“This place makes no sense,” Gallus grumbled as he glared at the simple zucchini dish he had managed to make for himself.
“It’s not that bad is it?” Damien asked with a grin as he placed his own, far more elaborately prepared, plate on the table and sat down.
Gallus glowered at the griffon before continuing. “An entire race that uses curiously similar implements to our own, controls almost the entire natural world at a whim and for some reason has managed to accept even you into their fold? This place is unnatural.”
“Just a good deal more friendly than our own home.”
“I noticed that,” Gallus grumbled. “That mare whose shop I helped keep somewhat intact yesterday already came by and told me about a couple places that were hiring.”
“You must have made quite the impression,” Damien observed with a wry grin.
Gallus blinked as he worked out what Damien was hinting at, nearly choking on a mouthful of food when he realized what the usurper was getting at. “She’s a pony!” he eventually managed to choke out.
“And what of it? You happen to be a pony as well. Besides, despite there being major differences between them and humans in terms of appearance you must admit they have amazingly human faces capable of equally human expressions. It makes them very relatable. Nothing’s wrong with being open to women of other species after all and Miss Shine would definitely be quite the catch. She may not have the glamor of, say, Rarity but she is quite agreeable and always willing to spread a little kindness.”
Gallus snorted. “Somehow I am less than surprised to hear you admit to such an interest in these ponies.”
“Is this about the dragon, the orc, or that fox thing from across the ocean? Because the fox was a damn good shapeshifter.”
Gallus’s jaw fell open. “I… You…” Failing to come up with a proper response he turned back to his meal with single-minded determination.
“So what kind of work did Miss Shine bring to your attention? I will be expecting some sort of payment in return for lodgings after all.”
Gallus grumbled something nearly unintelligible about Damien but eventually spoke up. “There are several places looking for assistants. A clockmaker who wants a unicorn to help with the more fiddly bits of clock making, about five shops in town would be willing to hire an additional worker, and when she saw my emblem she suggested meeting up with some of the town’s other musicians to see if I can get in on any commissions with them.”
“Excellent! You’ll be able to stop mooching off of me pretty soon then right?”
“I know that you have nearly four hundred years’ worth of accumulated riches lying around somewhere. I don’t think having a guest for a few days will put a dent in your fortune.”
“Yes, but it is the principle of the thing.”
Gallus scowled but didn’t argue. After the silence had become unbearable he spoke up again. “How long until the portal is complete?”
Damien raised an eyebrow and snorted. “Do you have any idea how complex a spell you are talking about?”
Gallus waited for Damien to continue but when nothing was forthcoming he began to open his mouth.
“Of course you don’t!” Damien said vehemently. "It took me months of near constant work in order to create the original portal to this world. Months in a castle where I was at full power, had access to all the tools I could need, and could do whatever I pleased without worry of reprisal any greater than what I got on a nearly weekly basis. Even simply recreating the spell requires at least a month to set everything up right if I work on it full time. Working on it in my spare time? That could end up taking half a year! Maybe more!”
“Work on it in your spare time? That’s the only kind of time you have!”
Damien fixed a baleful eye on his new boarder. “I spend my time learning, reinforcing my home, and interacting with a world that neither hates nor fears me. Well some of them fear me but that’s beside the point. What I would consider my spare time is rare and fleeting. Something you would do well to remember.”
Gallus felt an involuntary shiver run up his spine as Damien spoke. There was something to his voice, something he had only heard in the voices of those with both great power and the drive to use it to further their goals. But just as quickly as Damien had adopted the icy face, it vanished.
“Besides, I came here to retire! Laze about and not have to do any actual work! You’re asking me to break the number one rule I have set for myself: don’t do anything too strenuous. And making a portal back home with any level of haste? Very strenuous,” he said with a chuckle.
Gallus groaned and rubbed his forehooves against his temples. “I don’t suppose answering a few questions would be too much work for you would it?”
“Probably not. Gilda not able to answer all your questions?” Damien asked with an understanding smile.
Slightly thrown by the sudden, slight, connection with the usurper it took a few moments for Gallus to respond. “Yes. There were many things I think she either took for granted or didn’t know about that I would rather like answers for.”
Damien waved for him to continue but said nothing.
“There were two ponies. A pegasus and a…” he paused as he searched for the proper name for the third race of ponies. “An earth pony. They were surrounded with powerful magic. But I was under the impression that only unicorns could actually cast spells.”
“Ah yes, them,” Damien said with a shake of his head. “They confused me for a time too. Even Twilight seemed to know nothing about them. In time I discovered that they are a type of creature known as a changeling. A sort of insect-like pony that feeds off of the emotions of others, most prominently love.”
Gallus’s eyes narrowed at this. “And of course you would let such monsters stay hidden,” he growled.
Damien glared at Gallus and the air crackled with energy. “You will do nothing to them, hero. They are refuges; fleeing persecution by their own kind for their desire to live in peace and you will let them have what they have worked so hard to achieve.”
Gallus just barely fought down the urge to turn tail and run from the table. “Why?” he eventually managed to ask.
Damien blinked and shook his head, the raw energy in the air dissipating as he calmed himself. “They are here with the consent of the Princesses, much like myself. The love they feed off of is freely given and harms no one with its consumption. I ask only that you never bring your knowledge of their true forms to their attention and let no one else know about it. They have spent years building up peaceful lives here and I will not let their work be invalidated by a self-righteous psychopath that thinks he knows better than those with far greater wisdom.” The pressure returned once more, stronger than ever, as Damien locked eyes with Gallus. “Do you understand?”
“Y-yes,” Gallus barely managed to choke out. As soon as the words left his mouth the pressure was gone. “You were quite… vehement about that. What are those two to you?”
“I don’t like it when idiots without full knowledge of the situation rush in and destroy the lives of others based solely on what they are,” Damien replied.
Gallus waited for several seconds, wondering if Damien would elaborate or say anything else. When nothing more was forthcoming it became clear that the griffon considered this particular line of inquiry done and over with. “Very well. I was puzzled by some of the architecture here. I could have sworn I saw some round doorknobs…”
<=[XXXXX]=>
Gallus left the house nearly two hours later. Damien had been very open with what he knew, perhaps too open. As amusing as his anecdotes had been, they had taken far too much time, although the validity of some of them were to be doubted. Could that little pudgy thing he had seen when Gilda took him to the library really nearly destroy the town just because it was given too many presents? He doubted it. But with how little he did know of this realm, and his painful admittance that Damien knew far more than he did, he couldn’t rule anything out.
Of course now was the time to try and get a job, not worry about shape shifting dragons. He shifted the violin case on his back and grimaced slightly. Although he could probably live off of what money he had brought with him, Arkus had been generous and the monsters Gallus had dispatched often had their own caches of treasure, he doubted he could subsist off of it for as long as Damien seemed to think the spell would take to recreate. Since he didn’t even know how much the usurper was going to charge him for room and board, and there was no way he was going to give away his blood, it was probably for the best that he get some level of income going. Flames, he might even be able to bribe Damien to work on the spell faster if he got his… hooves on enough money.
It was in these high spirits that Gallus entered his first stop: the watchmaker’s shop. The bell above the door jingled merrily and announced his presence to the empty room. Gallus let his eyes wander across dozens upon dozens of ornately carved clocks. Each one had the look of a master craftsman in its construction and shone with a gleaming polish that spoke of the tender care they received. He was so distracted by the clocks that he managed to not notice the bright orange pegasus stallion behind the counter. Gallus nearly jumped out of his skin when he finally noticed the shopkeeper, who seemed to be completely absorbed in reading a newspaper and just as oblivious as Gallus had been. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Realizing how pathetic this sounded he quickly spoke up again. “I was just so distracted by all these clocks. Did you make them all yourself?”
There was no response.
“Hello? Can you hear me?” Gallus asked as he took a closer look at the pegasus. It looked like there was… something jammed into his ears. Something to block out sound perhaps? But why would any shopkeeper want to block out any customer; especially when he had a bell to announce them? It just didn’t make any sense. Before Gallus could pursue this train of thought any further there was a torrent of ticks from all around the shop as every single minute hand inched forward one space, a space that just happened to mark a new hour. The interior of the shop seemed to quake as every single clock began to chime. Gallus fell to the floor, his forehooves pressed to the sides of his head in a vain attempt to drown out the noise. Even when the noise subsided he remained on the floor, groaning as he tried to overcome the ringing in his ears.
“Is someone there?” a voice asked.
“Down here,” Gallus grumbled.
The sound of hooves on wood reached Gallus’s stinging ears as the stallion made his way around the counter. “Oh! Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t expect anypony to come by at the turn of the hour. Are you alright?”
Gallus nodded and slowly lifted himself off the floor. “This happens every hour?”
“Yep. Most ponies know not to come in to close to the new hour. Even with all the soundproofing enchantments I had put on this place anypony nearby can still hear a little bit if they’re just outside. That’s usually enough to convince most ponies not to be in here without earplugs at the turn of the hour.” He nodded towards a box right next to the door with the words ‘Free Earplugs’ emblazoned on it. “What can I get you?”
“I’m Blueflame. Slip Shine told me you might be interested in hiring me as an assistant.”
The stallion looked blankly at Gallus for a moment before his eyes lit up with comprehension. “Right! You’re that unicorn she was talking about!” He smiled. “Been wanting an assistant for a while now. Did you know there are two other ponies with clock related cutie marks in town? A brown earth pony that insists you call him Doctor, and a blue unicorn that decided she was better off as a dentist!” He shook his head. “It’s just sad. Nopony around here has any appreciation for a good clock these days.”
Gallus looked around the packed shop. “I see… Then how do you make enough to afford to hire an assistant?”
The pegasus blinked and was silent for a moment before letting loose a thunderous laugh. “You really are new aren’t you?” he asked in between guffaws. “Ponyville may not be too big or too fancy but it is picturesque! All those haughty high and mighty unicorns up in Canterlot come down here all the time to get authentic hoof-made goods and see how the little ponies live.” He snorted to show what he thought of the tourists. “Annoying but profitable. Of course we also have all the ponies that came by in order to check out the Everfree forest and we’re the best rest area between Canterlot and nearly every other city in Equestria. Almost nopony round here buys my clocks but that doesn’t mean I don’t have any business.” Another grin. “I’m Pendulum by the way. Most ponies just call me Pen though.” He extended a hoof in greetings.
“Nice to meet you,” Gallus responded as he shook hooves with Pen. There was another thing he didn’t understand about ponies: names. They all seemed to have names perfectly suited to their occupation and their emblem. Perhaps going by Blueflame wasn’t the best idea after all.
“So how good are you with your telekinesis?” Pen asked.
<=[XXXXX]=>
“Okay, it’s not a total loss. There are still plenty of nobles that would pay plenty for a good looking clock, even if it doesn’t ring the hour anymore. Or keep the proper time.” He looked down at the gears sticking out of the clock’s body. “Might make a good modern art piece anyway.”
“I don’t think clock repair is for me,” Gallus said with a wince.
“Probably for the best.” Pen nodded.
Gallus left the clockmaker’s shop with a strange sort of melancholy. It turned out that delicate telekinesis wasn’t his strong suit. His telekinesis was strong, the gear driven halfway through the solid oak clock was proof enough of that, but his finesse was lacking. He shook his head as he thought back to the list of potential jobs Slip Shine had given him. Sure the first one hadn’t exactly turned out too well but it’s not like he would have such abominable luck with everything right?
<=[XXXXX]=>
Gallus’s eye twitched dangerously as he left yet another store that he had proven less than capable in assisting. Apparently two years trying to strengthen your magic and cast the most powerful and dangerous spells you can get your hands on ever so slightly degrades your ability to use it for… anything else. Oh he could do basic levitation fine, any unicorn could do that, but beyond that? Chaos, destruction, and giant blue fireballs. He still had no idea how he had managed to accidentally summon Sapphire, or that she hated wigs so much. Well he would still be able to meet up with the local musicians to see whether or not he could get in on any commissions or events in the near future. If they could make a living off of it then he could too right? And at least with that he knew he was able to properly use his magic.
Unfortunately Slip Shine wasn’t very familiar with any of the local musicians and had only been able to give him some vague descriptions of some of the more prominent of them. First was a turquoise unicorn with a lyre cutie mark. That sounded like Lyra, he sort of knew her but wasn’t sure he wanted to try and beg a job off of her, especially after he had declined her help yesterday. The others were a blue coated, blue maned, earth pony with an emblem of several music notes that worked at a nearby bar and did some playing in the park every so often. Apparently he primarily played something called jazz and had a saxophone. Whatever that was. Next was another earth pony, grey with a similar mane, who played the cello and had a treble clef for her mark. Some mention was made of something called a DJ that worked at a local club. She didn’t really play conventional music but did qualify as a musician in her own way. Right now his best bet would be finding someone that knew who everyone was and… and… Someone was staring at him. Two years of being thrown into the most dangerous situations imaginable had honed his sixth sense to a fine razor’s edge, he knew when he was being watched. He whirled around to see a bright pink pony staring at him. She didn’t look dangerous; not too dangerous anyway. “Who are you?”
“I’m Pinkie Pie are you new because I’ve never seen you before and you look new are you the one that came here yesterday and tried to attack Damien because that wasn’t very nice don’t you think it wasn’t very nice you should try being nice to other ponies because then you’d be able to make more friends but HEY we should throw you a Welcome to Ponyville Party because you’re going to stay in Ponyville now aren’t you you look like somepony that would stay in Ponyville and that means I need to throw you a party to welcome you properly and why are you staring at me like that?”
Gallus felt like he should apologize for his rudeness but he couldn’t help but stare at the strange pink thing in front of him. He didn’t think it was possible for anything to talk that much. “Right. Sorry about that. I’m Blueflame. Umm, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could find any of the local musicians would you?”
“Lyra, Noteworthy, or Octavia? I guess Vinyl might count too but Octavia always gets mad when somepony refers to her as a musician,” Pinkie immediately responded.
Gallus blinked. “You know all of them?”
“Of course! I know everypony in Ponville! Whatcha need ‘em for?” She looked at him quizzically, her eyes widening as her eyes fell on his emblem. “Are you a musician too?”
“I… I guess so. I was hoping I’d be able to ask their help in looking for work.”
Pinkie smiled and dashed to his side, throwing a foreleg over his shoulders and pulling him close. “Then let’s get you a job!”
For some reason the prospect didn’t quite sound as appealing as it had two minutes ago.