"Last Chance" Stopover Arc
The five mares that escaped from the flaming mansion found the meeting spot Clovis had designated in case things “went wrong”; it was a simple matter of Clovis calling a couple of his crew and telling them to prepare it. Had things gone as planned the ponies would’ve gone back to Melchior’s estate by carriage. But life and even death wouldn’t be all that interesting if things went smoothly.
Loress, the only one not winded from the run, led Dechaa, Zyra, Wilka, and Orni out of the woods; they looked like Hell. They were pleased-as-pie to see Clovis and Delia sitting by a campfire, Essenta resting on a cot at the edge of the clearing, with a couple of Clovis’s crew rifling through a box.
Clovis couldn’t believe it, “You’re alive?!”
The girls cast him a set of very dirty looks as they stood, trying to catch their breath.
Loress’s first order of business was to free herself from her nauseating gown; she’d been stewing in her own juices since the dragon had started hunting her in the ballroom, “Oh, ish!”
Tearing off the filthy gown without reservation she hoofed it into the campfire and ran—her cream-colored coat not looking so clean—back into the woods, without so much as a hello to the now-dead Melchior’s former minions. There’d been a little creek a short jaunt away from the clearing; a cold-water bath was in order. None of the other girls—as hard to believe as it is—shat themselves but added their own garments to the fire.
Delia stood up, “Oh, thank goodness you got out!”
Wilka, wearing the gown she was, needed help; Delia began to peel the gown off when Wilka cried out.
Delia let up, “Are you alright?”
Wilka winced as Zyra helped cut the gown off; the Pegasus hissed, “How did I not notice this earlier?”
Zyra didn’t need to run her hoof across Wilka’s ribs; it was obvious she had some fractures. Delia grimaced at the injury.
Dechaa examined the spot, “Well, it must’ve been your adrenaline… You were so jacked up you didn’t even feel it.”
The little Pegasus gasped; even breathing hurt, “I guess it happened when the ceiling came down.”
She screwed up her face in concentration and Dechaa recoiled as the sharp, lumpy section of Wilka’s ribcage snapped and popped and again appeared normal. The little Pegasus yelled in a convulsion, her face livid as a vein popped on her neck.
Zyra laughed, “Oh, geez… We haven’t seen that in a while!”
Wilka fell to her flank, gasping, tears of exertion streaming from her eyes, “Oh, I hate fixing ribs! It’s the worst thing, actually…”
Delia blanched, pointing with a shaky hoof, “What the fuck was that?!”
Dechaa sure wasn’t laughing, “Wilka’s a regenerator, Delia… She can—”
The maid’s shocked expression didn’t go away, “Yeah… she can do that…”
Of the girls that had just arrived Dechaa’s hysteria had worn off the most, but she still eagerly sprinted off with the others to find the little river.
Clovis called to his crew, “Hey, did you bring the extra tunics and towels and stuff I asked you to?”
“Oh, yeah, Clovis!” one called back.
“In that case…” Delia presented her back to Clovis. “Help me out of this…”
Clovis stared at the well-formed back of his friend. They were ponies but the thought of Delia in the buff was still rather splendid…
She blushed, just a little in the firelight, “Stop eye-humping me, Clovis! Get me outta this fucking hooker costume!”
“Okay!” he’d been gawking.
In a few seconds she was out of the cocktail waitress outfit and kicked it into the fire.
Clovis was aghast; the lovely—and very expensive—gown had been almost pristine, despite all the trouble of the night, “If you were just gonna burn it, why’d you make me loosen it?”
Delia could’ve ripped her way out but said, “It was easier that way.”
She ran the same way the others had, Clovis watching her go.
Clovis sighed. What a night it had been.
Delia, trotting into the woods, very briefly lamented the loss of the gown; she’d loved it (and could’ve sold it for a few ounces of gold). But Clovis giving her the creepy eyes, though she didn’t not enjoy the attention, compelled her to cast it aside.
Clovis sat away from the campfire; he had a reasonably sure feeling the five mares—and possibly Delia—weren’t interested in looking at his face for a while. His crew had also brought stew and bread at his request; he knew the girls would do well with a hot meal.
But on his mind the most was the fact that the arguably two most powerful ponies in town were dead… from getting vaporized by dragon fire. He’d only told his most trusted ponies about that; the rest of the household would find out soon enough as would the whole city, those that didn’t know already. The hundreds of panicked guest scrambling around town and the mayoral mansion inferno were rather obvious.
He also had a difficult time believing Loress had killed a dragon, but there it was…
By the fire, Delia stared into a bowl of stew, most thankful for food, “So… that’s what happened…”
The maid had seen more crazy shit in her life than she cared to recall so the fact Loress slew a dragon with a punch to the face wasn’t unfathomable.
The other girls were sobered; their excitement wore off with the grime in the frigid water of the creek. All they wanted was warmth and food and each other; they huddled in the fresh tunics.
Loress had been reviewing her actions against the beast, “Yeah, I… It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”
Zyra was most curious, “How do you mean?”
Loress nibbled on a chunk of bread, “Terran magic… We can make ourselves as stone—immovable. It works on most anything to attack us, regardless of size.”
Wilka’s eyes lit up, “So it’s not just some old pony tale; that’s how you took that punch that broke my leg…”
Delia shuddered, casting a glance to Wilka, “And I suppose you fixed that yourself, too?”
Zyra could well remember that, “Oh, that was a sight! Remember how Cap threw up?”
Loress snorked, “Oh, yes… It’s not like any of us was ready to see that… It’s also how I took her punch, the first time we met.”
Dechaa put in, “That should’ve shattered her leg up to the shoulder. I guess that’s how you stopped Ama in her tracks, too.”
Loress nodded.
Zyra chuckled grimly, “And your strength sent her halfway across the yard into a hay bale…”
Loress poked at her stew, “Yup…”
Zyra quit laughing, taking on a miserable look; her normally dull eyes danced with firelight, “That’s also how you… pulped that stallion the night of the raid… the one Ama pitched to you…”
Loress nodded slowly, “That’s exactly how I did that…”
The mares that bore witness to that night shuddered. Delia didn’t even want to ask about it, seeing Zyra. There were an awful lot of things the mares shared.
The girls had only touched on it briefly, the finding of the room. Loress was horrified by it, almost put off her late-night dinner. The struggle to reset the bookcase had been most daunting; a very powerful magic—presumably to keep ponies out—had rendered the skilled Zyra’s attempts insignificant. And still, that had been all but rubbish, in the end.
Delia, whether the sentiment was shared by the rest or not, saw the night as one sick, long joke. They’d planned and planned, only to have everything fall apart and end in cataclysmic fire. Melchior had arrived on a drunken whim and rendered all their trouble worthless. All the violence, anxiety, hurt feelings, and misery… for nothing.
Melchior was dead, the evil fellow he was, but their hard-pursued freedom rang hollow.
And now they were sick, tired, huddled in the woods, their leader a mess, never waking for more than a moment and not making any sense…
The little company cursed its fortune.
But things got a little brighter.
“My friends!” a voice called from the nearby path.
Ama emerged from the brush, pulling their supplies in their wagon, a big grin on her face.
Almost dropping their dinner, the five company mares rushed to see their friend; crying and buffeting the tall mare, they carried on a moment.
Ama lifted Zyra’s chin, looking into her steely eyes, “Oh, it is so good to see you…”
Zyra nodded and nuzzled in.
“It is good to see all of you,” Ama’s impressive reach allowed her to embrace all five of her friends at once. “And it is good to be out of that little box…”
Behind Ama came a couple stallions, pulling small carts laden with food and blankets.
Clovis approached, “Nopony saw you?”
One of them shook his head, “No… most everypony is asleep. But it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the crews and household hear about this…”
Clovis hoofed his shoulder, “But you got Ama and the gear out with no problems. Good job.”
The other recently-arrived stallion hoofed the back of his neck, “The town’s in an uproar, though… You can see the burning mansion for miles, I bet…”
Clovis sighed, looking to the girls, “Well, we’ll just have to deal with that.”
Reluctantly, Clovis approached the mares.
Clovis addressed Ama, “How are you, Ama?”
The rest of the company mares eyed Clovis as if he were a long-dead squirrel stinking up the chimney on the first cold day of Autumn.
But Ama beamed before becoming thoughtful, “I am well, Clovis. I was surprised but delighted when your friends came for me, but I soon determined things must have gone deathly wrong for them to ‘spring’ me.”
Clovis exhaled, “Things went about as wrong as possible… beyond imagining, really.”
“I suppose we have a lot to discuss," Ama considered. "Your friends told me little, but our concern was leaving the estate discreetly.”
Clovis, much to the other mares’ dislike, helped relieve Ama of her harness, “Go sit down with your friends. Have some stew. I’ll see your gear’s squared away.”
Ama smiled pleasantly at Clovis, “Oh, thank you, Clovis.”
“It’s a small thing… After all this it’s such a small thing…” Clovis murmured as he slunk off.
None of the company mares were gaga over Clovis and his crew near their supplies but were less at odds with everything now that their friend was among them again.
“Some stew would be most welcome. But first…” Ama left the gaggle of mares to approach Essenta.
With sadness in her sharp eyes and a look of worry, she knelt next to her leader, examining her bandaged brow, “Oh, no…”
“Yes… it’s a very nasty wound,” a voice came.
Ama jumped a little, having dropped her guard; she looked to the edge of the clearing.
Delia had excused herself while the friends reunited; she’d been getting fresh water from the creek (upstream from where they’d bathed, of course), “I’m sorry, Ama, for startling you. I’m glad to see you out of that cage.”
The other mares watched with interest.
Ama cocked her head, “You must be…”
“I’m Delia… Delia Elias,” the maid offered the brawler her hoof. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
Ama, despite her upset over the princess, bucked up a bit and shook hooves, “Delia… I am Ama Waterfall. It is very good to meet you. But, excuse me, what a strange family name…”
Delia was charmed by Ama’s way, “Oh… yes. Where I come from, only noble families hold family names. We just take our fathers’ names. I’m Delia, daughter of Elias, so I just go by Delia Elias.”
Ama nodded, “My clan is ‘Waterfall’, so I suppose I can relate to having no true family name. There is no inventiveness to the name… My clan does reside in the shade of a spectacular waterfall.”
The Mazan was certainly interesting to the maid, “It’s actually amazing to me that all your friends have family names, but not all places are like the little corner of the world I’m from… or where you’re from.”
“Indeed… I have heard much about you. Thank you… Thank you for helping see my friends through this.”
Delia, like Clovis, wasn’t feeling too deserving of thanks, “You shouldn’t be so quick to thank me… This turned out to be one Hell-of-a mess.”
Ama was adamant, “You and Clovis kept Essenta safe and did your best; for that I am grateful.”
Delia decided to take the gratitude, “Well, you’re most welcome. The princess… she has a concussion but with your friends’ skills we should be able to help her. But don’t worry about that now; you’re hungry and we do have much to discuss.”
Knowing little of what had transpired that night Ama heard all there was to hear.
The Mazan wasn’t put off eating but didn’t relish much of anything that had happened, “Such a world we live in… This city will be turned upon its head! Still, I am glad you are all safe. And Loress! I almost regret the histories may never learn of your feat… I cannot imagine facing a dragon.”
Loress lounged against a tree-stump, “I’m having trouble yet… I still can’t believe I’m alive and sitting here… I’ve never been so scared in all my life…”
Nopony else could hardly believe it all either; that night would be difficult to top.
Clovis’s voice came from the edge of the clearing, “Girls, I need to get back to the mansion. Things are crazy in town and I need to help establish order. Delia, you can stay here tonight; there’s nothing you can do back at the estate tonight so rest well. My crew has found a cave up in the hills a way; it’s dry, warm, hidden. Stay here tonight, and if you don’t wish to stay in town I’ll send a few to help you resituate in the morning.”
Zyra was feeling less than receptive to Clovis, “Great… Send somepony in the morning to show us. I’d rather fuck a cactus than stay in your ‘city of magic’ another moment.”
The girls were a little surprised by Zyra’s response, even if they felt the same way, though perhaps not to the extreme of sweet, sweet whoopie with cacti. Delia frowned towards the mage, considering her manner.
Clovis lowered his head, “I understand. I’ll send along something to eat as well. As long as you’re in the area I’ll see all of you fed, watered, and warm. There’s blankets, fruit, a little wine, and some fresh water in the crates we brought. Keep the princess warm and watch her stitches… but I trust you know that.”
He left with his couple of crew members.
Delia wanted to say something to Zyra but was beaten to it by Ama; the Mazan didn’t look angry as much as dismayed, “Zyra… such a thing to say…! Do not be so rash. It would not hurt to think of Essenta; we would be better off housing her somewhere safer, especially if the weather turns on us. And treating Clovis in such a way!”
Zyra was very glad Ama—her best friend—was among them again but had little patience for reprimands, “Ama… while you’ve been getting three hots and a cot we’ve been jerked around in Melchior and Clovis’s stupid game. Don’t come here after all that and tell me to play nice with that asshole. And that city? To Hell with the whole place! It’s toxic…”
Before anypony could respond Zyra stood up and went to one of the crates Clovis had specified; she took a blanket and curled up in a corner of the campsite.
Ama looked hurt but the rest were just a little more sympathetic to Zyra’s leanings.
Loress was kind of supposed to be in charge with the princess down and she should’ve overridden Zyra but agreed wholeheartedly; she looked to Ama, “That was, perhaps, harsh but I’d rather hide in some dry cave in the hills than shack up in that disgusting city.”
Delia may have been offended; it was her home. But who was she kidding? Fuck the place.
To initiate peace Delia put a hoof on Ama’s shoulder, addressing her and the rest, “Everypony… it’s been a rough day. Get a blanket and get some rest. I’ll watch over the princess and all of you a couple hours… but I’ll need another to take over after a while; I’m exhausted myself.”
Loress sighed and put a hoof up, “I’ll do it.”
Noting Dechaa nodding off despite the drama the Terran figured she’d wake Dechaa in four or five hours for the third watch.
Too tired to argue and satisfied enough the girls took to sleeping.
Delia warmed a little water and after removing Essenta’s bloodied bandage she again washed her brow, which wouldn’t stop leaking. At times like this, as she was wrapping a fresh bandage on some princess from 2,000 miles away, she wished she drank; a little wine would’ve been nice in the night chill and forgetting the mayhem of the last couple days wouldn’t break her heart.
The next morning Clovis’s crew got the seven company mares to the cave with little time to spare. A storm had been riding the mountain range throughout the night and they barely missed getting soaked. But they had a cozy cave, plenty of firewood, and enough good food and drink to last them a few days on top of Clovis offering to feed them until they were back on the road. Looking out at the crappy weather almost had them wishing they had a proper roof over their heads… and maybe a full, open bar.
The six mares plus their sleepy leader were warm enough and safe enough but not very comfortable. While a majority of them had made do with their situation Zyra was further refining her foul mood from the night before; while most of the girls weren’t interested in imbibing, Zyra had taken personal possession of the wine given them.
It was only midmorning and the little mage was already three winds to the sheet, “Oh, this fuckin’ rain! I’m so sick of the bad weather…!”
The girls were content to leave Zyra to herself. Zyra didn’t normally drink heavily—whether due to her mood souring or something else—and if this was the way she’d act with a little booze they were glad for it.
Sure, the weather sucked but until that morning they’d had smooth sailing as far as that went. But nopony was getting into a pissing contest with the drunken mage.
Of greater concern was the princess. She’d still made little sense even after more than 12 hours since her concussion. The bleeding had stopped but she proved—to the dismay of Dechaa—to have sensitivity to light. Even the light of the fire in the dark cave was overwhelming and they’d moved her to a corner. Other than complain and grunt and eat and drink a little she’d slept fitfully.
Dechaa the Abstemious and Zyra the Blotto—before getting sloshed—had gone searching around the woods for something of antibiotic substance. There’d been no time for Essenta to get an infection but preemptive action against such things might avoid a fever in the next couple days. The late autumn saw little left herbs of use and the heavy rain hindered their endeavor.
It was a good thing they had an angle.
“Shit-on-a-shingle!” somepony tumbled into the cave from out of the storm. “Climbing up here sucked! Might as well scale a waterfall!”
The visitor’s coming was no surprise; with no medicine to be found in the forest somepony needed to get it.
Delia cast aside her drenched cloak and shook off like a dog, “You really shoulda just come back to town!”
Whether this was true or not they were stuck in the cave until Essenta was better or the weather cleared.
Dechaa came up, “Delia, did you get what I asked?”
Delia hoofed over a small package, “I managed to keep it dry… It’s a good thing the apothecary Melchior worked with doesn’t ask questions…”
This didn’t seem beyond the pale; working for Melchior had been a hazardous occupation and nothing requested would be all that unusual.
Delia also produced a food-bag, “I’m guessing you’re already tired of stew, so I brought some fixings for shepherd’s pie… and a couple jugs of rum.”
Loress eagerly hoofed the bag, “Oh, shepherd’s pie… I’ve been craving some all week!”
Delia wrung out her messy mane, “Oh, and I’m staying with you guys today. If you or Clovis think I’m going back down the mountain in this shit weather, you all can kiss my little horsey ass!”
Ama patted her shoulder, “There is no need for theatrics, Delia. You are most welcome. Now… did you say something about rum?”
While Zyra simmered off to one side of the cave and Essenta slept in the corner the rest of the mares gladly sat around the fire, passing around one of the jugs of rum… other than Delia the teetotaler.
Ama savored every drop, “Superb! Could I venture a guess the brothers from the pub made this?”
Delia let out a little belch, munching an apple, “You know it! I’d heard you liked their new ale but if you think I’d drag a keg of that stuff up here, you can—”
Loress was fussing over lunch, retrieving goods from their food-bags, “Yes, yes… we can all take turns kissing your little, purple horsey ass.”
Dechaa saluted, “Her words almost exactly!”
Wilka and Orni giggled into their hooves; Dechaa was a hoot-and-a-half when she had a little too much to drink, in which she was doing more than dabbling.
Ama sniffed the air, “Is that… peach cobbler?”
Loress called from the other end of the cave where she had another fire going; she’d grown tired of trying to cook with everypony lurking around the main fire, “Sure enough. Dessert. I was going to surprise you but there’s no hiding the aroma.”
Wilka grinned, “Peaches… Orni, can you believe we’d ever see fresh peaches this time of year?”
Orni shook her head, not displeased, “That’s the south for you.”
Delia poked the fire, turning a log, “That’s probably all we’ll see the rest of the year… maybe for good. Since Melchior and the mayor got evaporated nopony knows what might happen with some of the town’s interests, especially the old orchards.”
Loress joined them around the fire, leaving the shepherd’s pie and cobbler to bake, “Those two’ve been dead 13 hours and they’re already back to politics…”
Delia stared into the fire, “That’s why Clovis was up all night. Sure, everypony was shocked to shitting their clothes last night but in times of… well, emergency those running the show are quick to try and put things back on track.”
“It makes sense…” Loress put in.
“But the weirdest thing… isn’t even known by the townsponies…” Delia offered.
They didn’t much like this; Loress was the only one willing to engage, “Now what?”
Delia shuffled in her spot, unwilling to even say what she had to; it was impossible, “You girls were the only ones we know that saw Loress fight the dragon. It’s… Well, it’s… It’s gone.”
The casual chatting ceased, snacks and drink halted mid-consumption.
Wilka blinked, “Wait… Did you just say… the dragon was gone?”
Delia’s mouth was sagged open, staring at the fire; she nodded slowly.
Orni couldn’t help herself, “That’s impossible! Loress killed that thing! Its brains came out and everything!”
To the astounded group Delia reaffirmed, “Well, it’s gone.”
Wilka stammered, “B-b-b-b-but the damn thing crumpled! It crumpled and splintered! I mean, Loress caved in the head!”
The dragon-killer stared listlessly into the flame, “Could somepony have moved it?”
Zyra was shitfaced but still had ears, “That’s almost impossible! It would take a whole team of unicorns to even clear all that rubble; the whole place fell in! And moving it would be incredibly hard! It’d take masters to do that…”
Orni had trouble forming the words, “Could it… have lived and run away?”
Loress was fairly sure of it, “I can’t see how any creature would be able to survive that…”
Delia tried to push things ahead, “Well, it’s gone and the townsponies—ignorant to Loress turning its head to pudding—figure it just killed Melchior and the mayor and then disappeared once it’d wrecked up the place.”
The seven of them sat, trying to make sense of it all. Was the beast alive? Did somepony move it? And what would that entail?! This would be difficult to put out of mind, but they’d try. After all, lunch was ready.
Lunch and dessert were good but were dulled by the shocked confusion regarding the dragon “disappearing” on them. Once lunch was over there wasn’t much to do other than sit around and drink. Dechaa and Zyra hadn’t let up and were beginning to grow more acerbic.
Delia, knowing Dechaa was in no shape to take care of her best friend, tended to Essenta for the time.
While Ama, Loress, Wilka, and Orni contented themselves nearby the two unicorns were playing vulture. Drunk and upset they only served to work themselves up.
Zyra glowered, unable to take her eyes off her old friend’s sleeping face, “All this shit… just all this shit…”
Dechaa nodded nearby, just as surly.
Zyra liked Delia, but she didn’t understand some things about the maid; she breathed down her neck, “What the fuck do you see in that coward anyway?”
Delia knew Zyra was referring to Clovis; she’d been complaining of little else the entire day. There was a lot she’d like to say but thought better of it. She didn’t even waste time giving the fuming mage a full response.
Delia applied a fresh wet cloth to Essenta’s forehead, upon cleaning her head wound, “You may love him… hate him… I don’t really care. He can be such a fool; sometimes I want to strangle him but other times… there’s nopony I’d rather have watching my flank.”
Dechaa grumbled at this.
Delia didn’t even look up, “You all came out alive in the end. You came through it…”
Zyra simmered, eyeing Essenta, “You call all this shit we’ve been in coming through?”
Delia glanced towards Zyra, “Little mage… there’s something you and Dechaa should know… When Clovis realized the ceiling was about to fall in on us, he could’ve run out of the hole you put in the wall; he had time. But he didn’t try to save himself… or me and I can’t hold that against him. He pushed Essenta through that hole, no magic. Clovis isn’t the kind of unicorn to respond at once with magic, if you haven’t noticed; it’s not his reflex. Once he knew there was nothing we could do for you he pushed me through and then came out himself… I wanted to try to help you, but he knew we couldn’t.”
The Dale mares were halted in their thinking; they were yet bitter but…
Delia tucked Essenta’s covers up to her chin, “Just remember that things went as badly for him as they did for any of us.”
Dechaa and Zyra, knowing Delia wasn’t completely wrong, went off to sulk, thoughts dimmed by their alcohol veils. Delia hated to see them slink off, so upset, but had wanted them to go away quickly. The unicorns weren’t themselves… Rather, they were themselves in the deep, dark places nopony wants to think about, but they were better than this; they were just showing their worst, was all.
The maid was considering taking a nap; the schlep up the mountainside had been about as much fun as falling into three feet of pig shit off the roof of a barn.
“Delia,” a voice came from over her shoulder.
Delia turned, not unsurprised to see Loress, “Yes?”
“Could we talk?” the Terran held up a flask of cordial.
Happy enough to deal with somepony unaffected by drink she’d join Loress, “Sure.”
Leaving Essenta to sleep and the rest to drink and/or brood the two mares went off near the entrance to the cave, where it was a little cooler.
Taking a swig of the strawberry cordial, Loress exhaled, “Delia, about the girls…”
Delia shook her head, “Dechaa and Zyra aren’t upset with Clovis and me for no good reason, Loress… but I know they’re just tired, upset… drunk, feeling screwed over… No need to go on about it.”
Loress was okay with leaving the subject alone, “Okay…”
Delia took the flask, “This’ll be my tenth winter here, I guess… 10 years… When you say it like that…”
Loress diverted, not wanting to think about the passage of time, “I imagine winters are pretty different from where I come from.”
“Terrow? Yeah, you all have that mild, snowy weather. Around here, other than the rain off the mountain about now… It’s just dry, bleak, and chilly.”
But Loress wanted to say it anyway, “This week… This week, Delia… it’s three years since I left Terrow.”
Delia glanced over in the dimness, “I don’t know everything, but it’s kind of odd for a Terran maid to be off adventuring—or whatever it is you’re all doing—when you’re 20-years-old. Shoot, by the time I’ve paid off my debt—it doesn’t just go away with that lunatic dead—I’ll be 20. Half the maids working the estate are married or engaged and I can’t marry until I’m free. Some stallion could come along, buy my freedom, and marry me but that sure hasn’t happened.”
Loress wanted to deflect Delia’s initial topic and talk about the maid, but decided not to, “When a Terran turns 17 we’re allowed to join the military. My family runs a stable; we have for a couple centuries. The name’s not ‘Claystable’ for nothing, though the place was rebuilt in 4610 out of granite. But ever since I was a filly I wanted to join the army. I didn’t really think about the killing and exerting the will of Terrow I'd have been doing; I was just a kid. But I wanted to join the army and tried.
“The problem is… I’m small and weak for a Terran mare. I worked… trained… got to the point I could outfight seasoned stallions, but strength is paramount. I could’ve stayed home… helped run the stable… met somepony… get married… have a few foals that would already be taller than me in nine or 10 years… grow fat and old…”
Delia couldn’t help but giggle, “That doesn’t sound like such a bad life… but you make it sound boring.”
“That’s why I wanted to join the army. When I failed again and again I got angry and left home. And to make a long story short I just kept putting off going home… I know I’ve grown up some; I’m not the 17-year-old that ran bawling out of town with a rucksack anymore. But before I knew it I was a thousand miles from home, doing most anything to make a little money. When the princess and her friends came across me, they found me guarding a toll-bridge. That was before meeting Wilka and Orni…”
“And here you are,” Delia mused. “Still far from Terrow in some cave in the southern mountains…”
Loress took a dram of the cordial, “Yup.”
“You really are a fine cook, you know…” Delia complemented.
“That’s me…” Loress simpered self-deprecatingly. “Strong as all Hell and decent with the spice rack.”
Delia frowned, “Don’t think that way…”
But Loress wanted to talk about something else, “So… what’s gonna happen with the estate, the city, and all that?”
Delia stared into the gloom, “Well, it might surprise you… it surprised me… but Pallo’s alive.”
Loress took a few seconds to register, then she remembered he was the colt Melchior neutered; they’d been so shocked by the act they barely remembered the colt himself after a time, especially with everything else, “He’s alive?!”
“And still in the mansion. He’s healing up. I actually had to fetch some medicine for him before I dragged ass up here.”
“So, he’s got the estate, now?!” Loress questioned.
“Yes…” Delia looked nonplussed. “Melchior meant to send him away but hadn’t written him out of his will or anything so… it’s his.”
“Oh, my…” Loress stared forward, jaw dropped a little.
“Clovis has a bunch of his crew watching over him, now. Most don’t even know about what happened, but they know he’s next in line for Melchior’s fortune. It's not beyond the pale somepony might go after his life in the confusion.”
“Huh…” Loress continued to stare.
“As far as the mayoral situation goes, the deputy-mayor was sworn in this morning… and was none too pleased about it,” Delia took a drink.
“I can’t imagine he would be, coming in after that…”
“But the continuity of power is being held up… it’s just a matter of keeping the peace while everypony is running around blinded by shock.”
Loress poked the floor, nudging at a pebble, “I imagine Clovis will have his hooves full this week then…”
Delia sighed, “My concern isn’t Melchior’s official business; Clovis runs that anyway and it’s under Pallo’s name now. I’m worried about the shit Melchior did on the side, though I shouldn’t say ‘on the side’; that’s all he did, leaving everything else to Clovis.”
“The old ‘power abhors a vacuum’ thing, eh?” Loress grimaced.
“I don’t know what’s gonna happen with that…” Delia lamented. “I’m… worried.”
Loress chose to ask what she’d been thinking upon considering deflection, “Delia… I have a question.”
Delia sneered, “And I have a feeling the princess asked me already but go ahead.”
“What’s going on between you and Clovis?”
Delia considered the flask, now empty of its strawberry goodness; she tossed the flask aside, where it clinked out of sight, “It’s complicated, Loress.”
“It just seemed funny to me,” Loress didn’t want to make eye-contact. “The first time I saw you, in Melchior’s dining room, you blushed when Clovis addressed you…”
“And I giggled too, if I recall,” Delia blushed that moment. “That… was… mostly an act. It helps I wasn’t pissed off at him. Remember that, well, ‘essence’ he gave off? That had you all feeling he was so together? Well, he is good at his job and when he’s not rattled he has what us girls like to call ‘supernatural charm’; even I’m not immune to it and I’ve known him and his horseshit since we were 8-years-old together.”
Loress finally dawned recognition, allowing herself an uncharacteristically lewd manner, “So that’s why you were creaming over him like the rest of us…”
Delia scowled, definitely pink in the cheeks, “I wasn’t creaming over him; it’s just resisting his charm is nearly impossible when he lays it on. Even without it, though… he’s quite the ladies’ stallion.”
Loress found that hard to buy, “Seriously?”
“They're all over him. His crew jokes about him being withers-deep in pussy... I think the princess was the first mare outside of the business to rattle Clovis, but otherwise he has his pick of the fillies and mares in town. Like I said... I can see through him most of the time.”
“So, you are just friends…” Loress pondered.
“Like I said, it’s complicated,” Delia huffed. “He is my friend and despite me always being at his throat we’re best friends. I didn’t give in to his pulling me into that stupid operation because I owed him anymore… but because he’s my friend… and I love him like a brother.”
Loress could understand friends loving each other as siblings might but something else had gotten her attention, “‘Owed him’?”
Delia slouched, exhaling heavily, “That’s the ‘complicated’ part and it’s a long story.”
Loress looked out; the storm was intense, “I think we have time.”
Delia laughed at that; she knew Loress wasn’t pressing and she wasn’t keen on explaining but she decided she would, “Mom died when I was 6-years-old. I told you all my dad was a gambler… a swindler… and he was. But before that he was a doctor, if you can believe that. Before he taught me how to lie, cheat, steal, and sneak around he taught me about medicine.”
Loress figured somepony had taught her, considering her dealing with Essenta, “You do seem to know quite a bit.”
“Clovis and I often find ourselves fixing up the staff. We had to call in a doctor to save Pallo from bleeding to death, but we can handle most anything. But I only knew about half the stuff Dechaa wanted for Essenta.”
“Hmm…” Loress hummed.
“I don’t know where my dad learned some of the things he did… Maybe from when he was a kid… But coming here, he was outclassed. But you’ve heard all that.”
Loress certainly remembered; her father, Elias, must’ve been pretty desperate to sell his filly into servitude for his debts… and pretty selfish.
Delia crossed her hooves, still slouching, “After he had the accident and died, I was pretty shaken up… I was scared and desperate to get out. I wasn’t thinking clearly at all in retrospect. I mean, where was I gonna go?! I wanted money to get out of here sooner so I… I sold my virginity to some rich stallion about a week after I turned 15.”
Loress cringed, “Oh, my…”
“And I got paid really well for it too,” Delia stared at her hooves. “I got paid so well I decided to sell myself on the side, working the mansion otherwise. It’ll sound messed up and it is, but I was fortunate with that first stallion; he only wanted to screw some filly, nothing else. He didn’t roll me or abuse me or anything and I was stupid enough to think it would be easy to make money that way.”
Loress had some awful ideas of where this went and wasn’t far off in her thinking.
Delia looked sad and tired, “After I got messed up and hurt a couple times I got involved with this pimp. I knew he’d protect me… at least as far as it goes; I’d have to give up a lot of the money, but it was, well, ‘safer’. He did protect me, but he also owned me, I soon came to learn… with no prospects of me getting out as easily as with my dad’s debt.”
Loress continued to listen, feeling more and more terrible for the little maid.
“Melchior wasn’t happy at all when he found out,” Delia huddled up. “But he and the pimp were close associates, having no idea I connected them. Melchior had no issues with him having a piece of me as well; it didn’t hurt my cleaning up the estate. But it also meant I’d be somepony’s property my whole life… But that changed.”
Loress saw Delia’s eyes well up; the maid sniffled, “Clovis… he offered Melchior his own freedom—his own life, really—to get me away from the pimp. Melchior couldn’t believe it but by that time Clovis was already running his legal enterprises, so he leapt at the chance of keeping Clovis around; Melchior paid the pimp and Clovis entered 25 years of servitude…”
Loress was stunned; this didn’t seem like the Clovis she’d come to understand, even giving him the benefit of the doubt, “25 years?! Clovis did that… for you?”
Delia wept openly, “Yes… he did. That was the pimp’s… and Melchior’s price. His friends… when they found out Clovis told them to get out when they wanted, but… they mostly decided to stay with him… He really does inspire loyalty. On top of that Clovis convinced Melchior to knock a decade off my servitude; I was meant to be here until I was 30-years-old or so. But with my skills… I was able to do things like we did last night.”
Loress wondered about something; Delia said she no longer owed Clovis a thing but it sounded like she owed him everything, “So… what, then?”
Delia knew the question’s meaning, “We’ve helped each other quite a few times over the years; it’s more than once I’ve saved his life, as he’s saved mine. We swore to each other we’d not worry about owing the other but… I only said that because I was angry about that stupid plan! Really… I’d do anything for Clovis… I can't help but feel if I hadn't been such a stupid little filly he wouldn't be stuck here...”
Loress nuzzled in and draped a hoof over the weeping maid’s shoulders. She didn’t say much; she just embraced her.
After a time, Delia snorted, trying to clear her sniffles, “As far as that goes… it’s no secret; tell the others if you want. They might as well know how messed up all this is, too…”
Loress patted Delia’s back, after a few moments, and asked, “Let’s worry about that later… Help me with starting dinner?”
Delia rubbed her eyes and gave a little smile, “Sure… Ever try lentils with curry?”
Loress shook her head, “No…”
“Well, you’re in for a treat then. There’s nothing like a little spice on a dreary day like this.”