//------------------------------// // Danger // Story: Grief is the Price We Pay // by Scyphi //------------------------------// The next few days passed relatively uneventfully after that and were largely spent by Spike and Thorax settling into their new job and way of life that came with it. Fly Leaf was very pleased with how quickly they settled into the job that she quickly found she could trust the shop would keep running normally if she had to step out for some reason and leave the two in charge in the meantime. Upon discovering this, the earth pony decided to make use of it, and began experimenting with what this left her free to do during her lunchbreak, thinking she could possibly make use of it to occasionally meet with vendors to arrange new deals of stock for her store, but at the same time, she didn’t want to rush into the matter. Spike and Thorax were inwardly thankful for this, if only because they didn’t want to be given too much responsibility for the shop’s operations too quickly at the very least. Regardless, the two disguised outcasts seemed to be accepted as the part of the store’s staff fairly fast by the regulars who frequented the store, many of whom warmed up quickly with them, especially Thorax, who as always was friendly with all the customers he helped (and was frequently receiving praise for it from said customers). Being both outcasts that had reached the point that they had accepted this thinking that they weren’t wanted by those who knew who or what they actually were, this warm reception of the populace of Vanhoover made for a nice change. It was hard not to make the effort to give it back in return. By the end of their first week was when Fly Leaf quite gladly gave the two their first payment of their weekly wages, believing they had more than earned it. But the payment also brought back the memory of their current predicament to the two outcasts, and with it, the need to plan ahead for their next move, well aware that staying in Vanhoover too long would not be wise when they were both supposed to be banished. Thus now that they had access to money that was rightfully their own, they proceeded to plan to make use of it. Agreeing to set aside part of their weekly pay to save and keep on hand in the event of an emergency, the rest Spike would take to various stores to purchase the supplies they would eventually need when it came time to move on to their next destination. He also took the time to obtain basic amenities such as blankets and pillows that would be easy to travel with, but also could be used for normal use in their room in the meantime. He also obtained a set of curtains for their window, granting them better privacy than draping Spike’s overcoat would. And he also used it to start collecting a supply of travel food, but quickly seeing that they could only carry so much food at a time, knew they would be gathering enough to travel with fairly quickly with the amount of money they were making (which wasn’t considerable of course, but enough to make a living out of if needed), and not wanting Fly Leaf to think they were hoarding food, Spike also decided to purchase a supply of food for their own (by which largely meant just Spike) use on a day to day basis. Thorax, meanwhile, obtained copies of an atlas and a series of maps of Equestria and the surrounding lands, and after the shop was closed would spend part of every night using them to plot out the best routes to the best destinations outside of Equestria to spend their banishment before bed. By train would naturally be the easiest, but Spike didn’t want to risk using his season pass again, certain that it had been rendered void by now (so Thorax had begun using it as a bookmark instead), and travel by train was easy for others to track too, not to mention didn’t actually run all the way to some of their possible destinations, so they had quickly decided they should consider all alternate means of travel to play it safe. Very quickly the changeling had amassed a whole stack of papers filled with notes on their planned voyage, all written in the strange circular characters of his native language. The idea was that should they ever fall into the wrong hooves for some reason, they couldn’t be easily read or translated, except most likely by another changeling, and Thorax admitted that while he had been continually keeping his eyes out for one ever since he had left his hive as a precaution, he highly doubted ever crossing paths with one out here. He explained that, even if any other changelings that were out here for whatever reason (most likely to gather love for the hive) took notice of Thorax, they would be able to tell what he was, disguised or not, and would not bother him, so to protect his cover as well as their own. The point though was that Thorax’s navigational notes would be safe from discovery written in his language while they were in Equestria as Thorax was the only one who could interpret them. Though a couple days after Thorax started all of this, Spike reasoned he ought to be able to read the notes too, in the event of an emergency. So Thorax was also sitting down with the dragon and trying to teach him how to at least read the changeling characters as well. It was slow going though, because it was quickly realized that Spike had to understand more than just the characters, but the whole language as well. Plus Spike quickly discovered that the changeling language curiously didn’t phrase sentences in the same manner as the Equestrian language did; most notably with verbs which often fell at the end of a sentence in linguae mutationis rather than somewhere in the middle like in Equestrian as Spike was used to. In an attempt to cheer up the dragon whenever the language lessons grew frustrating for him though, Thorax would point out that at least he wasn’t trying to teach Spike the changeling number system, which according to him, “operates in base twelve” unlike the Equestrian numbering system. Spike never quite knew what that meant, but Thorax only used that as a testament of his point. Otherwise life had become fairly normal for the both of them, and there were times when it was easy to forget they were supposed to be banished from Equestria and in hiding, so much so that both started to let their guard relax some. Though they quickly learned they needed to be careful to not let it down too far as at some point after a few days of working at Fly Leaf’s shop, Thorax started getting the habit of occasionally slipping up and referring to his dragon friend as “Spike” in public and not “Spark” like he should. Worse, as this was his given name and would just respond to it normally without even thinking about it, Spike wasn’t even catching it… …until Fly Leaf finally asked the question. “Why does Thornton keep calling you Spike?” she asked curiously after overhearing a work-related exchange between the two coworkers. Spike froze, realizing the error but was totally unprepared on how he should respond. He glanced at Thorax but saw the disguised changeling had the same deer-in-the-headlamps look too. “Uh…” “…it’s a nickname?” Thorax offered suddenly. “…because of the spikey scales on his head.” “Yeah!” Spike agreed, quickly latching onto that idea. “Oh!” Fly responded, accepting the explanation without question. “All right then.” A couple of days later though, Spike realized Fly was starting to make use of the supposed “nickname” too. But as it didn’t seem to be causing any undesired attention and none of the customers visiting the store seemed to be picking up on it, Spike decided it would be better to not to bring the more attention that making a fuss would do to it and left the matter be. Though more than halfway into their second week in Vanhoover, Spike suddenly found himself wishing the subject of the supposed nickname had never come up at all when the danger of discovery it presented suddenly became all too real. They got word of it at a perfectly unsuspecting time too, midway through the afternoon one day during a lull moment in the shop’s business. Spike, having been tasked to do some bookkeeping work, had pulled aside Thorax for a moment so to try and sort out a small inconsistency at the front desk, while Fly Leaf currently stood on a stepstool, restocking books on one of the upper shelves of a bookcase. It was at that time that one of the shop’s regulars, a retired and elderly white pegasus the three only knew as the friendly Mrs. White strolled in through the front door. “Hello Mrs. White!” Thorax, who the mare was always especially friendly with, greeted cheerfully when he heard the chime that accompanied the door’s opening, looking up from the ledger he and Spike were huddled over. “Welcome to Fly Leaf’s Books and Stationery! What can we get for you today?” “Oh, just the usual I’m afraid Thornton,” the snow-white pegasus said with a grin as she creakily strolled up to the front desk. Spike glanced up at her, peering at her over the rim of the glasses he wore as part of his disguise. “Glue dots?” he guessed. Mrs. White made an amused sigh. “Glue dots,” she confirmed. “My scrapbooking club has been working on a massive project for the local library, and we’ve been going through those accursed things double-time lately.” Spike laughed. “I’ll go fetch some for you real quick,” he said, stepping out from behind the front desk. “About how many boxes are you needing?” “Better give me five boxes, seeing how fast we’ve been eating them up,” Mrs. White said, and gave the dragon a warm grin as he scampered off to the shelf in the back that held them. “Thank you, Spark!” “No problem, Mrs. White,” Spike responded as headed for the shelf, having no trouble finding the boxed rolls of adhesive tacks, as he hadn’t even known what glue dots were prior to coming here, and thus had made it a point to remember everything about them after discovering them. “Five boxes, huh?” Fly Leaf remarked, looking down at the elderly mare from where she still stood atop her stepping stool, sorting books. “This must be some project of yours, Mrs. White.” “Oh, you have no idea, Fly,” Mrs. White said wearily, turning to look up at the store proprietor. “This thing’s gotten so complicated that it makes my old job working as a lightning handler back in my days at the Cloudsdale Weather Factory seem as simple as sleeping.” She rolled her eyes. “My gosh, do I miss those days. I’d still be doing it now if my doctor hadn’t practically ordered me to retire and keep myself grounded these days on account of the osteoporosis in my wings.” She gave her wings a weak flutter, sadly no longer strong enough to keep her airborne for much longer than a minute. “You know I was quite a capable mare back then.” “Of course I do, Mrs. White,” Fly assured the mare as she stepped down from her stepping stool, having heard the impressive tale of Mrs. White’s hard-working weather factory days many times before. “Course, I’m not completely incapable now,” Mrs. White continued, motioning to herself proudly. “Despite all the setbacks, I’ve still managed to keep things together enough to get the project more than halfway done, way ahead of schedule, and that’s despite the continued shortage of supplies, brought about by constantly running out of things like those pesky glue dots,” she shot Spike a grin which the dragon returned as he, having gathered the five boxes as requested, started to bring it back up to the front desk, “and a shipment of a special shimmer stock the club’s using getting delayed briefly because of all the crystal pony guards that have been running around town today.” Both Spike and Thorax looked up from what they were doing sharply, alarmed by this. “Crystal pony guards?” Fly asked puzzled, approaching the front desk herself. “In Vanhoover?” “Oh yes, and they’ve been going and poking their snouts in every little thing too,” Mrs. White grumbled. “You mean you haven’t seen them? A whole group of them seemed to have arrived in town this morning.” “I haven’t had a chance to get out of the shop today,” Fly explained with a shrug. “And none of them have been in here.” “You’re sure they’re not just tourists…right?” Spike asked hesitantly as he started to set down the boxes of glue dots on the front desk. “Absolutely,” Mrs. White said confidently. “They had all the helmets and regalia you’d expect with guards, and they’re clearly here on business from the Crystal Empire itself.” She huffed indignantly. “They aren’t being especially easy to work with either. It took a lot more effort to clear up that fiasco with that shipment of shimmer stock than it should’ve, and I’ve heard the train station has gotten all gummed up because of them standing guard there, meddling with ponies as they board and exit the trains.” Thorax suddenly fumbled with one of the boxes of glue dots as he was working to ring it up into the cash register, and he and Spike exchanged worried looks briefly, this news not being good. “But I don’t understand,” Fly persisted, apparently missing the worried looks of her two employees. “Why are crystal pony guards here at all?” “Something about a search for a couple of criminals…” Mrs. White said with a shrug, her knowledge of the details being limited. “Your total is ten bits, Mrs. White,” Thorax took the chance to interject, trying to keep his voice steady in light of the worrisome news. “In Vanhoover?” Fly repeated as if she didn’t hear Thorax while Mrs. White counted out the money and slid it across the desk to Thorax. “What sort of criminals are we talking about here? Should we be worrying about them?” “Well, personally I think they’re barking up the wrong tree looking for the scamps in Vanhoover,” Mrs. White responded as she accepted the bag Thorax handed her, the boxes of glue dots tucked inside, and placed it on her back. “This is a respectable city, after all. But they’re insisting they’ve got to search the area anyway, and it sounded like they’re going be thorough about it, so I’ll bet my last bit that they’ll be here for a week or two.” “Must be some criminals then,” Spike couldn’t help but remark flatly, already having a good idea who they were looking for. “Sounded like it,” Mrs. White agreed as she turned for the exit again. “From what I heard from those guards it seems they’re looking for an escaped changeling and some accomplice…a dragon I think they said?” She gave Spike a kind grin. “No offense to you of course, Spark.” She then nodded at the group. “Anyway, I need to be off. Ta-ta, everyone!” She then departed, the trio watching her go in a beat of silence, still processing what she had said. Fly tilted her head. “Huh, a changeling in Vanhoover?” she muttered to herself, and shook her head, turning to walk off, getting back to work. “Crazy. Well, I guess I hope Mrs. White is right then, that those guards are just following a false lead and it’ll all blow over soon enough.” But the fearful glances Spike and Thorax exchanged between themselves as she walked off suggested they knew that wasn’t entirely the case.