now that I think about it, it does sound pretty awful."
"Well... that's not good," Black Hoof said. "So we are dealing with not one, but maybe two of these Wights who are actually slavers and now - well we are ponies, smaller than horses, but still - what is to say we don't look like good candidates for an extended empire?" Black Hoof tilted his head toward the atlas. "We have technology, geographic know-how, we come in different types. Need I go on?"
"No, don't. Tell me, filly, what exactly did the Wight do in Ponyville?" Bacoltermann asked.
"I don't want to think too negatively of this, especially as I did not get to stay around long enough to know for sure. But one of my friends went missing during an encounter with it, one pony was injured, and another one of my friends, this Applejack I mentioned, she lost her dog to it," Twilight explained.
Black Hoof and Bacoltermann stood dumb with surprise. Their mouths were hanging wide open and their eyes did not blink for a moment.
"Well..." Bacoltermann started. "That sounds like trouble, no."
"Oh, ho ho, for certain. Exactly how did the Wight go from stealing food to killing things?" Black Hoof asked. "And in Ponyville too!"
"I am concerned for all the animals and ponies in Ponyville. But you seem extra concerned about it," Fluttershy said.
"Well, of course! My daughter lives there! She must know that her dad's worried. She must come over here again, clearly it is safer! Or better yet she should move to Canterlot and stay with her mother, that's safe as you get."
"Wait, your daughter? Her name would not be...?" Twilight asked.
"Blue Hoof, a pegasus like her daddy," Black Hoof replied. "She's... she's fine, right?"
Twilight looked to Fluttershy who only eyed at the floor.
"You're not... saying...?"
"Before I left for Trottingham I was told a pegasus with that name had been hospitalised. I don't know anything more than that."
"Well, Manny, Twilight, it was nice meeting you and meeting again. I will be going back to the train station and -"
"No you will not. We have pressing matters here," Bacoltermann interrupted. "First we go to the college, then we figure out our next move."
"But the college already thinks the Wight is just a mare's tale. What will this do?" Black Hoof asked.
"You told me you search went well - very educational, in fact. I trust you have something that will crack this case open."
"I passed by Ponyville today an did not stop because I could 'always visit another day', but now she's in hospital the very same day I pass by. If I can get there... I don't want to risk missing my chance to see her."
"Don't be a pessimist. No pony will gain anything from that. We will do as I say," Bacoltermann said and led the way out.
A clear standing between the two stallions made itself apparent. When Bacoltermann ordered something it was made so. Even if Black Hoof was worried about his daughter he would, begrudgingly, follow Bacoltermann's lead. There was a long-standing silence as the group made their way out of the manor. Twilight gave another glance towards the small room where she had seen the stallion. Now the other guard was in there as well, but she could not hear what they were up to or talking about. However, to change the mind-set of certain ponies Twilight felt every need to ask.
"Bacoltermann?"
"Manny will do."
"Umm... Manny, those ponies... the ones in that room. Who are they? And what is this son-in-law thing Black Hoof mentioned?"
"The stallion's name is Cloud Stride, and I like him better than my own son, not surprisingly - oh, and he's royal guard. The mare's name is Night Lily, also royal guard - Luna's Guard, in case that was not obvious enough. They are getting married this winter so don't get any ideas."
Though not quite the attitude she had expected, at least one pony had changed his thoughts and Bacoltermann even began to smile a little. It seemed he was quite fond of this Cloud Stride and welcomed to think of his good times ahead to come.
As they left the manor and basked in the sunlight even Black Hoof changed his angry face. He looked over to Twilight and gave her a hopeful nod before saying:
"We will only take an hour or so, then we will be well on our way. I'm sure everything's fine."
"Yeah, me too. We have good ponies in Ponyville and we take care of each other," Twilight replied.
Black Hoof smiled.
"Now just to get this completely straight:" Bacoltermann started, "we will make this detour just to check up on what one can expect from the Wight."
"Easy enough," Shady Daze commented.
"I like your spirit, colt," Bacoltermann praised. "Now, pop quiz: name one creature that stands bipedal and possesses digits on their forelimbs instead of hooves. Remember: bipedal."
"Well there are some types of dogs that -" Twilight started.
"Wrong. Dogs have claws."
"Well there was Iron Will, he was a minotaur," Fluttershy said.
"Right you are, missy. Minotaurs are among those bipedals with digits, and benefit from those in the sense that like unicorns they don't need to use their mouths as tools," Bacoltermann said with a sigh, being the earth pony that he was. "Now the Wight as I saw it also possessed them. So it only makes sense he would be apt for tools."
"Well if we are, then of course he should be," Black Hoof remarked. "But rather than going over the obvious, how about we ask the harder questions."
"Well, sure."
"Twilight," Black Hoof started. "You probably have a different perspective that we miss. Any questions from home?"
"Well... Applejack wanted to know about magic in unicorns and if maybe there were horse unicorns. Also if it was possible that the Wight had magic of his own."
"Why are we assuming it is a 'he'?" Shady Daze asked. "It could be a 'her'."
"I will pretend I didn't hear that," Bacoltermann said. "But you are right. If the Wight possesses magic of his own, that would certainly be reason enough for him to use aggression if he saw fit."
"Saw fit?" Twilight asked.
"He took a dog, didn't he? What's to say that wasn't self-defence. A food thief must also look out for their personal health. No?"
Twilight had not thought of that when she first spoke to Applejack about the event. Whether Applejack herself had realised this was not so much as mystery to Twilight as her friend had expressed remorse for her actions during that event.
"That actually makes sense," Black Hoof said, being the first one to step up the pace.
"Oo-h... don't know if I can keep up that pace," Shady Daze whined as he assumed a canter to every other pony's hasty trot.
"Magic is a wonderful thing," Bacoltermann remarked. "Each creature that possesses it uses it in different ways. I remember that Discord catastrophe way-back-when. Weird stuff."
"It reached all the way here?" Fluttershy asked.
"No... not really to that extent, but flying trees in the horizon is hardly a good sign," Bacoltermann replied. "Say, now that I think about it, you two fillies look familiar. Have I seen your faces before."
Twilight and Fluttershy looked at each other before shaking their heads each with their own grin.
"No? I could have sworn... the stained glass... never mind."
"But what magic would this Wight have then?" Black Hoof asked.
"Let's first assume his horse did it. If it was a unicorn then I suppose it would be identical to the unicorn ponies."
"What makes you think that?" Twilight asked, herself the scholar in magic.
"Well consider horses are really just bigger ponies. What could their unicorns differ in?" Bacoltermann asked.
"I don't know. It could be more potent, they could live a different culture and use it differently. Many things, but horses are not just the same as ponies. They are nomadic and we are not," Twilight replied.
"Fair enough. But now let's assume it was the Wight using magic. Any ideas what something like that would want magic for?"
"O-o-oh! Mind control!" Shady Daze suggested. "How cool would that be?"
"Well why not?" Black Hoof replied. "Let's assume they control minds."
"Too simple. Any hypnotist worth their salt could pull that off," Bacoltermann dismissed. "What if it was their immediate reality?"
"This is getting ridiculous," Twilight complained.
The group came to a sudden stop and Shady Daze toppled over from the momentum, nearly cracking his camera lens.
"Now we aren't just speculating magical abilities, we are actually suggesting this Wight rival the power of super-entities!"
"It's funny, isn't it? Most exciting," Bacoltermann chuckled. "I wouldn't be where I am today if I didn't dream of greater things."
They had covered a vast distance and Twilight could only hope they were almost at the college. But a sudden change of circumstance made her doubt her guides.
"Wait, where the bleedin' heck are we?" Black Hoof asked.
"Left over at the bridge, right at the bakery..." Bacoltermann recited. "Down on the alley, and up the stairs."
The two stallions were staring back and forth from each other and into the empty air.
"Are we lost?" Fluttershy asked.
"Of course not. We know exactly where we... are," Black Hoof replied.
Twilight groaned. "Just check a map, or something!"
"Not needed," Bacoltermann said. "We just go back to the bakery and we will..."
"Closed due to road works," Shady Daze said.
"What?"
"This road here is closed for road work, we have to go around."
Fluttershy had made herself scarce and now out of sight but shortly after she peaked out from a corner.
"Hey, you guys, I found a map," She said.
The two stallions lowered their heads and kicked at the cobblestone road. Lost in their home town was hardly befitting.
"You two do go to the college, right?" Twilight asked.
"May have visited," Black Hoof replied.
"On occasion..." Bacoltermann followed.
Twilight tapped herself on the head and growled.
"Let me get this straight: you saw this mysterious Wight of the Waters, you reported it to the college, but you don't actually know where it is?"
Bacoltermann took a moment to reply.
"I mailed them my findings... the curator is a busy stallion."
"But you're knighted! Surely you have had some use of that?"
Black Hoof snickered and rolled his eyes.
"I'll be honest. No, since I was knighted I've only been completely alienated from every pony who knew me. A rise in social rank tends to change your circle of friends, it seems, and I don't fit with the upper classes," Bacoltermann said. "This 'house arrest' thing the ponies in town so often speak of - if you are at all familiar - is something I imposed on myself just to avoid the annoying questions from the commoners and old acquaintances."
Twilight could not believe what she had heard. Bacoltermann had just accused a royal knighting of ruining his social life. To top it off, he was no more than an oblivious old stallion at heart and maybe even a little bit out of his head.
"Let me ask you just this one time, before we do anything else," Twilight started. "If there are any Wights of the Waters, did you actually see one?"
Black Hoof tried to answer but Bacoltermann cleared his throat to signal "Silence".
"Yes. I saw the Wight of the Waters. I sat on the pier and looked out the waters, waiting for The Canterborough to return from its maiden voyage. That is when I saw it," Bacoltermann leaned his head forward. "I know I am just an old stallion to you, but I know what I saw. And I think you want me to be wrong. For your friend's sake."
"I don't recall telling you about Rainbow Dash," Twilight said.
"No, but Black Hoof and I have been friends for a long time, we basically have our own non-verbal language. I am aware of what happened to your friend and what likely her fate would have ended up being."
"This trip to the college," Black Hoof said. "It is to confirm his suspicion."
"Suspicion of what?" Twilight asked.
"If the college has been hiding facts from us."
It had not been too long since the first encounter yet all barriers appeared to have been dispelled. She sat back on the front seat of the wagon admiring, only through her peripherals, the stranger sat beside her. A one-of-a-kind stranger with a strong aura of discipline,devout spirit and star-lit eyes that could severe even the most focused of connections between ponies. More intriguing, still, was the choice of clothes. And assortment of fabrics and knotted belts clad the chest and held a strong back fast in place, thus the stranger did not lean, but sat straight and observed only the road ahead.
Not a word had been exchanged as far as she could tell other than when the stranger had uttered a few foreign words upon their first encounter moments ago where she had almost run him over with her wagon. He had seemingly been left awe-struck at this event where he had examined closely the wagon's means of movement; movement caused by the mares own magic. For this was a special wagon and had no need for a pony to drag it. Not with a unicorn sat atop who knew the come-to-life spell.
What did the stranger do? Being a traveller alone was not a means to an end, so surely there had to be a profession. But how to ask. Momentarily the stranger turned his head to look at her, but did not speak. He nodded and blinked before looking back on the road where he then whispered a relatively long sentence, none of which made any sense to her. Yet somehow it made her think: had she not at some point learnt a spell that temporarily allows two ponies to communicate through distance and beyond language? She seemed to recall it, but not quite sure where from it could have been. Worth a try at least.
As her horn shone up the stranger took a strong interest to the light source and appeared to grin. She leaned in on him and tried the spell.
"What is it you do?" she asked.
The stranger replied in the weirdest manner. Through the clutter that came to her head, most of which consisted of meaningless images and strange faces, words formed as spoken sentences, fragmented and had to be pieced together, each one piece one or more syllables. It was a complicated method, to say the least, but little effort felt needed as some of the pieces came together seemingly on their own. In this text that floated in mid air before here the stranger claimed he was a doctor of equines.
"Fascinating. But why are you travelling on your own?"
Once again the pieces of the response laid themselves before her amidst a cluster of unfamiliar sights and details. When the words came together it said he had been taking a short-cut.
"But that does not answer my question. Where are you going?"
Already the procedure had become a lot easier. Most of the sentence had pieced itself together before she could even identify them. He claimed to seek a place where he was needed, but no location was mentioned.
"What is your name?" she asked.
This time there was no certainty. Amongst the random bits came many words that would not go away. Some could form sentences, others sat well on their own, but some stood out and seemed out of place. "I am a traveller," "I have lost my way," "I have no home," "I live as I walk" were some of the sentences; pilgrim, wanderer, way finder, healer, midwife and doctor were some of the sensible words; hunter, fisher, fanatic and religious stood out as the out of place words. But nowhere did a suitable name come in, until some pieces began to fade. All sentences blurred out along with the strange words leaving only those she deemed suitable.
The first words to fade were way finder and healer, which made some sense. Then followed midwife and wanderer. Doctor and Pilgrim, either one was his name. Doctor seemed the most likely and she was about to say it to confirm, before it too faded.
"Pilgrim...?" she said aloud.
The stranger turned his head in response, gave an attentive stare, before resuming his lookout. Strange that. He had only just told her his name.
Pilgrim, a pony doctor from a foreign land.
"I haven't seen any pony quite like you. Why did you come to Equestria?"
Jumbled in the mass of nonsense the words came forth again. Together the constant pieces formed: "I do not know."
Stranger still. It would be a while before she tried again. This time she refrained from questions.
"My name is Trixie Lulamoon, and I own this wagon, which is part of the Legendary Lore Caravan."
There was no reaction, no response. Nothing. Only clutter formed and faded with no constant patterns. It was as if Pilgrim either did not care, or was oblivious to what may have been said. If questions were the only possible transferable item with this spell, that would explain it.
"Did you know my name was Trixie Lulamoon?" she tried again.
An answer formed: "But so it is no longer."
"Trixie Lulamoon!" she yelled, this time without the aid of her spell. "TRIXIE! TRI-XIE!"
Pilgrim nodded understandingly and repeated "Tree-ksee" without even as much as looking at her. So that much he understood. Trixie's spell could somehow implant a question inside some pony's head, but not a statement. Fascinating, she thought, that she should have known about a spell so useful.
Pilgrim began digging wildly in through his pockets, looking for something he seemingly was not quite sure what it was. He then produced a thick pouch with a cork lid. He popped it open and held it over his mouth and out came water. Trixie had not really laid her eyes on such a water container and wondered what possible material was waterproof as well as malleable like that. She chose, however, not to ask. Perhaps a perpetual silence was the best form of communication at this time.
On occasion Pilgrim would produce an item of intrigue and inspect it briefly, every time Trixie would throw her eyes as inconspicuously as possible in his direction to see what he was up to. Easy enough, being a pony, considering what a good peripheral vision they had - especially when compared to the likes of dragons and dogs; which was not something Trixie would usually be thinking about, so something was definitely up. Nonetheless, most of the items appeared useless or inapplicable in any way Trixie could fathom at this point, but to Pilgrim, surely, each one had its own use and he no doubt treasured each peace dearly.
It was then something special caught her attention, enough so to make her break subtlety: assorted feathers tied to a silvery bracket. Trixie could have sworn Pilgrim was smiling when he gazed upon this particular piece. In fact, that bracket had been hanging from his shoulder all this time, but she had paid it no mind. Where did those feathers come from? Trixie wanted to know.
"Where are they from?" Trixie asked as she trained her spell at Pilgrim once again.
Much more vividly than before, now static images accompanied the words displaying in her mind. A slightly damaged feather, orange in colour, with deep red stripes on one side became joint with the words 'red rooster', likely a rare sight in his home. Another feather, urban brown with grey highlights was paired with the word 'hippogriff', though Trixie was not familiar with any creature with that name. A long, majestic sapphire blue and emerald green feather with a beautiful frilled crown at its top coupled with the word 'peacock'. The fourth feather, brilliant gold with brown spots bore its name 'woman bird'.
It was a beautiful collection very much suited to hang on a wall, though that was not a possibility, clearly. Each feather seemed to have a story to tell, especially the first one, the damaged one. Did Pilgrim lament this? Was the damage something of his own doing, or had, perhaps, some other pony tampered with his possession and now he felt more secure carrying it with him? She did not ask.
Then a final feather came up, and this one did not seem to bring a smile to Pilgrim's face. Blue as the sky itself but poorly kept. This would perhaps have been his oldest feather, judging by its state. However, no matter how many words appeared before that feather, none ever stayed for long enough to read. The feather simply had no owner.
"Where did you get that feather?" Trixie asked.
No reply. Pilgrim hung the bracket back up on his shoulder and resumed his usual nothings. He did not produce any more items for quite some time. He simply sat there, content with the world.
"I know you said you didn't know before... but, if I may ask: do you have any plans?" Trixie tried.
Pilgrim did not reply, but merely looked over to her with a pulled lip. After a brief moment he sighed and looked away again. Trixie then realised she had forgotten to use that spell.
Strange it was. Strange that Pilgrim seemed apprehensive or confused when Trixie spoke, but when she used her spell to ask her questions there was clarity. Perhaps Pilgrim did not know when he was being subjected to the spell. Perhaps he did not know he was made to answer questions. Was Trixie, in fact, prying information out of her hitch hiker without him being able to stop it? Now that was interesting food for thought. Though clearly of questionable morality, such a spell would to be greatly useful.
Trixie let out a cocky laugh. For a long while now she had remained a character of strong humility since being humbled so long ago. To think that having this advantage could be used for so much.
That thought had to wait for a while though. Just up ahead on the long road laid a filly on the road side. Trixie, curious, decided to stop the wagon and question the stranger.
"Are you lost, miss?" she asked.
"Oh, hello there. Em... no, not lost, actually, just tired," the filly replied.
"Why are you here alone?"
"I was on my way to Manehattan, but I really could not afford the transport. So I am trying to hoof it."
"Well... um," Trixie started and turned to Pilgrim. She activated the spell and asked him: "We're going to Manehattan. Would you mind another passenger?"
One word. One word appeared: 'Indifferent'
"If you don't mind a tight squeeze I do have room in the wagon," Trixie said. "Hop aboard...?"
Despite making all effort to give room for her new passenger, climbing down from her seat and getting a good look at Pilgrim's doings, it would take Trixie a while to actually realise that the 'indifference' had all diminished.
"Hey, mind where you're looking, mister!" Trixie scolded.
Pilgrim cocked his head at the accusation but, as the filly had disappeared behind the wagon door, he shook his head and once again resumed the same void-gazing he had engrossed so well in. Coupled, of course, with the fact that he probably had no idea what Trixie had said to him. That language barrier was an increasingly annoying element.
"You never told me your-"
"Coco Sweet. My name is Coco Sweet," the filly interrupted.
"Cute name, Coco Sweet. So you're going to Manehattan? What are you doing there?" Trixie asked. "Oh, and don't mind that mister over there. He's a little strange, I know, but I think he's got a good enough heart."
"Really..." Coco Sweet agreed. "I was going to stay over with a friend of mine there. We have a big project for ourselves and I thought it'd be better if we worked on it together."
"That's thoughtful of you," Trixie praised. "I always wanted to try out the team action... but I am a solo artist at heart, I think."
"What is it you do?" Coco Sweet asked. "I see a lot of props here."
"This is the Legendary Lore Caravan. One of many travelling shows teaching history, ponylore and geography. It was a governmental campaign that I signed up for, so I get to continue my showmareship pursuit, but with a bigger pay check at the end of the month," Trixie boasted.
"Wow, sounds great!"
"Oh, but you need stage presence. No pony wants to look at an arrogant loud-mouth for long, so it is important to know how to appeal to the crowd."
"That... makes sense."
"I'm making my next stop in Manehattan, so you can see it there."
"Does he... you know... talk?" Coco Sweet asked.
"Him? Not in our language. He's a foreigner."
"So how do you know him?"
"Well..." Trixie started, but was unsure how to continue. "... sometimes you meet somepony... and you don't know why... or how... but you just feel that things will work. And even if you don't communicate much... you..."
Trixie took a long pause. She did not, however, take that time to think about what she had already said. Looking at Pilgrim and his vast archive of memorabilia and intriguing, albeit criminal in the world of fashion, choice of clothing, Trixie had a strong feeling of compatibility. Perhaps they would make a team. There was a strange connection.
"... you just know that, whatever happens, even if you're apart... you will know that she needs you and you come for her. Help her with her job. Help her with her struggles. And above all know what she wants, and needs."
Now Trixie slapped herself over the head, figuratively, after realising she had precisely described the feeling of love. Most certainly not what she was feeling toward Pilgrim. But a comforted sigh from within the wagon made all that misleading banter feel appropriate.
"That's so romantic!" Coco Sweet said with a giggle. "Oh, how I wish he will be like that one day."
"He he, well he should. You're coming all the way from..."
"Trottingham."
"What!?" Trottingham? Coco, dear, you do realise I picked you up - not between Trottingham and Manehattan - between Canterlot and Trottingham? You have been going the completely wrong direction for... how long?!"
"Just about a day and a half...?"
Trixie threw herself up and leant in on the door, looking in through the window.
"No... just, no!" Trixie scolded. "Are you insane? I understand not affording transport, but I just know you must have had smarter alternatives; if only to have brought a map!"
"I don't know how to read those," Coco Sweet confessed.
"Girl! Girl, listen to me now," Trixie started and drew breath. "There is a distinct line between resourceful, and plain simple. A simpleton must be resourceful, a pony of means will be simple. I have this wagon that I pull with magic, so I can be simple. You, you have no money for the train? Hitch a ride from somepony who goes where you're going! Be brave about that. That is being resourceful!"
"But how could I be sure that wouldn't be dangerous?"
"Dangerous? Have you been in Trottingham? That's the loveliest bunch of ponies I have ever had the pleasure to share company with! Yes, yes I would trust a Trottinghammer to safely take me to another city. I would not, however, hoof it under any circumstance. What of the exposure to the elements? What if it rained? How would you handle the long daylight heat?"
"I didn't think about-"
"No, no you didn't! But you're safe now. We're here for you," Trixie reassured with an angry tone. "No doubt you're thirsty, take some water from the tap. We will be in Manehattan by late evening."
"Thank you. Um..."
"Trixie. Trixie will do."
Pilgrim cackled at something Trixie knew not what, but after that there was a long period of silence again.
Above the wagon Trixie spotted a pegasus flying, dragging a cloud. A dark cloud. Then followed was another, and another, and suddenly a cluster of dark clouds following. And those clouds were going in the exact same direction as Trixie.
"Oh, horseshoes! We have rain scheduled on this road," Trixie complained. "How are in there, filly?"
"Good, good. Not as cramped as you made it out to be," Coco Sweet replied with a sweet tone. "Can I ask you something?"
"But of course, miss."
"How long have you two been together. I mean, not because I'm worried or anything, but... you seem to work it out despite your, um, language problem."
Trixie choked on her own saliva.
"Oh, no! I don't have a... this is not my special somepony. He's..." Trixie deflected. Though a quick look at Pilgrim stopped her. "We're not... I don't think you could..."
Something seemed to itch at the back of her head, and she knew not what. Yes, Pilgrim was a complete stranger, yes, she was as interested in him as a patch of dirt, and yes, they had met only so much as a few hours ago. And those hours had been spent either doing nothing, or probing information out of his mind with magic.
"Okay, I am looking at my position here..." Trixie tried. "... what I said before came out of nowhere, and it was not something I would have said. This is Pilgrim, that's his name, we met today like I did you, and we do not speak the same language. With me so far?"
"Uh, I think so."
"Uh... oh, um. As much as I try, I cannot, for some reason, make the words out. No, not romantically involved, no... I will leave it at that, until I find the words," Trixie finished.
Something about Trixie first encounter with Pilgrim had begun to grate on her mind. What exactly happened back there, when they first met?
"Oh, well. He's probably a little too... strange anyway, right? I mean, he's not a unicorn, and I'm thinking you would prefer that," Coco Sweet suggested.
"Sure, sure, why not?"
Pilgrim stood up hastily and leaned forward. Something had been caught in his eye and he was scoping it out. He snarled and assumed an angry stance. This did not bode well.
"AJ, there you are!" Granny Smith cheered as Applejack came running through the gates.
"Granny!" Applejack called, panting heavily. "You seen Apple Bloom around?"
"Oh, little Apple Bloom went to Sweetie Belle's house to play. But I have somethin' to show you, especially."
"Oh, good. Then she's fine..." Applejack sighed with relief. "What was it you wanted to show me?"
Granny Smith chuckled.
"Oh, I think you will like this one," G ranny Smith assured. "When that miss Zecora stopped by she had a most interesting friend with her."
"Zecora? Well who was it?" Applejack asked.
Granny Smith slowly got off her chair and made her way to the barn. Her bones creaking like rusty hinges.
"In the barn?"
"No, no, no. Over there in the south fields. Big Mac is already givin' her the rights and lefts of the orchard. Be a doll and welcome our new farm hoof."
"Hang on a second there, Granny. Are you sayin' you employed a pony to work the farm with us? We were doing just fine; we don't need a farm hoof."
"Nope..." Granny Smith replied.
"Nope?"
"... not a pony," Granny Smith said as she began to, very slowly, make her way back to her chair.
Applejack cocked her head and thought for herself. At least she could greet this stranger and be civilised. As she began to trot through the orchard to where Big Macintosh might be found , Applejack considered the pros and cons of having an extra farm hoof. Money was not an issue, not really. Sure they had to work hard and sell cider for the winter, and that would be an easier chore with extra hooves - hooves easily lent from her friends, however. Another positive would mean Applejack and Big Macintosh could find more free time – and Big Macintosh could use all the time he could get now that he was courting Cheerilee; however that was only really so long as the employee was good, or she might find herself with a new job as a supervisor. And that would be a real bummer.
"How bad could it possibly be? I mean, I wouldn't have to bother any of my friends and take their time. Besides..." Applejack said to herself. She paused before finishing her rhetorical conversation with: "... not like any of us have any young'uns to pass the farm to."
In the distance Applejack could hear the distinct sound of apple bucking. Judging by the intensity of the sound and the tremor it made on the ground it was Big Macintosh doing the bucking. Not that there were a whole lot of options. Some of the trees had already been bucked with the apples well gathered in baskets and left for collection. A reassuring sight if the new employee was also helping out. Applejack wondered for a moment if Granny Smith had not said it was a 'she', and not a pony - a zebra gal friend of Zecora's, perhaps? That thought had to wait.
On one of the bucked trees, Applejack noticed, a horseshoe was burrowed firmly into the bark. The shoe itself was marginally bigger than Applejack's hoof, but smaller than Big Macintosh's. But more importantly, it was rooted deep in the bark of the tree and despite her best attempts, Applejack simply could not dislodge the shoe from the tree.
"Who the hay did that?" Applejack asked herself.
When she finally gave up and continued following the bucking sounds the answer became clear.
"Big Mac! What the hay are you doing? Is that a horse?!"
Big Macintosh looked at Applejack with a confused look. Next to him stood a horse, very much missing a horseshoe, observing his hoof work.
"Uuh..." Big Macintosh started. "This is, uh..."
"When the zebra told me I might find a place to stay here I anticipated having to work," t he horse said. "But, though apples I am familiar with, I have never quite witnessed kicking the trees being a method for plucking the fruit."
"What? No, no - brother, there is a horse right next to you. Are you not the least bit suspicious about that?"
Before her brother had the chance to reply the horse stepped in again.
"I am aware of what happened here, and I will accept that my presence bring ill feelings upon your family. That said, I was assured my staying would not be a problem," the horse said and briefly glanced over to Big Macintosh. "There is a problem, I presume."
The horse's voice was altered by the bit it wore, reminiscent of the branch bit Applejack had fashioned for Rainbow Dash back before Zecora was introduced to them as friendly. It had not exactly confessed to any connection with yesterday's incident but appeared sympathetic to the damages.
"I assure you, miss Applejack, I understand loss intimately," the horse said with a calm tone. "And I will remain sensitive."
"Um... well, I saw a little hiccup back there with a tree," Applejack said, trying to distract the topic of yesterday.
Big Macintosh could not hold in a weak chuckle.
"I kick too hard, apparently," the horse informed.
"Well, that is one stuck horseshoe. Had problem gettin' it out. "
"By all means, allow me," the horse said and made her way for the tree. "Now, I hope you don't mind the dent."
With a quick jerk the horse tugged her shoe out from the tree and spat it out on the ground.
"You will forgive me if I do not have much use for it," the horse said, turned around and showed Applejack her shoeless hoof.
"As you will see, that horseshoe was nailed to my hoof, so I will not be able to simply put it back on."
The horse's hoof had a multitude of holes from thin nails. The first thought on Applejack's mind was "Does it hurt?" but then the next question was "How did you get them on in the first place?" before finally: "Who put in on you?" However, Applejack chose not to question the horse.
"We haven't got much day left for instructions, sis," Big Macintosh said. "I already went through the basics."
"Good point, brother. If you would, this way to the barn. Miss...?"
The horse did not reply, but merely stood there waiting for Applejack to make the first move.
"Well, this way. If you follow me."
Suspicion versus evidence was a lesson Applejack had learnt the hard way. If Zecora brought the horse here, maybe it was not as bad as it seemed. Applejack owed Zecora that much trust anyway. As the two were returning to the barn, Applejack had the urge to get to know the horse better.
"So you heard about yesterday, did you?"
"Foulness in the air, that is what I feel," the horse replied. "I have no love for dogs, but to lose a friend..."
"You said you know loss. I won't ask you to tell me about it."
"I know why my friends met their ends. I have come to terms with that certainty. You lost your friend to confusion and chaos. Such is not the way to end."
"No... no it ain't, I reckon," Applejack sighed. "I feel responsible for it, too. I could have avoided this whole thing if I didn't let her go like that."
"One cannot blame oneself. It is only in inaction that fault can be truly placed."
"Well I wasn't exactly doin' the right thing. Egging on my dog to fight something I couldn't even see."
"A dog would sacrifice itself for less. The world is lesser for your loss, to be sure. But take heart, for the next guardian in your life shall aspire to have half as much devotion."
Applejack stopped suddenly. Was she actually getting close with a horse she had yet to stop suspecting? Knowing fully well that horses are a r are enough sight as it is, should she be so quick to assume the best from the first horse to show up after losing her dog to one?
"I appreciate the sentiment, I do. But I'm havin' trouble lookin' at the bright side of losing a friend of many years."
"You have not seen much despair, then. I understand, and I respect that. But if even a little to help you come to terms with your own loss, I feel the need to share my own experience."
Applejack liked looking out for her friends, but had a serious problem with asking for their help. Now a horse, who had yet to introduce herself, was trying to pass on grief counselling without being asked for it. It became a little too much to bear for Applejack who nearly lashed out.
"Just to get one thing straight here, missy. I can deal with my own problems, and I need no pony to tell me how to deal with the dead - if that is what you were trying to do. Stop talking about grief! Okay?"
The horse turned her head to a tilt and smirked.
"I am not a pony," the horse replied.
"Really? That's what you got? You haven't told me your name yet, and you're thinkin' that I need your help?!"
"Pathfinder. My name is Pathfinder."
"What?" Applejack asked.
"My name is Pathfinder, for the lost so need one."
"Huh?"
"'And should I lose my way, you will guide me, and at the end I shall reclaim my memories' he asked of me," P athfinder said.
"Who asked of you?"
With a weak laugh and swaying coyly in with the breeze the horse looked right through Applejack.
"I have lost more than friends. Enemies, companions, family; each one before my eyes, each time helpless to stop it; each time where I only stared and did nothing to stop it," Pathfinder said.
Applejack cleared her throat and stared at the horse.
"Foals, yearlings, colts and fillies, stallions and mares; warriors and civilians, beasts and reptiles; none of these have I not witnessed be put to death. I have never been allowed to be truly young, as I have learnt to grow up before my time. And many I knew never even had that chance to grow as I did," Pathfinder asserted. "Applejack, if I cannot tell you, no one can."
"But I'm not you!" Applejack deflected. "I had a good life until now!"
"I will say this to you now, and listen well," Pathfinder said as she walked up close to Applejack. "You lost a dog yesterday. Today I was once again reminded of how life is confined within a thin thread, a thread strong enough to choke, fragile enough to snap under weight; I walk not so lightly as you think, but treasure every breath I can, and I r elished every moment I had with my guardian. He and I did not part easily. But I will not, dare not, let a single moment waste in petty grief."
"So if you had a friend here with you, why'd you leave 'im?" Applejack asked angrily.
"Because your striped friend killed him." Pathfinder whispered.
Zecora, killing somepony? That made no sense at all. Was that right? Pathfinder just said that Zecora killed her friend today and brought her to the doorsteps of Sweet Apple Acres. That had to be a lie.
"No, not Zecora. She ain't a murderer!" Applejack yelled. "You're lying!"
"When next you see her, tell her this: 'life was meant to be simple'. You are sure to find the truth in her reaction."
"Well ain't that a kick in the head..." Applejack sighed. "... I can't believe she would be able to do such a thing."
"Do not let life burden you, Applejack; else the greatest treasure will be lost to you."
Big Macintosh appeared before them carrying on his back three baskets of apples.
"Figured you two be by the barn now," h e said. "If buckin' trees ain't her thing, I have another idea."
Applejack was quick to mask her previous conversation and tried to make the outburst seem nothing more than an interview.
"You're not familiar with buckin' apples, which makes it unlikely at all you'd know how to bring 'em back and forth. But we do have other places in need of raw strength," Applejack said in jest. "Ever pulled a harvester?"
Pathfinder briefly glanced over herself, drawing attention to all the personal effects hanging over her. Saddle, bags and assorted satchels, wooden parts, metal parts, strap parts, and lots of other parts Applejack actually had no idea what they may be used for. There was an uncertainty in what the answer Pathfinder would have had in mind, but when a positive smile emerged Applejack was almost sure it was 'yes'.
"Never, but if I am to compare to you, you will find me most adequate," Pathinder finally replied.
Big Macintosh froze briefly, shook his head and continued.
"Try not to be so... pre-emptively confident around here," Applejack whispered. "This is a life-style for us, not a job."
Applejack led Pathfinder into the barn where Big Macintosh had already dumped the first batch of apples. He had also already left to collect the rest.
"Your brother has got a great balance. Must be hard to carry a load like that on the back," Pathfinder said.
"You learn, you learn," Applejack said. "Now, what's first...? Would you perhaps take off your belongings?"
"I'm afraid that will not be possible without aid."
"What do you mean?"
"Not me, someone else would have fastened my saddle. I cannot reach the buckle."
Applejack walked over to examine the full ensemble. The bags and satchels came off easily enough and she hastily chucked them aside.
"Careful with those," Pathfinder urged. "The contents may me fragile."
"What does a horse pack that breaks from a small fall?" Applejack asked herself as she moved on to loosen the saddle. "I must say: I don't see many saddles of this make. Not that I look a whole lot at saddles, mind. But this is a really thick and practical saddle, I'm sure. Some home fashion?"
"No, not fashion. Utility," Pathfinder replied. "Your master would sit on it while riding you."
"Riding - what now?" Applejack asked, suddenly reminded of the Diamond Dogs. "Why would you let anypony ride on your back?"
"Not a pony, they are the children of-... I can't describe if you never seen one," Pathfinder tried.
"Do I even want to?"
"You seem content enough with life as is. I should think not."
Applejack grabbed hold of the final bags surrounding the saddle, but as she lifted them they revealed themselves to be extremely heavy and knocked with metallic sounds. Struggling just to lift the bags, Applejack hastily pushed herself from Pathfinder and let the bags fall to the floor with a loud bang and scramble. Pathfinder did not appear bothered by the mistreatment of those bags, however.
"Sheesh! What's in those bags?" Applejack asked.
"Nothing of value to me, but it be best they remain," Pathfinder replied.
As Applejack finally managed to find the buckles to the core parts of Pathfinder's equipment she was embarrassed to learn how intimately close down she had to go to loosen them. She opened it up and a disappointing lack of consequence followed.
"So how does this come off now?" Applejack asked. "I mean, really, why not use Velcro or elastic bands?"
"I have never heard of those."
"Well, basically, they make this whole thing more practical. Do you need to wear this all the time normally?"
"Not all the time. I would only have worn this when, like I was then, travelling. Sad to see them go so soon."
"So I can just leave this aside for now?"
"I foresee no future use for them. I do not know their purpose fully."
"Ever wanted to sneak a peek?" Applejack asked with a new, friendlier curiosity.
"Often, but I know of what I might find, and how dangerous it may be."
"Why, it can't be all bad. Must be somethin' - oh, look!" Applejack exclaimed and produced a pouch. "What have we here?"
"That would be my meal rations."
Applejack opened the pouch a stared at the content.
"Not a very interestin' snack. What is this? Oat, berries, herbs... white powdery somethin'."
"It compares well to hay and the field grass," Pathfinder said. "And in water it flourishes with rich texture."
Applejack was tempted to try a bite, but decided against it. Now in her barest, Pathfinder revealed herself to be a strong horse indeed. The definition of the muscles were clear and her deep brown coat was well kept even after being tucked under tightened raiment. If Applejack knew anything about horse standards, then she'd guess Pathfinder was a good catch.
"Say, um, what'cha doin' for a livin' anyway? I mean, before you came here," Applejack asked. "I mean, if you don't mind me sayin', you've got quite the body there."
Hesitantly Pathfinder replied; "Training every day. Running, learning obedience, carrying loads. And above all else, looking to suit my late master's needs."
"What? Training for what?"
"Horses are nomadic in the wild, and there we find enemies. We grew wise to find allies who saw us for what we were capable of," Pathfinder said. "In short, I am little more than a living tool, should my owner hold no further sentiment for me. Not a glorious life, I admit, but an easy one."
Applejack went right back to think about her talk with Twilight. It was not a killer before her, just a horse with some serious problems; amongst them self-respect. And once again, she was talking about how easy life should be.
"So, you could have left if you wanted to?"
"I would not trade it for a new life," Pathfinder replied. "And in another life I should wish to live it the same."
"Oh sheesh. I mean no disrespect, but I can't for my life understand why you'd say that. To live under obligations to another seems terribly harsh."
"And you live in an orchard."
"I do."
"And you work it."
"I... do..."
"And should you stop."
"Listen, if I felt I had to leave, I could. But I've seen the world out there, and here is home. I even tried being a fancy lady in the big city," Applejack explained. "But this is home, and here I like it."
"Applejack, I admire your adventurous spirit. However, I would not have had the opportunity. Besides predators and... others of my late master's kind... there are only the wild horses to turn to. They are terribly unfriendly, and I would hold less value amongst them."
"How do you know that? Did you see them?" Applejack asked.
"Amongst the horses in my circle, I, of few, was bred. The rest were captured from the wilds; an idea that wild horses made better outdoor mounts."
More questions arose as each one was answered and Applejack was trying to figure out which one to ask first.
"Bred? You know that is what one does to, you know, smaller animals, like dogs and cats."
"Perhaps here, but I have another home. A wild horse is weak, thin and dumb. A bred horse of my pedigree would have been strong, bold and - my late master would say, most important - intelligent enough to learn. It is from that I know language. Few of my wild-born kin were apt enough, and so they were silent."
"Wow... that sounds... terrible."
"It was," Pathfinder sighed.
"Uh, well... let's get you to the field and see if you can't pull a harvester. Got plenty of crop to gather before fall."
Applejack had decided to leave the topic alone for the remainder of the day. Out on the field Pathfinder proved herself quite the asset, which should not have come as much of a surprise, being a horse. As evening arose and dinner had been served Applejack made her early excuses and headed back to Ponyville to find her sister; leaving Granny Smith and Big Macintosh to riddle the thorny details on where to house their new worker.
Certainly a new worker would be of use. But even now Applejack wanted to know what came of the Wight, and why a horse all of a sudden shows up without her 'master'. It was wrong, completely wrong, but there was not enough evidence to appoint blame.
Far out in the crevices of a mountain the two dogs arrived at their headquarters at late evening. None of them were very eager to hand in the latest reports to their leader, but hiding the truth was not an option. They had tried to come up with plausible scenarios on how the event from earlier might have transpired, but they a lways fell short on explaining how a highly skilled and reputable bandit would ever slip and fall off a cliff. The death of the leader's brother-in-law would be a hard one to play down, but these two spotters, Itch and Tick, were hoping revenge would be the last thing o n their leader's mind. By an otherwise inconspicuous mountain wall the dogs were met by a guard keeping a close watch on the surroundings.
"There are only two of you. Explain yourselves," the guard demanded.
"Well there was this incident," Itch started.
"And then there was this accident," Tick finished.
"Tell it to the boss!" the guard ordered. "I don't want to hear your stories."
"Fine, we'll just do that," Tick assured. "Phew, I thought I would blow it there," h e whispered to I tch.
The dogs crawled in through a tunnel in an indentation on the wall and entered an underground passage. This was the hideout of the Highway Dogs, an infamous band of bandits known for their notoriously good escape plans. Their successful raids were many and, when they failed, they were never caught. In a hiding place like this ; where a pony could not possibly fit through their tunnels, the relatively low risk of persisted pursuit would always result in a successful manoeuvre. Best of all, authorities had yet to find out where this hideout was actually located.
"I want to go over this again," Tick said. "We agreed that we failed a raid on a banker's carriage and we separated. I followed Scratch into the forest where we came to a dead end - the cliff - but Scratch was too slow to notice the cliff and fell to his untimely demise."
"No, that's not at all how it went!" Itch exclaimed. "We completely failed the raid on a heavily guarded banker's carriage and we separated. You followed Scratch into a very dense forest where you came to a dead end - the cliff - but Scratch was too slow to notice and fell to his untimely, unpreventable demise - details like these are important! Do you want anyone to be able to question the legitimacy of your testimony?"
"No...?"
"Exactly, so make the story sound concrete! Don't say forest, say dense forest so that no one will think that it would not have affected him," Itch growled. "You should know this by now, after all the times we’ve had to lie to cover up our mistakes!"
"What mistakes?" asked a hissing voice.
"Oh, Brawler, pleasant surprise!" Tick lied. "Well, we have a major problem and we must tell the boss right away!"
"Care to fill me in on the details?" Brawler asked.
"No, we have no time and the boss must know now!" Itch growled. "Stick to the story so you don't forget," h e whispered to Tick and pulled him through the passage.
"Well I can always hear it from you later," Brawler reassured himself. "Or maybe I will hear it when you tell the boss why his brother-in-law is missing."
The spotters stopped dead in their track. Brawler was on to them faster than they would have anticipated. Brawler was a smart dog, perhaps too smart, and he was always spying on his comrades. They turned to face their inquisitor with terror on their faces.
"Oh, I just read the whole story on your faces," Brawler laughed. "Now I just need to hear you say it."
Brawler headed down the passage ahead of the two spotters laughing uncontrollably. This did not bode well for the spotters, not if Brawler was planning on ratting them out. But they had to stick to their story as best they could.
"You ready?" Itch asked.
"Yeah... I'm ready."
They ran down the tunnels and arrived at the headquarters. Everything in sight was a testament to their gang's success. There were no dead wood in sight, only rich oak, mahogany and ebony all brushed to perfection with finish; put together to form luxurious huts. The windows were glass and curtains were hanging neatly off their hangers. They even had a proper non-fire lighting going along the ceiling emulating a starry night sky. If the dogs were only more finely dressed, any pony would think this a theme park or an upper class, underground village.
"Well it's good to be back," Tick sighed with relief.
"Just don't forget the story!" Itch hissed. "You know what the boss does to bad liars! Now come on before he begins to miss us."
They hurried up along the walkway suspended over the houses floating on the underground lake. The cavern was massive enough to throw rocks without ever touching the ceiling, and the water was almost clear enough to drink straight out. When they came up on the other side the spotters were greeted by Brawler who was smiling gleefully. He pointed down to the floating houses and beckoned them closer.
"If I am not mistaken, I would say that bitch over there is your mother," Brawler said mockingly. "With a face like that, I will bet whatever story you have to tell, you could not possibly tell her."
Itch looked back and noticed a wizened older dog sitting with her paws in the water. Much right, it was his mother - so old now she could barely smell or hear anything and was almost as blind as a bat. Itch was proud of his family and would not let Brawler get the better of him with petty insults and insinuations.
"Come to think of it, she would be wise to disown you if I am right in thinking Scratch is dead," Brawler taunted.
Tick growled but Itch pushed him back.
"I haven't said a word to him, he doesn't even know you've returned. Now put on a good show," Brawler chuckled.
"You're a bad, bad dog," Tick said and spat on the ground.
The spotters entered their leader's quarters armed with a made up story to omit the truth behind their comrade's death. The quarters stood empty, no sign of life being in there, or having been in there at all. All pillows had been fluffed, all blankets stretched out. No plates left out and no signs of snooping about.
"I don't think he's here," Itch remarked.
"Should we just go?" Tick asked.
The spotters turned to leave, but as they approached the entrance an ominous aura surrounded the room. Candles flickered and the air became infested with unsettling pheromones.
"And where, exactly, do you think you are going after invading my quarters?" a deep and damaged voice asked.
The dogs turned slowly to face their leader. A relatively short dog by traditional standard, not because of his height, but because of his habit of always keeping his four paws on the ground. Their leader had an intimidating posture and a face that screamed 'danger' to all onlookers. He wore the regalia fit for a king that boasted loudly about his enterprise. No honest money could have clad an individual like this; surely the Prince Blueblood himself would be envious.
"Well... we have a problem," Itch explained, falling short on words at that point.
"Then leave, I shall speak to him instead," the leader ordered and sent Itch out.
Outside the quarters, deaf to any activity, Itch was left with only Brawler as a talking partner. Not a welcome situation, but he had no place else to be.
"So what really happened?" Brawler asked. "I know it was not an accident, I just don't know who did him in."
Itch was hesitant to respond. After a brief moment of thinking he felt safest just telling the truth.
"It was an outlander, no doubt. I have never seen a pony that large, and nopony would be that big unless they were Princess Celestia herself," Itch explained.
"And I take it that was not the case," Brawler wondered. "Am I right, little Itchy?"
"Well, of course not. However, strangely enough, that pony was carrying on it what best was described as an armoury."
"You're joking."
"No, not at all. It was very scary and really, really secret."
"And it killed Scratch?"
"Go figure," Itch coughed, omitting the griffon-like creature that had sat on its back.
"And why did you not bring back the body?" Brawler asked.
Itch did not respond and only shrugged. He was being partial with the truth and lies, but he was not going to let that detail fall into the mix.
"Well I suggest you hurry back inside before the boss chokes the last speck of life out of your friend," Brawler suggested and sat down.
"What?" Itch yelled and darted into their leader's quarters.
On the floor a gasping dog cried for mercy. The leaders' paws were fixed, curved, just the perfect form to strangle with, but he had not taken a life yet.
"Okay, okay, I confess we made the mistake," Itch cried. "We didn't lose Scratch to an accident. He was killed by our mark. It was Scratch's idea and he was the one who attacked when us two had second thoughts."
The leader spat at the second spotter, not satisfied with the lack of detail or follow up. Though a dog who spoke few words, he was not inept at passing over his will through body language; and he wanted to know more.
Having just regained control of his breathing the second spotter began to speak. "When I saw the mark I had intention of attacking it. I called over my friend because I could not identify the race of the creature, but then Scratch came in and ordered the attack," h e paused for breath. "But we knew quickly what a bad idea that was but Scratch jumped at it anyway and was killed for it."
"And what are you going to do about it?" the leader finally asked. "How will I be made content? How will I earn my satisfaction?"
"Boss?" Itch asked.
"When will I have my revenge?"
The one thing they were trying to avoid had come to pass. The two spotters would now have to track down their adversary and take it out.
"My brother, murdered in cold blood by some road riding vigilante, thinking himself superior? I want him gone before an even bigger mess comes of it!"
"But it was not cold-" Itch tried.
"GET OUT! GET OUT NOW AND FIND THAT FIEND AND BRING HIM TO ME!"
---
Plucking each string with new learning it was as if an age long forgotten had killed Valkon's talent for music. The lute did not tune correctly and he could not keep his fingers firmly on the chords; each stroke resonated as much harmony as a rod swiping over fishing net; almost as musical, only without the fear of getting a hook stuck under your skin.
Valkon was under house arrest and had not been able to leave the Waterfronts. A rough fifteen cycles had passed since his return and neither sour dough bread nor a decent honey wine had been served. It was the same usual bad water from the barrel and slab of meat pulled from the pan before it was thoroughly cooked. Unfortunately for Valkon, his adventure in no-wer's land had lost him his appetite for meat in its entirety. He longed for the succulence of a ripe fig or perhaps even a bowl of berries, but such boons were not on the table.
"Stop that abominable racket!" the warden outside ordered as he banged on the door.
Valkon laid aside the lute and looked out the window. The sky was clear as it had always been. The trees were blueish and the sun could only skirt along the mountain range.
"This is home, and I have missed it so," Valkon thought to himself.
Down on the street below an angry fishmonger chased of a bothersome young trying to steal a fish; likely it was homeless. Otherwise the street was empty, which was not an unwelcome sight. Most children would be enjoying dinner at this time of day. But what of Valkon's family? When he had first departed his brother and father were not on the highest of notes, so it would be interesting to see how they had developed.
There on came the terror. For the last few cycles Valkon had been repeatedly assaulted by justiciars burning with anger for the death of no less than eight nobles. For a split second Valkon could feel the hand of wrath stroke through his hair just before a violent shove drove his face into the wall.
"You have to understand why that pleased me," the justiciar said.
"I like to think I do not," Valkon replied sarcastically.
"You will exercise good manners in my midst. I am not a common justiciar."
Valkon turned around as he scratched his forehead. Before him was not the usual justiciars looking for a face to bruise, no this time it was the enforcer himself.
"I owe great honour to this occasion," Valkon remarked. "It must be then that I finally am relieved of custody."
"Not so, my enthusiastic trouble maker," the enforcer said and sneered. "You see, we have an issue with you and we need a few clarifications."
"You want answers, I understand."
"I will not go so far as to ask you questions. I am not easy to manipulate," the enforcer asserted. "But you will find I can be very persuasive."
"And I can lie," Valkon challenged.
"So we have a mutual dislike of one another," the enforcer joked. "The only difference is I will not pervert the law to be snide."
"It is a redundant construct. You cannot be lied to, you cannot lie," Valkon started, "and yet it took the Patriarchal Circle to come to the decision that lying should be outlawed."
"It is a sour, mostly unenforceable law, but I bow to the common will."
"But now you surely will want to know about the loather," Valkon suggested.
"Yes, I believe it is time you told me why you thought to trade vessel with a loather. I trust you are aware of what consequences you wrought from it."
"A few nobles died. I knew none of them, and I did not kill them."
"No, no you did not. I know you tell the truth on that. You have never killed a child in your life, perhaps not even a wer."
"And yet here I sit."
"You sit here because you broke the farfarer's curfew, nothing else. It is only convenient then that we take this opportunity to interrogate you."
"Do tell."
"When commoners die, someone will want to know why and how. When nobles die, every noble will want to know why and how; it becomes a tedious operation to find all the details, find the people who need talking to. I grow weary of placating those unworthy simpletons," the enforcer confessed.
"They are hardly simple; they even tried to reinstate a tyrant I have heard," Valkon said.
"That is an unfounded statement," the enforcer said hesitantly.
"There was a blood bath," Valkon tried to remind. "The attempted crowning of a new tyrant ended in a blood bath...?"
"Valkon, the last blood bath took place before I was born. There has not been another petition since then," the enforcer informed. “You are talking about an event that took place some 150 seasons ago.”
"So a loather lied to me...?"
"No, a loather cannot lie."
"I do not understand myself now."
"There are many things that differ a loather from a justiciar. I will let you know this only: a loather remembers everything other loathers do. It carries down their line, their legacy. What this loather told you was an old memory, nothing more," the enforcer explained.
"This would mean I have not been gone for five seasons."
"No, that much is true, your grandmaster was happy to confirm that. Try not to think too much on loather's thinking patterns. They are terribly dull and still too complex."
Valkon brewed on the thought for a moment before the enforcer broke the silence.
"I understand you would have requested to know this loather's name."
"No, we never exchanged this information."
"Shame, it would have made my dealings that much easier."
The enforcer started walking toward the door.
"Once your house arrest expires you are free to traverse the Waterfronts," the enforcer said. "However, the Common District and the Patriarchal Circle are out of bounds, where you will find yourself to be put to death if you try to access."
As the enforcer left the room and shut the door behind him Valkon could not help but feel the pleasant hospitality of a gentle knife presenting him with a pillow, only to stab him when he tried to lay on it.
In the midst of the chaotic silence where one young colt and two older stallions, both with accounts to the same entity, wished to press for answers at the reception of the College of Trottingham; a lie had been told, so was it then really such a surprise that the guards had been called in to control the latent hostility within the crowd? The old stallion and his pegasus friend were firmly rooted to the floor while the remainder of the group was quite content with walking away before the authorities locked them up for disorderly behaviour.
"We know nothing," the receptionist had claimed, but fruitlessly so.
Bacoltermann was now absolutely convinced a cover up was taking place, and it took two outside parties to bring this to light. At least to the point where there would be no doubt.
Merry Canterborough, the colt with the camera, was a direct witness to the creature known as Hyde, and he possessed a photograph to prove he had met it – and it matched Applejack’s sketch; it further proved another point: the Wight of the Waters was not a one-of-a-kind.
The silence was only broken by the arrival of two exhausted stallions, each with a face that had seen a ghost. Merry had thrown a tantrum over seeing their faces again, accusing them of having left him at the mercy of the being that was Hyde. Their response, too, had been denial, but too late. After words after words of petty excuses and deflections, Twilight lost her patience. Too much was at stake on her part, and every second was just a second more where Hyde could continue his malicious march.
"How dare you look at me and tell me I am wrong?!" Twilight challenged. "I have not travelled here with the burdening news of my friend's probable demise to be met with pitiful anecdotes of average at best explanations for how one pony might have misconstrued the being of a voraciously violent, vile visage of villainous vanity that crosses oceans and wreaks havoc where it goes!"
Twilight confronted the newly arrived stallions and pointed at them.
"Who, and how many more, has died at the brace of this being? What is to say your cover up is not directly responsible for the direction this has taken? Why could it not all have ended in Trottingham? Why did it have to be left alone to blind fate?"
The two stallions averted their gaze, unable to answer.
"I demand an answer!"
When a guard tried to separate Twilight from the stallions, it was them who stopped him and opened up. Though the receptionist broke character and tried to interrupt, it was clear one of the stallions was ready to talk. It was a unicorn with a snapped horn, Map Wright.
"The expression goes: 'a skeleton in your closet'. I believe we may have many," he said and sighed deeply.
He led the group out of the college up the street. It was not far before he stopped and pointed down a bricked road alley. He drew attention to the centre, where he took them and pointed to a round entrenchment in the ground, where all the bricks had crumbled.
"It was here that he died, the first victim. Black Hoof would know him."
"Errantworth, my cousin," Black Hoof said.
"Yes, but at the time we did not know you were related." Map Wright shook his head. "I am deeply sorry."
The other stallion, Poncey, allowed his silence to break when he took over the conversation.
"The story ends here on our account, but we can take you back to the beginning."
"I want to know the whole story, preferably," Bacoltermann said.
"It is a disturbingly short one."
Poncey guided the group through the alley into a small mews where he drew attention to three particular homes. A worn and faded building, a bright pink with flowery decor and an old, but still cared for home. He gave the group a chance to guess their next destination, for no other reason, perhaps, then to entertain his own ego. When the guesses had been for the most former and latter, Poncey opened the door the pink building.
"This is where I live," he said.
It was a welcoming place with colour-coordinated wallpapers that reflected the purpose behind each room. Twilight lost herself in exploration as she envied the creativity and organisation behind Poncey, the unassuming – but mare-like – earth pony.
"If I might bring attention to one certain hidden stairway," Map Wright said as he opened a small door under the main staircase.
The group climbed down into a basement that passed well for a windowless front room with its rich colour and cleanliness. Drawers and cabinets lined the walls, each carefully labelled both categorically and alphabetically. But it was an even smaller room that everypony was being directed towards. A windowed door revealed a back room of office supplies where a long table stood in the centre of the room, barely big enough to fit the congregation.
Map Wright opened a compartment under one of the cabinets and produced an envelope that he placed on the table. He nodded to Poncey, who begun to recount the event.
"Bacoltermann sent us a report of a strange creature he allegedly saw sailing the ocean on a rainy night. His admission to drinking led us to discount the report as inaccurate and unfounded."
"But there was something," Black Hoof said.
"Right. Only a day later none other than Errantworth tells us he saw a boat he did not recognise the make of. Shadow Vice was brought to the location where he himself made the discovery of an additional asset to the boat."
"The Wight?" Bacoltermann asked.
"Yes," Poncey said and nodded. "Admittedly at this point the right thing to do would be to confirm your report, but for one reason or the other we had neither your original letter nor did we have a solid reason to believe you sent it."
"That letter ended up in my library," Twilight said.
"You would have been here earlier if it had not first circulated around Equestria," Map Wright said in dismay. "And that publicity was the last thing we needed."
"As I was saying," Poncey cleared his throat. He was surprisingly sharp of tongue, and his tone of voice was not at all friendly. "The Wight was unconscious, but believed dead at the time. We brought it here for Errantworth to look at, being the only one of us with a passable understanding in anatomical zoology."
"That explains his continued involvement," Black Hoof said and shrugged.
"But something was not quite right."
"And that would be?" Twilight asked.
"Errantworth had not seen anything like it. It possessed the some physical traits we could cross-reference from other species. Map Wright."
Map Wright opened the envelope and let slide out a large collection of photographs.
"We found forelimb digits like those on minotaurs, fingers," Map Wright said and pointed at a close-up photograph of the Wight's forelimb. "However, it had more of them."
"At this point, when we figured out we were looking at the real deal, we gave it a nickname: Specimen V, after Shadow Vice who actually saw it first."
"Ah, so you disassociated it from the Wight," Bacoltermann remarked. "That was unethical of you."
"We know," Map Wright said and picked up another photograph.
"You were right about some details, as the painting your son created matched important details. Granted we used black and white Polaroid for this examination, its eyes were, indeed, moon-like, as seen in the photograph held up by my friend here."
"But despite knowing who this was, we maintained our own name for it."
"We now know you had it here, but what happened then?" Black Hoof asked.
"I told you we thought that it was dead," Poncey said almost snidely.
"Yes."
"It was not."
Map Wright placed two photographs next to one another, these two in colour.
"Specimen V was already pale, but look at the skin and the complexion. The photo on the right is the first, while the next one was taken nearly a week after," Map Wright urged.
Specimen V showed, in its newer photograph, clear signs of recovery. It was fatter, it was healthier and had more colour.
"Was it laying here on this table and just... growing?" Twilight asked. "How is that even possible?"
"It ate. It stole food when we were not around," Map Wright explained. "It took us a while to figure that out, however."
"Eating is one thing, how did it do so and still maintain discretion?" Bacoltermann asked. "If this photograph is accurate, you are saying he was no less than 6ft 5! Bloody salt, he's a giant!"
"How did you bring him here?" Black Hoof asked.
“That’s what I want to know,” Merry said.
"Yeah, I want to know that too. Applejack never said anything about his size!" Twilight remarked in shock.
"Contrary to his size, our scale said he only weighed around 140 lbs," Poncey explained.
Fluttershy coughed hysterically. She was always self-conscious; she did not need a giant weighing less than her to add to it.
"That makes him weigh less than an adult pony," Poncey finished.
Bacoltermann's eagerness appeared to grow as he enquired further on trivial details like the foods and the recovery of Specimen V. Before long, however, Map Wright returned the photographs back into the envelope and returned it to the hidden compartment. Poncey led the way back out into the basement room and pointed everypony to the stairs. Poncey no longer looked tense, as he had all this time, and he spoke the next line with a welcome brightness.
"I believe it would be best I conclude the story before we derail on the lost specimen's characteristics."
"Oh, yes," Map Wright agreed.
The gathering was led to the top floor into an empty room. One could really hear the echo of the hoof steps and even better when speaking.
"What happened in here?" Shady Daze asked, having stayed silent most throughout the story.
"This is where Specimen V began his escape. We had him cornered after we tricked him into believing we had left him for good," Poncey explained. "It links directly with his stealing of our food."
"It was not the best idea, in the end," Map Wright said and rubbed the stump that remained of his horn.
Twilight could almost fathom the event that took place and felt a little bit sorry for Map Wright. However, if he lost his horn to Specimen V almost a year ago, that would also have meant the horn never grew back.
"How did you lose your horn, exactly?" Twilight asked.
"Well, uh, Specimen V did something that caused us all to go hurtling through the air, and when I hit a bookshelf, my horn must have snapped."
"I’d like to correct that," Poncey said.
"Oh?"
"Your horn came off almost immediately before any of us left the ground. It did not break off from the impact, it fell off when Specimen V attacked."
"But he did not even touch us."
"No, so some kind of magic was involved."
Bacoltermann let out a nervous laugh. It was almost as if his prior speculation of the Wight's capabilities had just been for shallow self-entertainment.
"Goodness me, so I guessed that, did I?" Bacoltermann whimpered.
"Erm, we never actually saw much of it. Errantworth was the only victim he claimed," Poncey said. "But I am told that by voice alone, Specimen V reduced Errantworth's skull into dust. Not the most... dignified way to die."
"So the Wight of the Waters is a danger, then? We need to go back to Ponyville as soon as possible!" Twilight said.
"Not so fast, I don't think," the voice came from outside the room.
Twilight turned around and saw a menacing face attached to a menacing body. A black earth pony of comic book proportion, the labour-stallion's body. Silence befell the room at his arrival. Only Bacoltermann dared to break the silence.
"So it is you... Shadow Vice."
"I suspect now that my two associates have spoken, you may wish to prattle to the crowd."
Bacoltermann did not answer.
"But perhaps you would like to take a moment to consider the implications if you do."
Shadow Vice slowly walked into the room, with each step demanding some space of his own. And no pony was eager enough to stand ground.
"You probably have not heard about how we withdrew our financial support to the night guard; no longer are the roads that link Trottingham with the rest of Equestria guarded, and the notorious Highway Dogs have built an empire out of tolling traveller and peddlers alike. Those who do not comply are robbed on the spot and left with nothing."
"You did that? It's your fault we have bandits running around the borders of our city!?" Black Hoof asked.
"There's more. We made a personal business out of fabricating testimonies to the whereabouts of Specimen V or, as you called it, Wight of the Waters. Thus ensuring no one account could be taken seriously and risk pursuit of unwanted zealots, while we could continue our own hunt without interruption."
"You risked the lives of every pony in town just to ensure you would be the only ones to catch the Wight?!" Merry demanded.
"And we also interfered with a number of investigations on a missing boat from a month ago, the lesser of our evils if you would call it that."
"Why was that boat so important?" Twilight asked.
Shadow Vice laughed and produced a piece of paper, the paper contained Applejack's sketch of Hyde.
"Because the Wight is gone; we have a new visitor, and he is - Very. Much. A threat."
"Hyde..." Fluttershy whined.
"So that's what you call him? It would be the greatest pleasure to procure this specimen. The research could prove invaluable."
"You like what you have done?!" Twilight yelled.
"Oh, I have only just started. But now I will ask you to finish it, young miss."
Shadow Vice scrawled up the piece of paper and tossed it aside. He approached Bacoltermann with a wide grin on his face.
"Ever since you got that wretched little runt, you've lost all your ambitions. Would it not be great to finally be allowed to chase this ponytale yourself?"
"Leave him out of it, I have nothing to do with that colt!" Bacoltermann deflected.
"How would you like to be the front of my research? To pursue the new Wight of the Waters, and finally be recognised for the discovery of a new specie?"
Twilight could not believe her ears. Shadow Vice had kept hidden the existence of Specimen V, but now that overwhelming proof had been placed against him, he was too willing to give Bacoltermann the recognition he deserved. But there was a catch.
"I... I..." Bacoltermann tried.
"Stop right there, Vice!" Black Hoof said and stepped in between the two. "You won't be using my friend so easily."
"I only need a short while of compliance. You are free to help him, of course," Shadow Vice assured.
"This is too suspicious."
"And what would you do? Let Hyde go? Do you realise what this means? We have the single biggest discovery in front of our hooves; all we need to do is grab hold of it."
"Hyde belongs to a race of horse slavers, this is a bad idea!" Black Hoof said.
"Oh? How do you know that?"
"Twilight told me," Black Hoof said and pointed to Twilight. "She has seen a zebra's observation of a specie matching closely to this one. We are not the first to see him, but we can be sure we are the last he sees of us."
"Wait, you want us to kill Hyde?" Poncey asked.
"I don't mean kill him. But think about it. Specimen V was bad enough, but Hyde had demonstrably turned aggressive toward ponies. Who knows what other kind of reckoning he has already wreaked at this point?"
"I have no desire to go on a blood hunt," Map Wright said sternly. "We spent a year trying to find Specimen V, but this Hyde sounds like bad news, really bad news."
"We cannot let this one be lost to us," Shadow Vice exclaimed. "Enslave, you say? That would explain the horse in the sketch." Shadow Vice walked over to Poncey and Map Wright. "You won't be going on a hunt, I assure you. We will let Bacoltermann find him for us."
"And what makes you so sure he'll accept?" Twilight demanded.
"Oh, I know Bacoltermann better than you think, young filly." Shadow Vice turned to Bacoltermann again; "Is that not so, old friend?" His smile, wide like a wolf's grin, did not give Twilight the warmest feeling.
It was not until the moment the letterbox had suddenly exploded with blinding light and spat out all of its content, leaving in it only one hard paper envelope stamped with the royal sigil , that Spike realised that this day was unlike any other. Sure, he had awoken late, attended to his morning chores in noon and barely managed to get his breakfast before tripping on the doormat on his way to bring in the mail. As he had finally gathered the last letter, noticing how none of them were addressed to himself; the letter that had remained in the letterbox, however, was not addressed to anypony at all.
"Well that's strange. Sure, this is the princess' stamp, but why in an envelope?" Spike wondered.
Presuming it was just the princess enjoying some time with more modern conventions, herself quite the aged one - no offence intended - Spike just did the usual and opened and read the letter. None of the characters were of any language he could readily recall, and Spike thought, perhaps, there must have been a misunderstanding.
Not one to bother the princess with potentially unnecessary questions, Spike took out a few books on language and alphabets to see if he could not decode the letter on his own. After a streak of failures he gave in and threw the letter across the table with unexpected results. Caught in the wind, the letter came back to Spike but turned upside down. All of a sudden many of the characters had meaning to him, and he felt dumb for it. The letter read, to his knowledge, poetically but did not form the most concise message.
Something to do with 'dark times', 'unwelcome stranger' and 'disparity'; to which something would 'prosper'. 'Tyrant' and an 'enemy' followed by 'tyrant' - again - and 'friend', once again mentioning the prosperity of something else. The remaining writing was so obscure that even what words Spike could make out, he found no context for them. There was, however, something. The last line had written down, phonetically, ’Princess Celestia ’ followed by 'kingdom'.
"Huh... imagine that," Spike said and returned the letter to the envelope.
He thought little of it at the time and was quite content to let that letter sink in before continuing his dealings. It just struck him then that he had promised to visit Sweet Apple Acres to see how Applejack was doing.
"Aw, nuts!" Spike complained as he waddled for the door.
He had barely turned the door handle when the boldest and heaviest blowing of the biggest war bugle blew the door right open and Spike was greeted by the visage of the meanest, greenest dragon who had ever flown over Ponyville.
It zoomed right over the library and sent shivers down Spike's spine, and the first thing he could think to do was to run back to the envelope, write on it 'Spike read it', and sending it with fire. After that his mind was a blur.
---
Valkon hung out over the window one more time and spotted an eager to earn young walking past.
"You there!" Valkon called.
The young took a short moment to find where the voice came from.
"Tell me, young, if you would not be interested in the thing I possess," Valkon enticed.
"I do not know what that thing is," the young said. "Tell me."
"Treasure, is what I have."
"You are on house arrest! I know your face," the young challenged.
"Now we think together, young, if you tell me your name I shall tell you mine," Valkon proposed.
"Greger, born to the Commons District's far steppes."
"I praise the Three Virtues to have come upon you, then, young. My name is Valkon, son of Dusell. I, too, am born to the far steppes," Valkon cheered. "I would propose a trade of you, young."
"I will listen," the boy said sceptically.
"I would ask that you see in the far steppes for my family, I have not seen them in so long," Valkon said. "I trust you can do this."
"I can."
"Then be fleet of foot, and be back here with even more haste," Valkon urged. "See there in my house in the Horse Acres an old tailor, with his son, a musician. It will be the moss green house with the thirteen brass-lily bells on the front, or if they have been removed, spot the alabasters."
"The alabasters are near extinct, I doubt I will find one there."
"You will know when you see them, I have beheld their growth myself," Valkon assured. "Now go, and I shall honour my end of the bargain."
The young ran off into the distance and disappeared behind a street corner. Valkon sat back and drew up a small note on a piece of paper. What he was giving the young was nothing less than his entire savings that he wanted to preserve for such a time that he would need it. But what was more important now was to know his family still lived.
---
"So, you're sayin' the dragon flew over here and... that's it?" Applejack asked.
"Mm-Hmm..." Spike whimpered.
"Anything else? Nothing you'd like to put there?" Rarity hinted.
"Mm-Hm..."
Spike had lost all faith in his masculinity.
"What was that all 'bout anyhow? First over the orchard, scaring everypony, and now here?" Applejack asked. "I mean, I guess Pathfinder was right, and all, but it makes no sense."
"She did say the dragon was not going to attack here," Rarity agreed. "But it is strange, yes."
"Maybe he just took a leisurely flight over Ponyville?" Pinkie Pie suggested. "Probably more interesting than all that mountain and forest."
"Nah, not good enough. Dragons don't usually like civilisation," Applejack said. "Heh, 'cept for Spike, here, of course."
"Are you okay, Spikey?" Rarity asked.
"Yeah, great," Spike lied. "At least that dragon's gone, though."
"I know, that scary dragon must have been so terrifying."
"A little, I guess. Made me jump, is all."
"Well at least you're in good spirit, sport. Tell me now, why was all this so important? Ya only did call us over here to speak with you," Applejack commented.
"Yeah-yeah, so listen here," Spike started. "This morning the letterbox almost exploded in my face, and in the box I found this letter-"
"I don't see a letter," Pinkie Pie interrupted. "But at least you are okay, I mean, that letter box was still there, so you must have fixed it up good!"
"As I was saying... the letter was not addressed to Twilight, otherwise I would have barfed it up as usual, but it was blank. Only on the bottom did it say to whom."
"Who was it?" Pinkie Pie asked.
"Let 'im get to it!" Applejack scolded.
"Princess Celestia," Spike replied impatiently.
No gasp of surprise echoed in the room, which was perhaps expected as this was no big deal yet.
"Thing is: the letter sounded kind of like a poetic warning. Something to do with -"
Spike felt a sudden burst of gas working its way up his throat and before long he belched a big fire. A scroll landed on the floor before him and he picked it up embarrassedly.
"Ehem... well, uh, excuse me."
"What's it say?" Applejack asked.
Spike opened the scroll and the first line said 'Spike, keep this a secret. Tell nopony.'
"Well?"
I will speak with you then, Princess Celestia.
"Just some, you know, uh, logistics. Making sure that, uh, things are fine," Spike jested as he slowly began to move to the door. "But Twilight isn't here, so I guess I have to, uh, ask her myself... ahem, in Canterlot, uh, to let her know that..."
"What's on that letter?" Rarity asked, having clearly caught on.
"Yeah, you're not really fooling us," Pinkie Pie said with a frown.
"What's so important ya can't tell us?" Applejack asked.
"Well, it was nice seeing you," Spike started. "I will make sure to visit more often."
Spike opened the door and was about to exit the library before he ran into a wall. Said wall had a brown coat of fur, golden mane and was bigger than the biggest pony Spike had ever seen.
"Holy guaca..."
"Oh, that there's Pathfinder," Applejack said. "A dragon expert, apparently."
"I never made such claims, I only voiced the knowledge I had," Pathfinder corrected.
Pathfinder was gargantuan in size and totally dwarfed the already small dragon.
"She's a horse?" he asked.
"Yep, a big and strong one," Applejack replied. "She works in the farm."
"Since when?!" Spike demanded. "Surely I'd known if a horse came into town, right? You would have told me, right?"
"She came in just yesterday, actually," Applejack explained. "Didn't think we'd be recruitin ' but we did. So here we are."
"You are an interesting one," Pathfinder remarked as she looked down at Spike. "I am not quite sure where to place you."
"Uh, um, no... I need to get going," Spike said and ran under the horse's legs. "Look after Owlowicious and Peewee for me while I'm gone!"
"Where ya goin?!" Applejack yelled. "Why are ya keepin' secrets!?"
Spike ran as fast as he could toward the train station but was quickly outmatched by the speed of the horse he had ran past.
"What now?" Spike asked.
"You are keeping secrets," the horse asserted.
"No way! You think?" Spike said snidely as he tried to walk around her.
"I wish to know what it is," the horse said and she once again blocked his way.
"It is private, I can't say anything."
"You have nothing to gain for keeping secrets from me. I wish to know."
"It's really none of your business," Spike asserted as he tried to run under her again.
The horse laid flat on her belly to prevent this action.
"What will it be? I can be difficult, or you could give in."
"Are you always this annoying?" Spike asked.
"I have never been called that, no," she replied, almost sounding like she had never heard that word before.
"Well that's what you are right now. I can't tell anypony, end of story. Now if you're not gonna get out of the way, or let me under you, I'll just climb over you!" Spike said and jumped for her back.
"It would be my pleasure," she laughed and stood up quickly.
Spike was now further up than he had ever been seated on somepony's back, and vertigo kicked in instantaneously.
"AH! PUT ME DOWN!" Spike cried. "LET ME DOWN, NOW!"
"No."
"JUST DO IT!"
The horse began to trot along the road, shaking the frightened dragon with every step. This was a different kind of torture, and he had walked right into it.
"Why is it so important to you?!" Spike asked.
"Curiosity."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"I can't tell you, it says so on the letter!" Spike complained.
She picked up the pace to a canter. Spike laid down to maintain balance. It was not very effective as he kept bouncing and hitting his face against her back.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Spike asked.
"I will ask you the same. I have never kept a secret in my life, now I will share with you the opportunity to do the same."
"That's not even fair! I owe you nothing!"
"Once I let you down, yes you do," she remarked.
"You're mean, pure evil!"
The horse sped up for a full gallop. Now Spike had to really grapple hold of whatever handle the horse had to offer. In his short moment of actually looking where he was, Spike noticed that the horse had already taken them past the station and toward the outskirts of Ponyville. She was moving at such a tremendous pace Spike was convinced she could even catch up with a train if she put her mind into it. But she was still abducting him.
"Please stop! I'm getting sick!" Spike pleaded.
"You know what I want!" the completely calm horse said.
"You are not making any sense!"
"I trust Applejack to know you are acting suspicious. I can find the answer once I break your threshold."
"What are you, an interrogator?!"
"Yes, I am now!"
"Just stop!"
"I would..."
"You would!"
"I would."
"But?"
"I need your word that you will tell me your secret!"
"I'll tell you now, I will tell you right now if I have to! Just stop!"
Spike noticed two things: one, the horse had already taken them far out of town in a ridiculously short amount of time; two, she was not taking him to Canterlot. They were in the middle of nowhere when she finally stopped and laid down.
"Now you talk," the horse said.
Spike rolled off the horse's back and hit the ground without resistance. He croaked for fresh air and spat out a fly.
"I have been summoned by the princess, that is why I am going," Spike said. "And I am heading that way." Spike pointed towards the giant city on the mountain side.
"I see no sensibility in building a stronghold there," the horse said.
"It's a city."
"Worse still."
"Well, that's that," Spike said and struggled back up on his feet.
"Not so fast," the horse said and placed her hoof on his tail. "I still have not heard what it is regarding."
Spike just got a thought. In the letter he had found one word stood out as having a double meaning. Whether it was part of a longer word, or if perhaps it should be taken out of the sentence and looked at separately, Spike was not sure.
"I think there was something about 'children' but it could be something else. 'End of children' or 'no more children', I can't remember."
The horse appeared caught in thought.
"Uh, 'tyrant' showed up a couple of times, but nothing I know about... um..." Spike tried. "'Children prospers'?"
"You may be referring to the 'Children of the End'. 'Bide and Prosper' is a philosophical virtue amongst them," the horse said.
"What?" Spike looked at the mare with wide eyes.
"They are not a terribly friendly people, but their hearts are in the right place," the horse continued. "As of tyrant, that is the word they use for leaders, it is also a word they ascribe to powerful dragons."
"Wow." Spike shook his head. "You know this stuff? I should have given the letter to you instead!"
"I cannot read, little one. But I know these things because I came from there."
"From where?"
"Heaven Over The Azure, a landmass surrounded by a mountain range housing thousands of dragons and their roosts," the horse bowed her head. "You would know of those, would you not, little dragon."
"Actually... I know very little of dragons," Spike admitted. "There are not a whole lot of studies on them here in Equestria."
"Then I believe I have something to trade your honesty for. But where do I take you first?"
Spike thought for a moment. He had here an interpreter who knew about the meaning of the letter, but Celestia asked him to come alone. Then again, Celestia probably did not have in mind a horse who only came to town the other day who had relevant information. Was it worth the risk? Spike climbed back up on the horse's back and she rose once again.
"Canterlot is that castle over there, would you like to come with me?" Spike asked.
The horse walked down into the river they had been resting next to before replying.
"I can manage that journey, but now I wish to rest a moment while the opportunity arises," she replied and laid down on her belly, partially submerged in the water. She let out a satisfied moan as the water brushed against her sides.
"Great, uh, so when we're ready, we just go back to the station and catch the train, right?"
"Training, you say... that sounds like a good idea."
Shortly after the horse let out a long sigh followed by a weak snore. She had fallen asleep.
"Uh, miss? You shouldn't sleep in the water, it's dangerous," Spike warned, but she did not heed him. "Hello?"
Spike was stranded on a small platform surrounded by a coursing river he did not dare attempt to swim. The fish were swimming by and inquisitively inspecting the new object that was introduced to their playground. Spike allowed himself time to ponder, for he had no place to go now. He could swear he heard rustling in the bushes on the other side of the river, as if something was spying on them. But Spike could not understand any of it, nor what they might be observed for. Now was that not just the strangest thing?
---
In a small batch of forest the two dogs Itch and Tick were meeting up with their fellow lackey, who had been sent on a recon mission, but failed to return on deadline. The charcoal-black dog before them, who was living up to his name Smokey, had thin traces of smoke emanated from his body. He looked absolutely gob-smacked by what had happened, though Itch had no idea what.
"And why do you look like you've been barbecuing yourself?" Itch asked.
"It was this brilliant idea I had... but it didn't work out," Smokey replied.
"Well, tell me!"
"You know when boss said he wanted a dragon?"
"Might do."
"Well, I was wondering if it wouldn't be possible to lure one back to base."
"... Ok..."
"But the one I found went a little crazy and burnt down half the Everfree Forest. Look," Smokey said and pointed.
In the distance the Everfree Forest stood with a relatively small batch of burnt woodland.
"He barely singed it," Tick remarked.
"Well tell that to the one who was almost cooked in the fire!"
"Whatever, you were stupid and reckless. Nothing good comes from trying to tame a drag-..." Itch started.
"Yes...?"
"That dragon that flew past just a while back..."
"The green one?"
"That's the one. Was that the dragon you were trying to tame?"
"Err... yes."
Itch walked over the edge of the forest and peaked out.
"What are you looking at?" Tick asked.
"Would you look at that..." Itch muttered. "When can we get another dragon?"
"You want to try again?" Smokey asked.
"What's the name of the town up that river?"
"Which direction?"
Itch turned his head and growled.
"Upstream, you moron!"
"Ponyville, I think," Tick answered. "Why?"
"Plans have changed. Look over there," Itch answered.
Smokey and Tick hung over Itch's shoulder an looked out to the supposed river mentioned. In the lake they all saw a pony lying down in the river, basking in the sun.
"That's a pretty big pony," Smokey remarked.
"Not just any pony, the pony that killed Scratch," Itch said.
"That's not what we saw!" Tick whispered.
"No, but would you rather chase that murderous griffon?" Itch hissed.
"Good point."
"She killed Scratch?" Smokey asked.
"How do you know it's a her?" Itch wondered.
"I dunno, just a guess."
"What's that on her back?" Tick asked.
"I think it's a baby dragon." Itch answered.
"Well isn't she the strangest thing around. So, what, do we get her now, or what?"
"She got Scratch clean and good, I won't take any chances," Itch said. In truth, he was concerned about her supposed griffon companion, who was nowhere to be seen.
Itch stayed to observe the pony for a while whilst Tick and Smokey planned for another attempt at finding a dragon. Itch watched the pony stand up and walk upstream. Upstream where this town called 'Ponyville' was supposed to be.
"We need to find a dragon and get it to go to Ponyville," Itch said as he turned to his comrades. "I'm sure that's where it will be."
"And how do you suppose we do that?" Smokey asked.
"Easy," Itch assured. "We find some gems, tell the dragon we have more - which we don't - and strike a deal!"
"What deal?" Tick asked.
"To bring us the pony, of course. That way we won't have to do the dirty work and can still get out of this mess. It's the perfect plan!"
"But what if the dragon just fries us and takes the gems instead?" Smokey asked.
"You're being a pessimist! Think of the opportunities instead. Do you really think a dragon would stupidly pass up a chance for some more jewels to add to his collection?"
Neither of the dogs answered.
"Didn't think so! Now, C'mon, let's get some bargaining chips," Itch ordered and ran off.
---
A rock came flying in through the window and Valkon looked out. The young, Greger, had returned.
"Such haste, Greger, you are a gifted runner!" Valkon praised.
"I found your house, and I saw the alabasters," Greger said.
"Tell me, Greger, I want to hear it."
"The bells are gone, the paint is worn and the door is sealed."
Valkon thought for a moment.
"You jest, young! That is not possible at all!"
"I saw it with my own eyes! Call me a liar!" Greger challenged.
"No, no I will not," Valkon declined. "You held your promise, now I shall mine." Valkon brought up the note he had written. "In the Common District lives a man by the name Alvid. I made a bet with him that the horizon was empty. You find him and tell him this: 'a farfarer told me that the horizon was empty' and give him this note, he shall present to you your reward." Valkon dropped the note and Greger caught it.
"Valkon, you know the meaning of your house's barring."
"True, but I believe it is a misunderstanding."
"There were no other alabasters growing. That was your house."
"And I believe that," Valkon whispered. "Now go... you have pressing matters."
Valkon left the window and laid down on his bed. The thought that his home stood dormant meant one of two things: his family had moved, or they were dead with no heir. The latter one would be hard to digest. For sure, his father was gravely ill last they had spoken, but he was always a strong man - almost indomitable. Valkon was himself a hardy man, strong and fit to take punishment; he had inherited such a trait from his father. However, his brother was thin and meagre, but otherwise always healthy. What of him? His brother was too young to be ailed by age, too active to be ailed by lethargy, too private to be ailed by enemies. How could even his brother be gone?
The door knocked and without permission a justiciar walked in and introduced a visitor.
"His Honour and Prestige, grandmaster of the farfarers, Elmond Vega."
A familiar child entered the room with eager in his face; it was youthful, yet wrinkled with age, the hair was paled, short, originally a faded brown, but the eyes were nonetheless the typical grey. Elmond Vega, who personally taught Valkon the farfarers' trade. A respected man, a wealthy man, but he s till lived down in the Waterfronts.
"It is truly you, Valkon," Elmond said. "We mourned too soon."
"To be sure," Valkon joked.
"You are simply torn. You must look your best for your grandmaster."
"The justiciars made sure I would not," Valkon said and pointed to his split lip and other bruises he had accumulated over the past few cycles.
"No, Valkon, that beard, your hair, you look like a savage from the Culling Grounds, worse still a farmer," Elmond explained.
"You forget my pedigree, grandmaster," Valkon joked.
Elmond placed upon the table a leather folder and sat down. Valkon slowly invited himself over and opened it. In the folder were scissors, razor blades and combs, as well as a bar of soap and skin powder.
"I thank you, grandmaster," Valkon said.
"You are naturally handsome, so I will see to it that you regain that face," Elmond said. "You must clean up, we have much to discuss." Elmond turned to the justiciar and waved his hand dismissively.
As the justiciar left the room and closed the door Valkon took the initiative to clean himself by the mirror. He took the leather folder and begun the process. Meanwhile Elmond broke the silence.
"Five seasons is a long time. You must have found something to sustain yourself," Elmond suggested.
"Fruit and flora, none of them which can be found here," Valkon explained as he wet the soap.
"Indeed, I see you are not touching your meat," Elmond said and grabbed the bowl containing in it the meat pieces Valkon had left aside.
"I have lost taste for it. I am no hunter," Valkon said as he carefully cut off his beard with a scissor.
"Indeed." Elmond took a bite of the meat but spat it out quickly. "And I know why. Once you are out we will see you eat proper cooking."
"I appreciate the sentiment, truly, but I feel this is the way it has to be."
Elmond laughed.
"I am sorry for your loss," Valkon said. "Had I known..."
"My brother chose his death. I would die before even thinking about crossing path with a loather, you did nothing, least of all facilitate Dal's death."
"Thank you," Valkon said and brought up a razor
"You ought to soap your face first, I saw you forgot."
"I have not shaved in five seasons... I am a disgrace to my family," Valkon complained as he scrubbed his face with the soap.
"You found edible fruit and flora in this land. I believe you may then have good information, and that we can sell."
Valkon jerked at the notion. He had escaped from a different kind of hell, one which he would see no wer ever visiting; the wer, unblessed in the ability to control magic and an inferior specimen of a shared ancestry, who relished in expanding their dominions.
"I assure you, grandmaster, we have no land to sell."
"It is inhabited, then."
"Yes."
"And the inhabitants are not willing to part with their land."
"True."
"I understand. It hurts to hear your suffering has been in vain."
"I am sorry too, I had no right to cross the Sky Curtain."
"You had every right, do not misunderstand. I commend your bravery, and I value your sacrifice. We know there is aught there, now to find uninhabited lands."
A farfarer's job was to search for suitable expansions and sell the information to wer-kind. No child would normally be so bold as to travel outside the veil, but wer would eagerly seek such expansions. And they were good business.
"So tell me of this land. We children have no interest in it, but the wer may still have reason to... communicate."
Valkon did not want to answer.
"Deadlands, hostile creatures and, in its entirety, a hell of its own."
"Deadlands, there are no fruits in deadlands," Elmond remarked. "You jest."
"I do not jest, grandmaster," Valkon assured. "For this dead is not the barren... no this dead is the lands own will to kill. I have never seen anything like it!"
"Do tell."
"In the sky float masses of white cotton, and when they become dark and wet they spill their water onto the land below."
"The... sky harbours wet cotton..."
"It is not natural, I have never seen that before. We have no word for it. When the cotton is dark and grey it will also sometimes clamour with thunderous intensity and shoot spears of light into the earth. The light itself can ignite into flames all it touches. Fear... I can only begin to describe my fear," Valkon said.
"A hell, indeed."
"But most mystifying of all was when the sky turned completely white, and from it fell ice! And the ice laid onto the ground and created more ice."
"Fascinating," Elmond whispered. "This is nothing like I have ever seen."
"There is more, I tell you, the sun raises above the mountains and it glares down like the mad god it is, and it blinds you. For the most part of the cycle it is up there, held up by nothing."
"Wer already see that sun every cycle," Elmond pointed out dryly, "it could not be remarkable of its own."
"Maybe not, but as I beheld the moon rise in its stead I could feel a strange energy, as if a guide, an agent, was responsible for its movements. I felt as if there were greater things there."
"You were deluded, then. But I understand you worries. No, we cannot sell this information for fear it may inflame our trade with the wer. No, Valkon, we will do right to keep this a secret."
Valkon sighed in relief.
"But there is one thing," Elmond said.
Valkon stopped shaving to look at him.
"When you walk out of here you should speak with the enforcer." Elmond paused. "You sent a loather to a hellish land, so the enforcer would be your best choice to train."
"Train for what?" Valkon asked.
Elmond looked at Valkon in shock. Another question had slipped his tongue.
"For when the loather comes back to strike you down."
"Surely it will not come to that."
"Get trained. It is a sound plan."
Elmond left the room as Valkon returned to cleaning himself up. If an enraged loather was to come back for his blood, surely even the enforcer would be no use. Or could it? The enforcer could teach him how to better make use of the unicorn horn he had acquired in the land he escaped from. How a child truly tapped into the magic that resided within them. And that was a sound plan.
---
---
"Why do you need these jewels? They belong to boss!" the treasurer said.
"I know, but we have a perfect plan, a sound plan, that requires a small bit of wealth," Itch said.
They had run all the way back to the Highway Dogs' hideout treasury to make their collection a little bit easier. Unfortunately the idea of enticing a dragon would only appeal to someone stupid like Smokey, or desperate as Tick and Itch.
"The returns will be worth it, I swear. We need such a small amount that you won't even notice it was taken out to begin with!" Tick assured.
"How much?" the treasurer asked angrily.
"Three decent sacks? Maybe if we each had a small sack each we could get this scheme going. Not a lot, mind, just enough to tease the tongue of a big investor!" Tick explained, trying to sound promising.
"And who's this investor, and what are we investing in?"
"The boss' satisfaction. In fact, the sum is fully intended for his pleasure," Itch replied.
"Way to sound like an idiot," Tick mocked.
"Shut up!"
"Do tell me why I find you skulking in the treasury," an unwelcome voice said.
"Brawler? Are you following us?!" Itch asked.
"Of course I am," Brawler confessed. "All to ensure your success, why else?"
"We don't need your help!" Tick hissed. "We can handle this all on our own."
"Yet you cannot even convince our treasurer to part with a paltry sum of jewellery?"
"I haven't finished talking yet, I can handle this," Itch assured.
"Smokey, why are you covered in soot?" Brawler asked. "Oh, yes, a dragon, I forgot."
"How long have you been following us?" Itch asked.
"When did I stop...?"
Itch scratched his chin and remained silent.
"So... what are you saying?" Tick asked.
"If you want a dragon, you will need my help. Don't worry, I will not steal the credit," Brawler assured. "Just tell me the where's and when and I will set it up."
After a short amount of thinking Itch summoned Brawler to a private corner of the room.
"Okay, so here's the plan: the pony we met has been found. And we are positively sure she lives in a small town called Ponyville," Itch started.
"And the dragon comes in where?" Brawler asked.
"Well, she is a little bit tricky to deal with..."
"It's a 'she'?"
"Smokey says so."
"So Scratch was felled by a 'she'?"
"Is that so important?"
"Not as important as what race it is," Brawler replied.
"It's a big pony, okay? A big, brown pony with a bright mane," Itch cried with frustration. "Scratch died to a big she-pony!"
"That was not a pony, my friend," Brawler corrected.
"Then what?"
"A horse," Brawler said. "I trust you've heard of them?"
In truth, no. Itch had no idea what a horse was. He shook his head.
"A 'big pony', that's a horse. They are doubly sized, about three times as fast, five times the stamina, ten times the speed, need I go on?" Brawler asked
"No...?" Itch replied.
"Good, we are dealing with something none of us can match the speed of, the strength of, the stupidity of. So, you want a dragon to kill it?"
"Just catch it."
"Why catch it?" Brawler asked.
"Boss wanted her alive."
"Fair enough," Brawler said and walked back over to the treasurer. Whatever means of silver tongue he employed to convince the treasurer to invest in the project was forever a mystery to Itch, but he did care to learn. "This way, low-lives. Take a sack each, we have a dragon to tame!"
It was hard to digest the past event that had gone by and neither Trixie nor Coco Sweet dared to speak of it. They were rolling into Manehattan Broadway where a white stallion with thick-framed glasses met them. Mr. Broadway, the owner of The Lighthouse Cinema and Theatre, had awaited Trixie’s arrival in glee; though it was clear he was a bit worried as she had arrived a few hours late. It was already night time.
"Goodness me, what happened to your wagon?" Mr Broadway asked with an unsure laughter.
"Long story," Trixie replied weakly.
"Oh I believe that, darling, you're all bruised and got red on you."
Trixie took a moment to look at herself and she noticed quite a few red stains on her coat. Her mane had clotted at the ends and suffered the same problems. Apart from a few more sore scrapes and bruises, she had previously believed herself completely fine and presentable. This was, somehow, news to her.
"Well come in, tell me all about it."
"Not sure if you would believe me," Trixie said as she followed Mr Broadway into the building.
--- Earlier ---
"What is it?" Trixie asked.
"Why is he acting like that?" Coco Sweet whined.
"I don't know, he's completely unpredictable!"
Just ahead of them the road was choked between two hills. Whatever roused the usually quiet Pilgrim into a fit of rage, it was probably hiding there.
"I think there's something by those hills," Trixie said and tried to speed up the wagon with her magic.
Pilgrim did little to maintain his balance at this point and he was even standing on his hind legs.
"Sit down or hold onto something!" Trixie pleaded. "You might fall off!"
He did not heed her.
"Are we being attacked?!" Coco Sweet asked.
"I don't know, maybe."
A trip wire raised itself up from the ground behind the hills that forced the wagon to stop dead in its track. Pilgrim was flung off the platform and flew many yards away. Trixie, who had held onto a handle, only barely managed to save herself from sliding off. Coco Sweet could be heard breaking her own fall, and probably took the least damage from the sudden stop.
"Pilgrim, are you alright?" Trixie asked with her magic.
Suddenly a gang of dogs emerged from the shadows of the trees surrounding the wagon's front.
"No turning back now, missy. Hand over your goods and we won't go rough on ya!" the leader demanded.
"Who are they?" Coco Sweet asked.
"The Highway Dogs, a bandit gang who rose to infamy over the last year," Trixie replied.
"Well that will make it all the more easy for us, then, won't it?" the leader said. "So, hand over the goods, and be a good pony now."
Trixie was almost inclined to co-operate but that would not guarantee them anything. For all she knew, the Highway Dogs would still maul them for humour's sake.
"No!" Trixie said sharply.
"Then we won't be held responsible for what we do to you!" the leader said. "Sic 'em boys!"
As the dogs charged on, Trixie retreated into the wagon and magically merged the door with the frame.
"Huh, I did not know I knew that spell," Trixie remarked as she backed inside the wagon.
"What happened to the door?" a dog asked.
"Who cares? Rip the walls off!"
No time was wasted on tearing the planks off, though the effort was slow to take effect. Trixie tried her best to deter her assailants by launching nails through any opening that revealed itself. Most of the times she missed, but the occasional yelp proved some degree of success.
"What's with this one? That's no pony, what is he?" a dog asked.
"I dunno, but he looks kind of like a dog too, right?" another dog said.
"Get 'im up, he's with ‘em," the leader said. "Got your friend here, what's he worth to you?"
Trixie looked out the door window and saw the dogs gathering around Pilgrim. He was barely being held up by the shoulders as the dogs presented their hostage.
"You want something bad to happen to 'im? We can't get to you, we can still get to this poor sod!"
"Leave him alone!" Trixie hissed. "You'll pay dearly if you hurt him!"
"Too late for that, missy! You already catapulted him off the wagon yourself, he's out cold. See?"
Pilgrim was not moving, it was clear the fall had already taken its toll.
"So how about you open up that door, step aside, and let us be done with it? Eh?" the leader suggested.
"Trixie, Pilgrim needs help!" Coco Sweet pleaded. "Maybe we should."
"I don't know him that well!" Trixie reasoned. "We met just this morning."
"But he's still not a scapegoat!"
"I know, I know, I feel guilty for even thinking that!"
"I'll count down from three, then we'll just rip that wagon down after we cut this whelp open," the leader warned. "Three..."
"Oh, Celestia, what do I do!?" Trixie thought.
"Two..."
"Gotta do something!"
"One..."
Trixie let instinct take over and she aimed her horn at Pilgrim. Maybe, just maybe, some miracle would work itself. After a violent flash of light, Trixie opened her eyes and found herself outside the wagon, behind all the dogs, Pilgrim resting on her side.
"I did that?" Trixie asked herself.
"Where'd he go?" the leader asked.
"There they are!" another dog yelled and pointed.
The dogs came charging once again, but this time circumstances were different. Trixie had nowhere to retreat, and Pilgrim was also in her protection. How to transport the pony now? He was already of formidable size, and would not be moved easily even if there were two of her there. But something happened then. As the dogs drew just the smallest step closer from the ten yard distance, Pilgrim was swiftly up on his hind legs again.
"Pilgrim?! You're awake!" Trixie cried.
Pilgrim skipped in front of her to meet the attacker. He audibly drew breath and, as they came within arm’s reach, he bellowed as loud as any dragon could hope to muster. The attacking dogs were thrown back by the shockwave created by his voice and left disoriented. The dust was not even beginning to settle.
"So he's got some lungs, eh?" the leader said, the only one who had not tried to attack them. "Get up and kill ‘im!"
Only a small number of the dogs managed to scurry up on their paws again to resume their assault, but Pilgrim was clearly expecting that. He pulled from a long holster a long, thin metal bar, resembling a ruler, and held it to the side. As the returning dogs once again got within reach, Pilgrim swung his weapon in a wide arc across the dog's heads. Trixie was blinded by a spray of viscous liquid and could not make the results out, but it sounded terrifying
"Okay, that changes things!" the leader barked in shock "Surround him, attack him from the back!"
Trixie threw herself down on the ground and tried to clear her eyes. She only heard the ensuing action from the dogs' side. Pilgrim, as usual, remained silent. But there was a discomforting sound, following a faint whistling, that Trixie could not find a likeness for. It was a dark thudding noise, not quite beating a sack of soft goods, but actually impaling it. Nothing Trixie had heard for herself. But the dogs cried whenever this happened and the leader's tone of voice lost its confidence all the more.
"What are you doing?! Don't let ‘im get ya! Get behind ‘im! Get his legs! He won't be able to stand if you get his legs!"
"But he kicks with those!" another dog complained.
"I don't care, get him!"
Another loud cry shook the air and it made Trixie feel her strength failing. She still could not see anything, no matter how much she tried to rub her eyes. It hurt enough to just try to open them, but everything was so red and blurry. Pilgrim's silhouette could be barely made out against the light, and he looked nothing like Trixie had remembered him being. It was not the shape of pony, nor a pony on its hind legs.
"What are you?" Trixie thought to herself, as she felt herself sinking into the ground. She lost consciousness.
---
Trixie awoke with clarity. Her eyes were only blinded by resplendent sunlight against the blue leaves attached to the platinum white trees. It was not a place she could recall having ever visited. She slowly sat up uncomfortably, feeling much taller than she could recall herself being. The grass was at least the dark green she expected it to be. There were no clouds in the blue sky and the wind was comfortably chill. The only unsettling element, again, was that Trixie had no idea where she was.
Not far ahead of her was a small pond of unknown depth. One thin crevice on one side of the pond filled it, and the overflow escaped on the other end through three cracks. The pond stood almost under a large mound, surrounded by the forest Trixie had found herself in. By the pond, only now she realised, laid a friend. Trixie knew not who it was, the name of it, or even what it was, but it was still a friend.
Trixie got up on her hind legs, an uncomfortable posture she had no intention of maintaining, but somehow she felt she had no choice on the matter. She slowly approached her friend who had yet to notice her awakening.
"Hello?" she asked, but her friend did not answer. "Where did Pilgrim go? Is he okay?"
She continued to close in on her friend, who still had not registered her presence, and soon she was close enough that she could almost reach her.
"What about Coco Sweet? She is safe, right?"
Still no response.
"Can you even hear me?" Trixie demanded with masked frustration.
Trixie's friend turned its head slowly, as its face almost revealed itself an intense light blinded her and Trixie could hear a voice calling 'are you okay? Wake up, wake up.'
---
Trixie awoke in the wagon with a burning headache stemming from the root of her horn. She could actually see now, but it was not what she had hoped for. The wagon walls were clearly damaged and the door was completely missing. Coco Sweet sat over her, cradling her head over a basin filled with lukewarm water.
"What happened?" Trixie asked.
"I'd like to not think about it anymore," Coco Sweet replied.
"I couldn't see anything. I was completely blinded."
"You were lucky. I was too shocked to shut my eyes."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Coco Sweet held up a red-stained cloth.
"Is that... mine?"
"No, I don't think so at least," Coco Sweet said.
"What happened to the dogs?"
"Pilgrim... he... uh..."
"I don't want to hear it, then," Trixie sighed.
Trixie looked around the wagon hoping to spot Pilgrim, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is he?" Trixie asked.
"Outside."
Trixie struggled up on her fours and shuffled out the opening, which had been given a curtain as a make-shift door.
"This could not possibly get any worse, right?" Trixie asked herself.
As she got outside, the stars had already lit the sky. They had moved nowhere in the time she had been unconscious. Trixie jumped down and landed on the soft and clotted gravel road. It had surely rained while she was out as the dark clouds had suggested. Trixie looked to the top of the two hills trying to spot a stranger, or perhaps signs of more dogs. She could hear the faint crackling of fire from behind the wagon, but she was not too keen on investigating.
"Tell me, Coco, when did the sky clear anyway?"
Coco looked out from the curtain, clearly not too happy with its existence.
"The sky never clouded. We never entered the rain zone," Coco Sweet informed.
"So why is the ground wet...?"
Trixie did not stick around to hear the reply, which did not come anyway. She carefully trot around the fire and saw a tall bonfire. It gave off an unpleasant stench of burning rot, and quicker than hoped for, Pilgrim came into view. He was once again on his hind legs, a pony with an impeccable control of his centre of gravity. Trixie's attention was drawn to the holster hanging just over his left haunch. He possessed there a weapon like the tip of a spear, but considerably longer, and with a much shorter handle. She was not quite sure where from she recognised that particular weapon's design, however.
Pilgrim took a few steps into the shadow and bent down. He was suited up with the most restricting attire putting the corset saddle to shame. His boots were higher than any fashionable mare would dream of daring to wear; his hat was a sensible weather-proof wide-brimmed hat with a veil and he possessed a number of pouches and satchels on his person where he stored secrets in the dozens. Trixie had already observed his attire before and assessed he was a foreigner, but this stood out more than ever.
"Pilgrim?" Trixie called.
Pilgrim returned into the light dragging something out of the shadows. He swung it upwards and into view came the lifeless body of one of the Highway Dogs. Pilgrim was burning them in a pyre, a grave unmarked on an empty road. Trixie stopped just a few steps away from the fire and saw that its entirety was made out of the dead dogs. No logs, no branches, just the burnt remains of their attackers, none now alive to tell the tale of their failure.
"You... did this..." Trixie muttered as her voice trembled.
Pilgrim looked at Trixie for a short moment before resuming his routine. He disappeared into the shadow and returned with another dead dog that he carelessly threw into the fire.
"Why are you doing this?" Trixie asked with her spell.
The words scribed over the fire like embers, 'unmarked grave, unnamed enemies'. They faded soon with the embers. Trixie looked down to the gravel hoping that when she looked back up she would not see the burning of dogs, but something else. But even the ground was wrought with horror. The clotted gravel was dark red, and it stained her hooves. Trixie had never seen this sight before, only heard it in stories; the ‘bloodbath’.
"Why have you done this?" Trixie asked him.
'I am your guardian.'
---
"Well I suppose so long as you are both well in good shape, maybe I don't need to know the details," Mr Broadway said.
"Please, that would be best," Trixie asserted, having not told him about her ordeal.
"Well I will just show you your stage, and we can go over the small details."
Coco Sweet was slow to follow, having been clearly more damaged by the scene she had witnessed. Trixie stopped to check on her. She claimed to be fine, but Trixie did not fall so easily for that statement.
Trixie's situation with Pilgrim had gone from a bad, shaky start, to a worse, almost nightmarish stage. She harboured now, in her wagon, a silent and effective killer; hell-bent on putting to death any who so dared threaten her.
Sleep, sleep is what she wanted. Twilight was red-eyed like she could not believe it and now was the perfect time to just let all her weariness fade away. In Bacoltermann's estate there were no shortage of beds and having been permitted to simply pick one , Twilight allowed her senses guide her. She entered a more unassuming door in the guest wing where a neat bed with aquamarine duvet and pillow was lit up by the moon-lit sky. It was a queen-sized bed, but Twilight had always enjoyed being able to stretch and turn in her sleep, something she did not share with either Spike or her own brother.
As she crawled into bed and overheard the other ponies' good nights, she tried to find the strength to overcome the idea she was sleeping under somepony else's hospitality. It was an uneasy feeling, as if there was ever any need for her to get up again and, say, use the restroom, who would she ask? Or would it perhaps be more polite to simply look around to find it herself? She did not fall asleep fast that night, thinking too much on today's events. Shadow Vice was an unsettling character. He was obsessed with his research into Specimen V, who shared little to no real similarities with Hyde. The idea that Hyde was some kind of avenger was a terrifying feeling. If Rainbow Dash had come to harm for that, Twilight knew not how to deal with it.
Twilight twisted and turned under the duvet trying to make the most of the c omfort it had to provide. She had never slept under a duvet or on a mattress this thick. She sunk well into the spring, but it was somehow too much softness. As the moonlight continued to bother her she used her magic to roll down the blinds, hoping that the light was the only thing keeping her awake.
She closed her eyes and allowed the fatigue to spread evenly over her body. Soon she felt that nauseating sensation of riding a roller coaster that tiredness can sometimes give, and that downhill felt like the speed of a rocket. Twilight was falling into a deeper and deeper state of rest as her body froze up, but she realised she had not actually fallen asleep yet. That was not a pleasant thought. By sheer willpower she forced an eye open to survey her surroundings, trying to spot what was hiding in the shadow. She felt as if something was spying on her.
Twilight looked over to the blinds again, and it felt as if a giant face pressed against hers. The two lights from the corner of the blinds were actually the dead, white eyes of a terrifying creature she had seen only one place else. Specimen V was standing over her. He had not left Equestria.
---
"You can't be serious, Manny, he's been lying to you for a year!" Twilight scolded.
"I know this is crazy, but it is the way it has to be," Bacoltermann asserted.
"No, no it does not. Everypony deserves to know something dangerous is out there!"
"Specimen V is gone, Hyde is all that is left." Bacoltermann cleared his throat. "As much as it pains me to admit, I believe Shadow Vice may actually know what is best here. He is amongst the few who knows what Hyde may be capable of. Discretion is a good strategy at this point."
"But he's a liar!"
"And I believe him."
"I told you I knew Bacoltermann here better than you thought," Shadow Vice cackled. He walked over and hung one of his forelegs over Bacoltermann's shoulder. "Believe it or not, he and I used to be on good terms, until his blatant indiscretion."
"Indiscretion? He only wrote to you an observation!" Twilight insisted.
"Yes, but that observation got around, and with us already in possession of Specimen V at the time, that was bad for us. Very inconvenient, indeed."
"You had no right to keep it a secret!"
"Maybe they knew best?" Fluttershy suggested.
"No, Fluttershy, don't you understand?!" Twilight pleaded. "This is a cover up for something really, really dangerous and now they want to jeopardise everything by enlisting Manny here into their scheme!"
"Why it's hardly a scheme, just a... a sound tactical approach to an unpredictable element," Shadow Vice suggested. "Bacoltermann, how do you best sail through a storm?"
"In worst case scenario? You sail for its eye," Bacoltermann replied. "Or you turn back if you are not brave enough to face it."
"And where does that get you?"
"Point 'A'."
"Just so." Shadow Vice walked over to Twilight, looked down on her. "You see, sparkles, we are just trying to maintain our safety nets, if we start walking the line without them, we have nothing to fall back on."
"How is that my problem? This is just wrong!" Twilight growled.
"And you think we should pick up sickle and sheer and hound him down like possessed farmers? Perhaps you would do the honour of carrying the torch? Maybe some nice and friendly lynchers would be more than happy to go on this little good-spirited skin hunt."
"Skin hunt? I am not saying we should go an d... whatever that is supposed to be!" Twilight asserted.
"A skinning is when you take the coat of fur from a dead animal," Bacoltermann said. "The dogs will usually do that, on top of separating the meat from the bone."
"What dogs?"
"Why, the dogs from around here," Shadow Vice said. "Surely you saw the shops?"
Twilight had no idea what the talk was about. Shadow Vice walked for the door and gleefully said:
"Come with me, sparkles, I will show you what Hyde could do to anypony who would dare pursue him."
---
Twilight's voice echoed with threefold effect as each time it was distorted enough to sound like somepony else. If it was her imagination, and she hoped it was, a pale and fleshy talon stretched over the bed corner, counting five separate claws training in on her skin. The bed creaked as a new occupants climbed over it. Twilight cried out again for help as the monster drew nearer. Once again the two eyes, affixed at the front, like the two large eyes of a jumping spider, gazed down upon her, each dotted with the deep void that were the pupils. The pupils shifted from wide to thin, projecting all kinds of emotions from fear, anger, eager and hatred. It closed in and reached for her.
Twilight threw herself backwards, falling out of the bed and hitting her head against a door on the inner corner of the room. Her hind legs would not obey her, the near sleep had left her partially paralysed, and she had lost control of most of her functions. Specimen V adjusted to new ground as it descended the bed. Tall as a horse, or even taller, it stretched out its back once again revealing the length of both arms and legs; it was a bipedal and the distortions that came with it. 'He' resumed its advance.
"Get away!" Twilight cried. She wanted to use her magic, but she could not begin to focus her thoughts.
Twilight turned the handle on the door and it swung inwards revealing a small private restroom. She crawled in and slammed the door shut, taking care to turn the lock. Twilight banged on the walls trying to make as much sound as possible to warn the other ponies, screaming on top of her lungs 'he is here, he is here!"
When the handle turned slowly, Twilight's first response was to press it back upwards not trusting the lock to hold. She did not have the strength to hold for long as she eventually slipped and fell on her back. She quickly recovered and crawled further in towards the innermost wall, and perched atop the toilet.
"Help!" Twilight screamed as the handle turned again.
The lock held but did little to ease Twilight's comfort. Nopony had answered her call, as if either they could not hear her, or she was the last one alive. Was this Hyde, and not Specimen V? The handle turned again, this time quicker than the last. Then it shook and shook more. The door was being pushed and pulled repeatedly and the handle looked like it was going to fall off its frame. The door shaking ceased for a moment; a distinct metal scratching came from the door handle and, to Twilight ’s terror, the handle on her side fell to the floor, revealing a hole in the door.
The door shook once again briefly and the hole rapidly shifted from letting in light and being covered. The monster outside was getting angrier. Twilight began to cry and beg, having no strength to hold in her tears. Her lower body still had not woken up and weighed her down. Twilight hugged the cistern for the cold comfort it could provide as the shaking stopped once again. She shut her eyes for a moment and felt the heavy downpour of tears run down her cheeks. The metal scratching came back and, as Twilight looked to the door, she saw how the lock slowly turned. He was unlocking the door from the other side.
As the door slowly swung open and let in the faint glow of moonlight, the slender, spindly silhouette of Hyde stood by the doorway. He had a poise devoid of doubt , a body free of limits, a face fulminating with passion, and he was, in his very entirety, the darkness. Twilight drew a quick breath and shrieked one last time.
---
"Where are we going?" Twilight asked impatiently.
"These waterfronts were not occupied by ponies first," Bacoltermann said. "Please be aware there are some... cultural diversity around here you would not find much of in Equestria."
"To be sure, this place is a hub of juxtapositions," Shadow Vice joked. "The peaceful, but brash, nature of ponies only matched by the integrity of hounds to o fast in their ways, you'd think we'd skin one another alive, but peace has never been more stable in this land."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Twilight asked.
"Dogs are carnivorous. Do you really expect them to resist the temptation of biting into the juicy flanks of an unwitting prey? They are predators , too, after all," Shadow Vice teased.
Twilight only now noticed the increased presence of dogs who wandered the streets – to be exact, however, it was actually only know she realised they were even there to begin with. They dressed, they socialised, they owned shops; they were civilised as the ponies were. They were so unremarkable, Twilight had not noticed they even existed.
"You see, sparkles," Shadow Vice started. "Hyde scares us, not because he potentially is different from Specimen V, but because both of them exhibit an uninhibited predatory drive." He began to whisper. "The death of Errantworth was a shock to us all."
"I will bet," Black Hoof said.
"But if Specimen V would do this in defence, and Hyde hunts for sport, you must understand why I would be cautious."
"But if dogs hunt, why is that such a big deal?" Twilight asked.
"I will fearlessly walk these streets even with packs of dogs around, because I am under no illusion they pose a threat to me. But Hyde scares me. He has demonstrably turned aggressive toward s ponies. Would you turn your back on something like that?"
"No. That's why I think we have to go public!"
"But that's why I think we should not. What if Hyde is not the only one here? What if Specimen V came back with an army? We only know of Hyde because you have seen him, but there could be more of them yet to reveal themselves. A full scale search will not, cannot end well."
"But what has any of that got to do with what you have to show me?" Twilight demanded.
Shadow Vice stopped.
"Those who are not sensitive can now look right, there is your answer."
Twilight was almost hesitant, her right being obscured by Black Hoof. She squeezed between him and Shadow Vice and saw a squared window of a shop. The name was the first thing that came to attention 'Coffee and Pickle's Quality Quills and Puffy Pelts'. In the window there were many racks with hangers.
"They are all genuine, oh they so are," Shadow Vice said.
On the racks hung dead cut outs of animals; raccoons, squirrels, hares and foxes, and bigger pelts from even boars and mountain lions. It was a gallery of death, and they were displayed as merchandise in a store window. Fluttershy let out a weak peep of fright from the sight and withdrew behind Shadow Vice. Twilight's jaw was agape. She could name many predatory animals and the animals they fed on, and she did not judge them for it; but she had never in her life seen such a practice as hanging the skin of dead animals like sheets on hangers to be sold to interested passer-byes.
"In the name of Celestia..." Twilight tried.
"And what is to say that would not be the fate of those ponies who would dare challenge Hyde?" Bacoltermann muttered.
Shadow Vice muttered: "We can only speculate."
---
The malicious talon of the dark silhouette before Twilight reached forth and was inches away from touching her. He did not need to pass through the threshold, his length more than ample to grab his prey. She could feel the touch upon her cheek as she let out a weak peep, perhaps the last of what she would ever be heard uttering.
"Twilight, why are you screaming?" a mare's voice asked.
Twilight opened her eyes to the dark figure of one previously identified as Night Lily.
"Twilight, who is here? What is it you are hiding from?" Night Lily asked.
Twilight let go of the cistern and hugged the mare and continued her crying, unable to make out the words.
"There, there, let it out. You must have had a nightmare."
"It... it w-was awful!" Twilight cried. "I s-saw i-i-it... the mons-s-ster!"
"Who? What monster?"
"H-Hy-Hyde!" Twilight struggled. "He was standing ov-over there." Twilight pointed to the other side of the bed. "Then he-he came for m-me. I tried to escape b-b-but he came after me."
Night Lily dragged Twilight back to her bed while she tried to finish her account of the events.
"I-I locked myself in the bathroom, b-but he forced the d-d-door open."
"Well somepony certainly did," Night Lily said, confirming the door handle was, in fact, missing. "But if there was any threat here I would have seen it."
"B-but he was j-just about t-t-t-to grab me!" Twilight insisted. "You came j-just as he touched me!"
"That was me, Twilight. You were screaming in the bathroom and I tried to wake you up."
Twilight stopped talking. As she laid on her back on the bed she struggled to control her hyperventilation. Other hooves approached the room and the door swung open.
"Night Lily, oh good you were so quick," Cloud Stride said as he came into the room. "Miss Twilight, you are hurt?"
"She had a nightmare. 'Hyde’ came for her," Night Lily explained.
"Hyde? That Ponyville terror?"
"Yes, I believe that is how Sir Bacoltermann described him."
"He could not have gotten here so fast," Cloud Stride remarked.
"My thought exactly."
As Twilight's breath finally permitted, she sat up and spoke.
"But it was so real. He stood right there and reached down for me. I tried to call for help, but none of you came."
"Miss Twilight," Cloud Stride started, "Night Lily and I here would have seen anything coming in and out. There is no Hyde here." He bent down and looked under the bed. "No, Miss, nothing here."
"Let's get you somewhere better," Night Lily said and presented her hoof.
Black Hoof came waddling through the door and snorted his tiredness.
"Wow, who pissed themselves?" he remarked crudely. "Someone sure had an accident in here."
"Mister, I advice some discretion," Cloud Stride said sternly. "Miss Twilight here just had a terrible nightmare. I daresay night terror, even."
"Oh, is that right? Well my apologies, Twilight. We'll just have the cleaner get to that tomorrow morning."
"Let's get you a hot drink, Twilight," Night Lily said as Twilight grabbed her hoof.
Twilight was more embarrassed than frightened at this point, but the sensitivity of the two bodyguards made her accident easier to handle. As Night Lily led Twilight out of the room and Black Hoof returned to his, Twilight could see Cloud Stride opening the wardrobe before moving over to inspect the window from the opposite side of the room. He let out an understanding 'hmm' and 'huh'. He turned around and audibly nudged the dislodged door handle before letting out another contemplative 'I see'. Twilight stopped a short moment, hoping to hear some cue of his clarity; instead she heard a faint splash followed by an 'oh...'
Twilight hung her head low in reinforced embarrassment as she once again followed Night Lily down the stairs.
In truth she was angry, in truth she was mistrustful, in truth she was not certain what to believe at this point. Princess Celestia looked down upon the small dragon sat atop the back of a horse she had not expected. She had specifically told Spike to come alone, but now he was joined by an unwelcome stranger, and that was what had the princess caught in thought.
--- Earlier ---
Princess Celestia was caught in her reading of a weekly report from the Border Watch. Since its establishment a week after the royal wedding, the princess' duties had come to include a harsh military one. Not much worried about a continued threat from the changelings, the reality of the matter was: with Shining Armour, a unicorn adept in shield magic, gone, Princess Celestia had to come to terms with her own failings in ways she had not typically been forced to. It was only some months more than a year ago that Twilight Sparkle was sent on her mission to make friends and unlock the powers of the Elements of Harmony, and since then the princess had realised just how much power had waned from her.
By no means did she believe herself weak and unfit to rule; a leader was not measured by her prowess, but by the respect she commanded and the goodwill of her people. And that comforted her greatly.
When suddenly an envelope reconstructed itself from ashes, the means which Spike employed to contact her, Princess Celestia laid aside the report. Not to think that a letter was always of greater importance, the fact that an envelope had arrived on her end and not a scroll surprised her. It was also sealed with her royal sigil, but it had already been broken, and a thin, hastily scribbled text said 'Spike read it' on the front of it. She produced the content to find a single page written in a familiar draconic alphabet she had not seen much of for nearly 300 years, and that alone captivated her.
Times Ahead will bring an Unwelcome Stranger, but the Children Bide and Prosper,
Times Ahead will brew Great Disparity, but the Children Bide and Prosper.
That paragraph had less meaning to her than it probably should have. It was vaguely poetic, crude, perhaps, but was ripe with subliminal context. Princess Celestia took a short moment to dissect the paragraph, hoping to make sense of it. But it was well in vain as, despite her greatest effort, it still had no meaning to her. She tried writing the possible definitions of certain words on the same paper with a different colour ink, in the formal Equestrian language; no progress.
--- Now ---
"An 'unwelcome stranger', indeed," Princess Celestia thought as she glanced over the horse a final time.
“This is Pathfinder, Your Highness. I met her just today,” Spike explained.
"I believe we meet on common ground," Pathfinder said. "You do not trust me, yet you yourself are the one between us who exhibit the features a horse would not so proudly walk with."
"Uh, Pathfinder, can we be civil?" Spike asked.
"I had not seen a unicorn until only recently, but winged it was not. I feel I ought to be the one remaining cautious. Still I am regarded with suspicion," Pathfinder remarked with latent hostility.
"Spike, where did she come from?" Princess Celestia asked. "I will have need to know."
"Heaven Over The Azure," Pathfinder replied without giving Spike a chance.
"I have not heard of this place, where is it?"
"I do not know. I am not myself the responsible agent for my arrival. My late master brought me here."
Knowing only the first of few things of the Sky Tyrants, the original speakers of the language that the draconic alphabet was based on, Princess Celestia decided to pry further into the details.
"What do you know of the Sky Curtains?"
"It is the single highest peak of The Veil, where the sun rises and falls," Pathfinder said.
"So you know of it, and where from there is Heaven Over The Azure?"
"It is to the east."
"So beyond conventional reach. What of the Sky Tyrants, what news are there of them?"
Princess Celestia was in honesty not interested.
"A horse would not know."
"Spike, a moment please," Princess Celestia said and walked out to the courtyard.
Spike clumsily slid down the horse's side and scurried after her.
"What's the matter, Your Highness? I know I did a bad thing, but I think it was a good thing I did it."
"Nothing of that, Spike. First I wish to know a few things - and it may seem unrelated."
"Sure thing."
"Where is Twilight Sparkle now?"
"Uh, Trottingham, I think. And Fluttershy is with her."
"I see, what of the others?"
Spike took a short moment before replying.
"Uh, I'm not sure how to say this but... uh, Rainbow Dash has gone missing after a bad encounter with... um, a thing called 'Hyde'. I overheard it just yesterday. The others, I think, are okay..."
"Rainbow Dash... is missing?"
"Yes," the dragon said weakly. "I don't think she's been found yet, at least I have heard nothing of it."
"So I see..."
Princess Celestia looked back to the horse still standing by the staircase in the atrium. Bare as she was, brown with a golden mane - mostly unremarkable despite her size - the princess hoped to see even the slightest twitch of lament in the horse's muscles. Nothing of it.
"What's the matter, Your Highness?" Spike asked.
"Nothing, Spike. What can you tell me about Twilight's journey to Trottingham?"
Spike began to recite the story as he best recalled it, but Princess Celestia was too caught up observing the horse. Pathfinder had no reason to stay where she was, having received no order that forbid her free movement, but the horse had not moved an inch from where she had first been left. It was strange, truly. What was more interesting was the physique of that horse. An impressive display in posture and face that gave no immediate tells. The princess could not help but examine that mare's dimensions.
Pathfinder was of considerable musculature. She had a strong back that ought to have seen much labour. Her legs carrying well the mass upon them could bring her forward at impressive speed, and kick a tree in half should the fruit be out of reach. That neck was thick and strong and held proudly the head mounted upon it. Yet the head itself was mild in comparison. Pathfinder's face was calm, hiding behind soothing eyes a grievous wisdom no pony should wish to possess, aged beyond her years through trauma, but not scarred physically. Her lips and muzzle gave the impression she would have worn an exotic mouthpiece or been bound in rope of sorts, her coat slightly kinked in those parts, perhaps a source of that shallow withdrawal her face projected, an otherwise pretty and welcoming face.
Her coat was well-kept by no means Princess Celestia was herself familiar with, an attentiveness only a close partner would give. Her mane was one of the few true imperfections, hastily braided from ears down to the bottom of her hairline. Her front was free to hang, covering the top of her eyes, far enough down to occasionally tickle the lids when she ran. She had symmetrical braided bangs going in a loop around each ear a single time, hanging as far down as her jaw, thin braids no hoof could manage, but too clumsy to have been made with magic. A similar, but bigger, braid ran down the top of the horse's tail, stopping about a third of the way down, these, however, were nearly immaculate, strangely.
Pathfinder belonged to no equine, certainly, but she was not a free horse. She had a master, somewhere; but the word 'late' implied he, or she, had died - but had yet to let go. But Princess Celestia wanted to know more about that individual. A beautiful horse like Pathfinder had found herself on the doorsteps of royalty, but was unaware of its meaning, so that agent who had brought her here would have been the only prior authority she recognised.
"And that's about all I know, really," Spike finished.
"Very good," Princess Celestia praised, having barely acknowledged a word.
Princess Celestia had not noticed it earlier, but she had subconsciously began approaching the horse still waiting in the atrium, back half turned towards them. The mare's distrust was Princess Celestia's least concern, as the one thing Pathfinder had previously mentioned distrust for, the princess herself, was now free to spring upon her. Spike was not ignorant to this event as he tapped over to intercept the princess.
"Are you alright, Your Highness?" Spike asked. "You're acting a bit strange."
"I'm fine, Spike. Don't worry about me. Worry instead about Rainbow Dash."
"I do, but you keep staring at her, and she might take it the wrong way."
"I need to speak with her. I believe she may know something about Rainbow Dash’s disappearance."
Spike stood silent as Princess Celestia returned back into the atrium. Pathfinder gave her a brief look before affixing her eyes back on the stained glass window.
"That is you, I presume," Pathfinder said, talking about a window illustrating Princess Celestia herself.
"Yes."
"I have never seen anyone create a monument to someone else's honour. No one that was still alive, at least."
"I am a princess, Pathfinder. Do you know what that is?"
The mare shook her head almost coyly.
"I rule this land with my sister, the word 'princess' means I have a royal right to rule this land."
"No one deserves, or have a right, to any land," Pathfinder said abruptly. "You may choose to stay in it, but be prepared to stand your ground in it."
Princess Celestia did not take that as a challenge, if anything she was happy to hear such a view on the world. It showed Pathfinder was from a far removed culture.
"You know this personally," Princess Celestia suggested.
"I have not fought for land, but my late master's people do so daily, or so I would hear."
"They hold a strong landmass, many desire it, I presume."
"Cannot say. A horse should care little for such political dispute. I can eat the grass and I should be content."
"That is an interesting way to see it."
Pathfinder finally turned around for the first time.
"I own nothing of my own, never have I done so. If you wish to fight for your home, you are honouring its value. I have no such home, never have I had one. My life encompassed a single individual - my late master. He's dead now, and that leaves me here, alone."
"You carry a great burden, then," Princess Celestia said.
"I do not grieve, I wept my last tear long ago, when I was just a yearling."
"I am sorry to hear that."
"I am glad to know it."
"Do tell." Princess Celestia stepped even closer to Pathfinder, motherly inviting her to share her story.
"Dragons took everything, and almost me as well. But I did not lose him to their ilk, I lost him to another equine just a day ago. Where do I place my trust then? My kind killed him, the dragons would have killed me. Now I have nothing to protect me, and my own kind saw to it."
"I do not understand," Princess Celestia said. "How did he die? Why?"
"Questions..." the mare grunted. "A striped equine, half my size or less, thought my late master evil and poisoned him as he was defending her and I from fiendish wolves. He succumbed to the poison and fell to his death down a torrential chasm."
"Striped? That sounds like Zecora," Spike remarked, having only just arrived back inside the atrium. "Without the evil... of course."
"I care not for her name," Pathfinder snarled. "I have accepted a new caretaker. She is not half the measure my late master was, but she gives me shelter and a purpose; I asked for no more after my late master's passing."
"Who do you stay with? Where do you stay?" Princess Celestia asked.
"An orchard only a short travel from here, one equine by the name of Applejack."
Somehow Princess Celestia was not surprised to hear that name. Coincidental, perhaps, but it seemed to make sense.
"I labour in her orchard and I have a place to stay. Perhaps one day I will take to the lifestyle, but after seeing a dragon I lost my hopes for security," Pathfinder said.
"Dragons are the least of your concerns in Equestria," Princess Celestia tried to assure.
"Have you ever killed one?" Pathfinder demanded eagerly.
Spike coughed violently.
"No, no I have not," Princess Celestia confessed.
"Then I am not assured."
"Why would I need to kill a dragon? They are wise enough to heed words."
"Yeah," Spike cheered. "Sure, they can be unfriendly, but a little encouragement will win their favour!"
Pathfinder gave the two a sudden spiteful, almost deeply loathing glare.
"Weakness."
"I am sorry, Pathfinder, but violence is not a solution to a problem," Princess Celestia lectured.
"You will swallow those words one day, tyrant, heed these words."
"What did you call her?" Spike asked.
"I know what she is. A tyrant, but masks the word with an invented one; 'princess'" Pathfinder said mockingly. "But she is a coward. My master would die before bowing to a dragon's pleasure. He felled a juvenile that tried to eat me, I saw with my own eyes. Tell me, then, that words would have saved me!"
Princess Celestia was hesitant to form a response. In truth, despite her disinclination to admit it, Pathfinder was making a solid argument. Words would not have stopped a dragon from killing her if it wanted to, violence, however, would have, but only with the dragon's death would it have stopped that dragon from trying again another day. She was not used to being cornered in a debate, but that is where she stood.
"A wooden shed cannot stop a fire, it cannot survive the thrashing, and an equine is not best suited to fight its predators. A dragon bound for my flesh will not leave me at ease, least of all when I know no one can protect me from it," Pathfinder asserted
"I am firm in my ways, Pathfinder, but I will admit you speak truly. A dragon would not let words steal his meal, but dragons here eat gemstones, not horses."
"But they still breathe fire and demonstrate violence."
"You will not live to see such an attack, I promise."
Pathfinder laughed sarcastically.
"I will hold you to those words. My people frown upon lies more than murder. Truth tainted by hope will guide no one to prosperity. I will bide, but if you break your promise, I will hold you personally accountable."
Spike let escape a cocky laugh, but Princess Celestia scolded him for it.
"I will be true to my word, but I wish to trade that promise for something of yours," Princess Celestia said.
"I am listening."
"One creature named Hyde has taken one of my subjects, a pegasus named Rainbow Dash. What do you know of that?"
"What could she possibly know?" Spike asked.
"Hyde is a familiar name, but I am afraid I have never heard of a pegasus before."
"It is a winged equine, like myself, but they do not have horns."
Pathfinder thought for a moment. She rolled her eyes and scratched the carpet.
"A blue equine, had many colours in her mane, hasty and thoughtless. She called him Hyde, and she attacked him. I know of whom you speak."
"Is she dead?" Princess Celestia asked.
"I do not know. Hyde was the greater intrigue," Pathfinder riddled. "I followed him, he is... different."
"How different?"
"That depends most so. I believe we are settling a trade. Knowledge is my only tender, so what of it will you take?"
Princess Celestia looked to Spike and nodded. He appeared to agree with her coming decision.
"If you aid in the search for Rainbow Dash, I guarantee your safety from the dragons."
"It is a fair trade."
"When can you soonest begin?" Princess Celestia asked.
"Anon, no sense is delaying."
"Then I will leave you in the hooves you already reside with," the princess said and readied her magic.
In a flash Pathfinder was gone and Spike gasped at the implications.
"I have sent her to Sweet Apple Acres, Spike, but I need you to stay here. We have much to talk about, you and I."
"Talk of what?" Spike asked.
"The Sky Tyrants."
Princess Celestia looked up at the starlit sky.
"Well, let's start then, Your Highness."
"Not now, Spike. Sleep, and we will start tomorrow."
Despite the dreary darkness and the near isolation from any resemblance of safety, fright was not an issue for the two explorers. On a hunt to find the bottom of the rainbow - no easy feat considering there were none to be seen and it was night time - the question of what could be found there was strangely never addressed. Having only barely convinced her friend Sweetie Belle to sneak out into the night with her, Scootaloo was absolutely certain there was something important she had to find on this journey; she simply did not know what.
"Scootaloo, what are we looking for now again?" Sweetie Belle asked.
"For the hundredth time, I don't know!" Scootaloo scolded.
Sweetie Belle, being the scared one of the two, whimpered quietly. Sure, Scootaloo had led them into a dark forest in the middle of no-ponies-land as far as she could tell, but she had a good feeling about it. Scootaloo thought back to the dream she had had that first inspired her to go on this journey.
She had been hugging the sky-blue feather a grey pegasus had given her that night when she suddenly fell into a shallow sleep. In her dream she saw herself running from a shining trove and through the forest, eventually ending up in Sweet Apple Acres where Winona had attacked her. That trove, however, was something Scootaloo was very interested in. If she could find it and tell Rainbow Dash about it then they would have a reason to hang out more, now that Rainbow Dash had opened up to the whole adventuring fantasy, what with all the reading she had been doing.
"We're looking for treasure," Scootaloo said. "I am pretty sure that's what it was."
"What?" Sweetie Belle asked, having seemingly forgotten what was being answered.
"Urgh... never mind, then."
The two fillies had fallen one crusader short as Apple Bloom had neither the permission nor courage for late night explorations. She had said something about 'Hyde coming back' but Scootaloo was not really buying into such babble.
"Hey, Scootaloo, you think Hyde's still around?" Sweetie Belle asked.
Scootaloo rolled her eyes, losing focus on the trail long enough to walk into a tree.
"Ouch... no, no I don't think he's around anymore," Scootaloo growled as she rubbed her forehead.
"Why, you scared?"
"Shouldn't I be?"
"We'll be fine, just don't talk too loud."
Sweetie Belle moaned with discomfort.
"Okay, listen here," Scootaloo started before jumping at her friend. Sweetie Belle tried to yelp, but Scootaloo covered her mouth. "Shush! There are patrolling pegasi above the trees! If they find us we will never find that treasure!"
There were three adult pegasi in the sky; what they were looking for was a mystery.
"Are they looking for Hyde?"
"Doubt it, I bet that Hyde is quite a hoof-full," Scootaloo replied. "Probably just patrolling for good measure."
Sweetie Belle pulled at the blue feather Scootaloo wore around her neck.
"Hey, watch it, that is Rainbow Dash's!" Scootaloo scolded.
"Where did you get it?"
"Some grey mare gave it to me; forgot her name... Harpy, Darpy - something."
"Why would she give you her feather?"
"How should I know? She could barely speak, but she said it was for me."
The patrolling pegasi flew passed them once again.
"Let's get out of here before they notice us."
The two fillies crawled through the vegetation with much effort as the vines closed in closer to the trees.
"Wow, somepony really need to give this place a sweep," Scootaloo joked. "I mean, really? How hard would it be to just trim this place down a notch."
Sweetie Belle giggled at the notion before suddenly stopping.
"What's the matter?" Scootaloo asked.
"Didn't you hear that?"
"No, what was it?"
"It was like the heaviest stomping of hooves I've ever heard." Sweetie Belle walked past a few trees. "It came from there."
Scootaloo had to squint to catch it: the silhouette of the biggest pony she had ever seen.
"Wow, look at that!" Scootaloo exclaimed through her teeth. "What do you suppose he's up to?"
The silhouette stopped briefly and glanced practically right at the two fillies but did not stay long. It resumed its marching through the forest.
"Let's go home now, I'm scared," Sweetie Belle complained.
"No way, we're getting close!"
Scootaloo headed further out and suddenly found herself out in the open.
"Oopsie..."
"Hey, somepony's down there!" a voice yelled from above. "A filly!"
"What's she doing out now? Get her, it's too dangerous!" another one said.
Scootaloo ran for the nearby bushes trying not to get caught. Small as she was she did not reach any formidable speed, but her lack of bulk made her dive into the vegetation an easy transition.
"Darn it! I missed her!" one of the pegasi yelled.
What would come of Sweetie Belle was of no real concern, though it was a shame to lose her here. Once she was caught she would be taken back to Ponyville, no doubt, and get a thorough scolding from her parents. Scootaloo had to find that shining trove, and now she was running out of time.
Strange tendrils of multi-coloured lights emerged from behind her, almost guiding her to her mark. It was strange, but Scootaloo first pretended she was just seeing things - until she realised she was, in fact, seeing things. The tendrils lit up the traversable ground as she galloped through the forest and avoided every possible slip. As if a guiding spirit was showing her the way to her goal, the tendrils twisted and twined as they led her through the forest on the safest route she could hope to find.
She could hear the flapping of wings above her, but, thanks to the heavily weaved together branches above, no pegasus would be descending past those treetops any time soon. Once out in another opening Scootaloo had become an easy target. The pegasi were ready for descent and aimed at intercept trajectory. Rushing with exhilarating adrenaline Scootaloo began skipping with each step, trying to reach the next bush. A narrow dodge saved her from running into one of the pegasi landing in front of her, and a swift jump to the side distanced her from another one. She was back under the trees and the tendrils, which had briefly faded, were once again guiding her.
"Pegasi don't have magic," Scootaloo thought to herself, "do they?"
She met a sudden end over a steep fall and bravely slid down to avoid breaking her momentum. Scootaloo could no longer hear the pegasi; she was safe. The tendrils slid behind her as she finally stopped, clearly only showing themselves when she was on the move.
"Thank you, guiding spirit," Scootaloo whispered.
Almost carelessly trotting through the more open space she had found, the last thing on her mind was danger. Scootaloo would wander for a while to familiarise herself with her surroundings before she recognised a particularly crooked tree. She approached it and inspected its various angles, trying to remember which direction her dream self had approached it from. Once she pin-pointed her next destination she joyfully cantered to the place her shining trove would be found in, and she was getting very close.
"I think she must be here somewhere," a voice from above the treetops said.
"Shoot!"
Scootaloo sneaked over to the nearest mound and lay down behind it. She could see an opening at the far distance. If she made too much noise there would be no way for her to outmanoeuvre the adults this time; the space was too open. Two pegasi landed not far away from the opening and began inspecting the shadows of the trees.
"Aw, that's so lame..." Scootaloo whined.
"It is a fine thing to brave the world, young one; heed only danger as it comes, and leap at the sight of it," a deep, feminine voice said.
Scootaloo jumped from the sudden realisation somepony had snuck up behind her. Before she could look behind herself a loud thud that almost shook the earth Scootaloo sat on placed a gargantuan pony just right next to her.
"Shh---," the stranger urged. "You do not want them to see us, do you?"
"Who are you?" Scootaloo whispered.
"My name is Pathfinder. I am looking for Rainbow Dash." The horse leaned in teasingly at the frightened filly. "Have you seen her?"
"... No?"
"That is too bad. I thought a filly like you, who wears a feather much like hers would have known where she might be."
"I only know she's missing, but that's what the search patrols are for, right?"
"Yes, you are trusting that they will be successful."
"Rainbow Dash is tough, she's been through worse," Scootaloo asserted.
"I believe you. Your 'princess' seemed to think highly of her."
"Princess Celestia?"
"Yes, young one, her I met just this night. She asked me to look for Rainbow Dash."
"So you are going to find her?" Scootaloo asked eagerly.
"You already did, brave adventurer."
Scootaloo looked at the mound before her. It was winged and had a roughed up coat of blue and a multicoloured mane.
"Rainbow Dash!" Scootaloo yelled. "You, it was you I saw in my dream! You're the treasure!"
Rainbow Dash was still as a stone. Scootaloo gave her a wild shake.
"Rainbow Dash, hello? It's me! Scootaloo! We're here to get you home!"
"Pathfinder, what have you there?" one of the pegasi asked.
"We have found her," Pathfinder replied. "We must take her home."
Scootaloo kept shaking the lifeless pegasus to no effect.
"Why isn't she waking up?" Scootaloo asked. "She's fine, right?"
Pathfinder did not reply.
"C'mon, Dash, wake up!"
The two pegasi approached Rainbow Dash and took a side each.
"On my back now," Pathfinder directed.
Carefully the pegasi moved Rainbow Dash over onto Pathfinder's back, and the great mare slowly stood up.
"I am sorry, young one, but I fear she will not awake."
"C'mon, she's fine! Just give her a good push! She's a deep sleeper, that's all!"
"Now, now, Scootaloo, let us take it from here," one of the pegasi said.
Pathfinder moved out into the clearing and Scootaloo followed closely after. Out there Sweetie Belle was being closely guarded by the third pegasus who had stopped following Scootaloo.
"Thunderlane, we have her."
"Really? Oh, thank Celestia. How is she, Cloudette?" Thunderlane asked.
"Worse for wear... she's not waking up," Cloudette replied.
"Aww..."
--- Ponyville ---
Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were under Pathfinder's supervision outside the Ponyville hospital. They were waiting for their families to pick them up.
"Why can't we just go home on our own?" Scootaloo complained.
"Heed your elders, young one," Pathfinder said.
"Aw, come on, you're just laying there and practically sleeping!" Scootaloo yelled. "Why do we have to be picked up?"
"Don't question the authority, young one," Pathfinder repeated calmly.
"My name is Scootaloo; stop calling me 'young one!'"
"Yeah, I mean, Rarity will come soon enough, but what good is it if she picks me up here instead of half-way?" Sweetie Belle tried to reason.
Pathfinder gave Sweetie Belle a sudden impatient glare and the filly fell silent. Picking a fight with a horse was probably not a very good idea.
"Sweetie Belle, there you are!" Rarity cried out as she came cantering up the road to the hospital.
"Rarity, we found Rainbow Dash!" Sweetie Belle exclaimed as a clear diversion to what was probably an incoming lecture.
"What? Really?!"
Pathfinder nodded her head slowly but remained silent.
"Where? How? Is she alright?" Rarity shook her head and bit her sister by the ear. "No, never mind, we're taking you home, and I will see to her later!"
"Ow, ow, Rarity, it hurts!" Sweetie Belle complained.
"You deserve punishment, young filly!" Rarity growled as she dragged her sister away into the night.
"She has a good handle for raising her daughter," Pathfinder remarked. "My mother should only have been so disciplined."
"That's her sister, y'know," Scootaloo corrected.
"Hmh, I suppose she looked a little small to be a mother."
"What happened to Dash anyway? Why was she like that?"
Pathfinder shut her eyes and began to mutter in an unintelligible language.
"Hello? Are you even listening to me?"
Pathfinder continued for a while before finally looking back at Scootaloo.
"I cannot say now, little one, but I fear the worst."
"What do you mean?" Scootaloo asked.
"I will ask that whatever comes, you will not dwell on the consequences that may have resulted in this past event. Rainbow Dash will not want to be mourned and then break those who loved her."
"I don't get it. Are you saying Dash is going to -..."
"Do not think of it," Pathfinder interrupted. "I have already fought so hard to leave my sorrows behind, and I will ask of you to do the same and stay young until it is your time to grow up."
Scootaloo distanced herself from the mare.
"No, just no. What are you trying to do anyway?" Scootaloo demanded. "I don't need to hear that, Dash is fine!"
"Don't let blind optimism cloud what is real. Live now and look only forward."
"Well maybe I don't like now! How about that?" Scootaloo challenged. "Besides, I look forward all the time!"
"And should the worst come?"
"What?"
"And what if you do not like what comes?"
"C'mon, you just told me not to think about the bad stuff! You're just saying the opposite of what you were saying before!"
"But you are listening to me," Pathfinder asserted.
"I don't need you to act like my mother. I don't want you to act like you're my mother!"
Pathfinder stood up and closed the distance.
"Learn from my experience, young Scootaloo. You do not want to become like me and grow up before your time."
"Oh, drop it will you?!" Scootaloo yelled and turned around. "I'm going now! I don't care what they said, I can take care of myself!"
Scootaloo cantered off into the darkness and left the horse to blabber her nonsense to herself. Not strictly offended, but Scootaloo was still nerved by what had been said; angry, mostly. She did not like to think about what might happen to Rainbow Dash, but she would not be able to find out tonight even if she stayed.
Twilight sat alone in the dining room wallowing in both self-pity and shame. She could have sworn either Hyde or Specimen V had attacked her last night, but there was simply no way she could convince anypony that this was the case. Night Lily walked into the room wearing not her armour, but a lavender cotton night gown, embroidered with two badges: a sun, and a moon. She walked past Twilight up to the window that bled in sunlight over the miserable unicorn and pulled the curtains. Then she sat down next to her.
"I want us to talk about last night," Night Lily said.
"What is there to say? I embarrassed myself completely!" Twilight whined. "How can I even look at the others now? Black Hoof probably told them everything."
"Black Hoof is very discrete, despite yesterday's... tactless remark. He was just grumpy having been woken up."
"What about the rest? They would have found out by now."
"No, no they have not. They only know what Cloud Stride told them: you had a nightmare." Night Lily held Twilight's chin and forced eye-contact. "We are very sympathetic, and we will not let this burden you."
"... Thank you..." Twilight mumbled.
"And Could Stride will do well to learn about these... accidents early. He will be a father soon," Night Lily said and smiled.
"Really? And who?" Twilight asked, just then remembering what Bacoltermann had said. "You?"
Night Lily got off the chair and pulled her night gown over her wing, revealing her belly. Twilight had not paid too much attention to either of the bodyguards before, but Night Lily was considerably rounder around the belly than most. She was definitely pregnant.
"What about your job? Should you really be working now?" Twilight asked, more concerned for Night Lily and the unborn foal’s safety than the prospect of a new life.
"I will take a break eventually, but for now I can still work."
Twilight placed her hoof on Night Lily's belly hoping to feel a movement.
"I had a thought," Twilight started.
"Yes?"
"When I saw... that thing... in the back of my head I could not stop thinking about what Shadow Vice had told us."
"And what was that?"
"The dogs here in the Waterfronts? Why do they sell the skin of dead animals?"
Night Lily let out an amused chuckle.
"Why, they find the skins decorative, others use them to make clothes. There are many uses, I hear, of the skin of animals."
"Aren't you worried that one day a dog might take a pony's skin?"
"No, I can't say that thought has occurred to me."
Twilight sighed.
"I was scared that was what was going to happen to me. When he reached for me, the only thing I could think about was that he was going to take my skin. That thought hasn't left me yet."
Night Lily hugged Twilight.
"Twilight, don't worry. You are safe, nothing is going hurt you or do something so horrible to you. Okay?" Night Lily assured.
"I'm just trying to stop thinking about it."
"Nothing, monster or not, is going to find you and hurt you. I can promise you. Unless the dogs suddenly run out of fish," she joked.
---
How Pilgrim had done it was beyond comprehension. After a brief glimpse of the back of the colt's head, the colt Coco Sweet had identified as Skipper - the friend whom she shared a project with - just before he disappeared in a transport, Pilgrim had come back the following morning in possession of a pinch of hairs. Identical in colour to the colt's mane, it was almost certain Pilgrim had managed to track him down and brought evidence of his find.
"He did this for me?" Coco Sweet asked.
"How should I know? He just disappeared last night and came back this morning," Trixie replied as she vigorously rubbed her wet mane with the towel. "What gets me is how Pilgrim here could not just wait one bucking second to show me this but walked right into the shower with me!" Trixie threw the towel at Pilgrim. "Dry yourself up, you're wetting down the carpet!"
Pilgrim caught the towel but tossed it aside without as much as looking at it.
"But if he knows where Skipper is, maybe I can go see him before your show tonight!"
"Hang on, just one second," Trixie said. "You are in the company of 'scary pony' here, what if he brought you the wrong hair? What if he did something?"
"I'm sure he isn't that crazy."
Trixie grunted.
"Let's eat breakfast and then be off."
The typical hotel breakfast of assorted toast with toppings, soup, juices and oatmeal did much to soothe Trixie's near insatiable hunger. She would have thought she had developed an eating disorder to deal with the stress of knowing Pilgrim was a killer. What got to her, however, was how Pilgrim was not touching any of the foods available, not even drinking the water.
"You need your strength, big boy!" Trixie said and passed over the bowl of oatmeal. "Eat up, you have a long and hard day ahead of you."
"Maybe he's not hungry?" Coco Sweet suggested.
"Nonsense! They sun is shining like a blast furnace today, so he needs to stay hydrated," Trixie said and took her glass of water. She held it up over Pilgrim's face using her magic and manually held his head backwards. "Open wide, here flows Neighagara Falls!"
There was not only a few faces turning to see the spectacle as Trixie ran water down Pilgrim's maw like a overbearing lover, no amount of his coughing or spitting deterred her from continuing as she thought back to yesterday's horror.
"That's for what you did to me yesterday," Trixie said as she let out a frustrated cackle.
After the glass ran empty Pilgrim leaned over the table and coughed wildly.
"It's just water sweetie, you need your strength!"
Coco Sweet ducked under the table to seem uninvolved.
"C'mon now, you finished your breakfast?" Trixie asked.
Coco Sweet shook her head before diving deeper under the table.
"What's the matter? Need me to feed you too?"
Trixie only now realised how erratic her behaviour was, not at all what she would normally be like. She sat down slowly and laid aside the glass. She knocked Pilgrim on the back to help clear his throat without saying anything. Whatever had gotten into her was beyond her own comprehension. As Pilgrim's coughing finally ended Trixie resumed her breakfast, ever so embarrassed over the poor show she had given.
"I will ask Pilgrim to show us where Skipper is... once we finished our breakfast. Okay?"
---
The morning was grim indeed as Valkon's awakening was not one by the warden, but by a mysterious masked man dressed to kill. For reasons unknown to him, he could not muster the strength to speak, let alone call for help. The masked man rested one foot on the bed and his elbow over that leg's knee as he inspected, almost condescendingly, the child before him.
"I find you at last," the man said almost whispering. "You were easy to track. Only the justiciars hindered my search."
Valkon shook his head to make sure he was awake.
"I was named Marksman, and I need you to speak."
Valkon sighed as no sign of improvement was on display. He knocked his head against the wall to make a racket but found that too had been accounted for.
Lay still.
Valkon was immobilised before he could come around for another knock, good thing too considering how much the first time had hurt, but the man before him was perhaps the last thing Valkon wanted to see: a loather.
"Near now a twenty or so cycles it would be since that loather left these lands. Just like the enforcer I have need of the exact details surrounding your encounter, and a few witnesses will not suffice as much as your own personal account. So I am here for you to tell me exactly what happened that time."
Valkon rolled his eyes, about the only measure of control he had left over his body by now.
"Now I too will abstain questions, not out of principle, but out of inability to word them. You understand this."
The loather observed how Valkon did nothing.
You are free.
Valkon kicked off from the wall and launched himself onto the floor before struggling to get up on his feet. He had hoped for a swift escape, like those of his younger days when he could still climb a tree if he wanted to, but before he could even place a knee firmly on the floor his chin was raised by the edge of a sword.
"You are predictable, clumsy and have no means to escape me," the loather remarked.
Valkon examined the blade and felt an itch at the sight of such sharpness.
"You will stand up."
Valkon stood up slowly, with the blade following barely a hair's width away from his throat.
"I can tell you nothing," Valkon lied.
"You lie," the loather said.
"You do not know that."
"I am enlightened."
"I will say nothing I have not told the enforcer."
"I know otherwise, farfarer."
The loather sheathed his sword and threw a small hair-spun satchel onto the table, which clangered with the rustling of metal bits. The door swung open and the warden came in with a tray of food. He placed it on the table just past the satchel and looked at Valkon.
"Up before I awoke you, I see you are becoming a child again."
"I am coming to terms with my situation. I will see myself renewed before long," Valkon said.
"This satchel," the warden said and held it up, "it does not belong here."
"It was thrown in through the window," Valkon lied.
The warden opened it up and emptied the contents onto the table. In there were coins of varying values. The warden appeared disinterested and he dropped the satchel.
"Eat up. A justiciar will be here before long. You will expect no visitors today."
Valkon almost choked on his saliva upon hearing that statement. The loather was right behind the warden, yet he had not been noticed.
"Deal with that throat, we will have no illness take you during the growth," the warden said as he walked out of the room.
The loather walked over to the door and shut it.
"He did not see you..." Valkon tried.
"No action of mine, I assure you. Just as I know how to track others, I know how to avoid detection."
"He must have seen you. You bribed him!" Valkon insisted.
"No, a loather deals not in coin."
"Yet you have them!" Valkon yelled and pointed at the table. "They came from your satchel!"
The loather raised Valkon up from his chair by the collar and held him in place.
"I know not of possessing coin, farfarer. I will not begrudge you claim them as yours should you indulge me with the truth of your story; a 'bribe' as you call it."
Valkon was hesitant to continue.
"I have observed the house arrest,” the loather continued. “Two more cycles and you will be let out. Consider my appearance a courtesy before I force the information out of you now, or then."
"I want to know the importance of this loather," Valkon said.
"A commissar does not leave the Culling Grounds without explanation. I want to know where that commissar is headed."
"That loather was a commissar...?"
There was no real damage in telling the truth here. A commissar was only a figure of relevance to the inhabitants of the Culling Grounds, a leader-figure who ensured total compliance to their ways. But then it was also good Valkon had not told the enforcer where he had sent this loather, as commissars were highly vilified by the justiciars. It was a strange matter, as anyone with a political inclination would realise the two were one and the same. Only now a commissar was a target for the justiciars, and if a commissar was ever to be captured or killed... there would be all hell's reckoning upon the people housing the perpetrator.
Valkon took a deep breath. He would spend some time explaining the event in great detail with many reiterations on the points that were the most important to him, and he would be careful not to omit anything he had previously kept a secret. This loather, though Valkon could not readily recall what he had said his name was, would be the only man he would tell this story before he left it behind. Valkon wanted to return home, so better a loather knew the whole truth than a justiciar placate the nobles for nought but a nag in return; and the potential uprising of the Culling Grounds. When the story was told the loather only nodded.
What Valkon had not said, however, is what manner of creature inhabited the lands to where he had sent the commissar.
---
Everypony had gathered around the table and breakfast was being served by Black Hoof and Bacoltermann themselves.
"I thought somepony like you would have butlers and maids for this," Shady Daze said.
"What's the point? I barely have visitors as it is, and when I do I meet them by the gates," Bacoltermann explained.
"Besides, it’s a wasted effort when nopony in town likes you anyway," Black Hoof joked.
Once everypony was seated and well into their breakfasts, Bacoltermann decided to break the silence by addressing Twilight.
"Twilight, about last night..."
"I don't want to talk about it," Twilight said.
"Yes, yes, of course. But I am a deep sleeper and missed what happened."
"I don't want to talk about it, I said," Twilight repeated.
"Okay, but to get this straight. Whatever you saw was, in fact, in my home. If you don't say anything, and you were right, you would be putting me in danger. You understand?"
Twilight groaned loudly.
"Fine!" Twilight yelled. "I was trying to sleep when suddenly my lower body became paralysed, that's when I saw Hyde, or Specimen V, or whoever it was, and he tried to grab me! I crawled into the private bathroom and cried like a little foal while hugging the toilet! Oh, and guess what!? I had an accident! There, you happy now?!"
Silence befell the table again.
"I... did not... know that last part..." Bacoltermann said. "... I'm sorry."
Twilight hit her face against the table a rough three times having just told everypony what she was feeling so miserable over. Worse still, Black Hoof had not told any pony, so she was her own snitch.
"Just let me die here..." Twilight whined.
"Actually, what you said may be enough for me to move my decision to a more urgent matter," Bacoltermann started. "Everypony gathered here, I have an announcement!"
Twilight kept her face firmly planted onto the table.
"Twilight is right in being concerned. While I firmly believe Specimen V is out of our hooves I think Hyde is still out there somewhere. We just need to find him. He was last seen in Ponyville, so I will begin my search there."
"What?" Twilight thought.
"So what will you do when you find him?" Black Hoof asked.
"I don't know. That's the best part," Bacoltermann replied. "I imagine I will observe him through a telescope if I can."
"How will that help?" Shady Daze asked.
"Well I might take a few pictures to document my studies, but fact of the matter is: we don't really need them. Specimen V would have given us enough to work with."
"But aren't you scared?" Fluttershy asked.
"No fear, little filly, I am only scared of two things: masts and drunken sailors; the former I've fallen down from and had fall on me many times, and the latter I've been bottled by more times than I can remember. A predator is the least of my worries."
"Until he gets hungry," Black Hoof joked.
"I'll bring some fish," Bacoltermann laughed.
Such a joke appeared to circulate around the Waterfronts where the dogs were considered safe so long as they still had fish in the sea. Twilight found the joke in poor taste, but even Fluttershy appeared to see the humour in it.
"Or if push comes to shove, I'll get really drunk and write another observation to the college."
Black Hoof burst out into laughter and hammered the table with his hooves. The others joined in without the exaggeration whilst Twilight bit down the table cloth to withhold her irritability. She was about ready to throw a punch at the old stallion for making tasteless jokes about dangerous things and not acknowledging the fact that at least two ponies were currently at risk of death.
"But that brings me to an important point, and this is for each of you; Daze, you are exempt by virtue of being too young," Bacoltermann said.
"Aww," the colt complained.
"What is each of your opinions about Hyde? I want to get a sense of what to expect from you all."
There was a brief silence.
"I feel it best we approach him cautiously. Perhaps by some measure of civility to break the barriers," Cloud Stride said.
"I believe you should bring a bottle, just in case. If everything is fine, pop the cork, if not... well, you know what a bottle can be used for," Night Lily said.
"Thanks, I will remember that," Bacoltermann sighed.
"Why don't you try a simple approach? Try to say 'hi' and see if he responds," Fluttershy started, "if you try to be nice, maybe we can appeal to his better nature?"
Twilight groaned.
"I think Twilight has another idea," Black Hoof remarked, though he himself had yet to voice an opinion.
"By all means, you go first," Twilight insisted.
"Fine, I say go head on. Each of these ideas put into one: you've got yourself a package, right there."
"Well that saves me time," Bacoltermann agreed.
"Now you," Black Hoof said, addressing Twilight.
Twilight took a deep breath and sat up straight.
"Fluttershy," she started.
"Yes?"
"Hyde killed Winona."
Fluttershy whimpered.
"He then also tried to kill somepony else, and hospitalised Black Hoof's daughter."
Black Hoof snorted.
"He also spirited away Rainbow Dash."
Cloud Stride and Night Lily leaned in on one another.
"Then where would he go from there? I don't see him taking it down a notch any time soon! Maybe he has a better side, one where he kindly donates the skin of our dead friends to some freezing beggar on the street!" Twilight slammed her hoof on the table. "What here is so hard to grasp?! This is not a bully we can turn into a new friend; I remember Gilda well enough from when I only just arrived, and her worst crime was theft and harassment as I heard it! Hyde. Kills. Us!"
Twilight sat down and snorted her anger while everypony stared in silence. She was content with not giving an input on how Hyde would best be approached. Truthfully: with a wooden stake and a torch would have been her suggestion.
---
So surreal was it to see Pilgrim, a pony traversing on his hind legs, navigate completely uncaring of his surroundings, and the lack of care it had of him. Trixie could not get her eyes off him as she tried to keep up with his high pace. Coco Sweet had clear difficulty moving around and Trixie would often stop to help her along, which meant Pilgrim would run far ahead before stopping to wait for them.
"Are you alright?" Trixie asked. "Did you have too much breakfast?"
"No, I'm fine. How much longer do you think?"
"I don't know. He just runs ahead and I try to keep up."
"But if he really knows where Skipper is, we have to find him," Coco Sweet said.
"I know, I know. I'm just wondering how exactly he managed to track down one colt in a giant city. He only got a short glimpse of him anyway. Nopony is that good at tracking."
"He has some secrets from his homeland, I think. He's kind of scary even on that note alone."
"You mean like the bloodbath?" Trixie asked.
A few ponies stopped to listen in having heard Trixie mention that word.
"Oh, never mind us. We're just talking."
One of the stallions let out a disappointed 'Hmph' as he continued along the road.
"Not quite like that... though you are right. That was... scary."
Pilgrim grew visibly impatient and he began tapping his hoof on the side walk.
"Fine, fine! We're coming!" Trixie yelled. "Would it kill you to slow down a little?"
Before they managed to catch up Pilgrim had turned and resumed his march.
"I guess so..."
A murderous head hunter, to be sure, Pilgrim possessed an admirably high will to comply with requests, though a fondness for speed beyond convention, but Trixie feared he might be guiding them into the biggest misunderstanding she could imagine; what had actually become of Skipper when Pilgrim found him? The more Trixie thought about it the more sick she felt, especially since she had made a fool of herself this very morning. Now she worried she had not only made a fool out of herself, but perhaps allowed somepony to get killed.
The nausea kicked in like the hardest buck to the back of her head she had ever felt. As she caught up with an impatient Pilgrim she tripped over another pedestrian and fell to the pavement. She could hear a high-pitched ring from the back of her head and suddenly the rolling of wagon wheels as if she had already been shipped off in the corpse cart. Her consciousness faded and she could faintly hear Coco Sweet calling for her. The last thing Trixie could discern was Pilgrim's eyes, now different from before. Not just grey but pearly, shining like the stars in the void, and he looked down on her, watching her as she sank into deep slumber.
---
Trixe laid on her back watching the blue leafed white trees. The sky was a deep red now and an ominous orb of black gathered at the very centre. It felt heavy as a massive weight of guilt pressed her down, she did not know where it came from. She looked to one hoof which was empty and then to the other which was stained in black and red. The same hoof had next to it a sharp rock, stained much the same way.
Trixie sluggishly climbed up on her fours and saw how the entire circle of grass around her had reddened, as if the sky itself had rained blood upon it. It smelled of iron and fear and it made Trixie tremble.
Slowly and unsteadily Trixie turned around to where she remembered the small pond running. There was no dripping noise of a pond being filled, nor could she hear any seeps of water escaping. As she turned around she saw that the pond's centre was polluted with a dark substance and it was slowly spreading to the corners of the pond. By the edge of the pond was that figure again. Her friend.
Trixie walked up to her friend and inspected. The mane was partially submerged in the pond and was being discoloured by the pollution of the water. Trixie tried to push the friend away before realising that the friend was not responding to contact.
"Are you okay?" Trixie asked.
The eyes were dead open and pale. The veins were clearly visible in the corners and the mouth agape without resistance. Lifeless as a corpse it was.
Her friend was dead.
Trixie look at her stained hoof.
"I did this?"
She could hear hectic breathing from behind herself and slowly turned to look. The spindly, shadowy figure of a life-like tree stood where Trixie had woken up, clutching the rock that had laid beside her. The figure's chest pumped with irregular intervals and occasional whines would escape from a mouth not immediately visible. It was a terrifying creature to behold, but it resonated with the lament and sorrow few had ever felt as whines and moans warped with the effect of being drowned in tears and snot.
The spindly figure let out an ear-splitting cry as the surrounding area flashed intensely and blinded Trixie.
"It is here where I will begin the story," Princess Celestia said to the little dragon as she led him into the study. "It is almost as it was yesterday that the first emissary arrived on that mountain top." She pointed out the window to the highest peak of the mountain.
"The Sky Tyrants?"
"Yes, Spike."
Princess Celestia raised a stone tablet resting against the wall and placed it on the table in the middle of the study.
"I trust you can recognise some of these characters," the princess said.
Spike walked over to and climbed up the table. He examined the tablet for a long time before replying.
"I know a few," he said. "That one there is the letter for 'k' and any 'ke' or 'ko' syllables. That one and this one are 'a' and 'e' vowels."
"But can you deride meaning from this tablet?"
"Umm..."
Unable to vocalise what he thought it said, Princess Celestia did so for him.
"To hold not a single precious moment sacred, but to live each future with gratitude - the will of the world, onto us beings of the world - we arise to the highest peak and gaze upon the beauty of the lands, feed off its fruits, until we die; whence we then fall and the land shall feed upon us. This beauty, this eternal circle."
"That... doesn't make any sense," Spike said.
"The Sky Tyrants led a strong existential philosophy. They believed the world was a god of its own, to be heeded and worshipped," Princess Celestia said.
"They sound like nice enough dragons..."
"If only it was so."
"What does that mean?"
Princess Celestia returned the tablet to the corner of the room and produced a quiver of scrolls.
"I documented many of my encounters into these papers. Perhaps they are the closest things I've owned resembling a modern day diary, but they are important now that I see the need of them."
"So the Sky Tyrants weren't very nice guys, then?"
"No, Spike. I wish I could tell you otherwise."
The princess rolled out one scroll on the table and Spike was taken aback by the sheer length of it.
"This is amongst the first accounts of my meetings with one of the Sky Tyrants, an emissary."
"That must have been one long meeting."
"I will begin reading; mind this all leads up to a war."
Spike listened carefully as the princess began to recite the contents of the scroll.
---
"Keep all windows closed, lock any door you don't use and, above all else..." Bacoltermann started.
"Do not let your son come inside?" Cloud Stride finished.
"Very good."
Twilight was about ready to board the train when somepony tapped her on the hip. It was Poncey holding an envelope of considerable size and thickness.
"I thought you might want these. You, above all, seemed disturbed by the events of yesterday," Poncey said.
"You think?" Twilight growled.
"I would not be too worried now, not without knowing for sure."
"And why should I now?"
"Because Specimen V only killed one pony, he stuck around for some time; about a year, in fact. Maybe Hyde won't be as vicious as you think."
Twilight took the envelope.
"What's in it?"
"Everything."
Twilight looked at Poncey in disbelief.
"Any time, just call me, okay? I want to help you," Poncey said, scratching his neck. "I hope you find use for it. They don't know I gave it to you."
"That's... sweet-…" Twilight tried.
"Think none of it. Really, it's fine."
Twilight boarded the train and met with Fluttershy and Shady Daze, already seated. She thought long and hard about what to do next, if she should inform the princess or just let Bacoltermann perform the search she was so much against. She looked through the contents of the envelope without taking anything out and saw that she, indeed, had a full set of photographs of Specimen V. In the envelope was also the straightened out sketch by Applejack; and along with it was a cleaned up version, likely drawn by Poncey himself.
"Thoughtful of him," Twilight thought.
"What'cha got there?" Shady Daze asked.
"Nothing... stuff, that sort of thing."
"Aw, C'mon!" the colt complained.
Bacoltermann came in with Black Hoof and they took the seats parallel to theirs.
"You want something to drink?" Black Hoof asked.
"Coffee, please," Bacoltermann replied.
"What about you?" Black Hoof asked the rest.
"What do they have?" Shady Daze asked.
"C'mon, let's find out."
The pegasus and the colt trotted down the cart and disappeared behind the door. Fluttershy took this moment to pry.
"Why are you and your son so distant?"
"You want to hear about that, do you?" Bacoltermann asked.
"Mm-Hm."
Twilight could not help but turning her head.
"Well it's a bland story, really, nothing you've never read in a 'coming-of-age' book."
"I think you care for him."
"You do, do you now?"
"I do!" Fluttershy insisted.
"Fine, I don't hate the colt. I am more angry with myself."
"Well, why don't you tell us about it?"
"Okay, but on one condition: for each question you ask, I may ask one of my own."
Twilight suddenly felt intrigued.
"You're on," Twilight said.
---
"Where did their war start anyway?" Spike asked. "All of a sudden they just barge in and tell you to fight their cause?"
"It was strange to me as well at the time. I had neither sworn fealty to their kind, nor had I promised them troops for their efforts. We had never made agreements on political and economical philosophies; for the whole duration of our alliance, I ruled my domain undisturbed and they ruled theirs without any interventions from me," Princess Celestia said.
"So what then? Why did they come to you?"
"I do not know. I asked many times, but the question was always ignored. Every envoy, every messenger, every official. Each one would ignore me when I asked them this."
"But you must have had some idea, right?"
"In all honesty, Spike, no. I felt hopelessly ignorant."
"But then what? What happened just before?"
Princess Celestia brought up another tablet, a thinner one but wider. On it was carved many figures, some of them recognisable after only a brief look. It was an illustration of many animals within an ecosystem. Spike understood that much.
"The circle of life they believed in had in it some... loop holes that I never accepted. They believed only the world would feast upon them, yet they were free to eat of the creatures within the circle without consequence."
"Meaning?"
"They regarded themselves above the circle of life, yet spoke of it as if they were subject to it."
"What did they eat anyway?"
"Fish, I understand. They would also eat other creatures like horses and greater beasts. Some I do not know a resemblance of."
Spike shuddered but looked at the tablet again and saw how it formed a faint map. Atop what looked like a mountain there were dragon figures, winged, crooked, but regal. They had faint arrows stretching from them down to other points of the map. Fish in the waters, horses in the fields, large birds in the sky, and many things Spike could not even begin to guess what they were supposed to be.
"I suppose that seems a bit... arrogant," Spike said. "They ate horses?"
"Yes, which is one reason I was reluctant to humour their 'truce'."
"Truce?"
"I do not know where they felt threatened from, but they would call our... peace, a truce, as if we had ever fought one another. Their militaristic nature knew few bounds. Many times I had to bite myself not to fight."
"Did you support them? In their effort, that is."
Princess Celestia just looked at Spike without replying.
"Well?"
"No, Spike. No, I did not send soldiers to a land across ocean they had never really heard of to support dragons nearly a hundred times their own size against an enemy not even I knew who it was."
"Yikes. I didn't mean to offend."
"What puzzles me is how on this tablet I can see all these animals and creatures," Princess Celestia started, "but suddenly on these tablets they emphasise heavily on a new, previously undocumented creature."
The princess placed a small disk on the tablet which was carved with a strange symbol.
"I don't recognise this character," Spike said.
"That is not a letter, Spike, this is the creature of which I speak. Bipedal, perhaps, or long-legged. It has an almost tree-like appearance, with long branches on the top of each forelimb and, and here I am at a loss, they appear to have no connection to the circle of life. Like the dragons, they are outside, but they do not seem to take from it either."
"So... are you sure they belong? Maybe you're just reading into it, Your Highness?"
"No, Spike, though I appreciate the input, the dragons scribe of them; 'children of the world'.
"Oh, maybe you are talking about the Children of the End!" Spike exclaimed. "Pathfinder told me about them!"
Princess Celestia widened her eyes at the dragon for suddenly barking knowledge she was not already privy to.
"Tell me everything you know!" Princess Celestia demanded. "It may hold the key to understanding their fate."
"Who's fate?"
"The Sky Tyrants. I have heard nothing of them for nearly three hundred years, Spike!"
"Oh..." Spike hung his head low in shame. "I did not actually ask Pathfinder to tell me about them."
"Pathfinder knows of them?"
"Yeah, she said something about how 'bide and prosper' was some kind of virtue amongst them." Spike replied.
Celestia remembered back to the letter Spike had sent her. The second paragraph had continued the use of 'bide and prosper’.
The Sun Tyrant will find a Useful Friend, and the Children Bide and Prosper.
"She also told me 'tyrant' back there meant a powerful dragon... or a ruler, like a monarch."
Was the phrase 'sun tyrant' addressing her? Princess Celestia felt so foolish and ignorant. Pathfinder had been in front of her, and she could have gotten more answers. All the answers. Rainbow Dash would surely have been found, she could have seen to that herself, but now Pathfinder was out of her immediate reach. A three hundred year old mystery was so close to be solved: who were the Children of the End?
---
"Why do you want to know about dragons?" Twilight asked.
"You seemed happy to defend them, now I want to know why. What fascinates you about them?" Bacoltermann asked again.
Twilight grunted.
"Well I have a friend whom I have known from young foalhood named Spike. He is a dragon and we've been almost inseparable for as long as I can remember."
"Oh? Well he must be one galleon of a dragon to be so nice and gentle all the time. I know I could not go a week without wanting to punch a wall once or twice."
Twilight thought back to when Spike had been overcome with greed and ravaged Ponyville. He was not perfect, but his kind and young side was always what ponies remembered him for. He talked like ponies, lived like ponies and had crushes like ponies; he was just scaly and ate gemstones.
"He's just a young little dragon colt, that's what he is," Twilight said and smiled.
"Okay, your turn," Bacoltermann said.
"What happened between you and your son?" Fluttershy asked.
"Again? You've asked that question a million times!"
"No, now I want to know what ultimately caused you two to split."
Bacoltermann grunted and cleared his throat.
"Well, like I said, he had been sailing between different fillies over the course of many months like a deranged romantic, and because I saw so much of myself in that - by which, of course, I am referring to my debauched exploits during my colt and early stallionhood in the Penny & Co. Transoceanic Goods Delivery. So I told him the short of it: stop what you are doing and act right. He defended his actions and called me a hypocrite, so I called him a foul stud, and he called me an under-deck drunkard - fair enough, I suppose."
"But I want to know what caused you two to separate," Twilight reminded.
"I'm getting there. And as I also said, he then scurries off with this Coco Sweet - that sweet little filly those two overweight meat sacks who run the sweet shop by the train station somehow managed to pack and deliver; I think their name was Cake, or something - and, well, I only presume he got that filly preggers, and he suddenly tells me he wants to marry the poor creature. I said 'no, I won't have you throwing your youth away like that' and he starts shouting at me. He calls me names, words he probably did not even know the meanings of and accused me of having been a bad father and role model - you know how colts are - and he tells me he doesn't want to become like me..." Bacoltermann took a long pause to breathe, something he had not done since he started.
"And then?" Fluttershy asked.
"Well... I hit him. I hit him like I never hit a stallion before; right here," Bacoltermann said and pointed to just between his chin and throat. "He falls to the floor, having a jaw of glass, struggles to get up - I am absolutely livid at this point and ready to really thrash the damn wretch," he continued and almost snarled as he finished that sentence. "He gets up on his hooves, says he hates me, struggles to walk out the door and leaves me there. Weeks later he has this 'project' I hear about from Cloud Stride and Coco Sweet suddenly goes missing and her parents come knocking on my gates. And I have not seen that sod since."
Fluttershy leaned in on the old stallion, trying to see his true expression. She clearly thought he was hiding something, but had not yet figured out how to pry the truth out of him.
"What?" Bacoltermann asked. "I don't regret what I did, I was trying to steer him in the right direction, but that damn colt had less brains than a damn jellyfish! Bloody salt, I only beat him once in his life and suddenly I am the worst father on the planet? That fuc-... that little... damn him!"
Bacoltermann's voice was audibly breaking.
"You miss him, don't you?" Fluttershy asked.
"My turn to ask the question!" Bacoltermann barked.
"Well, let's hear it," Twilight invited.
"Have any of you... have you at all... would you..." he struggled, "I am trying to... had you been... urgh!"
Bacoltermann hit the back of his head against the seat repeatedly.
"Why did I have to hit the colt?! Why did he have to try my patience like that!?" he cried, suddenly bursting into tears. "That damn shit-stain just had to become like me, didn't he? I tried so hard to put all that behind me when I made his mother pregnant, I married the mare and spent many years in marital felicity! I tried to be the best father I could be and I even let him explore his own choices in life - and still he falls into the traps I tried my best to protect him from!"
He could not restrain himself as he punched wildly at the seat in front of himself.
"Damn that colt! Damn him!"
Black Hoof came running down the cart, having only just returned from his errand.
"What's the heck's goin' on? Why are you acting like that?!" he demanded.
"I'm so sorry, we were talking about his son and we-..." Fluttershy tried.
"Well that's not a topic he discusses easily, okay!? Just drop it, will you?"
Black Hoof restrained Bacoltermann before he damaged anything and held him until he calmed down.
"The colt's off in Manehattan. Thinking about him now won't get you anything. Just leave it," Black Hoof ordered.
"Grr! He's been nothing but trouble since his mum died! I bet he blamed that on me too, the ungrateful whelp!"
"Calm down, Manny!"
Bacoltermann gave the chair in front of him a final kick before settling down. Whatever was going on in his head was not the product of a free mind. He had done a great job masking it before, but he had demons of his own.
"Damn you, Skipper," the old stallion wept.
"Picture it now, from this cliff we watch the scene. The dragon flies in and gives all the ponies a good scare," Brawler started. "A little bit of screaming, a little bit of burning, and a little bit of demolition and we have a beautiful painting right there."
"I sit here and hope your investment pays off?" the boss asked.
"Of course, why should you have to do the dirty work?"
"And what if this fails?"
Brawler snickered at the thought and turned to Itch.
"Itch? Was there something else you wanted to mention?" Brawler asked.
Itch scratched himself behind the ear as the audience gathered around him. The boss was ever so intimidating even in broad daylight like this, and now half his direct lackeys had come to learn of Itch's plan to capture Scratch's killer.
"Well... even if the dragon fails or outright bails on us... um... well he doesn't even know we are here and won't come looking for us," Itch said.
"And...?" Brawler urged.
"Um, then his lair will be empty..."
"And...?"
"We take his stuff.
The boss sat in silence, but his eyes were wide open, caught between ready to burst into laughter and start crying.
"It's a win-win for you, boss," Brawler explained. "He brings you the horse, you become richer; he fails to bring you the horse, you still become richer."
The boss smiled.
"Itch, you are not from a bad litter after all," he remarked.
"Uh... thanks."
The boss turned around to look down on Ponyville once again.
"I can picture it now: that Town Hall, roof gone and it debris crushing another building. The trees are on fire, the ponies are running around in panic. The horse shows itself and the dragon has just to grab it, and we go home victorious!"
"A fine canvas you painted on!" Brawler complimented.
"Now, listen up you rugged mutts, I want this done tomorrow, come rain or shine!" the boss growled. "This will not be delayed; I will not suffer another day in waiting when vengeance is this close!"
"You won't have to," Brawler assured. "We are setting the scene as we speak and tomorrow you will have a fine position to view the entire event."
"Let us go!" the boss ordered. "Much to do, I shall wear my finest regalia for this occasion."
"Oh dear, looks like we are going to have to make you an entirely new ensemble then."
---
This was wrong, all wrong. Tried as she might it never came to her. She could barely recall the last time she even thought about it before now. She sat up to get her bearings, but could not shake off the nausea. She was just about ready to pass out again, but fear kept her awake.
The wheels were turning, the road was long, the sun had only just gone up. Manehattan was nowhere in sight and the open road as empty as it had been the day she first met Pilgrim. Birds in their hundreds were chirping away at the sparse but numerous trees; yet it was all too silent. Trixie was scared. Something was amiss.
Where was she going? What had happened? What had not happened yet?
"Coco?" she tried. No reply. "Skipper?"
She looked around hoping to spot them on the open fields on each side of the road, but they were as empty as the clear sky itself. Trixie looked into the wagon again, but had to open a door she specifically recalled had been lost just the other day after the Highway Dog attack, but there was the one constant: Pilgrim was seemingly sleeping inside the wagon, a constant behaving radically different; for the better.
"Pilgrim?" Trixie called, but he did not seem to hear her.
Wondering if she perhaps was not still sleeping, Trixie slapped herself on the cheeks a couple of times to test, but she did not awake. Now certain she was not dreaming she entered the wagon and approached the sleeping pony hoping to gain some degree of clarity.
"Pilgrim?" Trixie tried nudging him on the shoulder.
Pilgrim shifted a little bit and his helmet slid forward as the back of its brim pressed against the wall. The helmet eventually rolled off and Trixie hurried to catch it before it woke him up. With the helmet followed what Trixie had first thought was his face, or at least the mouth-piece of the armour that surrounded it, and now she saw a whole new face of Pilgrim.
He was pale of coat, so pale that the skin below bled through to an almost uncomfortable degree. His mane was as black as coal and tied in a knot over the top of his head. He had the same black facial hair growing from the corners of his cheeks to his chin and around the mouth in an unkempt goatee. His face was free of any kinks or roughs, yet wizened in evidence of his disinclination to ever stretch his face muscles - too few smiles and laughs. He was not young, yet he clearly was not old, just hard to make sense of. His face was flatter than most ponies’, which was a more feminine trait, and perhaps the source of the grief that caused him to hide his face in the first place.
Trixie pitied this face and the life it surely suffered. Pilgrim was not a happy stallion; perhaps a bitter one, but for a reason.
"What have you endured?" Trixie asked as she slipped the helmet back over his head.
She looked down on his body. He was sitting in his usual back-side-down fashion, resting on his rump and leaning against the wall. His clothing was the same as ever, showing some signs of long-term stay. Likely he was overdue a bath or two, but he had a fairly neutral aroma about him; surprisingly not sour and sweaty. He did not snore, but his breaths were deep and controlled, and he was not about to wake up any time soon.
"When was the last time you slept?" Trixie asked.
Trixie turned around and inspected the wagon interior. Not a plank out of place; it was almost as if she was reliving the moment she had first met Pilgrim, but under different circumstances. Trixie felt thirsty and reached for the sink. As she filled a bowl with water she noticed something on the floor next to Pilgrim. A small wooden doll, an anatomy aid, she did not recall ever owning. It was strangely built, bipedal and tall, with an egg shaped head. It was without accessories, which it seemed Pilgrim had been in the process of providing.
Pilgrim had next to the doll itself a small box Trixie knew was her sewing kit. She carefully opened it and found the familiar contents with some extra addition. One small vest, a small pair of leggings - likely to fit the doll - a hat and a pair of footwear, all scaled down to fit the doll. Curious about this particular piece, Trixie took the doll with her back outside and sat on the platform. There she puzzled over how to get the clothes onto the doll for a long time. The leggings slid on over the legs easily enough, the hat was a no-brainer and the shoes fit where they were clearly supposed to. The vest was a tricky piece of work as the forelimbs on the doll going forward did not permit for the vest to go around the back. Worried she might break it, Trixie tried not to experiment too much. She gave up and laid the doll aside.
The road was empty still and the birds were chirping as they would on a sunny summer day. Yet all was too quiet. Trixie shut her eyes a let a faint stream of conscience cloud her mind.
---
The ceiling was grey and as dull as could be. A strong light bled through the curtain surrounding the bed. She tried to sit up but felt herself having no energy to do so. She turned her head to face the source of the light hoping to catch a silhouette. There was none. It was all too silent.
She inspected her hooves, struggling to hold them up, to see if there were any damages. She then turned her attention to the top of her head. It was no longer sore or aching, but her hair was clotted at the roots. But not from blood, it seemed.
"Aw, great, I am in hospital..." she thought to herself and then let out a faint moan, "... again."
At least she had the warmth of a bed, duvet and pillow. But she was lonely. How much time had passed? What had she missed? Where were her friends? Were they there at all? Had anything she remembered actually happened? It felt like a strange drift in time had occurred and now there was no telling what was going on. She glimpsed the clock on the wall just turning to twenty three minutes past nine, and it was probably morning. She could do nothing but wait and see.
---
Trixie had the strangest spike in memory. For a second she remembered waking up in a hospital bed weak with fatigue, but that was impossible considering she had never in her life been hospitalised. She looked over to her side and noticed the doll had gone missing along with the vest she never managed to put on it. She looked in through the window to see if Pilgrim had not woken up and taken it back. If so she should probably have formalised an apology for taking them without asking. Pilgrim, however, was fast asleep in the very same corner.
She entered the wagon again, recalling her thirst. She walked over the sink, took a bowl and filled it. She gulped it down without pause and cheered as the refreshing sensation of swallowing something cold crept through her body. Then something was caught in her peripherals. The same doll as before, undressed, next to the same sewing kit, as if it had never been moved to begin with.
"I could have sworn..."
Trixie picked the doll up again and sat it down on the worktop next to the sink. She brought up the sewing kit and found the leggings, shoes, vest and a hat. Once again she managed to dress the doll just as she had last time, short only of the vest. It just would not go on the way it was reasonably supposed to.
"How do I dress you?"
Pilgrim shifted once again, this time assuming a visually uncomfortable position. He rested his elbows on the floor to create stability, but an elbow really was not meant to bend like that. His forelimbs were actually now stretched behind him in a brutal angle. Trixie took note of this strange display and pulled the dolls forelimbs backwards, and they complied without resistance.
"Huh..."
The vest went on without a problem and sat snugly over the dolls torso. Now the doll was completely suited. But it still missed something: eyes. Trixie dug around the sewing kit a found a white button She could not help but laugh at the similarities, but as the button was snapped in half and attached to the head as two sad eyes, it looked strangely familiar; like Pilgrim.
"I'll call you Grimly," Trixie said. "Grimly the Hustler."
Trixie placed the doll next to Pilgrim and walked outside again. She sat on the platform and played with her hooves. She recalled having scratched her scalp the other day and wanted to make sure it was fine. By magic she produced two mirrors from inside the wagon and began inspecting her mane. Much to her dismay, she had a long red highlight running down her fringe.
"Great, that won't wash away for weeks unless I cut it."
But that left one final question unanswered. If her hair was stained with blood the dogs had attacked the wagon already, so it must have been repaired while she was out. That must also mean she had already met with Coco Sweet and Skipper, but not been present of mind to see how that turned out, which worried her greatly. But then where was she going now? She did not know where she had travelled from or even which road she was travelling on, so a map would do her no good now. All she could do was to sit on the wagon and see where it would take her.
To distract herself from the thought of being lost, she brought Grimly out and sat it down so she could enjoy the company of a friend. She pondered for a while what personality somepony like Grimly might have and in the everlasting emptiness of the world around her, as the wheels kept turning, she found herself once again dozing off.
---
"Oh why won't she wake already?" the worried pony asked.
"Applejack, I am afraid this is just how it is," the dean said. "Since she arrived, she done nothing but sleep."
"Is she in one of them comas?"
"No, but in a strange sleep we can't wake her from."
"Why not just shake her?" Applejack asked and grabbed hold of the unresponsive pegasus.
"I'd advice against it!" the dean urged as he hastily pushed Appejack away.
"She'll be okay, right?"
"She's been lost in the woods for days, if she doesn't wake up soon she might starve, unless we feed her through a tube. Unfortunately since we never had to use them in a long while, I can’t seem to find any."
"Hunger ought to wake her up! I know it will!" Applejack insisted.
Rarity walked into the ward with a bouquet and a box of pastries.
"She's not awake yet?" Rarity asked.
"Naw, she's out good," Applejack replied.
"Have you tried shaking her a little?"
"No... yes," the dean confessed.
"How can she be sleepin' this deep? Ain't natural, I tell ya!"
"There is nothing more you can do," the dean asserted. "If I were to guess, this sleep is magic-induced, in which case I will consult a scholar or something, but for now Rainbow Dash must be left alone."
Rarity and Applejack had taken their seats on the bench outside the front of the hospital. Rarity looked at the box of pastries she had picked up from the Sugar Cube Corner.
"Well they'll have to be eaten today..." Rarity said and sighed deeply.
"Ain't nothin' to it, I guess," Applejack agreed.
"Girls, you want to eat these?" Rarity asked the three fillies.
Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were carelessly occupied playing king of the hill on Pathfinder's back. Now that she had been saddled up once more she proved an ample throne.
"Apple Bloom, she ain't no toy!" Applejack scolded.
"But she said we could!" Scootaloo defended.
Pathfinder appeared to be deep in sleep.
"Did she sleep at all last night?" Rarity asked.
"Dunno, she sleeps in the barn. So she minds her own business most of the time," Applejack said. "Why yesterday she just ran away, and suddenly came back in the middle of the night. Said she'd been to Canterlot and was gonna go out and look for Rainbow - didn't believe her at first - but she wouldn't have known Princess Celestia otherwise, I reckon."
"So she followed Spike there?"
"Uh-huh."
"Why would he let her do that?"
"Beats me, honestly. Maybe she knew somethin' and convinced Spike to let her tag along."
"You are the one looking out for her, surely you care what Pathfinder is up to...?" Rarity suggested.
"I do, I do. Since her late master died I've been tryin' to replace him as best I can. That mare works harder and longer than even Big Mac, but she always needs you to tell her what to do!" Applejack complained. "And now Big Mac clearly has some self-esteem issues he tries to hide, but I see through him."
"Wait, how long has she worked for you now?"
"Huh? One day; she came here the same day Twi and Fluttershy left, we let her buck a few trees and pull the harvester just to give her the lefts and rights. Then she worked the other day before the dragon flew by. Why?"
"And she's already that good?"
"Wish she'd come sooner, although she'd probably have to lose her master again."
"I think this years’ cider sales will run smoothly then," Rarity joked.
"If she doesn't run off again on another adventure."
Rarity tried to make sense of the giant mare now acting as the three fillies’ playground. New in town, yet perfectly willing to run around the country to take care of other ponies' problems. Either she was a devout do-gooder, or she was a martyr for appreciation.
"Why is she saddled?" Rarity asked. "Is she dressing for some occasion?"
"Naw, I saw her huggin’ it this mornin' so I offered to put it back on her. Misses her master I'm guessin'; poor soul."
"Maybe I could design a new one for her. As a 'thank you' for finding Rainbow Dash, that is."
"I think she'd like that," Applejack encouraged. "But make it practical. She's a die-hard for practicality."
"Hmh, and perhaps a new pair of horseshoes. I wasn't very fond of her first ones," Rarity remarked, almost ignorant to
Applejack's words. "Perhaps boots instead?"
"Oh boy..."
---
A tray of not yet finished food rested on the neighbouring bed's table. Still some greens, the portion of jelly cubes were untouched, but the bread was gone. It would have to suffice to sate this hunger. She carefully stretched her leg over to grab the table and pull it over. Not an easy task considering how tired and weak her body was. The table scraped audibly against the floor, discouraging her from continuing, but not enough to make her stop.
As the table came near enough she pulled the tray over to her bed and invited herself to the food. Apple and strawberry flavoured jelly cubes were a welcome treat, but not too filling. The greens were an unsavoury sight considering somepony had already eaten from them, and that was after they had been blitzed into an abominable paste, but hunger was the best seasoning. She licked up the foul texture and forced herself to swallow each mouthful. Her stomach made clear and unmistakable noises to declare it was now digesting - a sound one rarely wants to think of. She returned the tray to the table and tried to push it back to its original position. However, just before the mission was complete she felt gravity calling, blacking her out. She fell to the floor.
---
"Rainbow Dash?" Trixie wondered as she woke up once again.
She had not thought much about her turning point in Ponyville so long ago. Strangely now she remembered the rainbow-maned pegasus she had humiliated before a whole audience. She did still regret her terrible behaviour, but it had never haunted her like this, to the point where she even remembered her victims.
The field around her was just as before, dotted only with sparsely growing trees. Birds were chirping as if it was still morning. I dawned on her then: it was, in fact, still morning. The sun had not moved a degree from its angle since she last saw it.
Trixie looked down on the platform so see if Grimly was still next to her. To her horror, once again, it was missing. She hurried back inside and saw it lying next to Pilgrim, undressed and with the sewing kit right next to it.
"What is going on?" she wondered.
Trixie brought up the doll and dressed it once again, now effortlessly. Not daring to take chances she stayed inside the wagon this time. The thirst came back to her and she brought up the bowl and filled it in the sink. The same bowl as before, as if she had never used it to drink. She hastily gulped down every last drop and threw the bowl aside. She paced back and forth the wagon hoping to make sense of her predicament. She was worked up beyond her limits and she could feel cold sweats running down her neck.
She stopped suddenly when she felt something hold onto her tail and pulling her backwards. She looked over her shoulder and saw a partially awake Pilgrim extending a hoof toward her posterior. Intrusive, sure, but at least he was not sleeping any longer.
"You're awake! What's going on?" Trixie asked with her spell.
'I do not understand' the words said.
"Why are you so calm? We have been repeating this scenario three times now!" Trixie cried. "Aren't you scared?"
'No.'
His sincerity was only matched by how hard it was to actually read his disposition. With his helmet back on it was impossible to tell if he was smiling or frowning, and he never spoke so his voice gave no tell on the matter. Yet reading these words, magically formed when Trixie read his mind, she tried to imagine what they might have sounded like had he spoken them.
Pilgrim let go of Trixie's tail and moved the doll and sewing kit aside. He tapped on the floor next to him in an invitation for her to join him. She was hesitant, but Trixie needed something to ease her mind, be that a reasoned conversation - which was clearly not an option - or perhaps the most awkward and dangerous cuddle she had ever considered getting herself into. Half reluctant, half hopeful, she sat down beside him facing the wall. Hoping for some result to take effect Trixie was disappointed to learn Pilgrim was not entirely satisfied with her level of collaboration and tapped on the floor one more time. Trixie growled and sat down with her back against the wall and gave her insolent guardian a stern look. He was not in the least influenced by it, however.
"Well...?" Trixie said.
No response.
Trixie sighed, readied her spell and tried again.
'The wagon rolls forward to a place I do not know where. This is the way we travel.'
Trixie did not like the sound of that one bit, but decided not to lose herself to panic. She lay down and rested her head, hoping this time would be different. Perhaps with Pilgrim awake this whole repetition phase would come to an end. Pilgrim began gently stroking her on the side, likely as a gesture to acknowledge her stress, but it was more discomforting than calming. She protested mentally, but decided to leave the matter to his hooves. With any luck, he knew what he was doing. He then proceeded to increase the length of each stroke to now go from the bottom of her hairline along the back down to her dock. Much more intrusive than before, but it scratched just the right way. Trixie let out a moan of satisfaction as the strokes became more rhythmic, and her stress did indeed begin to ease. This was something she wanted to fall asleep to.
---
Back up on the bed from which she had remembered falling, it was embarrassing to think that somepony had found her face-first on the floor for no apparent reason. The tray had been removed from the table and the bed it stood next to was now occupied. Blue Hoof lay there, asleep. Next to her sat a jet black pegasus stallion, half asleep too, whom she did not recognise at all. Perhaps her father? She had mentioned him before. It was not much use to think of, but it was good to see Blue Hoof was not all alone.
She slowly turned her head to the other side and noticed the curtains had been pulled to let the sunlight in. The sun had just risen above the window frame, allowing her to see those gathered inside the ward. Though only four had gathered, they were all familiar faces.
Fluttershy, was crocheting some strange cylindrical object, probably what would later become a pair of long socks, in a blue and red striped pattern. Her expression appeared comfortably optimistic as she was absorbed in her work. Perhaps the time-out had not been too dark for those concerned.
Rarity and Sweetie Belle were talking some nonsense about somepony she had never heard the name of; a Pathfinder, whoever that was. They seemed to be in disagreement, but otherwise even-tempered and resolved not to raise their voices. It was nothing out of the ordinary; not much at least.
Pinkie Pie, who looked absolutely devastated for some reason. Not traumatised, mind, but something was definitely going on in her head and it was eating her inside-out; and that was almost painful to watch a friend going through.
"Are you alright, Pinkie?" she asked.
The whole room gathered in a loud gasp as each pony jumped no less than a feet into the air.
"You're awake!!" Pinkie Pie cried out. "Why did my Pinkie Senses not warn me about this whole catastrophe?!"
"Please, don't let it fester inside your head," Rarity pleaded. "You'll never get over yourself like that, and it wasn't even your fault to begin with."
"Oh my, I'd hoped to have these socks ready before you woke up, but, um, this is good too," Fluttershy said, her surprise preventing her from really expressing herself.
"What happened? How long have I been here?" she asked.
"Oh, uh, just a little less than seven hours," Rarity said. "Pathfinder found you last night and brought you here."
"Who?"
"Pathfinder is a horse!" Sweetie Belle exclaimed. "She was sent by Princess Celestia herself to rescue you!"
"Uh, what?"
"Yeah, funny thing that," the stallion remarked.
"Who's this dude?"
"Black Hoof," Blue Hoof replied. "He's my dad."
"Uh, great, right? Well, um, what happened anyway? Aside, of course, from my humiliating defeat back in the forest. Where is everypony?"
Rarity took a deep breath.
"Spike is in Canterlot for whatever reason. Twilight and Applejack are probably in the orchard by now with Sir Bacoltermann - you don't know him - and Zecora, I think, is also with them. Scootaloo just ran out to get some juice from the vending machine, and, um, am I forgetting somepony?"
"What was the name of that grey mare?" Black Hoof asked.
"Oh, yeah, Derpy is here too, I think. She walked out just a minute ago."
The grey pegasus came trotting through the door holding a pack of juice in her mouth. She dropped it as soon as she saw the awoken patient.
"Rainbow Dash!"
"Derpy?"
Derpy threw herself over the bed-ridden pegasus without hesitation, crying out apology after apology.
"Woah, private space, okay?" Rainbow Dash scolded and tried to push the waterfall-weeping mare off herself. "What else did I miss? Has Trixie arrived yet? What happened to Hyde? And how long have I been out?"
"You've been out for, uh, three days I think," Rarity said. "Nopony knows where Hyde is, but that is what Sir Bacoltermann is here for."
"What? He some kinda monster hunter or something?"
"No, he's just an enthusiastic observer," Black Hoof replied. "But he was also the first one to discover their kind... except for that other Zebra that Twi... er, whatever, not important."
"And what about Trixie?" Rainbow Dash asked. "Alright, I get it, fine!" Rainbow Dash stopped struggling and let Derpy fall flat upon her again.
"What about who?" Rarity asked. "Trixie? Be more specific."
"Uh, Great and Powerful? That show-off way-back-when? I kept dreaming about her just now and I just had it in my head she was gonna show up today or something."
"Trixie? Oh, you mean the Legendary Lore Caravan?" Pinkie Pie said. "Yeah, that one comes here today. But why are you so interested in that all of a sudden?"
"Beats me, I just can't get it out of my he-aARGH!"
Derpy squeezed the last air of Rainbow Dash's lungs before she could finish her sentence.
"Okay, okay, I think your girlfriend gets it, no need to kill her just because you missed her," Black Hoof said as he trod over and lifted the grey mare aside. "Breathe, my friend, breathe."
Rainbow Dash gasped for air.
"Trixie... she was that intolerable showmare who turned my hair green!" Rarity said in realisation. "Why's she coming back here?!"
"Duh! The Legendary Lore Caravan!" Pinkie Pie repeated. "I just said. It started this year and is a campaign to raise awareness for history, geography and, most importantly, fun stuff like mythology and fantasy!"
"Oh... figures."
"Now, if you don't mind telling us, Rainbow Dash, all you know about Hyde," Black Hoof requested.
Rainbow Dash sighed.
"I'm sure Derpy or anypony else who were there with me would tell you the same thing, but okay. Tall, dark, walks on his hind legs, had long talons and white eyes. And he does this thing where he controls your mind simply by talking."
"So everything we fathomed was correct, then."
"Your guess is as good as mine, dude."
"I hope Manny knows what he's doing."
"Uh, yeah, me too... I guess."
"Well, get some rest, Rainbow Dash, I'll stay here a little longer," Rarity said. "Sweetie Belle, why don't you go join Scootaloo?"
Pinkie Pie walked over to Rainbow Dash and pointed at the table.
"I wasn't allowed to bring you candy, so I got some of that jelly from the kitchen. I hope it's almost as good."
"Aw, thanks Pinkie, nice to know you've got my back."
"Hey, you're my gal pal!"
"Your Pinkie Senses didn't warn you about Hyde?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Not at all, that's the weird part. But Applejack told me Big Macintosh had a hunch and he told her about it."
"Huh, well, nopony died right?"
"As much as I would love to stay and chat, I did promise the Cakes to look after their foals for a while, and break time's up."
Pinkie Pie left the room along with Sweetie Belle.
"What about you Fluttershy?" Rarity asked.
"Um, if you don't mind, I think I want to stay. Angel is in a foul mood because I left without telling him, and I don't want to go back before he calms down."
"Fine, that's okay."
"Well, I think I'll just sleep this day out. Hardly have any strength in these legs yet," Rainbow Dash said.
"At least you've not broken anything," Black Hoof remarked and turned to his daughter.
Blue Hoof sighed.
"She'll be fine, the doctor told me."
"Good to know," Rainbow Dash said and yawned. "Tell me if Trixie shows up. If I am right about this - and I am probably not - she's gonna have a really cool performance lined up now that she works in a duo."
"She has a partner now?" Rarity asked.
"Sure, in my dreams she does. Quiet guy, does the heavy lifting and things like that," Rainbow Dash replied and buried herself under the duvet. "I don't think I've been this tired in ages."
---
Trixie awoke, and again on the platform. She was ready to scream until her throat ripped in sheer frustration, but held in her tension. She looked around to see what might have changed, but disappointingly, nothing visibly had. She looked in through the window to see if Pilgrim was still sleeping by the wall, which he most certainly appeared to be doing.
She entered the wagon to fill the bowl before the thirst kicked in, whereupon she realised that she was not thirsty after all. Had the cycle finally been broken? She walked over to Pilgrim to look at the doll, which was already clad and resting by his side. Then how had she moved out again? She lay down beside Pilgrim without invitation to see if it aroused any response, and for a while it appeared it did not. Trixie was surprised to realise Pilgrim had not been asleep at all this whole time as he quickly turned his head to look at her.
"Surprise!" Trixie squeaked and smiled gleefully, "I came back for more of that amazing back scratching."
Pilgrim stood up hastily, which came as a harsh stab at Trixie’s ego. He fidgeted around his person for a moment to fasten some holsters and such before walking out of the wagon.
"What? Why? Why aren't you scratching my back?!" Trixie asked anxiously. "I thought that's what you wanted?"
Trixie bitterly followed the bipedal pony and saw him sitting in the very same spot he had been sat the first time they met.
"So now that you've rested I am suddenly no good for you? Is that what this is about?"
Pilgrim pointed forward across the road revealing the sign of civilisation in the distance. A town was in sight and the wagon was headed straight for it.
"Oh, by Celestia, we did it! We weren't lost after all!"
Trixie stomped cheeirly on the platform, provoking a strong reaction in Pilgrim who leaned away in disapproval.
"How do you applaud then, Mr Mystery?" Trixie asked mockingly. "I don't even want to know."
Trixie sat down next to Pilgrim and watched the town getting closer and closer. She still wondered what that earlier phenomenon was all about. A strange drift in time where she had no idea what had happened, and suddenly she relived the same scene three times over. Perhaps she could find a book to explain it at some point, but on a slightly less related note, the town they were approached was eerily familiar. And not in a good way.
Ponyville.
"They're looking at me like I am some sort of crop burning monster!" Trixie cried as she again paced back and forth inside her wagon.
Pilgrim had joined her but merely watched as she worked herself up in a tantrum. Thankfully he was blocking the only window inside so that nopony could get a first glimpse on the fear-stricken unicorn who was too scared to perform.
The wagon had come to a stop in the Ponyville town square, where an audience had already gathered in waiting for the performance to begin.
"Why did I have to be scheduled to perform in Ponyville of all places? Why didn't I double-check my rota? I could have gotten out of this if I had! I knew they wouldn't want me back! Why am I so stupid?"
Pilgrim crossed his forelimbs and glared at her in what had to be disapproval.
"Why aren't you worried? We bailed on our last show in Manehattan, I'm sure, but now we're here and I am very much conscious! I have no excuse now that I am here. Ooh... this very spot was where that dreaded Ursa MINOR crushed my last vehicle, and here I am again! Take two: disaster before set!"
Pilgrim audibly grunted with dismay.
"You have stage-fright, Pilgrim! You have to have a weakness, right? Why else would you hide your face?" Trixie reasoned as she continued her nervous pacing. "I was calm just a minute ago, you were scratching my back and there were not a worry in the world."
Trixie looked over to Pilgrim who would not waver a hair's width out of place. She trotted over to him and tried to gain eye contact, which he appeared too disinclined to grant.
"You have to do it again. Please, just for a little moment!" she pleaded as she turned her back. "C'mon, I need this, and I need it more than ever!" she whined and pressed up against him.
When Pilgrim did nothing, Trixie grew wilder. She turned to face him and stood up on her own hind legs to match his height better.
"Why are you being so cruel to me? Why back then and not now?" she asked with her spell.
'I distance myself from a rutting animal.'
"What?! I am not - how dare you!?" Trixie yelled as she backed away.
Pilgrim moved for the first time and lowered down. Not quite on four, but at least a third hoof touched the floor. Now he was giving Trixie the eye contact she had tried to establish earlier, but as per usual of him not a word escaped his lips.
"Why can't you just scratch my back like you did earlier?" Trixie asked.
'It serves no purpose. You are not calm.'
"That's what I want you to help me do, don't you know?"
'I can calm you; beware the consequences.'
"Consequences of being calm? Will you help me or not?"
Pilgrim stood up again and drew a deep breath. He spoke for the first time in a strong, but restrained tone:
Calm.
Trixie felt all of her tension ease and her wildness sooth to a passive state, despite the sudden chill as if she had fallen into cold water. She wanted to shriek out of shock, but found herself incapable of vocalising anything other than a detached 'aw'. Her mind was flourishing with clarity and not a trace of doubt remained in her mind. She had come to act, and act she was going to do. But something in the back of her mind was screaming at her:
"Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP!"
---
"Can you believe it is already the day?" Brawler asked.
"I barely slept, but no... I still find it hard," Itch replied.
The two dogs stood on the hill watching over Ponyville where they would set up the seat for their leader to watch the performance.
"A Ponyville Perfomance, no?" Brawler suggested playfully.
"Please, don't."
"Fine, have it your way."
"Why did you give me all the credit?"
"You suspect me?"
"Of course I do!"
"I have my reasons."
Itch had the strangest rash going on and it had been ever since he first saw that horse lying in the lake. Surely he was doing something really bad here, worse than he could ever hope to achieve in a life-time as a Highway Dog.
"Itching much, Itch?" Tick asked as he came up to meet his friend.
"Very funny, Tick," Itch said and laughed dryly. "Yes, I've got a bad rash."
"Maybe you didn't dry properly after your bath?"
"I didn't have one."
"Naughty dog," Brawler remarked. "You have to be clean and proper for this momentous occasion."
"We are sending in a dragon to pick up a horse! Brawler, for goodness sake, aren't we over-doing it?"
"I don't think so. We aren't trying to have anypony killed now, are we?"
"... No..."
"So there, it's fine! They'll rebuild, and everyone moves on with their lives."
Brawler was too enthusiastic. Itch was getting sick with guilt over having first coined this absolute tragedy of a plan.
"Ah, boss!" Brawler said as he turned around. "Your seat is ready, and we set up the tent so you wouldn't be blinded by the sun!"
"Hardly any sun here now, though," Tick complained, "the pegasi brought in the padding clouds."
"Well it won't rain, at least."
The boss found his seat on a large, heavily padded recliner. His was the best view as he could gaze down without as much as turning his neck. Brawler snapped his claws and summoned forth the designated runner. He passed a rolled paper to the runner and whispered. Itch heard it all.
"Now release the dragon; delay not a second before plundering his cave."
The runner made off down the cliff at impressive speed and was quickly out of sight and perceptible hearing.
"Always loved the fast ones," Brawler laughed. "They make for such delightful spectacles when they're scared."
"Guess where you will be looking," Itch whispered angrily.
"I sense we have some doubt in here."
Itch growled as Brawler called attention to him.
"Itch, what eats you?"
"Nothing, I'm fine!"
The boss scratched his throat impatiently.
"I can now count on my claws the moments before the show starts, boss," Brawler assured and raised a paw. He counted down with his claws: 4, 3, 2, 1.
A loud roar in the far distance shook the trees surrounding the cliff as a green dragon arose from the treetops. It flew with purpose straight for the town called Ponyville and the mood was quickly changed from bored to exuberant.
"Watch him go, good hounds!" Brawler narrated. "This day we watch the first, and the only, Ponyville Performance: My Little Vengeance, Payback is Magic! Starring: Dragon, and the Crook!"
Laughter blew wild as the dogs gathered, each given their own cup of hard cider, knocked cups and drank their spirits wet.
---
"Trixie! What are you doing?!" a female voice yelled.
"Uh, what? What's going on?" Trixie asked.
"Can't you see?! We're being attacked by a dragon!"
Trixie shook her head and saw the ensuing chaos. Ponies were making their way as far into the streets around as they could and the only sound was that of screams and crying.
"When did this...?"
"Never mind, c'mon, we have to get out of here!"
The pony pushed Trixie to give her a direction.
"I know you," Trixie said.
"I should hope so, now come on! Move!"
"You're Twilight Sparkle! You were the pony who drove away that Ursa -..."
"That doesn't matter now! What's wrong with you? Run, then talk!" the lavender unicorn scolded. "Manny, we've got everypony here now, where to?"
"Uh, the river! Get everypony down to the river!" an older stallion yelled from the distance.
"What? Why there?" Trixie asked.
"Who cares? Just go!"
Trixie followed Twilight and Manny as they led from the back the other fear-stricken ponies ahead of them. Trixie glanced behind herself and saw an enormous green dragon tearing off the roof to the town hall, lighting it ablaze, then throwing it over the rooftops.
"Oh, Celestia, what have I gotten myself into?"
They ran down an alley where they caught up with the herd on the other end. The retreat looked overly organised, almost planned, making Trixie question the leadership. If not Twilight, or this Manny, who was leading the evacuation.
"Why is a dragon attacking Ponyville?" Trixie asked.
"How should I know? Didn't you hear him?" Twilight replied.
"Brown horse, brown horse," Manny quoted, "that's what the dragon said!"
"Who?"
"He probably means Pathfinder, a horse who lives here now," Twilight explained. "Wow, that mare is a lot of trouble already."
"I'll say," Manny agreed
They turned around a corner where the river was in sight. The ponies seemed to be slowly trudging down into the river.
"Why are they doing that?" Trixie asked.
"Dragon routine, or something. Pathfinder never explained the purpose."
In the distance by the river a larger equine stood, a brown one.
"Is that her?"
"Yes, that's Pathfinder."
Trixie removed herself from the two and ran over to the brown equine.
"Pathfinder, I need to know what's going on!" Trixie exclaimed.
"You saw it, a dragon attack," the horse replied.
"I was, uh, unconscious. Why is it here?"
"It is after me, by the sound of it. Something I am not so inclined to provide."
"Then what? We need to drive it out!"
"And how would you?" Pathfinder demanded.
"I don't know... but we can't just hide down in the river!"
"And why not? The dragon would be less inclined to hunt here, and when I cause the diversion the other equines can come out again when the dragon disappears."
"You plan on luring it out?!"
"It is my only plan."
"Well it's crazy!"
"You have none yourself."
"That's what I am saying, then, we only need a long pole and I will figure out the rest!" Manny tried to explain in the distance.
Trixie turned around and saw Manny arguing with Twilight and another black pegasus who had only just arrived.
"It's ridiculous! We'll just get killed!" Twilight dismissed.
"But we will be sending somepony else to her death if we don't try!" the pegasus yelled.
"They are brave," Pathfinder commented, "but ultimately they are useless to fight dragons with."
"Wait, I want to hear this idea!" Trixie said.
Twilight groaned.
"Well I only suggested creating a large missile and attacking the dragon with it," Manny explained. "But Twilight here tells me it is 'too dangerous.'"
"You want to fight a dragon?" Trixie asked.
"Sure, why not? Plenty of unicorns to go around, I saw a good flag post not far from the town square. We won't even have to be seen, and we strike the dragon from the back!"
Pathfinder was silent while Twilight kept on complaining.
"Trixe," Pathfinder then said.
"Uh, yes?"
"What say you to that?"
"To... that?"
"Yes."
Trixie felt overwhelming responsibility weighing on her shoulders as Pathfinder named her the one to decide the course of action. Drive away the dragon, as she herself had suggested, or let Pathfinder go through with certain suicide.
"Well... I..."
---
Rarity was in total distress. Her boutique was on fire after burning debris fell upon it. The front door had been blocked off, and the back door had fared the same fate. But Sweetie Belle was still inside.
"Sweetie Belle! Can you hear me!" she called out in desperation.
No sign of the filly wherever she looked. Rarity ran back and fourth between windows as she kept calling her sister's name; hoping that soon a face would show itself in the window. She had tried her hardest to move the debris with her magic, but the fire had already done a far too good job to melt the glass into the woodwork. It would not budge as hard as she tried. She was too scared to break a window in case the fire inside be fed the air. She could only hope Sweetie Belle had sensibly moved downstairs to cleaner air. Just then a movement in the shadows caught Rarity's eyes. Sweetie Belle was already trying to find her way out.
"Sweetie Belle! Here!" Rarity yelled as she knocked on the window.
The little filly ran up to the window, moved a chair over and climbed up. She was terrified beyond measure, but bravely holding her tears in.
"Sweetie Belle, is there a fire in that room?"
Sweetie Belle looked around and shook her head.
"I will get this window cleared, stand back!"
Rarity raised a tile that had fallen from the roof with magic. She trained it at the window and launched it. Barely a crack was visible as the tile bounced off.
"One more time, Sweetie, I'm almost in!"
She threw the brick once more and the crack became more visible, but the tile broke in half.
"No, this can't be happening!" Rarity cried as she desperately looked for another tile that was not already in pieces. "Sweetie Belle!" Rarity called as she looked in through the window again. "Sweetie Belle, I need you to do something for me! Can you hear me?!"
Sweetie Belle came running back to the window, but stopped abruptly and backed away.
"What's the matter? Just listen to me now, dear, you must be very, very..." Rarity noticed a tall reflection in the window which stopped her from finishing her sentence.
Sweetie Belle was screaming from the other side 'watch out, watch out' as Rarity turned. She was being shadowed by a much larger, more terrifying thing she had never expected to see. Her back shivered and sent a cold stream down her spine. It was not what she wanted to see, and had hoped not to see. The spindly figure, talons for forelimbs, metal for a body, bone for a head, and a pair of radiant, dead, pearly eyes that shimmered maliciously, reached for her.
---
"No! It's too scary, I refuse!" Fluttershy protested to her bedridden friend Rainbow Dash.
"Aw, c'mon! I can't do this myself, I need you to help me out here!"
"No, Rainbow Dash! I know what they do! I heard the whole thing and I saw the pictures, I just can't go looking for him!"
"Fluttershy, for pete sake, what am I supposed to do!? Lay in bed an hope he finds me? He doesn't know I'm here even!"
On a fit of supposed brilliance Rainbow Dash had asked Fluttershy to take a tuft of her hair and bring to her 'friend' Hyde. Fluttershy was utterly shocked, and refused adamantly. No matter how hard Rainbow Dash tried, she was met with the strict 'no' without much explanation for what inspired that response.
"I need you to trust me, Fluttershy," Rainbow Dash tried.
"Why should I, I already know what he's capable of, and that other wight killed Errantworth with just his voice!"
"There's more of them?"
"Yes," Fluttershy replied and shivered. "I don't want to think about it."
"Hyde is different, I know it. He's got a horse following him around, so he really shouldn't want to eat us."
"No, Rainbow Dash, listen to me!" Fluttershy screamed. "I will not go looking for Hyde on the sole idea that you think he's a nice enough person! I may have given the benefit of a doubt to the strangest creatures, but none of them has been this illusive!"
Fluttershy turned and began walking out the door. Scootaloo came running in with a pack of juice with enthusiasm in her eyes.
"What were the two of you arguing over?" Scootaloo asked.
"I wanted her to do me a favour, but she refused. Nothing else to it."
"What did you want? Maybe I can do it?"
"No! No, no, no, in the name of Celestia, no!" Rainbow Dash protested. "I would never ask a filly to go looking for Hyde."
"Why not? I'm not scared!"
"No, Scoot, you're not; that's the problem. This is adult stuff, leave it to us grown-ups."
"You're sounding just like Pathfinder now! She was being all overbearing on me the other day and telling me to be a child. I was the one who found you in the forest, you know!"
"That was different."
"How?"
"Just because it was!"
"I'll do it!"
"What?" Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo asked in unison.
"I'll look for him," Derpy repeated.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, really!" Derpy flapped her wings in demonstration and stuck out her chest. "I can do it!"
Rainbow Dash thought for a moment.
"Well, you've actually met him yourself. I need to to take a tuft of my hair and bring it to him. I want him to recognise it."
"Why?" Scootaloo asked.
---
"Why's a dragon attackin' all a sudden anyway?!" Applejack screamed.
"Dunno, but let's get to it!" Big Macintosh replied as the two galloped for the school house.
"Why are we takin' 'em down to the river now again?" Applejack asked.
"Dunno, but let's get to it!" he replied a little louder.
"Oh and how Pathfinder was bossin' around like that: where did she go from being this lost little soul, then a go-to gal, and suddenly a dragon survival expert? Would it not be safer just to leave them kids up in the school? I mean the dragon's in town square!"
"DUNNO, but LET'S GET TO IT!" he roared as he picked up the pace.
As the two arrived at the playground the strange absence of colts and fillies could mean they were not yet aware of the dragon attack or they bunkered up inside the building. Big Macintosh rammed the door open and startled the young ponies sat in class.
"Big Mac?" Cheerilee said in surprise. "Honey, what're you doing here? Why are you so tense? Oh no, did something happen to Apple Bloom?"
"There's a drag -..." Applejack tried.
"Everypony out the back, we're goin' to the river!" Big Macintosh commanded with a voice that shook the walls.
"What? Why, what's going on? Cheerliee asked.
"We've got a drago -..." Applejack tried again.
"C'mon now boys and girls, orderly, and quick-like!" Big Macintosh interrupted as the ponies lined up and hurried outside the back.
"Big Mac? What's going on?"
"Don't scare the kids now, but we've gotta evacuate," he replied. "Don't look back at town centre or you'll see it.
"Oh, nearly blew it there, then," Applejack sighed and knocked herself on the head.
"Please tell me," Cheerilee pleaded as she observed the last student leave through the back door.
"Dragon's what has come to town, a bad one."
"Oh, Celestia! And you came for us!" Cheerilee cried out and hugged him.
"Now, now, we've gotta move."
"Aw, to heck, brother. Take the moments or you're not courtin' her!" Applejack scolded in her mind.
Big Macintosh led the mare out the back leaving Applejack to give the class room one last sweep to make sure no student had stayed behind.
"This is a drill, everypony, so just follow along now!" Cheerilee instructed outside. "We do this right and we all go home happier, okay?"
"Pipsqueak, why are ya hidin' here in class?" Applejack asked after having found the little colt hiding under his desk.
"Dad says this is what you do in school when bad stuff happens," Pipsqueak replied.
"What bad stuff? It's just a drill. Ya heard Miss Cheerilee, right?"
"I don't believe her."
"Why ever not?"
"I know about the dragon."
"What dragon?"
"I overheard it.
"Aw, you did not..." Applejack sighed. "Well, how about you follow with me, then?"
"No, nopony is going to be good enough against a dragon."
"Then what?"
"'Him'!"
"Who?"
"'Him'! Scootaloo told me about it," he said and pushed a paper over to Applejack. "He could save us."
Applejack took the paper and almost screamed out of shock. On it was another drawing of the wight.
"Where you go off drawin' these horrible creatures?" Applejack asked in shock. "Do you have any idea who this is?"
"The Wight of the Waters, I know that. In Trottingham they say he's got really powerful magic he uses on those he don't like. Maybe he'll fight the dragon!"
Applejack looked at the colt without being quite sure what to say.
"You want Hyde to come save us?"
"Yes. I know he can."
"Why not wait for him by the river, then?"
"The dragon could see me out there."
"I promise you he won't."
"I don't believe you!"
"Now listen here now, Pipsqueak. I gotta thing to tell you. I saw that wight, saw 'im with my own eyes, I did. And I will tell you, he'll come, but only if he knows we're here. If he don't see us, he won't think none is wrong here! Then the dragon won't be challenged! And then the dragon will burn down all of Ponyville!"
Pipsqueak withdrew with fright.
"So, c'mon now kid. Let's get out there and call on Hyde, okay? You'll be much safer then, won't you?"
"... yeah..."
---
The earth thundered as thousands upon thousands of boots stomped as its wearers climbed the mountains and their paths. Their shadowy figure were untouched by the sun and only lit up by the glow of their eyes, those which spoke only of death and vengeance. The walls fissured and the loose rubble welled down like cascades of water, yet did not deter any whom the rocks fell upon. Many were they, and each one alike on only two legs, all a monster of their own.
A dragon swooped above them dragging its tail like a sweep, throwing many of these monsters to their falling deaths. Soon, though, like ants the monsters were upon this dragon and clamoured in unison. Each shout seemed to snare a limb of the dragon as it lost momentum and altitude. Barely near enough to the each and reach of a shadowy figure, that figure roared at the mountain itself and a colossal spear of rock piked the dragon through its neck and left it to hang. The march resumed upwards.
Further up the climb a lone figure much unlike the rest awaiting his comrades to stand by his side. He adorned discernible clothes of status, a wide hat, a coat of authoritative colour and boots with heels to crack a skull. This was a leader who rallied his forces, and their enemy was clear. The dragons upon the mountain.
Dragons' heads revealed themselves over the mountain edge and looked down upon the lone leader with great hatred, but he was not alone long enough for any of them to dare an attack. Moments later the leader was surrounded by his fellows and he commanded the full-scale assault without delay. The rushed up the mountain final climb and the dragons retreated.
Upon the mountain top was not a mere roost, but a temple surrounded by many homes, intricate as the ponies of royalty would pride themselves to live in. These housed and these homes would crumble under the onslaught.
A dragon cried out in fear as it was cornered to the temple wall. The attackers were a mere fraction its size, but by the force of their howls alone, the dragon was suddenly reduced to a crumbled corpse that sacked to the ground without a speck of life left in it.
The dragons' retreat was effective, but the pursuit ever strong and many dragons were felled by the error of hiding and not fleeing. The streets painted red as the attackers moved further and further away from the temple they had arrived in and they spread across the mountaintop as efficient as rain.
There was no stopping, as each of the shadows who slowed down were trampled by their comrades without a moments hesitation. Total annihilation was the ultimate goal, and to that, no pause.
A moment of silence was rare but the earth shattering glory was for all to behold as for just this day, the mountain had become a waterfall of red. A piercing cry that could crack even steel surged through the mountaintop as a majestic dragon took its place before the attackers. It spoke.
"Children of the world, children of the end, yours is the way of death. Why have you come here?"
The attackers, the 'children', stopped and gazed upon the speaker, but none spoke in turn.
"Our people reduced so under your malice, end it here and go back to your place. Else a great tragedy overcome us all."
The leader of the children stepped forth and met the dragon eye-to-eye. Barely big enough to be measured to the dragon's own head, there was still an imposed level of respect the dragon had for his assailants. Their reckoning had been great, and their losses few, and this sole dragon now guarding what few remaining of the survivors now had only language to his mettle.
The children's leader looked to his own people, the blackness that covered the streets with only shimmering pearls of eyes to light them up. Their victory was assured, but yet it seemed they themselves were not convinced. He turned his gaze back up on the dragon and raised a forelimb. The dragon closed in with his head as either to meet it or to listen to a whisper. Then the children's leader drew breath and let out a sky shattering yawp:
IS!
The dragon's ears spout blood and the dragon flinched.
VIS!
The dragon's eyes split and its whites quickly tinted red and the dragon withdrew its head.
VOS!
The dragon's scales tore off violently and pulled of much of the skin below, revealing both muscle and vein. The dragon cried out with the last of the strength its lungs had to muster and fell to the side. The dragon slid off the edge of the mountainside and hurtled down to the depths below.
The leader guided his forelimb forward and commanded the final charge. Some dragons took flight to the horizon beyond, others awaited their death. And the shadow overcame the skies.
---
She awoke as if straight out of a nightmare and shook her head. What dream before her had tried to tell was beyond her comprehension. A secret history that shook the worlds order that nopony even knew about; a prophetic dream or a spell of fiction was hard to determine. She climbed out of bed and adorned her crown and crest. Night was it soon and duty was to call. When a faint light on the corner of her eyes caught her attention she walked over to the window that had revealed it and looked down upon the town below far into the distance. Ponyville was in blaze.
The talon reached beyond her and scratched the window. Rarity ducked and jumped out of the way, but the monster did not follow. It backed away and opened its maw, spoke at the window and beheld the glass shatter into fine grain. Sweetie Belle screamed from inside as the monster climbed in. Was this Hyde?
Rarity tried to grab him when only one leg remained to enter the sealed boutique but missed by an inch.
"Don't you dare hurt my sister, you fiend! You hear me!?" Rarity screamed as she tried to follow, but was discouraged by the sharp glass that remained.
She could see Sweetie Belle run out of the room and heard her hooves climb the stairs.
"No, don't go up there Sweetie Belle!" Rarity warned, "the clouds will choke you!"
Rarity knocked the last glass shards off the frame and jumped inside. She did not get far until she could hear Hyde take a hasty four steps before suddenly having audibly reached the the upstairs floor. He possessed remarkable agility to perform such a feat, indeed, but his motives only now seemed clear to Rarity. It could not possibly be malicious if Sweetie Belle's death was assured without intervention. And if killing was his goal, Rarity was just cornered with only a small window she managed to escape through.
"Rarity, help me!" Sweetie Belle cried from upstairs.
"Sweetie Belle, you have to trust sister now! You hear me? Hyde is not trying to harm you!"
"THAT'S HYDE?" Sweetie Belle screamed.
A faint, but still bold and affecting call came from upstairs followed by a weak thud onto the floor. There were suddenly only one set of steps moving upstairs, moving toward the staircase. Rarity tried to build a stepladder for the window in hopes that Sweetie Belle could be safely delivered though it. The steps that belonged to Hyde slowly descended the stairs and he came back into the room. He was carrying in his embrace an unconscious Sweetie Belle. Through the smoke he was barely visible save for the shimmering pearls that made his eyes, no longer appearing evil, but concerned.
"Here, I made our exit," Rarity said and pointed to the window, but fell on deaf ears. "Where are you going?"
Hyde walked toward the blocked entrance where he stopped. He drew breath and let out a howl that shook the integrity of the boutique, and the door with its blockade blew off and away, giving them both an easy exit.
Both outside now, Hyde laid the little filly down on the ground and inspected her condition. Rarity walked closer but was seemingly dismissed by Hyde who raised a forelimb to deny access. Sweetie Belle appeared untarnished save for some blackness from the ash, upon which Hyde turned his attention to Rarity instead. He was quick to notice an anomaly as he paced up to her side and produced a small wooden tub. Within the tub was a creamy, magnolia substance that he scratched a dollop from and began smearing it onto Rarity's side and underbelly. Rarity tried to step away as a sudden sting burned at a wound she never realised she had gotten. Hyde followed, however, and kept on until he seemed satisfied with the application. A disinfectant? Was he some kind of doctor?
Hyde stood up and turned his attention to the building. He drew breath again and exhaled slowly. Rarity felt briefly how breathing became harder but saw the fire on her boutique quickly die out and leave only smoke.
"How did you...?" Rarity tried.
A roar came from over the rooftops and seemed to alarm Hyde more than Rarity as he turned to the source fast as lighting. He let out a ferocious snarl and charged for the source of that roar. Rarity was left alone with Sweetie Belle in a strange, dead silence. Sweetie Belle's breathing was calm and deep, sleeping as if nothing had ever happened. Rarity pondered for a while on what to do considering her current predicament. Her boutique was in no condition any more and Sweetie Belle may have gotten more hurt than what first met the eye; still she wanted to know what Hyde was doing in Ponyville, where he was going now, and what he planned to do when he got there. That roar from the rooftops, it came from a monster, surely, but Rarity wanted to know. She kissed Sweetie Belle in the cheek before setting off after Hyde.
---
Derpy skipped along the rooftops to easier look down on the streets below. As unlikely as it seemed, Derpy felt the best place to look for a forest-dweller who ate forest-animals was in the suburban alleys. A place where he would not easily be seen, or at least where he could move freely without traffic. But he should have had not reason to be around here to begin with. That theory fell apart as quickly as it formed - and she knew that.
Then it caught her attention. On the far off distance where the town square stood was a fearsome dragon of deep green and a face that knew only murder.
"Aiee!" Derpy cried as she dove down to the street below.
The dragon let out a booming roar that ached her ears as the sound echoed through the alleys. Keeping a low-profile, Derpy pressed on with her search. Fruitless at first until she could hear a familiar set of steps somewhere of the the distance. Combined with the rattling of chains and the lack of a second pair of taps, there was no mistaking it. Hyde was close.
Derpy cantered over to the end of the alley to peek out on the street and only nearly dodged, of was dodged by, a figure of silver, green, fur and metal. For a split second, Derpy could also see two moon-like eyes pass her by; a creature running sideways for a short moment like a crab, and indeed was Hyde.
"Wait!" Derpy called. "I've got something for you!"
Hyde ran off through the street without a care for her, as if a single glance had satisfied his curiosity.
"Come back! Mr. Hyde!"
Derpy took flight to catch up, admiring not his speed, but co-ordination and agility as he made calculated turns over streets and alleys. He was headed one way and one way only: the dragon. Derpy wanted to stop him before he got there. In an attempt to break his momentum, Derpy flew over the roofs to find a good point to block his path, but anywhere open would give him a fair chance to simple step aside as he had done before, when she suddenly saw her chance.
Below, not far ahead and definitely some place he would have need to cross, was a thin opening from an alley to an open forum. Derpy darted down and made her presence known as she practically covered each corner of the opening. As Hyde came into sight and turned into the alley, Derpy opened her wings to increase her size. Effective it proved as he stopped just before her. He looked down on her for the briefest moment and Derpy was sure he was already fed up with her. But suddenly he lowered his back and looked at her deeper. Did he recognise her?
"I got this for you!" Derpy said and produced the hairs she had taken from Rainbow Dash.
Hyde looked at the tuft of hair and took it off her with a clear degree of care. He inspected it and slowly rose to his straight position. Something had clicked. Hyde looked down on Derpy again but said nothing at first. He stretched a talon over his shoulder and produced a single blue feather and held it toward Derpy. Was he trying to ask who the hair belonged to? The feather's colour matched Rainbow Dash close enough, so Derpy nodded, for all that meant.
After a short moment of silence Hyde began speaking. None of it made any sense to Derpy as it was a foreign tongue, but his tone of voice was composed, and sounded almost concerned. Hyde spun the hairs around the feather and returned it to his shoulder, where Derpy noticed an assortment of other, much diverse feathers. He was a collector of sorts, and Rainbow Dash's feather had been added to it. After he finished what had seemed like a very long monologue he stepped forward with a talon firmly clenched around a hilt handing around his midsection. Derpy stepped aside and allowed his passage. He resumed his sprint and disappeared quickly behind the houses.
Had he been motivated, inspired or simply amused by this encounter? Derpy feared she might never learn.
---
"It needs to be longer!" Trixie suggested.
"No, this thickness is all we really need to care about!" Bacoltermann insisted.
"Does it really matter?" Twilight asked. "This is a dumb idea anyway!"
Bacoltermann looked at her disapprovingly. "And yet here you are," he said.
"You need a unicorn, right, well here I am."
"Hey, I am good too with telekinesis, I will have you know!" Trixie asserted.
"You're a showmare!"
"I am a great showmare!"
"But just a showmare!"
"Please, if you desperately have to bicker like old mares, do so elsewhere!" Bacoltermann ordered.
Twilight groaned.
"There's no way you're going to sharpen that pole in time, let me help," Trixie suggested. Trixie readied her magic and cast it upon the pole they had salvaged from a broken flagpole. The top of the pole twisted into a thin point worthy of being classed as perhaps the worlds largest screw.
"That will get in good!" Bacoltermann said gleefully.
"Now to launch it," Trixie said.
She barely raised the pole, or missile, with her magic, struggling, not with the weight itself, but its distribution. Bacoltermann seemed too enthusiastic about this plan, but it got Twilight thinking back to his previously admitted dislike of dragons. Perhaps the chance to boast about having killed one was too good to pass up on for him, but fact of the matter was that ultimately Twilight or Trixie had fire the improvised weapon.
"Twilight, I have grave news!" Zecora yelled as she came running around the corner.
"What now, Zecora?"
"When Pathfinder said for Trixie to make her mind up, it was not for any other reason than to set her own plan up. She has run off to lure the dragon, if you cannot quickly find a suitable weapon-..."
"Don't worry, we've got that covered," Bacoltermann said, without as much as looking at Zecora. "Now to get this missile over to the baddie."
Zecora inspected the altered flagpole with a mixture of intrigue and disappointment.
"How will this be of use? Surely you have others items from which to choose?" Zecora suggested.
Bacoltermann sighed and began turning around to face her.
"Listen, sweetlick -..." he tried but stopped when he saw the zebra. "Ahem... I mean to say, of course..."
"Save it, this will do!" Trixie complained as she began moving the missile out into the street.
"Now, now, let's not be hasty, I'll hear what this lady has to say."
Twilight was quick to beat Bacoltermann over the head.
"Okay, old mister, you have a dragon to slay, don't you? C'mon, we're losing daylight, and you your dignity!
"You plan on slaying a dragon?!" Zecora asked.
"Eh..." Bacoltermann struggled, "... sometimes a stallion's got to do what a stallion's got to do... right?" he finished as he walked alongside Trixie, barely averting his eyes from her.
Twilight followed afterwards and shook her head in disbelief. He was clearly a pony with a penchant for zebras, but he could not hold that thought for just one moment, could he?
"Okay, the dragon's just up ahead. We can sneak up relatively undetected if we keep it slow and steady," Bacoltermann said.
"Easy for you to say," Trixie nagged.
"Fine, I'll take it!" Twilight complained and stole the missile from of Trixie influence.
"Hey!"
As Twilight took a bare three steps out toward the open a sudden force grabbed the missile and pulled it away from her.
"Hey, Trixie! Now's not time!"
"That wasn't me! That was Pilgrim!"
"Oh yeah? And who's this Pilgrim of yours?"
"Right there!" Trixie said and pointed.
Out on the open street, headed for the dragon, ran a bipedal creature dragging the missile over his shoulder.
"What in the bloody salt of the seas is..." Bacoltermann struggled. "... is that Hyde?"
"It cannot be!" Zecora yelped.
"It's him! That's the creature Merry took a photo of!" Twilight yelled.
"It is, I see that now!" Bacoltermann agreed.
"But I thought I killed him," Zecora cried. "He's still amongst the living?!"
"Woo! Pilgrim, you go!" Trixie cheered. "A thirty-so bandits were no match for you, now score us a dragon!"
"Pilgrim? You know that thing?!" Twilight asked.
"Duh! I called him by name, didn't I?"
"Where's he taking our weapon?" Bacoltermann asked as he began chasing after the thief.
"Wait, don't chase after him! He's dangerous!" Twilight warned.
"I have to see this!" Zecora said and followed.
"Not you too!"
"Stay here and miss the show, this time I want to see the action!" Trixie said and laughed sadistically.
Twilight was now alone. Before her Hyde had just ran past and taken their weapon. He was charging toward a raging dragon without a care in the world. Zecora seemed almost happy to see him alive. Trixie claimed to know him and was glad to see him dive into action. Did Twilight miss something, or was his previous, heinous acts of violence against the Ponyvillians not something worth considering any longer?
"Wait, killed him? What did you mean by that, Zecora?!" Twilight asked as she chased after.
---
Applejack was close to both Big Macintosh and Pipsqueak who was exercising every muscle in his being to not run back inside the school house.
"You're a brave colt, y'hear?" Applejack praised.
"Uh... thanks," Pipsqueak mumbled.
"Now listen up children," Cheerilee started, "now I want each of you to follow these instructions. It is very important that each of you heed these words as when next time comes, and it is a very real scenario, you could get really hurt. Are we clear?"
"Yes, miss," the gathered students acknowledged reluctantly.
"Where's Apple Bloom, anyway?" Cheerilee whispered.
"In the orchard, since I grounded her," Applejack admitted.
"Well, she's safer there, yes?"
"For now."
"When do we call for the Wight?" Pipsqueak asked.
"Soon, trust me," Applejack reassured.
Applejack walked around the school house to look back into town. She could see the dragon's head over the roofs as it trampled around the place it was in. From Applejack's knowledge of the town, she'd guess he was still in the town square. His purpose there seemed almost surreal, as he must have waited a very long time for seemingly nothing, but each minute meant a fire was easily spreading. And it already had begun. In a spell of impatience the dragon had lit fire upon the surrounding houses, and he meant for it to last.
"Oh sweet mercy..." Applejack sighed. "If only Celestia would see us now."
Suddenly a piercing shout broke through the air and almost sent Applejack tumbling over. It sounded almost like a word, but that could have been just her imagination. More importantly, however, she recognised the voice. Ear-piercing though it might have been, she had heard that voice before, on that same night Winona was taken.
"The Wight of the Waters...?"
Applejack galloped as fast as her legs would permit toward town square. She felt compelled to find out what that shout was coming from, and what it meant.
---
"In the end I have no answers, but still a clue lying about. But this time I have only to take it and all will become clear," Princess Celestia said with a hopeful tone.
"And all you have to do is ask Pathfinder, right?"
"Yes, Spike. But I remember our deal: I make sure she is safe from the dragons and she finds Rainbow Dash. Once she has fulfilled her end of the bargain, she would likely be inclined to answer too."
"Maybe she's already found her? Should I go back and check?"
"I could have done that before you left this castle, Spike, so no, I wouldn't ask of you."
Spike nodded in a way of saying 'of course, what was I thinking?' and shrugged. "So, what else is there? Something about dragons other than these? Anything useful or interesting?" he asked.
"Not certain. I have encountered a number of scriptures written in a dialect I am not well versed in. Thus I have yet to read all of them."
"There has got to be something, right?" Spike insisted as he dug through the many untouched articles.
Princess Celestia remained strangely silent and Spike soon took notice.
"Um, it is okay if I look... Your Highness?"
"... Yes, Spike. You may."
"... Okay..."
Spike stopped all of a sudden. He glimpsed back at the princess for a brief moment before pulling out a card folder titled 'eggs'.
"There... is this..." he tried.
"Whatever is in there, Spike, don't think too hard on it. I cannot be sure if it is true."
"What is true?" Spike asked and placed the folder on the table.
"Maybe I am not the one who should tell you."
"Tell me what?" Spike asked and opened the folder.
The folder containen many illustrations, some rough, some detailed, and some even coloured; documenting, not only eggs, but a variety of growth stages of specific dragons. One caught is attention. Lilac at youth, with a green crest. Growing up to later turn azure. Hatching from a green and purple egg, labelled 'Sky Tyrant'.
"That's... my own..."
Princess Celestia sighed weakly.
"... egg."
"Maybe, Spike. Just maybe."
"What happened to them all, did they die? Are my kind extinct?" Spike asked.
"I do not know, Spike."
"How long have I been in an egg?! Three hundred years? I didn't know we could be left alone for that long time!"
"Dragon eggs are amongst few that hatch only when the time is right."
"Princess Celestia, Your Highness, I don't know how to feel about this, what other possibilities are there? Maybe it is just a coincidence, right?"
"Yes, but the only dragon that shares you egg mark would probably had been red and not purple."
"A rare case of mutated skin pigments, or something, right? Purple is just red with a bit of blue in it...?"
"But that dragon did not have a green crest."
"Pigmentation...?"
"Wrong colour."
Spike sat down.
"Wow... now that I can finally shed some light on my own existence, I suddenly don't like my history any more. The Sky Tyrants were bad dragons, weren't they?"
"Perhaps. I did not suffer under their rule."
"Pathfinder... she will know. We have to talk to her."
"Then I can take you to Ponyville, and you can find out for sure."
The door to the study burst open suddenly and Luna came running in with the face of terror.
"Sister, Ponyville is ablaze!"
"What?!"
"A dragon has attacked the town and is laying it to ruins!"
"Spike, I will take us there now, ready?" Princess Celestia asked.
"Wha- yes, yes of course!"
"Luna, remain here. There are matters of which you are yet not privy, and I wish to keep it that way."
"What matters, sister?" Princess Luna asked.
"Not now, Luna!" Princess Celestia exclaimed as she readied her spell.
In a loud crack Spike was dragged with the princess into an blinding ray of light, and Luna was left behind in the study.
---
Brawler handed his binoculars to Itch and gave him a perplexed look.
"What?" Itch asked.
"Something you want to tell me?" Brawler suggested.
"No...? Why?"
Itch looked through the binoculars and observed the strange change of behaviour of the dragon. Something at caught its attention and made it alter every thing about its behaviour and purpose. As if deterred from proceeding with his mission.
"No... still nothing... to say," Itch said.
"Oh, because, you see, that dragon looks terrified. It looks like it's mother is just about to smack him good for stealing the last diamond from the diamond jar, don't you think?"
Itch thought for a moment before replying: "... Yes?"
Then it came to view. That one thing Itch had hoped now gone. The griffon-like creature walked into view, Scratch's killer, only a fraction the size of the dragon, yet so intimidating as it had been in person.
"What's it shirking from?" Brawler asked.
"I don't know, some... I don't know what that is," Itch lied.
"Give me those back!" Brawler growled and took back his binoculars. "What is that? It looks like the bastard-child of a dog and an anvil, had the uncle been a lizard!"
"... Spooky," Itch remarked.
The two dogs turned their attention to the boss who, from the privacy of his own tent observed the events. But he did not appear moved by the change in a bad way; amused, in fact.
"You don't seem... nerved," Brawler said.
"A twist, such poetic justice, no?" the boss riddled. "But should the dragon die, did you not say I was still the profiteer?"
"Yes, but what of the horse?"
"I see no horse."
Brawler turned to Itch.
"You were certain it lived here?"
"Yes, yes of course," Itch said, once again lying. He had had absolutely no guarantee on the matter.
---
A damning sight was to be beheld as that champion only twice and a bit more taller than a pony challenged the dragon to a stand off. They stared each other dead in the eyes for what seemed like forever. The dragon clenched a wagon in its claw, the champion held a spear of twisted metal.
The champion spoke unintelligibly at the dragon with a tone that was both commanding and dominating. The dragon appeared to falter at the meaning behind the language which nopony could understand, but the dragon would not reply.
It was then Princess Celestia found her place in the gathered audience, discreetly and completely unbeknownst to anypony already present. The princess understood everything.
"You take nothing, and you leave; in turn I shall see you walk away, and I will not strike you down," the champion bargained.
The dragon laid down the wagon in its grip and leaned forward towards the champion. Cautiously.
"I say 'back away' fiend, back away and leave what I lay claim to!"
The dragon let out a laugh. "Wretched creature, you. Why do you come here, from so far, to make demands of me?"
"I keep these as I have always done with equines! Leave dragon, or I strike you down," the champion threatened.
The dragon laughed once more and drew breath - intending to burn the champion with his fiery breath. The champion responded in kind and audibly inhaled as well, but was the first one to act; he let out a booming howl which formed a clear meaning:
AWAY!
The winds drew by with such sudden intensity that nearby thatch-roofs split and tore off and killed their fires, the ponies gathered all lost their centre of gravity as they were being pulled toward the champion, but most affected by all: the dragon was caught in an immaterial force that blew him over and hit the pavement with a earth shaking impact.
The dragon cried out in shock as he struggled to regain his balance. It climbed back up on its feet as took a hasty few steps of retreat.
"The warnings were true!?" the dragon demanded.
"Know me, dragon, and my lineage. For the Sky Tyrants perished as testament to our reckoning!" the champion proclaimed boldly.
"A Child of the End...?" Princess Celestia whispered.
The dragon turned his back and slowly walked away, keeping one eye focused on his rear as he stumbled away. In a brief moment of uncertainty it appeared the champion had turned his attention away from the dragon and looked behind himself over the ponies who had gathered. The dragon saw this.
In haste the dragon turned once more and charged back. Hoping to outsmart the champion through deceit, the dragon had merely feigned his surrender. As the audience cried out in panic, the champion took notice of the incoming dragon and drew breath once more. He let out another loud call:
DOWN!
The dragon fell down flat onto the ground and slid with the momentum. His head stopped just next to the champion as he puzzled over what had happened. All ponies were pulled to the ground as well, save Celestia who stared in awe at the sudden twist. The champion raised the over-sized spear he had been holding and trained it down upon the dragon.
"I lay you to rest, and return you to the world, fiend of deception," the champion uttered as he plunged the spear down into the dragon's head.
The dragon fell silent, and soon too its body lost all signs of life.
---
"Ah... well that was interesting..." Brawler remarked.
"How goes the movement of the dragon's hoard?" the boss asked.
"Perhaps we should just go and see for ourselves," Brawler replied.
"Why?"
"Because I am more than certain I can see none other than the princess of Canterlot herself down there."
"Fair point."
The dogs formed their own retreat, leaving a few sweepers to ensure no evidence of their presence were found.
---
As silence had befallen the dragon, so had it befallen the audience. Though a saviour, the stranger had strange motive and fortune to be where he was, and what he had said would not have eased the mind of any pony who had understood it. Princess Celestia tried to be the first to step forth and even drew breath to speak, when all of a sudden a loud cheer interrupted her.
"Pilgrim, you did it!" a blue unicorn cheered as she skipped over the still laid down the audience, "I knew you could do it!"
The blue unicorn was the very one who had been acting on stage earlier that day, the travelling showmare Trixie. She was the first to approach the champion, the first to call to him, and the first to accept him vocally. Pilgrim?
"You know this stranger?" Princess Celestia asked aloud.
Her voice alarmed many of the gathered who turned around to face her, before hastily bowing to her presence.
"He's my partner since a few days ago," Trixie replied. "He's a doctor of sorts, or so he told me. His name is Pilgrim."
"You speak a dragon's language, then?"
"No, why?"
Princess Celestia stepped forth and met Trixie who stood between her and the afore named Pilgrim.
"How, otherwise, do you know him?" she asked.
"Not too well, actually. He's not a talker, but he's very protective," Trixie explained. "I saved him from a band of bandits, but then he saved me from them instead... unless I did not completely dream that part up myself."
Princess Celestia decided no to think on that statement too much. "What do you know of him?"
"Why don't you ask him yourself? He's very inclined to answer questions."
"We'll see about that," the princess thought. "Nemesis of dragons, from where do you come?"
Pilgrim did reply, even though Princess Celestia had addressed him in the draconic tongue she had heard him utter before.
"How will I address him best?" Princess Celestia asked.
"Oh, uh, let me try something," Trixie said and turned to Pilgrim and readied a spell.
Pilgrim turned his attention suddenly toward the princess, approached her closely, allowing all to see how his height near was a match of hers.
"A tyrant of this realm is an equine. It addresses me without prior knowledge of my being. I will want to know how this is," Pilgrim riddled.
"Tyrant is a title for a ruler, is it not?" Princess Celestia asked.
"Even an equine could have filled that role, though I had never heard of one."
"Wait, he talks?" Trixie asked.
"Where do you come from?" the princess asked.
"The stars tell me north-west. Beyond a great mountain range spanning over ocean. The Sky Curtains," Pilgrim suggested.
"The Sky Tyrants live there, do they not?"
"No more, that is now merely a roost for dragons who wish to subvert our attention."
"Who's attention?"
"Us, the children. We who inhabit Heaven Over The Azure."
"You should say something," Rarity urged.
"I know... it's... just, uh... I dunno..." Applejack struggled.
"Anything will do."
"I know!"
"Do you want me to be there with your?"
"Ye- uh, no, I mean..." Applejack groaned loudly, "yes I want somepony there. I ain't never dreamt of doing this before."
Applejack and Rarity stood by the corner of a bush in the park. Only yesterday had a dragon been slain and a stranger had been the saviour. To mark it all up even the princess herself had arrived to watch the fight - which had been a strangely uneventful occasion, thank the heavens. That stranger, however, was the very same creature Applejack had spent the last few days planning her revenge on for stealing away with her dog Winona, but from this daylight view, he was no more a monster than a misshapen dog of sorts.
Pilgrim - as this Wight of the Waters, or Hyde, was named - sat on a park bench and basked in the sunlight. He was slouched back as if emulating the burden of many nights bereft of sleep. He was alone in mind, but not in presence as he shared his parkbench with an aquamarine unicorn, sat in a similar fashion; a coincidence or imitation of the other, whomever had sat down first.
"Maybe he's sleepin', I'll try later," Applejack deflected and turned around.
"No, no you won't. This will only hurt you more if you wait."
"I know, I know! But... he did take down a dragon by himself, we all saw that, and you said yerself he saved Sweetie Belle from the burning building." Applejack shook her head. "He's just not the monster I thought he was."
"No..." Rarity thought for a moment. "Maybe he's not."
"But I know he took Winona... I'll never forget those eyes. I can't."
Rarity pushed Applejack out onto the park promenade.
"Come on, let's get it over with before you think this one through," she lectured.
"But I -"
"Off we go," Rarity said and led Applejack up to the seated creature.
Applejack stared in fright at Pilgrim as if he was about to bite down into her face.
"Eh, oh... uh, uhm..."
"Speak up, darling. You must."
Pilgrim nodded his head slightly, conveying a form of detachment to his visitors.
"Hi, uh, Pilgrim...?" Applejack started, but received no response. "Uh, we met a few days ago a night... when, uh..."
"Be more direct," Rarity said.
"Well you tell him, then!" Applejack growled. "I'm tryin' my best."
"I don't think he's going to listen, girls," the aquamarine unicorn said, "I think he's sleeping."
"Sleeping? But's it's noon!" Rarity said and poked Pilgrim on the chest without a reaction.
"He was sitting here and watching the horse over there."
"Who?" Applejack asked and turned around and saw Pathfinder napping in kind near a flowerbed. "Pathfinder? What for?"
"That's her name? She was the one coordinating the evacuation to the river, right? Well, I don't know, she never said anything."
"Hey, Pathfinder!" Rarity called. "Do you know Pilgrim?"
"Why you gotta go be so direct, Rarity?" Applejack cried.
"You are all the time, why can't I be now?"
Pathfinder shook her head, having been awoke by Rarity's calling. She trotted over sluggishly and laid down next to the two ponies.
"You called..." Pathfinder murmured.
"Why, you look like you've been crying all night! Did you sleep at all?" Rarity asked, though she could tell from Pathfinder's face she was barely able to keep open her eyes.
"Yes," Pathfinder outright lied.
Pilgrim seemed to twitch and groaned lightly.
"Applejack here has a few things she need to say to Pilgrim, but he seems to be asleep. Was he with you before?" Rarity asked.
"No, he was exactly where he is sitting now, only he was awake then."
"I meant, do you know each other?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Well," Pathfinder sighed, "he's my master."
Applejack bit her tongue at the revelation. Though it was not such a big surprise considering her first suspicions; to be told outright was a shock of its own.
A confused and indeterminable sound of argument closed in on the location as soon Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle Bacoltermann, Black Hoof and Trixie arrived at the scene.
"I don't really care for your enthusiasm, Manny, but he's a danger. That dragon only proved his potency."
"You're overreacting, Twilight. That there was heroism, plain and simple!"
"If you two are quite done arguing, perhaps I, who have actually spent the last few days with him and gotten to know him personally, could voice my opinion on the matter?"
"Enough everypony, I will take over here," the princess said firmly.
"Your Highness!" Rarity called out and bowed. Applejack followed suit.
"Pathfinder, you have done good on your end," Princess Celestia said.
"Ironically we had a dragon attack right thereafter," Pathfinder said coldly.
"That was unfortunate. But I believe it was no mere coincidence."
"I wonder."
"Have some respect for royalty, will you!" Twilight demanded.
"She needs not, Twilight. She had all rights to be resentful," Princess Celestia asserted.
The only body not reacting to the princess' presence were none other than Pilgrim who sat there still as if untouched by reality.
"May I wake him?" Princess Celestia asked.
"I serve him, not the other way around," Pathfinder explained, "but it seems he has not slept for many cycles."
"Well he's been working constantly for the last few days when we were on our way to Manehattan," Trixie said. "I think the first time I actually saw him nap was on my way here... then again I forgot most things that happened back in the city."
"Ahem," Princess Celestia expressed audibly as she nudged Pilgrim.
Pilgrim raised his head slowly and dug around inside his helmet as he groaned.
"Wow, he never looked this tired," Trixie remarked. "Maybe we should let him sleep?"
"No, I will not wait longer than I have to," the princess said.
Pilgrim glanced around for a moment to survey his surrounding. Upon noticing his bench mate he immediately stretched his nearer appendage over to her a patted her on the neck; she met this gesture with a confused smile and a nervous chuckle. He then turned his attention to Applejack and cocked his head for a moment but then turned his attention to Rarity and nodded. When he then saw Pathfinder he knelt down in front of her and gave her face a thorough scratching, which seemed to wake her up. Finally he looked over the the princess slowly arose.
"I ask that you speak with me," Princess Celestia said.
"I will hear it," he replied.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Pilgrim."
"What are you?"
"A child."
Princess Celestia rolled her eyes.
"I want to know what there is to know about you."
Pilgrim held his forelimbs out and formed a short-headed cross.
"I am what you see. Many names can describe me now, and I am no one to choose which fits me best. In this tongue, however, me and my kind are called 'children'."
"I am content with that much for now, but tell me, then, what you did to that dragon."
"When it did not accept my terms for its surrender I killed it. I have no patience for subversion."
"Did you have to kill it?"
"False."
"Why did you kill it?"
"It was a simple alternative."
"An alternative to what?"
"Diplomacy."
"You favour diplomacy," Princess Celestia pressed.
"True."
"Why have you come here?"
"I am exiled."
"For what?"
"Provoking unrest."
"With whom?"
"I will not answer."
Princess Celstia realised she could not press Pilgrim further on that subject. He was a blunt speaker who expressed only sincerity in his words in the strictest form and efficiency; perhaps, then, she did not want to know the answer, and he was keeping it from her out of courtesy,
"Are you a danger to us?" Princess Celstia asked finally.
Pilgrim took a moment before replying.
---
Rainbow Dash had the hardest time coming to terms with yesterday's events. It was almost as if it had never happened. Derpy assured her that she had found Hyde and that he had saved Ponyville from an attacking dragon.
"So why, then, did we have to fight when we did?" Rainbow Dash wondered. "Derpy, did Hyde... y'know... eat that doe?"
Derpy shook her head as a gesture to inform her lack of knowledge.
"Huh... I doubt the doe provoked him, though. Maybe he's predatory like we thought. That might explain why he'd fight a dragon, right?"
"Oh, I doubt that..." Scootaloo remarked.
"Maybe he's a dragon hunter?" Apple Bloom suggested.
"Weren't you under house arrest?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Well nopony but Granny Smith was watching the farm, so we snuck her out," Sweetie Belle explained.
"He heh! Clever ponies!" Rainbow Dash looked over to Blue Hoof, who was fast asleep. "So, Princess Celestia is in town, I heard."
"Yeah, she took an odd interest in Pilgrim... royal stuff like that, y'know," Scootaloo said.
"Royal stuff, huh...? I think I want in on that."
"Rarity said Pilgrim took on the dragon single hoofedly, and that he saved me from Carousel Boutique when it was burning down," Sweetie Belle said. "But I can't really remember any of that."
"A hero, eh? That's interesting..." Rainbow Dash remarked. "I'm gonna have to sleep on this for a while, if you guys don't mind."
"But you never like sleeping in a hospital," Scootaloo remarked.
"This is just an exception, I promise. Now scoot, will ya?"
---
"What was just said?" Bacoltermann asked. "Did something happen?"
"I want him gone, and soon," Princess Celestia said.
"Your Highness!" Rarity gasped. "You cannot be serious, Pilgrim here saved my sister's life!"
Princess Celesetia looked upon Rarity to hear her story.
"She was trapped inside the boutique and Pilgrim broke in and rescued her. He's a hero in my book!"
"And there is also that insignificant matter that he killed a dragon, Your Highness," Bacoltermann added.
"So what?" Twilight challenged. "What does that show other than that he is a danger?"
"A dragon that set fire to half the roofs in town and most cannot be repaired as I saw it, I say it says a lot in his favour," Black Hoof said. "Besides, Pilgrim so far has no collateral under his belt, right?"
"Did you forget about Winona?"
"... Oh, yeah. That dog. But there are plenty reasons to put down a dog, like if it was aggressive."
"Winona was better than that!" Applejack yelled.
Pathfinder seemed to give Applejack a disagreeing look and shook her head gently.
"No matter, I shall make no official decisions on this subject at this time," Princess Celestia asserted.
"Oh, thank you!" Rarity cheered.
"I advice you do not think too positively on that notion, Rarity."
Rarity controlled her blissful expression and nodded.
"Everypony, I wish to be alone with Pilgrim for a moment," the princess ordered.
Reluctantly the audience dispersed leaving Princess Celestia alone with Pilgrim and Pathfinder.
"I asked to be alone with him."
Pathfinder glared coldly at the princess and remained in her place.
"You command admirable respect," Pilgrim remarked.
"You command admirable loyalty from your horse," Princess Celestia replied dryly.
Pilgrim looked down on Pathfinder who hastily averted her eyes from the princess. "I am the safest place for her to be."
"I am convinced of that. But I wish for you to return from where you came."
Pilgrim growled. Pathfinder trained her eyes back on Princess Celestia.
"I will leave," Pilgrim said.
"I want no more of your kind here in my land."
"I will not hold to that."
"Why?"
"A farfared directed me here. His duty is to retell of this land. There will be a coming," Pilgrim warned.
"Can it be stopped?"
"Yes."
"How can I"
"IKill all who come."
"I have no desire to kill any one thing or being."
"Then it cannot be stopped."
Pilgrim gestured to Pathfinder and she arose to stand beside him. He climbed atop her back and sat down on her saddle.
"Intriguing use of a horse's garment," Princess Celestia commented.
"It is a saddle; this is its purpose."
Princess Celestia realised much earlier she was not so adept at the draconic tongue as she had once thought, but even simple words had never been taught to her. A saddle was indeed a saddle, even if she did not know the name of it. But its purpose was vastly different from culture to culture, it appeared.
"Your kind ride atop horses?"
"I am one such called rider" Pilgrim said and stroked his talons across Pathfinders head and down to the bottom of her neck. "There are others like me, who mount horses as their master."
"Slavery, then."
"Domestication. We do not practise slavery."
"Is this true, Pathfinder?" Princess Celestia asked, hoping the horse had understood the conversation.
Pathfinder swayed her head briefly before deciding on a nod, saying nought in the ways of words.
"It is folly, tyrant. Horses cannot speak."
Princess Celestia withdrew hastily at the blatant falsehood presented to her.
"Pathfinder, what does he mean by that?"
Pathfinder looked away and remained silent.
"Language creates disparity," Pilgrim explained. "I pray she would know well to remain silent."
"How have you silenced her?"
"She never spoke, tyrant. Horses do no talk."
---
"I wonder if it would be possible to talk to Hyde," Rainbow Dash wondered. "What would we talk about?"
Rainbow Dash had pondered for the longest time now how communication might work best, but had come to no conclusion for lack of evidence.
"You're awake still?" Black Hoof asked.
"When did you come back?"
"Now."
"Well, what's goin' on?"
"Erm... not sure how to say this: your princess wants Pilgrim gone."
"Who?"
"Hyde?"
"He's got a name already? I really liked my suggestion! But, why? Why does she want him gone?"
"He's... 'dangerous'," Black Hoof replied mockingly.
"Shouldn't I be the judge of that? Where's my vote in this?"
"Nowhere. Her Majesty makes the verdict herself it would seem."
"Aw... lame..."
"You wanted to see him?"
"Duh! I've had funny visions since I first met him, now it won't go away."
"You never mentioned that."
"Nah, I thought I was just having a creative mind, what with all the reading I've been doing... but something was off."
"Do tell."
"Have you ever seen blue-leaved tree with silvery trunks?"
"Not in my line of work, no?"
"That was my vision, and I was sharing this little cosy place by a pond with a unicorn and we would just sit there and say nothing."
"Sounds romantic, I suppose."
"Yeah, until I hit her across the head with a sharp rock! I mean, where did that come from?"
"You... what?"
Rainbow Dash laughed uncontrollably.
"It's absolutely crazy, right? But every time I sleep I have that dream at some point or another. And I always end up killing her. Worst part is, that unicorn looks kind of like Princess Celestia. Sometimes Rarity; always a white unicorn."
"You want to tell the nurse or doctor about that?"
"Aw, c'mon, it's just a dream, right?"
"Hmh, I wouldn't be so sure. What with everything going on, I'd almost believe in prophecies."
"I've had those dreams too, Rainbow Dash," Blue Hoof said. "It was awful, but I didn't think to tell anypony."
"Ah..." Black Hoof walked up to his daughter and stroked her mane. "Maybe we should definitely tell somepony."
"Like who?" Rainbow Dash asked. "Princess Celestia?"
"Maybe. She might have a thought or two about it."
---
"That is the offer I extend to you, tyrant. Else I will settle it in a duel," Pilgrim said firmly and threw a bound satchel at Princess Celestia's hooves.
Princess Celestia thought long and hard on what had been said and what offer she had just been presented with.
"I will not answer now, Pilgrim."
"Then think on it."
Pilgrim gave Pathfinder a light kick on her side and she cantered away with Pilgrim upon her back. She had not uttered a single word in the awoken presence of Pilgrim, her master. It was an alien concept that Princess Celestia had much desire to further investigate.
"What just happened?" the aquamarine unicorn by the bench asked.
"I... did not see you there," Princess Celstia confessed.
"Are you throwing away our hero? He saved my friend's life, y'know."
"He saved many, I understand," the princess sighed. She raised the satchel and slowly opened it, revealing a shocking content.
Applejack watched in dismay as Pathfinder, only days before happily working the orchard, was now proudly carrying her master upon her back like a beast of burden. Pilgrim sat on the saddle, as Pathfinder had once described, and surveyed the streets around him. It was impossible to tell his disposition as his face was hidden under the helmet he wore, and Applejack had vain hopes that perhaps he would look at her just one more time and recognise her.
He was a hero for the time being, but Applejack had not forgotten his deeds from before. But the more she thought about it now, Pathfinder's disapproval of Applejack defending Winona as a sweet and caring dog had some strange implication. Without a doubt had Pathfinder been in Sweet Apple Acres before, as Pilgrim was her one master and it was almost unfathomable she was merely a replacement horse to the one a few days ago. Why then was it necessary to kill the orchard's dog? Did Winona attack Pathfinder or Pilgrim and was murdered in self-defence? It was a sour apple indeed to think on, but it made sense even to her. Such a waste.
"Applejack!" Twilight called. "Why are you staring at him?"
"I dunno," Applejack confessed. "Part of me is torn on what to think about 'im. Pilgrim, y'know?"
"What's there to think? He's a danger, and I am sure Princess Celestia will see that."
"I wouldn't be so sure, Twi. That dragon was a right menace, I saw."
"We had it under control. Manny had us prepare a weapon before Pilgrim stole it from us."
"Ya'll tried to fight it? You must be crazy!" Applejack scolded, "What'd I do if any of ya'll got hurt?"
"You think too much on it and it will eat you, Applejack. At the time I was just going with the flow... so to speak." Twilight cleared her throat. "Oh, and Trixie was there too."
"Got some old faces comin' back it seems," Applejack chuckled.
"Well at least she seems to have changed as I said she would. And she has learnt a new trick or two as well." Twilight sneered in Pilgrim's direction. "But she also brought him over. And she goes around flaunting a little doll she says he made for her."
"A doll, huh? Well I'm not sayin' nothin' 'till I know all there is to it," Applejack asserted, "we were dead wrong 'bout Zecora, and Pilgrim might deserve just a smidgeon o' the benefit of a doubt."
"Applejack, he's not a zebra, but a complete unknown!"
"So? We didn't know what a zebra was 'till you told us, Twi."
Twilight let out an angry groan.
"Well I know something you probably don't," Twilight informed.
"Well, tell me then, Twi."
"After Pilgrim killed the dragon, he did something really horrible."
"... Yes?"
"He cut the dragon's skin off, like the dogs in Trottingham Waterfronts do to the animals they hunt."
Applejack coughed. "Yer not serious are you?"
"Need proof? Just don't breath through your nose!"
Twilight led Applejack to the town square where she had planned on showing her the dragon's skinless carcass. A strange dark smoke came from behind the houses on the way and Twilight was beginning to wonder if that was as she had seen in last night. She had taken the lion's share of her sleeping time to observe the hoofwork of Pilgrim as he dealt with the dragon's body. Meticulously, she recalled, Pilgrim had carved through the dragon's skin around various key points of its body and torn off the skin like a blanket before leaving the body. The smell had been bad then, now it surely would have become nearly overwhelming.
That is if there was a body left to decay. As Twilight and Applejack arrived in the town square it became obvious that an agent had seen to the disposal of the corpse. In its stead: a heap of ash and crumbled matter.
"Did I miss a bonfire or sumthin'?" Applejack asked. "Where's the ash come from?"
"Where's the body?" Twilight wondered.
"Don't touch it, I told you already!" a mare scolded her colt.
There was a small audience gathered around the ash pile trying to find out where the remains had gone.
"Did anypony see what happened to the dragon?" a stallion asked.
"I was wondering the same thing," another stallion replied.
"Did Celestia do this?"
"Where's the skin then?" Twilight asked herself. "I saw Pilgrim just leave it here."
The sound of a screaming child echoes through the street as a terror-stricken Spike came running.
"RARITY'S GONE CRAZY!" he cried.
"Rarity's gone wut?" Applejack inquired as she intercepted the little dragon. "What happened?"
"Carousel Boutique!" Spike panted. "Rarity's turned it... into a... a... a thing!"
Twilight rolled her eyes. Had it really gone past Spike's head that Rarity was one of the few ponies who almost lost her home to the dragon?
"Spike, just take us there and I will explain on the way," Twilight ordered.
As the trio headed for Carousel Boutique, Twilight explained in length that Rarity was no, in fact, trying out a new design for her house, but that it had been damaged in yesterday's event. But that was not so, it seemed, as a much intact boutique stood at their final destination; with some alterations.
"Oh, sweet Celestia have mercy..." Applejack muttered. "Gal's gone outta her mind."
"Close your eyes, Spike," Twilight advised.
"Mm-hm," Spike uttered as he turned around.
"Why would she do this?"
Twilight walked over to the boutique and inspected the renovation. Green was the colour and the windows were mostly covered. The door was given a make-shift curtain for lack of an actual threshold to attach a door to and the splintered corners had been carefully carved down to smooth surfaces.
The old Carousel Boutique was now the body upon which the dead dragon's skin had been wrapped around like tarpaulin. And it emanated the smell of residual perspiration and soft rot.
"We have to get this down, Applejack, before anypony else sees this," Twilight said.
"But how?" Applejack asked as she trotted over. "I'd have to gallop all the way back to the orchard to get the tools for the job."
"I'll use my magic, just catch it when it falls, okay?"
"Uh, sure, I think I can do that."
A loud shriek came from behind the two ponies as the voice of Rarity approached.
"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BOUTIQUE!?"
"Rarity, you didn't do this?!" Twilight asked.
"Of course not! Oh, this is absolutely savage!"
"Why do I get the feelin' I know the culprit?" Applejack whispered.
"Not the time!" Twilight exclaimed.
"I, eh, I, oh, well, ah..." Rarity struggled. "... when?!"
"Spike found it like this this morning."
"Gonna... faint," Spike whined.
Rarity spent a longest while trampling back and forth trying to get to grips with herself while Spike slowly spaced out into a deep, almost comatose state. Twilight began prying the heavy skin off of the walls to fold over for Applejack to drag away, but realised soon whoever placed the skin onto the house meant for it to stay.
"Who do you suspect?" Twilight whispered to Applejack.
"Pilgrim, I reckon. If only I could see the house without the skin I could also take a guess at why he did it."
"Is that even important right now?"
"Maybe, Twi... maybe."
---
Fluttershy sat on the stairs outside Sugar Cube Corner and watched, like all the other ponies, as the great horse trotted through the street carrying proudly on her back the hero of Ponyville. Strangely, especially for Fluttershy, she did not find this visage to be as scary as most, perhaps out of some ingrained idea that something that fights dragons are somehow a good thing. She did not quite understand it, but it was not a discomforting sight to behold.
"I wish I could be so brave," Fluttershy sighed.
"Wat'cha staring at him for, Flutters?" Pinkie Pie asked from inside the shop.
"Well, um, you see... in Trottingham I got to see something that was like Pilgrim over there and I was absolutely terrified of it. But now... I don't think I am so scared any more."
"Good for you, girl! Overcoming one fear at a time, and making good progress!"
"Well, no, just not scared of him..."
Pilgrim jumped off the horse's back and looked around. Instinctively the nearby ponies gave him a large space to himself.
"Hmh, he looks kinda lost," Pinkie Pie remarked. "Should we perhaps give him a tour?"
"Oh, no, that would be much too intrusive, Pinkie. Maybe we should just let him be?"
Pinkie Pie had heard none of it as she was already molesting Pilgrim with her presence.
"Hi there, dragon slayer!" Pinkie Pie squealed in his face. She was balancing on her hind legs and stabilising herself by resting her front hooves on Pilgrim's shoulders. "I'm Pinkie Pie, and I'm gonna show you around!"
"Pinkie, please, let him -..." Fluttershy tried.
"Oh, it's gonna be so much fun! I'll show you the shops, the sights, the sounds, the streets - oh, and, of course! - Sugar Cube Corner! You're gonna love -..."
Pilgrim had all this time stumbled backwards as Pinkie Pie continued her banter and dragged the pink pony with him on his back stepping. At first it looked almost like a clumsy dance, until Pilgrim sunk his talons upon Pinkie Pie's sides and threw her aside violently. She hit her head on the ground and let out a loud grunt as Pilgrim made efforts to stand up straight again.
"Ow! That wasn't very nice!" Pinkie Pie complained.
"Pinkie, are you okay?" Fluttershy asked.
"Yeah, of course, but Mr Grumpy-Pants here needs to seriously take it down a notch!"
Pilgrim brushed his shoulders and turned his attention to the next point of intrigue, as if his throwing Pinkie Pie to the ground had never happened. It was like a cold 'forgive-and-forget' exchange that resulted in one pony getting hurt, while the other simply took his leave.
"Hey, Pathfinder, what was that about!?" Pinkie Pie demanded.
The horse shook her head reluctantly and avoided answering.
"I asked you a question!"
Pinkie Pie's squeals fell on deaf ears as Pilgrim led the horse away through the street.
"Maybe he isn't a hoofs-on kind of person...?" Fluttershy suggested.
"I've handled tough customers; but that one takes the cake!"
---
"And as you see, then, little ponies, that is how I ended up meeting Pilgrim, the equine doctor; and now-dubbed 'dragon slayer'!" Trixie told her audience as she played around with her wood carved doll Grimly, the Hustler.
The audience cheered together as Trixie made the doll dance in exotic manners no pony could emulate with a variety of moves ranging from rapid to extended movements of each individual limb. Though Trixie had yet to actually see her travelling partner dance, it was not completely impossible for her to guess what those dances might have looked like.
"What's that dance called?" one of the adult mares asked.
"Ehm... its a victory dance...?" Trixie tried. "A victory dance for, uh, good harvest!"
Not her finest lie, but it was not one to be disproven either today or tomorrow. However it was clear some ponies in the audience would take an immediate initiative to confirm the description.
"Now, um, for the next trick - though it would have been better if I actually had a stage to do it on... I'm going to need one of you to assist me in the world's hardest card trick!" Trixie invited.
"Hold your show," a powerful voice commanded.
"What...?" Trixie uttered as the Princess Celestia herself approached her.
"Trixie Lulamoon, I wish to speak with you," Princess Celestia said.
Feeling cornered, Trixie tip-toed over to the princess with a low-bowed head.
"Formalities won't be necessary for now, but I wish to speak with you alone," the princess explained.
"Okay, then, Your Highness. Lead the way!" Trixie said with a forced high tone.
"I understand that was your wagon," Princess Celestia said and pointed to the structurally compromised wagon that told a telling tale of a trampling.
"Uh... yes, Your Highness."
With a quick flash the princess used her magic to restore the wagon's integrity to its original condition and did away with any sign of lose splinter. Almost as if only just assembled at the factory line, the wagon had never looked so new in Trixie's eyes.
"Shall we?" Princess Celestia asked and headed for the wagon door.
Trixie shook her head to clear her nerves. Surely the princess didn't have a bone to pick with mere a performer, right?
Well established and comfortably sat inside the wagon with the curtains for all the windows pulled, Princess Celestia revealed a satchel that she placed upon the table. Trixie looked at the satchel with little to say other than nodding understandably; 'That's a satchel, princess,' was perhaps the unintended meaning of said nodding.
"Do you recognise this?" Princess Celestia asked.
"Yes," Trixie replied after a long time of thinking, "Pilgrim wore that around his mid-section."
"Did you ever learn what he kept inside it?"
"... No...?"
"Did you ever wonder what personal effects he possessed?"
"Eh... no, but - hear me out, You Highness - he does have some exotic weapons that he puts to good use, and, uh, um, he carries some ointments and remedies as well that he used on me after a bandit raid."
"And you said he was a doctor?"
"I did say that, didn't I?"
Princess Celestia slowly opened up the satchel one buckle at the time, pausing after each to give Trixie a glimpse in hope for a familiar reaction. Before opening it she stopped and asked.
"Do you know what this satchel is made out if?"
"No? Some thick fabric?"
Princess Celestia shook her head and revealed the content.
"Yellowy scales? What from?" Trixie asked.
"Trixie, how much do you know about Pilgrim's combat prowess?"
"Uhm, he did defeat a band of 30-something bandits on his own."
"Indeed? And he felled a dragon too."
Trixie sat in silence.
"And these scales are from another creature, even bigger than that dragon."
"Which one?" Trixie asked.
"A hydra."
Trixie swallowed and felt a cold sweat run down her back.
"Pilgrim is a potent creature, and I do not know what fuels him to do it. But where I try to maintain peace and balance, he takes to metal and runs through any obstacle before him." Princess Celestia laid the scales on the table and the satchel beside it. "How has he treated you since your encounter?"
"Well enough, considering we can't communicate with words," Trixie replied. "He's intrusive and direct, sure, but always for good reason. And when I realised he was that horse's master and they'd been separated by a terrible incident, I think I learnt a bit more about his personality."
"Which is, if you don't mind telling me, Miss Trixie?"
"I think he deep down cares for ponies and has dedicated his life to understanding us. Sure, I have a few cuts a bruises here and there, which he gave me some disinfectants for, but if there is any pony right now I trust with my safety, maybe it would be him."
"That satchel is not fabric, it's leather," the princess said.
"... Leather...?"
"Processed skin of a dead animal, commonly bovine and equine."
Trixie looked at the satchel in disbelief.
"Also, Trixie, you keep referring to Pilgrim as a pony. Why is that?"
"Well... isn't he?"
Princess Celestia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"No, Trixie. He is something very different."
"But... but I saw is face and everything! I know he's a pony! I've seen it with my own eyes!"
"He appears capable of controlling minds. Perhaps Pilgrim has you under a memory control to alter your perception of him."
"... No, he wouldn't!" Trixie defended.
"I will say no more," Princess Celestia said and retrieved the scales and the satchel. "Whatever business you have with Pilgrim you better clear up shortly. Whatever comes, you will no longer be able to stay with him."
The princess left the wagon.
"The skin of a pony..." Trixie whimpered and hugged herself tightly.
---
She had not slept a decent moment last night for all the crying upon the discovery of her master being alive. Pathfinder had long thought herself bled dry of tears, but was this day heavier with emotion. She bore her master proudly on her back and allowed him to gaze upon the world from the comfort of her high back. He surveyed the town as he would any other surrounding and gave indicative nudges on her side when he was content with the view. Maybe life could be made simple again, or maybe things were changed forever, but it did not matter now that the two were finally reunited.
Pilgrim, her master, was as he had always been before the separated: mindful, calculating and observant. He saw every lesser equine around them and measured each one's dimensions, status and physical well-being. As with all of his kin, he would remember every detail without fail and if he had any intention of returning here, he was giving sure signs that he was considering such an action. And that pleased Pathfinder greatly.
Though she had only spent a mere cycle as a horse of labour, it was an easy life that she cherished and wanted to spend more time doing. Her other life as a war horse had her safely tucked in a stable and being meticulously groomed and cared for to ensure her physical health was never compromised. And what better dragon-deterrent than her own master now that he was back?
Pathfinder wanted to convey her desires to her master in the only manner she knew how: hinting. Though she could never speak her mind, perhaps her master would allow her the opportunity to show him the orchard she had lived in for the past few days. She turned around carefully toward Sweet Apple Acre to test the waters; when her master did not deny her the freedom, she began slowly walking towards it. Her master kept observing his surroundings without care for where he was being taken.
And inquisitive spotted colt approached Pathfinder as she made her way for her destination, and it was not an entirely unwelcome distraction. She could feel the broken momentum from her master having turned to face the colt and scanned it as he had every other pony in the surrounding.
"Is it really you? The Wight of the Waters?" the colt asked.
Pathfinder wanted to laugh but bit her lip.
"You came when I called for you! You beat the dragon!"
As expected, her master paid neither attention nor care for the colt's talk, as he likely did not perceive it as language. Horses in Heaven Over The Azure knew to keep silent for their own comfort and their master's clarity. A horse had no need for speech as far as this interracial agreement had led to, nor would her master's kind think to communicate beyond their own specie; they had no need to.
The colt was visibly moved by the lack of response and Pathfinder's master, who merely looked at him, did little to sate his hope for banter. But Pathfinder knew better than to tell the colt his attempts were in vain, for that would mean speaking herself.
"My name is Pipsqueak! What's your's?" the colt tried.
Now it was hard to hold back, and Pathfinder took to a canter to distance herself from the scene. She felt somewhat guilty, as she had deprived a young of the chance to explore and act upon curiosity, but it seemed necessary for now.
Her master took the the sudden movement as well as a horse could have expected and immediately took control by tugging at the lead and commanding a halt. The colt was far enough away that Pathfinder dared to obey, but this indiscretion would not always be a tool at her disposal.
A change of heart struck her master as Pathfinder was given the sudden order to 'traverse where she saw fit', though not by word and instead in a gentle nudge at her sides. If wise about it, Pathfinder would have have an ample opportunity to show her master the new home she had found.
---
Bacoltermann sat idly in Twilight's library ogling the book placed before him. He had come to Ponyville for one reason, and one reason only: find the Wight of the Waters, and make contact. Well he had found one, but so far not actually tried making contact.
The door swung open and a particularly interesting zebra walked in, taking Bacoltermann's attention away from the book altogether.
"Uh, can I help you?" Bacoltermann asked.
The zebra looked at him with a slight surprise in her face.
"No, but thank you for asking. I already know where to find for what I am looking," the zebra finally replied.
Not sure how to reply to a rhyme Bacoltermann let out an extended 'okay' and let himself sink back into his reading. There was a strange silence upon the library when only the zebra's hoofs tap against the floor as she surveyed the shelves. Bacoltermann tried not to pay too much attention, until he chanced upon a second good look at his encounter.
"Say, you're not from around?" he tried.
"This is true, but I believe the same of you," she replied.
"Yes, uh, my accent. Trottingham - the Waterfronts."
"By the ocean, are you? I hear the sea is good for the spirit; is that true?"
"Quite the sight during any season. Sound for mind, too, yes."
"You are Manny, I take. Here to see if this Wight is real or a fake?"
"You... rhyme a lot, miss...?"
"Zecora is my name. I make rhyming a conversation game."
"So I hear."
"Is it a weird custom? I could also not rhyme, it is suits you best."
"By all means, continue!" Bacoltermann said intently, no one to impose upon others. "Quite a charming... quirk, if I may say so myself."
"Ah, an appreciation for cultures, you have there. You must have travelled almost everywhere!"
"Not too far, actually. As far as the Griffin Empire and back, and one or two trip south. I used to be in the cargo shipment business until I turned shipwright," Bacoltermann explained.
"Any ships I might know of?"
"I built a flagship for the Royal Family. I also built The Canterborough; the finest ship in Trottingham."
Zecora did not seem familiar with either.
"Ahem... I also authored a number of books in my time. Em, I think Twilight might even have some in her library." Bacoltermann began searching the shelves for any book under his name.
"You need not, I am sure they are much to speak of. But I should take what I came for and be off."
"Not a problem, really - ah, 'The Trades', a story about a stowaway colt who finds himself in the Griffin Empire as a roayl serf. That one is perhaps one of my more famous pieces of literature," he said and presented Zecora with a copy.
Zecora looked at the cover before the book was hastily dropped to the floor.
"Yes, and she's got this one too: 'Discernible Discord', a detective novel about a mare who steals a crime investigation file to solve a murder case by herself. Quite a few zebras in that book too, if ever you wanted some more representation."
"That's fine, no need I think all I need I've already got," Zecora assured.
"You sure? There's this one: 'Party Down South: In the Heat with the Natives', a best-seller in Stableholm and Las Pegasus.
"I have not seen aught," Zecora said firmly and cleared her throat. She headed for the door and left the library without a good bye.
Bacoltermann thought for a moment about what had happened.
"I don't get it... did I scare her off?"
Block Hoof cantered into the library chuckling like a yearling high on sugar.
"Did you see that zebra?" he asked, "She looked like she was about to dig herself a hole in the ground. Priceless!"
"I don't know what I did! We were having a reasonably civil conversation, and then I showed her some of my books -..."
"Ah, before you continue," Black Hoof interrupted, "did you bring those books from home?"
"No, they were already here."
"Oh... continue, then. I'm waiting here!"
"Well I was showing her these three books and then when I showed her this one here..."
"'Party Down South: In the Heat with the Natives', that best-seller, yeah?"
"The very one -..."
"And then she ran?"
"Can I finish, Black Hoof?"
"Umph, yes, go ahead."
"So I showed her the cover and then she just ran off!" Bacoltermann finished.
"Mares, I tell you. You can't show them a decent article if you're proud of it. Always makes them blush or resentful."
"What's wrong with a tourist's hoofbook, anyway? It's not like I was presenting her with an eroti-..."
"... Yes?" Blac Hoof tried.
Bacoltermann sat down and said nothing for a long while. Black Hoof leaned in to see if his friend would even flicker his brow a little bit. Then it came. Bacoltermann began smacking himself over his face with the book he was holding.
"Stupid," he exclaimed after each beat, "stupid, stupid, stupid!"
"Uh, what's the matter?" Black Hoof asked.
"'Party Down South'?" Bacoltermann began, "party down south of what? The equator? Sure, that's what I would presume! But don't you just now realise what a big euphemism that really is? 'In the Heat with the Natives', ha ha! Had I sold the title as an erotic novel I would be richer than the that silver spoon-born Fancy Pants of Canterlot himself!"
Bacotlermann threw the book aside and rushed out the door, leaving Black Hoof as dumb as he was before the conversation.
"I still don't get it... where's the euphemism?"
---
The fashion unicorn was rolling on the grass and wallowing in self-pity. First her home was nearly demolished, and now it was a freak show.
"Why, oh, why me?!" she cried.
"How's it goin' over there, Twi?" Applejack whispered.
"About as well as I could do it, Applejack," Twilight replied, "what I can say is that this will come off eventually, but the whole place needs repainting."
"No major, then. We can fix it in a bit," Applejack assured. "Uh, look behind you."
Twilight turned around and saw the princess standing over her.
"Twilight Sparkle," Princess Celestia urged.
"Uh, erm..." Twilight tried.
"Oh, its awful!" Rarity wept, "somepony went and dressed my boutique up in dragon skin!"
"I see that," the princess asserted.
"We were just... taking it down."
"Mm, Twilight Sparkle," the princess started, "I must ask of you one thing now."
"Yes, Your Highness, anything!"
"Pilgrim must not leave Ponyville until I have made my decision of what is to be done with him."
Twilight gasped and fell into a coughing stupor. Applejack left her post and galloped over.
"Say what, princess?" Rarity exclaimed.
"He's dangerous, princess!" Twilight stressed.
"Are you sure 'bout this?" Applejack asked.
"You all heard me right, and I am certain. Pilgrim poses no threat to any one of you - I promise that. But Pilgrim is sly as a fox and possess greater mettle than a dragon, as we all witnsessed. Do not threaten him or Pathfinder. This goes doubly or you, Twilight, and any unicorn or pegasus."
After a moment of silence Twilight formed her response.
"Why, is he distrustful of unicorns and pegasi?"
"As for pegasi, you have Rainbow Dash to thank for that, speaking of which, I believe you should pay her a visit, rather than reconstructing a house," Princess Celestia said and used her magic on the dragon's skin. "Now, unicorns, on the other hoof. I cannot say where it comes from, but you have Trixie to thank for this chance to meet him on civilised grounds. So I suggest you pay her a visit after you've seen Rainbow Dash. And I want you to really thank her."
"So, how do we keep 'im in Ponville, do ya suppose?" Applejack asked.
"I suggested to Pilgrim to trust in Pathfinder's judgement. After all, it seems to be her namesake. Applejack, where would Pathfinder rather be now?"
"Uh, in my barn, I s'pose?"
"I will return to Canterlot; expect me to contact you very soon, Twilight Sparkle."
"Yes, Your Highness!" Twilight said.
"And remember, do not provoke Pilgrim."
Princess Celestia readied he spell and in a flash she was gone.
Rarity climbed back up on her fours and looked at her boutique.
"She reattached it all!?" she cried.
"C'mon, Twi, let's go see Rainbow Dash!"
The two ponies left Rarity and Spike at the scene as they made their way to the hospital.
Granny Smith saw out through the window and observed Pathfinder trotting in through the fence. It was only the other day Pathfinder had been fully saddled, but even Granny Smith could see some pieces were missing since then. The old mare stuck her head out the window and beckoned the horse.
"Good to see you again, missy. Got ourselves a new batch o' pies to go, but I need a sampler first, to make sure it is a good 'un!"
Pathfinder approached the window where Granny Smith served a slice in a plate. The scent itself was sure to put a smile on anypony's face, but before Pathfinder had time to form a facial response a talon swiped the slice away.
"What the? We got some gulls about here? Who's thievin' 'round my farm?!"
Into view came another figure stood next to Pathfinder. Holding in its clutch the slice of pie and inspecting it intently.
"Oh, my. Who's your friend, sweetie?"
Pathfinder did not reply.
Pathfinder's 'friend' completed its assessment of the pie and returned it to the plate, then led Pathfinder away.
"You're not gonna have a taste? Not even a teeny nibble?" Granny Smith hurried as best she could to the front door and stuck her head out. "Why don't you call Big Mac over then? He's out in the fields with Miss Cheerilee!"
Pathfinder followed her friend into the barn, remaining silent for the duration.
"Strange fellows comin' to town now. I reckon that's what the fuzz is all 'bout," the old mare retired on a chair by the front door, "dragons, tsk, town's goin' crazy."
Inside the barn Pathfinder observed how her master dug through the satchels she had brought with her to the farm. What it was he was looking for was any one's guess, but he seemed content with simply having found them. He then spoke, a rare luxury, but said very little:
"The tyrant will call me shortly. You must remain amongst the lesser equines when that time comes."
It was a most discouraging thought to imagine being separated again. He had spoken, but Pathfinder was not happy with the announcement and protested by stomping at the floor.
"Calm down," he ordered, "there is no sense in pulling you along now that you are safe. I will ensure you stay that way," he finished and walked over to Pathfinder's side.
To avoid hurting her master, Pathfinder stopped her demonstration as he began unsaddling her. He had no intention of staying by her side now that he had the opportunity, even after having been forcibly split up a few cycles ago. As he lifted off the saddle he continued speaking.
"I pray you find this place suitable. The grass is well and should keep you fed. The fruit is surely edible and I saw a river nearby where you can drink." He came back for the raiment and as he untied the first knot he looked into her eyes. "The farfarer said not to let these lands surprise us. I effort to feign normality. Likely you would wonder how I survived falling down that chasm."
Pathfinder pressed her muzzle onto his helmet, trying to reach the face under.
"I floated upon the wood fiend for times I could not perceive. I regained my bearings in a swampland where I was discovered by an amber dragon. It had many heads and no wings, a thing I had never seen before. But as a creature with many heads came many minds, and he succumbed to my influence without struggle. That kill earned me a trophy which I presented to the tyrant. That is why we have not been exiled from this land." He stroked her mane repeatedly as he continued. "And now I await our accord to be completed. We cannot return home until I am called back. That may be a long time."
Pathfinder trotted over to the cast aside bag her master had yet to inspect. He gave it a careless shove to pin his attention to the loud clanger from within.
"Of course," her master said, "the dead weight."
He walked over to the bag and revealed its contents: more gold and jewellery than a noble will dream to possess, all in one container. He carelessly browsed through the valuables and occasionally laid aside a relic if it piqued his interest. When he was done he stood up and measured Pathfinder's dimensions.
"The wer are known for their obsession with these relics. Heavy metal, with a gleam, which only purpose is to make small trinkets. Gold, of which can I deride nothing useful," he remarked as he measured and selected the appropriate location to attach a golden crest upon Pathfinder's chest. "Its weight is not half matched by its value amongst the loathers, when iron and copper shapes our industrial pursuits." He fastened a pin in Pathfinder's mane before sliding on an encrusted circlet. "But dress a horse, ride them or breed them, and their value goes beyond the means of a noble's coffer." He unfolded a silver-trimmed, violet mantle that had been safely tied under the saddle and cast over Pathfinder and tied the threads. He meticulously stretched out any creases he found and he continued his speech. "But when you only own one thing in your life, perhaps such trivial vanities serve to remind others was is truly important to us."
She couldn't see what had become of her, but her master seemed genuinely pleased. Pathfinder looked around hoping to spot a puddle to see her reflection in.
"'A horse may deride more satisfaction from play than a loather', so I will humour that notion this once," her master said and held the back of his left arm towards her. In the reflection of his gauntlet, Pathfinder could vaguely see the results. Not sure whether to appreciate the attempt or shake the jewellery off her head, she fought her hardest not to slip out an opinion. It did not escape her master to notice the slightest slip of a tell. "Gold does not suit you," he remarked and replaced the accessories with silver variants.
Pathfinder observed the new look in her master's gauntlet and gave her head a tilt. The contrast was more visible and pleasant even to her; despite never having worn precious metal or stones before.
"As I thought," he said and returned the golden relics into the container, leaving the silver to decorate the mare.
Pathfinder's master walked out and observed the trees. Before long her beckoned Pathfinder over and pointed.
"There we saw the dog," he said, "we have been here before."
To him it was obvious as the rising tides, but to her it was a perplexing thought. Indeed, the dog that had attacked her a few cycles ago had been met in this orchard. Applejack's lost friend.
Her master walked over and tapped her on the rump to give the order to move. Not given a specific direction, Pathfinder chose her own course. Having been asked to find Big Macintosh, who was out in the orchard, she tried for that direction. Her master only followed.
"Your name is Pathfinder. You will have to find your own way here. And form friendships as you go."
As Pathfinder found herself far into the orchard listening for any trace of Big Macintosh and one 'Miss Cheerilee,' an eerie silence had befallen her master. Though always light of feet, he had far surpassed his ability to be unheard. She looked over and discovered that he had, in fact, left her to wander and was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly the high-pitched tones of a talking mare caught her attention. Pathfinder looked around and saw in the distance the distinct red coat of Big Macintosh and the magenta coat belonging to another. She cantered over to relay the message from Granny Smith but stopped a short distance away as their conversation became more audible.
"And he was such a sweet and brave cold, pretending he didn't know about the dragon, and he kept telling everypony how we were going to find that mythical creature from Trottingham by the river," said the female voice.
Big Macintosh just chuckled as he listened attentively.
It was strange to her, to hear equines banter. Pathfinder had grown most her young life with colts and fillies from many backgrounds, but never shared much of words with them. It being that some were of the speech-impaired wild origin and others from grudge-grown pedigrees such as House Moss and House Rose and would sooner pick fights than make peace with her. It had been a silent life with only the stable hands to listen to, and the waning elder horses, too old to be of use, but not yet dead and could not be harvested. It was from those parties she learnt her two tongues.
"Oh, but you have a new farmhoof, Big Mac. I've yet to see her," the magenta mare said.
"Um, don't think she's 'round. Wanders 'bout often," Big Macintosh explained.
Pathfinder gave her surrounding a final look to see if she had indeed been left alone before approaching.
"Mare works a fine load in a shift, but likes to disappear," Big Macintosh continued, "must be the horse in her."
"You were called back to the house," Pathfinder said.
The two ponies hastily turned their heads to face her in surprise.
"Um, wow," the mare tried.
"That'd be her," Big Macintosh said.
"Is she nobility? Have you got nobility working in you farm?"
"Eh."
"Nobility?" Pathfinder thought, realising only then that her accessories were much alike those the 'princess' had worn.
"She must be," the mare insisted and walked up to Pathfinder, "tell me, Miss, where are you from?"
"Heaven Over The Azure," Pathfinder replied quickly.
"That's not in Equestria. Where is it? And what are you like there?"
"I am a warhorse. I see ride along my fellow horses on hunts and skirmishes."
"Warhor- what? You're not a noble?" the mare asked again.
To Pathfinder 'noble' meant 'proud in stature'. But to the magenta mare is certainly meant something else, so Pathfinder had trouble answering the question.
"I am a prime example of my pedigree...?" Pathfinder replied with a puzzled face.
The mare looked for a while at Big Macintosh who only shook his head.
"Oo-kay. Here's what I'm going to do: my name is Cheerilee and I am a teacher; I teach young ponies important things like math, history and language. This is..." she said and held her hoof toward Big Macintosh.
"Um, Big Macintosh; I buck apples."
"And you are?"
Pathfinder put two and two together and structured her reply as best she could.
"My name is Pathfinder, I am a House Alabaster pedigree warhorse; I carry my master upon my back to wherever he desires me to go."
Cheerilee slapped herself over her forehead. "Fine, I'll take that," she said dryly.
"As I said before, you were being called to come back to the house," Pathfinder said, "I suspect it had to do with that 'pie' you bake a lot of."
"You speak exceptionally formally," Cheerilee complimented.
"As opposed to...?" Pathfinder challenged.
"I didn't mean anything by it."
"And I did not mean to presume you had many horses to compare me to."
"Now, now, ladies..." Big Macintosh intervened.
Pathfinder turned and walked away, but let out an irate groan - a result of still lingering feelings of abandonment.
"Is she this difficult to talk to?" Cheerilee asked.
"Haven't spoken much. Can't say."
It dawned on Pathfinder that everyone around her had remained exceedingly welcoming and friendly in ways she had never observed at home. Not even from courting horses. In comparison, despite her superior intellect and sociability over her peers, Pathfinder had been the stark opposite at every opportunity. Especially during her encounter with the tyrant, someone she should have been bowing to simply out of honour of meeting her.
"No, wait..." Pathfinder said and turned back to the two ponies, who looked at her, "I can be better than this."
Big Macintosh looked the more surprised.
"My name is Pathfinder, and I am not a dumb horse. I grew up fulfilling my master's expectations. I am rude and I am blunt and I am demanding, because I have always been urged to be."
Cheerilee seemed to let a smile escape her.
"I was never thoroughly weaned off my mother's teat as she died early, leaving me only my father to turn to. However, he was not a horse and made a for poor role model. As I grew to my yearling stage I felt the harsh estrangement from my cousins who began looking at me like some weak link to our family hierarchy, and I had no siblings," Pathfinder presented her tail to Cheerilee, "I was different, not fully matching the traits of my pedigree. Too bright - that was enough to be frowned upon."
Big Macintosh cleared his throat.
"During my yearling stage my father disappeared and I was isolated from the herd to avoid fights. I do not know how long I was kept separate, but when my father finally returned I was nearly as tall as him. A brief reunion only to pass me over to a horse master who would train me to the horse I am today. But before our final separation, my father gave me my name, spoken so that I would never forget it; only as half-way adult did I earn my name."
The chance to speak her heart began to lighten Pathfinder's soul. Though she was tensing up the more she spoke, the better her whole body felt. And the two ponies appeared to be absorbed with intrigue.
"Training and almost constant isolation. I became more of a trophy kept in someone's personal quarters than a horse. My bones grew strong and I tremendously; my muscles built to the point I was beyond other's means of control, only machine could hold me. Everyday I was cleaned to perfection, and my master would be there as often as he could, either staring, or cleaning me personally, but my encounters with other equines were almost non-existent..."
Pathfinder stopped to breath. Big Macintosh walked over to her and laid a hoof on her side, too short to reach her shoulder.
"... so I became cold and selfish. I kicked at slow stable workers who took too long with my hooves; I even injured some. Less and less a horse, I began to look down upon my fellow equine. In my world, there was only me and my master, and I would spend every day to uphold his image of me. I was a warhorse, and that made me the most valuable asset one could own. I had no need for consideration and friendship, but deep down I was still that young foal longing to meet her father one last time."
"That ain't a life you'll live here. It must've been hard," Big Macintosh said.
"On the contrary," Pathfinder confessed, "it was second nature to me. Life was so simple."
"Well, it's good to talk about your history with others, so they might get to know you better," Cheerilee assured, "one can learn a lot about oneself by talking to others."
"I know why I am cold, but I always pretend not to care. Pretending to be dumber than I am has been a way of life - I only ever enjoyed working."
"Well, it certainly shows on your body. I don't think my Big Mac could hope to build the bulk you carry," Cheerilee said as she walked over to steal a feel of Pathfinder's muscled chest. Big Macintosh grunted audibly. "I think he's jealous of you," she whispered.
"I apologise for my hostility..." Pathfinder struggled.
"No need to apologise, thank you for sharing your history with us."
It felt like a heavy load of her soul to be able to speak on a social level with others. Not even her own master would do this when addressing his peers, yet his kind never cared. It was the feeling of a new beginning to come, and Pathfinder yearned it.
"Let's head back to the house, then," Cheerilee said, "I'm sure Granny Smith is getting impatient."
As the trio began trotting back to the farm house the gingerly giggle of the smaller mare failed to escape Pathfinder's ears. The intention was questionable, as the sentiment even harder to determine. Big Macintosh appeared to smile from Pathfinder's position at the back of the group before Cheerilee finally said: "Race you there!" and charged off.
Big Macintosh was quick to react and did so in kind, giving Pathfinder a short moment to make sense of the situation. A race it was, and it certainly was her own game. Pathfinder slowly built up speed to give her two opponents a head start. She knew well her own speed and that she had barely given them enough to time to even stand the ghost of a chance to outrun her. First a canter until Big Macintosh and Cheerilee ran out of sight, then a gallop.
She outran her smaller equine opponents in moments and was left waiting by the farm house a fair while before they would catch up. They were breathing irregularly from the exercise, Pathfinder had barely raised her pulse, but they were laughing from under their panting. They had found joy in it.
Pathfinder smiled, for she too had found joy in playing with another equine. It was truly the mark of a new beginning.