//------------------------------// // 69 - Impulses // Story: From Dusk to Night // by KuroiTsubasaTenshi //------------------------------// Our next destination was Las Pegasus, though not because it was among my favourites. Which isn’t to say I don’t appreciate the shows and the general presentation of the city, but there’s really no denying its primary purpose: to serve as a gambling hub. Between my frugal nature and life’s lessons giving me a healthy aversion to risk, this was a half-match at best. However, it also happened to be the shortest link between Lunar Lake and Iron Shoe, with our real next stop being Crystalside. While we could technically take an even shorter route up, it would involve camping overnight for several days. Thus, I vetoed the route as readily as I did any urge to put bits down at a Las Pegasus table. The terrain for the majority of the journey was quite hilly. Fortunately, for travelers as a whole, Las Pegasus is a very rich city and at about the quarter mark, the nice, but humble, dirt trail became expensive cobblestone. However, swanky as it was, most pegasi chose not to utilize it. The general formation of the hills required the roads to take many winding paths, extending the travel time by hours compared to flying straight there. Still, it was also an experience I didn’t want Night to miss out on. Walking the Las Pegasus highway was like taking a more moderate version of the path up to Canterlot. That is, it provided a high, wide view of the wavy fields and colonies of trees, but was still low enough to make out some finer details. By contrast, Canterlot’s steep, mountainous paths quickly reached a point where the view had little difference from that of flying. As such, I had us set down about three hours out from the city, where the detour would add the least amount of time, but still give a decent view. We could walk for about an hour, then take to the skies again. “What do you think?” I asked, motioning a hoof over the side, to the sea of tall, wild grass. This was a particularly wide field, almost entirely devoid of trees. It seems they’d all fled to the bend, where a smattering of them became an unusually thick clump. Experience told me that this would continue for quite some distance, perhaps until the next bend or two. Off in the distance, far away from the hillside, was a sparkling blue mote, the barest hint of the river cutting through. “It’s beautiful.” Night surveyed the field. “Almost as beautiful as you.” With a smirk and a giggle, I said, “Never would have guessed you’d say that.” He blushed a bit. “Well, it’s true.” I pressed into his mane. “Flatterer.” We continued along the path, taking our time to observe the thickening of the trees. The line of them skirting the hillside was consistent enough that, had there been more ground for them to grow, I was convinced that we’d have a full-blown forest here. After about twenty minutes, I stopped dead as a rather unpleasant smell hit my nostrils. It was faint, yet distinct enough that a couple more whiffs let my mind process the source: scorched wood. I glanced at Night, who was already looking my way. “Is something… burning?” he asked. “Possibly. We should have a quick look. If a fire gets out of control here, this entire hillside is going to go up in smoke.” I took a step and paused. “Carefully, though. The source might not be friendly.” Night nodded and with that, we were off, creeping up the path. After a couple minutes, the smell had grown stronger, but it was still weak enough that I felt some measure of relief. Were it an emergency-level blaze, we’d have noticed a significant change by now. Another minute and the source of the smell still wasn’t readily apparent. However, a small shower of splinters was scattered across the highway. The trail led to the side of the road, where multiple overlapping wagon tracks led down into the treeline. As quietly as possible, I slipped down the hill, ears twitching all the way. What was perhaps more worrying than a roaring fire or the sound of clashing steel was dead silence. Is this a ruse? Is someone lying in wait for whoever follows this trail? Or perhaps the cause was something. Part of me wanted to pull out now, let the Las Pegasus Guard handle the rest. The other part wanted to scout a little more. If it turned out I’d left someone to bleed out in the wilderness, I’d be rather unhappy. Letting out a little sigh, I glanced back at Night and motioned forward. The path wasn’t hard to follow at all—wide swaths of underbrush were practically flattened from where the wagons had crashed through. Carefully, gingerly, I stepped around the brush and debris. The sound of my hooves on dirt was deafening enough. And still there were no other sounds. The longer we followed the tracks, the more I could feel it biting itself my side, like a knife, twisting as it set off all kinds of red flags. At last, the trees parted into something of a tiny clearing. As my mind processed just what was going on, I darted behind the nearest tree. Night awkwardly followed. The first thing I noticed was how drastically the ground had been disturbed. Not only were there wagon tracks, but there were clearly imprints from hooves and where people might have fallen. Curiously, though, there were no bodies. Next, my eyes fell on the three closed-top, wooden wagons. One was practically split in two, toppling diagonally in such a way that the particularly large tree it hit more than caved the roof in. Another was toppled on its side, taking up about half of the remaining clearing. Crates spilled out the back, with a mix of papers and what appeared to be shirts cascading out. The final wagon was upright and off to the side, but even from here, I could tell someone had forced the door. Turning to Night, I made a circular motion with my hoof, then pointed to my side. It took a few moments, but he nodded. With that, I slunk along the perimeter of the wreckage, checking for signs of anyone else. There were more than a few hoofprints leading away at rather frequent intervals, but nothing that would indicate they had gone into hiding nearby. Once we finished the full circuit, I stepped out into the clearing, moving toward the overturned wagon. Ducking low, I peered inside. Best I could tell, there was no one inside, though it’d be rather difficult to squeeze in with the mess of smashed crates creating a barricade. I briefly mused that someone trying to climb over that mass of spikes would likely be more painful than being in the crash itself. Casting a look at the other wagons to make sure there was still no movement, I glanced down at the cargo that now littered the ground. The papers appeared to be pamphlets, with big, bright letters extolling the selling points of the shirts. The shirts themselves did little to live up to the advertisements. Sure, there was a variety of colours and the standard designer half-comprehensible logo, but the material didn’t seem all that special. It certainly wasn’t worth fighting over, anyhow. I checked the crushed wagon next, circling it to make sure no one was hiding beneath. As I climbed up to look into the wagon itself, I found that climbing inside would be an even greater feat than the first wagon. Regardless, the tree had conveniently smashed open a few crates, giving me a glimpse of the shirts within. The last wagon made me the most nervous. I’d left it for last because the open door and it being entirely upright left less places for someone to be concealed. However, given what I’d found out about the other wagons, this was the most likely to actually contain someone. While it would be easy to spot someone coming out, I didn’t want to get sloppy. I crept up from the side, taking care to get just the right angle so I could see inside, but leaving my head exposed as little as possible. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. It was empty. The crates were stacked along the side in a way that no one could possibly hide on or behind them, so what I saw was what I got. Slinking inside, I felt my hoof brush up against a piece of paper. Picking it up, a chill ran down my spine. It was a manifest, much like one of the documents I’d found in Filly so many years ago—though not nearly as blatant about the stock as the one from Filly. “What’s wrong?” Night whispered. “It’s them. This is one of their shipments,” I said. He peered over my shoulder and tilted his head. “Shirts?” “That’s how they’re transporting it. Like the ice in Fetlock. Look.” I pointed to the logo of the shipping company. “The pattern surrounding the letter looks pretty nonsensical in a fancy way, right? Well, see the bottom-right corner?” “It’s a… leaf.” The gravity of Night’s words seemed to hit him. “They need a way to communicate to their people inside, but they can’t just go announcing it any old way.” Night frowned. “Um, okay. Right.” “It’s a trick the Guard told me years ago,” I answered the unasked question. A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. “I suppose the Cartel's got a few things that keep coming back to haunt them, too.” He didn’t say anything. To be fair, there wasn’t much to say to that. Instead, I felt his muzzle press up against my neck. I returned the nuzzle before proceeding to the back. “Of course, something isn’t quite right. Whoever attacked had to have known what they were doing. The guards wouldn’t have gone down easily. They had to know there was a prize, so why is the product all untouched? There must be thousands upon thousands of bits lying out there in the dirt.” “Maybe something scared them off?” Night suggested. “Perhaps. But it’d have to be something really crazy to keep them away. The greedy ones would inevitably be back with this kind of money on the line.” As I continued forward, I realized one of the crates right in front of me had its lid removed. Peering inside, I could see there was a heavy, metal vault fit snugly within the frame. It was empty. Night slipped up beside me. “Or maybe they found something more valuable?” His voice was rather uncertain, though I could hardly blame him. It was hard to imagine something more valuable than tens of thousands of bits’ worth of drugs. Yet, here we were, a safe undeniably broken into with its contents taken, but everything else left alone. “Maybe. But the question is wha—” It hit me like a runaway cart and I paled. “Dusky?” Night gave me a look of deep concern. “We need to head for Las Pegasus as quickly as possible. The Guard needs to know about this.” I turned quickly, though caught myself and took a deep breath. Night should at least know why I’m rushing off. “Rumour was that the Leaf sisters were the only two who know the refining process for the product. Without that, their whole endeavour is lost. But I seriously doubt they would want to take the knowledge entirely to the grave. No, they’d probably have something secreted away for either a descendant or apprentice. I think someone found out—and they aim to be the next leader.” --- A quick, anonymous report to the Guard and I was done. No names, no means of further contact. I just couldn’t get any more involved. The Cartel’s shadow still loomed, yet it was falling ever farther away from me. Getting the attention of their aspiring new leader would bring that right back to me. More than ever, I wanted to avoid endangering those around me. Besides, if the Guard was quick to follow my tip, I was confident they would have all the information they needed to proceed. Knowing that staying cooped up in the hotel, stewing in my own uncertainty, wasn’t going to do me any good, I suggested a walk down the strip. I felt bad because the level of activity here obviously wasn’t Night’s cup of tea. Of course, one could say it was the lesser of two evils, as I was pretty sure taking him out onto the casino floor would have given him an instant anxiety attack. As a city always on the go, Las Pegasus had been among the first to adopt for their entire city what Cloudsdale was now only applying to very specific sections of their city: cloud-secured concrete. And with good reason, really—each tribe made up roughly one-third of the population, so using a material that everyone could walk on theoretically tripled their income. Of course, such an investment wasn’t without cost. CSC had been, for a long time, military grade, the kind of thing only the Guard and the Wonderbolts could afford to put into their bases—with Canterlot's backing. As such, I could definitely understand Cloudsdale’s hesitance. Still, Las Pegasus had obviously found a way to take advantage of the situation. The mixed aesthetic provided a rather mysterious feel that no other city offered. On top of that, the concrete provided a sturdier general base, upon which they could erect towers in which every interior article didn’t need to be enchanted so as not to fall through the floor. Clouds also made a rather poor base for neon signs and this was a city where one couldn’t walk two feet without finding at least a dozen of them trying to outdo the other. The early evening tourist rush was in full force, necessitating some rather quick maneuvering to avoid collisions. I kept one eye ahead and the other behind to ensure Night wasn’t lost to the sea of manes and tails. Barkers of all kinds somehow found space to loiter near the doorways of their respective clubs or casinos. Many tried to beat the noise by simply waving their pamphlets around, leaving the air a flurry of gambling deals, performance times and promises of late-night adult activities. Some more ambitious ones tried to be louder than the crowd, but I suspected all that would get them would be a sore throat in the morning. After we passed something like that tenth block-long casino, I noticed Night’s brow had furrowed to the point that I was afraid his muzzle might pop off. I leaned over and offered a reassuring smile. “We can stop to rest if you want.” Guilt flooded his face and he hesitated. In the end, he nodded. “It’s just… so much. Maybe… just a short break.” I led him up the path to the nearest casino, hoping to find the customary patio lounge. I was not disappointed. The benches here were thick wooden slabs, of which there were dozens of unoccupied pieces. A pegasus in golden armour battled a dragon as he watched over us from the casino’s sign. Knights of Magnus, it proclaimed. As Night and I settled onto one of the benches, the very precise angle toward the casino’s open doors made it painfully obvious that these weren’t just here for convenience. Night let out a long sigh, focusing inward. I could almost see the sensory overload slide off of him as he opened his eyes. “It’s just… so many ponies. All the lights, and the noise… it’s almost… oppressive. Not even Canterlot is like this.” “I understand. This city’s so busy, it’s a rarity when someone doesn’t feel that way the first time they come here. Just take your time.” I pressed into his mane, remembering the first time I’d come here. I think I spent a good two minutes just staring, taking every detail in. “It all feels like it should be amazing to me… but, it’s just so alien…” Guilt clouded his face again. “S-sorry. I’m still not that comfortable with big cities, or, um, crowds.” “It’s okay, really. It’s not for everyone. You don’t need to apologize.” Night took a deep breath, his eyes falling on the shifting wall of people. “I… alright. I… I really do want to enjoy it, if I can. And… I know I can, so long as I’m here with you. Are… you ready to continue?” I gave him another reassuring smile. “As long as you feel up to it.” “Yeah… yeah. I’m better now. I just needed space to breathe for a minute.” Helping him back to his hooves, I couldn’t resist dramatically pointing a wing forward. “Let’s go.” The enclosement of casinos gave way to another set of equally lucrative buildings: strip malls. Anyone looking for designer… well, anything, didn’t have to look far. However, it wasn’t those that caught Night’s attention. “Quick Change’s Lightning Fast Weddings?” He tilted his head, staring up at the gaudy, neon sign that topped one of Las Pegasus’s infamous fast chapels. I was actually a little surprised he didn’t know, given that they were probably one of the defining stereotypes of the city. I let out a giggle. “There’s more than a few ‘minute wedding’ chapels in Las Pegasus. They basically rush the whole process. You get in, you say your ‘I do’s, and you sign some papers, and that’s it.” “And that’s it?” Night’s disappointment was palpable. “Doesn’t sound… I don’t know, romantic.” “Las Pegasus isn’t exactly about ‘romance’. It’s more about being too impulsive.” Night glanced behind him, at the casinos we’d just passed, and the crowds hurrying to be entertained by them. “Seems like this whole city is preying on ponies being too impulsive.  Maybe that’s why I don’t like it…” Sliding closer, I pressed my cheek against his. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d much rather wait and have a proper wedding with our friends and family there.” “It does… I want to be married, but not impulsively… err, not anymore impulsively than I’ve already asked, that is.” I smirked. “Well, the timing felt perfect to me.” Night took one last look at the chapel before shaking his head like he was trying to dislodge grime from his mane. “So… is there anything we can do around here that’s, um, not impulsive?” Looking down the strip, I spotted a few malls we hadn’t checked yet. “Maybe we can find someplace good for dinner. So long as we avoid the casinos and the buffets.” “Well, you have impeccable tastes, so… lead the way.”