The last few days had been marked by a fever of activity and construction, but the results spoke for themselves. Thick pillars of freshly hewn oak framed the barn. The freshly painted walls were made from equally formidable planks and packed so tight that air itself could not escape from its iron reinforced protection. What windows the barn had, were barely more than portals. Small gaps to let in enough light and air for its occupants. Even so, they were barred with thick iron and covered in a heavy-gauge wire mesh with no means to open them. Heavy oak doors, no less a match for their housing and banded with more straps of iron, provided a single point of entry and were held steadfast by a large, heavy, jewel encrusted lock. If there was one thing you could count on, it was earth pony engineering. In this case, alarmingly over-engineered, perhaps.
A stocky earth pony with a broad brim hat and bolo tie turned a matching ornately jewelled key in the lock with a metallic ring and thaumaturgical hum. A faint shimmer of colour rippled across the door and faded.
“Fall, Cob; are you prepared for tonight’s watch?” he said, turning to face a pair of stablehooves.
“Right as rain, boss. All the animals are accounted for, and have settled in for the night,” nodded Fall, an older auburn stallion with deep creases around his eyes earned from years of working outdoors and squinting in bright sunlight.
”Yeah, not to worry,” said Cob, his offsider. A younger stallion, barely more than a colt. His coat was a light tan, contrasting a mousy brown mane and tail. “Nothing’s getting past us. Plus, whenever anyone so much as watches – nothing ever happens.”
“And I hope it stays that way. These doors are strong to be sure and as long as that upstart merchant unicorn’s spell is worth half what I paid for it... But I’m not taking any chances yet. I heard pets are going missing now. In the middle of the day too; right behind their owner’s backs no less. No, whatever is doing this, is not done yet.”
“Well they ain’t getting past us without a fight you can be sure,“ said Cob.
“And we’ll just ring the bell if anything comes a-lookin’ with ill intent,” his older and wiser compatriot added.
“All right, stay safe. I’ve got the key, so I’ll see you two in the morning.”
The rancher walked back to the homestead not far away, and the two stallions started setting up torches on the perimeter near the door, just as the sun sank below the horizon. Dusk.
Less than an hour later, the homestead’s solitary light in the upstairs bedroom window winked out and a noisy stillness descended. It was a dark night, the moon occluded by partial cloud cover. The stars, peeking between the intermittent cover, twinkled brightly and crickets chirped loudly in the warm evening air. A silhouette moved on the homestead’s roof. What could have been mistaken for a chimney pipe, twisted, and two dull orange eyes swiveled around in the starlight. With effortless ease, a barn owl slipped into the air and silently circled the homestead before gliding down to the front door step. A silent flap stalled it’s momentum on landing. There was a quiet click of talons on stone as the owl limped across the slab. The owl paused, its head swiveling, watching the distant torchlight of the barn. A green coil unwound from one of its legs. A small green snake slid off the owl's leg and without so much as a glance, slipped under the door sill.
Under the awning outside the front doors of the barn, the two stallions sat around a low table. A thermos of tea and basket of cornbread and oatmeal cookies flanked the beginnings of a gin-rummy game.
Fall washed the cards in a large pile on the table. “Alright, 100 points per game, 500 points to win the night, 25 points for a gin, 31 for a big gin. You know the rules.” He collected the pile into a stack and started to deal.
“What do you think it is?” Cob asked.
“What ‘what’ is?” Fall replied, trying to concentrate on his counting.
“You know... whatever’s been doing all this?” Cob waved a hoof in the general direction of the barn.
Fall shrugged. “Dunno, but this ain’t like no monster we’ve had before. At least with them you know what you’re up against. They don’t slink about in the shadows, they just come at you snarling and vicious. I told you about that time with the timberwolves, right? At least they’ve got the common decency to warn you they're coming. What, with all their howling and stinking and what not.”
Fall pushed a pile of ten cards across to Cob.
Cob gathered his cards and fanned them, frowning in concentration. “Well whatever this boogeypony is, as long as someone’s awake to watch it, doesn’t seem like it ever shows. If not for the multiple incidents, I’d swear it was just somepony’s bad dream. Sometimes I think we would all calm down a bit if we could just see what we’re up against, no matter what it is. I mean, all this mystery is driving me crazy.”
Fall gathered his own cards then turned one on the remaining pile over and set it beside. “Be careful what you wish for. No one’s seen it, so it stands to reason – it don’t wanna be seen. Besides, even if it decided to show itself, you might not like what you see. Ignorance is bliss as they say.”
Cob picked up the discarded card from the discard pile. “Tch, well now I’m certainly in no mood to find out what it is tonight.” He threw out a 3 of apples.
Fall grunted at the 3 and drew a card from the stockpile. “I can agree with that, now hurry up and lose.” he said slapping down a 7 of stones.
Cob smirked, reaching for a fresh card. “Yeah? We’ll see about that.”
High in the eves of the awning under which they sat, a small blue and black spider watched from a silvery web. A sudden gust of wind snuffed out one of the perimeter torches. Fall coughed and spat out his tea. “What in Celestia’s name was that!?”
Cob turned to look where his partner was looking: “Oh relax, it’s probably just a freak gust of wind.”
Fall looked around suspiciously, glaring into the impenetrable night surrounding them. The rest of the torches continued to burn innocently, casting their reddened hue onto the dew kissed grass. “There ain’t been even a breath o’ wind all night. It’s stiller than a mid winter’s pond out here.”
Cob pushed his chair back and put a loop of rope, with a stick of flint and steel on it, around his neck. He sauntered out to the extinguished lamp, smirking back at his coworker. “Ah don’t worry about it, these things are pretty cheap. It probably went out on it’s own, she’ll be lit in a jiffy.” He sat in front of the torch and raked his horseshoe across the flint producing a satisfying flurry of sparks. Cob pointed the flint at the base of the lantern’s wick and placed his hoof on it.
“OW!” Fall yelped.
Cob jumped, fumbling the flint. He spun around. “What!? What happened?”
Fall stood at the table, scratching his neck. “I think something bit me.”
Cob slumped to his haunches, clutching his chest. “For crying out loud, Fall. You nearly gave me a heart attack. You’re making me skittish. Cut it out.”
Fall grumbled back, “Hey you wouldn’t like it if something bit you on the pineapple…” His eyes roamed listlessly around their sockets and his head nodded and swayed clumsily.
“Are.. are you ok?” asked Cob.
Cob wandered back over, concern plaguing his face. Fall slumped onto his hindquarters in an attempt to stop the patch of ground he was occupying from its incessant spinning.
“I don’t feel so good…” he slurred.
“OW!” Cob yelped, and his legs bucked at an invisible assailant as a sudden pinch of fire pricked his flank. Cob spun around but found nothing but the still night air. Almost instantly his head began to swim. Fall had slumped over the table drooling onto its surface. Cob blinked, unable to focus his eyes. He shook Fall, who elicited a miserable groan. At least he was alive. Cob’s eyes wandered slowly over to the bell hanging off the awning. He lurched awkwardly towards it. His hind quarter buzzed like it was full of bees, and refused to cooperate with his brain. He fought back a mouthful of bile and nausea. Cob paused to take a painful breath. He stepped forward again, and his leg gave out. He fell heavily to the ground. The impact caused him to retch and empty the tea-soiled remains of several slices of cornbread onto the dirt. His head lolled on his shoulders, and his vision faded. The last thing he saw was a blurry shadow moving beyond the torchlight and two bright yellow points tracing bright lingering lines in his vision. His eyes rolled back and he passed out.
“Pathetic. They have no healthy respect for fear or wisdom. Perhaps we should teach them some.” Marrok leaned close to the tan stallions face. His lip twitched, flashing white teeth beneath. His tongue running over them.
“Marrok, the council was clear. No harm to the ponies,” warned Tarell.
Marrok flashed a dangerous glare at the younger wolf, but Tarell held his ground. “Tch, fine,” he growled.
The barn owl flew into the torchlight, as silent as the grave. Only the final flap of stalled flight and the clack of talons on wood heralded its arrival. The snake uncoiled itself from its leg once more. It’s body was lumpy and distorted. With an awkward retch, the snake regurgitated a gold, jewelled key.
“Let’s do this quickly then, I can’t stand the reek of these ponies,” grumbled Marrok. He took the key. Studying it for a moment, he picked an end and poked it into the lock. Satisfied he had the instrument oriented correctly, he twisted. It moved slightly then stopped, stuck. Marrok growled at the stupid device.
“Perhaps the other way,” Keegan suggested timidly, stepping from behind Tarell.
Marrok gave her a glare that could boil water. He twisted the key the other way and it gave a satisfying click and pop. An iridescent shimmer raced from the door back into the lock and the bolt popped open. Two blue and black spiders crawled across the door frame. Marrok grabbed the handle in his teeth and gently pulled the door open, just enough to let the two spiders slip inside. Only the sounds of shifting bodies and rustling hay whispered from within the barn. A surprised bleat split the pregnant silence, followed by another. A murmur of lowing and concerned bleats disturbed the still air in the barn, mingling with the shifting of heavy bodies and the dull thud of earthen impacts.
The spiders skittered back out the door. Marrok nodded at the other wolves and slipped inside. The sound of stomping hooves and panicked lowing and bleats shredded the remaining serenity. The barn shuddered slightly from hidden heavy impacts but held firm. Marrok emerged dragging an unconscious ewe. Keegan and Tarell emerged just after, dragging another.
The owl picked up the two spiders on its back, and took to the sky above. Marrok stopped to watch the other pair drag their sheep into the darkness. He admired their handiwork for a moment until he noticed a light winking on in the homestead. A steady lowing of alarm and panic rolled from the barn. He grabbed a mouthful of wool and quickly dragged his meal into the night.
In the dim torchlight, two unconscious ponies kept a stilled vigil over an open barn.
Mornings in Ponyville start bright and early. And today was no exception. Dew clung to the eves and grass, and the sun warmed the landscape in a happy glow.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘NOT FAULTY’!”
A flutter of sparrows took to the sky, startled.
The rancher pounded the counter of a unicorn’s market stall.
The unicorn frowned. He took a breath and tried to compose himself like a professional. “The door wasn’t breached, it was UNLOCKED! Perhaps I was mistaken. I thought you understood the function of a key,” he drawled, sarcasm proving too powerful a force to keep at bay.
“It was supposed to ONLY OPEN FOR ME!” The rancher’s yell bellowed across the market square and attracted the attention of everypony.
“It OPENS to whoever has THE KEY! Perhaps its possession is a factor you might like to take into more consideration next time.”
The earth pony lent over and grabbed the magic merchant by his vest in a heavy hoof. “Look here you charlatan; I paid good bits to secure my farm and I don’t like being made a patsy. The key ‘magically’ disappears from under my pillow and reappears in the lock, my stablehooves are unconscious and two of my sheep are missing. You’re the only sorry sod who's had any magic near my farm! An’ I don’t take lightly to being made a fool.”
The magician’s eye twitched and he gave a disgusted snort. Dissatisfaction was one thing, sullying his good name on the other hoof. He grabbed a nearby rolled up newspaper in telekinetic power and slapped it across the stallion's muzzle. Pushing him away with a second thrust of force. “I am NO charlatan you ignorant mud pony and you seem plenty capable of making a fool of yourself without any help.”
A crowd of onlookers had gathered and watched with morbid fascination.
The rancher spat into the dirt and rolled his shoulder. “I’ll give you a taste of mud you rotten con artist.”
“Bah, you wouldn’t know art if it crawled up your leg and painted neoclassical portraits on your flank,” the unicorn retorted.
A scuffle broke out in a cloud of dust and cursing. The rancher wound up for a haymaker while the unicorn slapped and stuffed his somewhat ruined newspaper in the disgruntled ponies face.
A shadow washed the area in a blanket of dim light, and a low thrum reverberated through the ground. Both ponies paused mid fight from the sudden ambient change. The curious onlookers, now distracted, pointed up into the sky. The two brawlers slowly looked up.
No less than a dozen pegasus transporters, each pulled by teams of six pegasi, soared across the skies, above the dappled cloud cover. Pools of shadow chased them along the ground whenever they passed in front of the morning sun.
The ponies on the ground gasped, window shutters from nearby houses opened and more curious onlookers leaned their heads out in awe. An enormous pegasus structure reared over a distant cloudbank, its thunder-steel bow shattering it apart like an ice breaker. Two zeppelins moved in tandem, strapped to the flanks of the flying warship. A third, smaller, black airship kept pace beside. The air hummed with the dull roar of wind and the low rumble of thunder as the ship cast all of ponyville in its passing shadow. A line of open sky, left in its wake.
All the onlookers stared in hushed but excited awe until the spectacle passed. The two brawlers by now having forgotten their argument.
Provender dutifully drew the plough behind him, the metal blades turning over the packed brown earth. A peel of thunder rumbled over the land and Provender looked just as the first pegasus wagons flew low overhead, dipping below the treeline near the house. Behind them the bow of a huge pegasus craft loomed. Flashes and deep rumbles of thunder gurgling from its belly.
The smaller black zeppelin escorting the warship, slowly descended above the front yard of the homestead. Provender, unhitched himself from the plough and quickly cantered home.
Remedy stood at the front door staring into the sky, shielding her eyes against the sudden flurries of wind. A smaller pegasus transporter had already landed out front, and a stallion was busily barking orders to a semaphore pony waving flags frantically at the sky. The other pegasus carriers circled overhead like vultures, waiting their turn to land. Each one disgorging countless ponies from the covered wagons upon touchdown.
Remedy trotted over to the commander. “What the hay is going on here?”
A burly soldier intercepted her approach. “That’s far enough, ma’am.”
“What do you think you’re doing with half the damned E.U.P. in my front yard?!” she yelled over the rising cacophony.
The commander saw Remedy’s outburst and strolled over. “Excuse me, are you Herbal Remedy?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“And I assume that’s your father, Provender Bale?” The commander nodded towards Provender as he cantered down the path.
“What, by Celestia’s sacred sun buns, is going on here?” Provender barked.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Remedy yelled back. Holding back her bangs to stop them whipping in her face.
“Mr. Bale,” the commander shouted over the wind. “For the foreseeable future your lands are being occupied by the crown to be used as a staging ground for E.U.P. training exercises."
The commander ripped a sheet of paper off the clipboard he was carrying. “These orders come with the full authority of the Royal Court and you are compelled to comply under penalty of imprisonment."
“What the HAY!” shouted Provender, hastily snatching the flapping paper. “I’ve got a farm to run here! I can’t just postpone a crop!”
The commander stiffened his already steel tone. “Mr. Bale. We have already started setting up camp between your homestead and the forest. A cursory glance suggests you are not using that land for any farming activity. You will be suitably compensated by the crown for your cooperation.”
Provender tried to interject, but the commander held up a stern hoof. “Furthermore, you are also bound under secrecy as to the nature of our training exercises while we are here. “
“Secrecy? Why the hay is a training exercise, secret?” Provender slapped the paper orders with the back of his hoof – they know what they did.
”Talking about our activities to anyone will result in forfeiture; of your compensation, and your freedom. Do I make myself clear?”
Both Provender and Remedy glared at the commander. Provender gaped like a fish, building a full head of steam.
“Good,” the commander interrupted again. “One additional addendum. Herbal Remedy, you have been conscripted by the E.U.P. to participate in a strategic training exercise.”
“What!?” Remedy stepped back, surprised..
“Oh HAY NO!” roared Provender, stepping up right into the commanders face, blocking Remedy.
The commander didn’t flinch from the fiery farmer. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bale, this is not negotiable. I have my orders.”
“You’re gonna need a bigger army if you want to take my daughter away,” Provender growled between clenched teeth.
A sudden, loud, blast of compressed air fired from the zeppelin. A heavy harpoon rocketed from a protruding barrel and buried deep into the earth. A mechanical clicking beat over the wind and retracted the tether. The rope creaked under strain, but dutifully reeled the ship slowly to the ground as the magical propellers spooled down with a dying whine.
The commander glanced behind in relief. “Finally. Mr. Bale, if you take issue with the royal orders, you can take it up with him.” Without allowing a response, the commander turned and headed off to greet the landing ship.
A broad door set into the side of the small craft folded down into a ramp, and a pony in dark green robes with gold trim descended. The waiting commander greeted him with a sharp salute.
Remedy and Provender looked at each other, dumfounded, and walked over.
“At ease, Commander. How are preparations coming along?” said the robed stallion.
“Camp will be established before noon.”
“And how are the special preparations coming along?”
“As requested a perimeter has been established. No sign of… trouble so far,” said the commander cautiously.
“And these civilians?” The stallion cast a curious gaze over the commander’s shoulder.
“Ah, this would be the Bale family. They’ve been appraised of the situation, but compliance is – tentative at best. I assume you want to take it from here?”
“Yes, Commander, that will be fine. You are dismissed.”
“Yes, sir.”
The commander trotted off to attend to less troublesome details, like establishing a forward operating base in record time.
The robed figure removed his hood, revealing a unicorn with a jet black mane shot through with twin ribbons of dark green and white. A star and a stripe of white patterned his nose and surrounded the white horn on his forehead, contrasting with the rest of his dark, storm-grey coat.
The unicorn, stepped up to Provender and Remedy with a friendly smile. “I do apologise for the Commander. He never had much knack for public relations. I’m sure the situation is not as dire as he made it sound,” he said, a small pad and pencil floating in his telekinetic grasp.
“Good, cause there is no way in Equestria my daughter is getting pulled into some damned fool military racket.”
The stallion laughed heartily, glancing at his notepad. “Mr. Provender Bale, I presume. None could doubt the conviction of your words but even the stoutest of ponies is held above the turbulence of chaos by a slender thread. And certainty; the grim reaper’s purview alone.”
Provender raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. “Uhhh…”
“So that must mean you are Miss Herbal Remedy,” the stallion continued, unabated, with an effervescent cheer. He extended a genteel hoof to the equally bewildered mare.
Remedy shook his hoof and gave a small uncertain nod.
“Excellent! Well then, first things first. My name is Peridot Lightstorm, but you can just call me Peri for short. Now, if you would follow me please.” With a bright smile he turned and headed back towards the anchored airship.
Provender blinked and stuttered – restarting his brain and rekindling his fire. “H-Hey now, what are you playing at? I thought I made myself clear.” His angry outbursts seeming all the louder now that the wind had died down.
Peridot paused but didn’t turn back. ”Mr. Bale, please don’t mistake my amiable countenance for irreverence nor my invitation for a request. All will be explained in private,” he said quietly, a chill in his tone. He turned and flashed a bright cheery smile that could give Sunny a run for her bits. “Now, who’d like some tea?”
Peridot trotted up the ramp to the airship. It wasn’t a particularly large airship, and the gondola underneath was proportionally small as well. It was going to be quite cramped with all three of them inside.
Provender and Remedy followed more hesitantly up the ramp, glancing and mouthing a silent conversation., accompanied by panicked and confused hoof waving, exchanged in a walking game of charades. Inside, a narrow white corridor ran from the boarding entrance along the side of the cabin. A frankly nonsensical waste of space in the already small ship. Peri waited for them at the end of the corridor where a disproportionately large set of double doors stood closed.
Provender and Remedy trotted cautiously forward down the corridor, Peri frowned at the muddy hoofprints Provender was leaving behind on the white marble.
“You can leave your belongings here and pick them up on the way out.” A bright green glow enveloped the unicorn’s horn.
Provender and Remedy hesitated glancing sideways at each other. Both were as naked as the day they were born, and so had nothing to leave. Chalking it up to unicorn eccentricities, Provender shrugged and stepped forward. A thin film of magic permeated the air as he pushed forward and he gave a disgruntled whinny as the tingling sensation swept along his body. He looked behind to see a sizeable mound of dirt and mud pressed against an invisible magic wall as if it were glass. He squinted suspiciously at the cheerfully smiling unicorn.
Remedy stepped forward, shivering as the invasive tingling screen of magic swept along her body, but with considerably less resistance.
“Excellent,” said Peridot, clapping his hooves excitedly. “Without further ado; welcome, to the ‘Dark Side of the Sun’.
With a dramatic flair, he pushed open both doors, revealing a large, open, ornate room with high ceilings gilded in rich dark wooden architraves. The ceilings were panelled and painted with images of ferocious beasts, mythological monsters, and fire breathing dragons. The far side of the room was covered, floor to ceiling, in bookshelves, filled with old books with thick covers and old Equestrian language fading on their spines. One section of the library sat behind a glass and wrought iron cage. Towards the stern, a wall of windows let in bright light onto a dance floor of polished wood, graced by a mirror polished, ebony grand piano. Thick, black velvet curtains draped from above, tied back to the windows edges with matching velvet rope. On the near side of the window, a spiral staircase descended to an impossible lower deck.
A circular sunken lounge commanded the center of the room, swimming in an ocean of rich rouge carpet. A table of polished black onyx stood defiant in the middle of two curving arcs of cream coloured couches. Further towards the bow, opposite the wall of windows, a fully stocked bar lay against a bulkhead. Bottles of colourful alcohol and wine glasses twinkled in the dim light as a barkeeper polished a glass. A row of bar stools sat fixed in place at the bar, one of which was currently occupied by a dark blue pegasus. A door on either side, flanked the bar, leading to purposes unknown.
“Huh, it looks bigger on the inside,” commented Provender.
Peridot signaled to the bar keep. “Jack, some morning tea if you wouldn’t mind. Just the ingredients, I’ll make it here.”
The barkeep nodded. “Coming right up.” He quickly exited through one of the bar’s doors.
“Jack Rose. Sure knows how to mix his liquor, but between you and me, he’s terrible at making tea,” Peri whispered conspiratorially.
Provender smirked and Remedy giggled at the glib remark.
Perdiot walked over to the lounge, and offered a seat. Provender and Remedy made their way down into the lounge pit, making themselves comfortable around the obstinate onyx pillar. Jack returned from the galley carrying a tray with a pot of hot water, tea, milk, sugar, cups and a plate of biscuits on his back.
“Thank you Jack. That will be all,” said Peri. He grabbed the tray in a telekinetic field and levitated each component separately. “Cream and Sugar?” he asked.
Remedy nodded.
“Black with two,” said Provender.
Peridot drew three cups in front, and poured hot water into the air. A globe of steaming water hovered, suspended in a field of telekinesis. A stream of tea leaves wafted out of an ornate wooden tea chest and plunged into the suspended fluid, swirling and steeping the liquid into a light brown. Then the leaves separated from the liquid and floated into a small waste cup. The bubble of fluid bulged, squeezed by the unicorn’s telekinesis and split into three orbs. Sugar cubes floated up and broke apart before entering the brown globes. One of the globes burst a leak, and it’s fluid drained into a waiting cup. A ribbon of milk swirled up into the remaining two bubbles, clouding them with plumes of white. Two more bursts, and they too drained into waiting cups.
Peridot floated each cup and matching saucer to the two silent earth ponies. Remedy clapped, but quickly stopped, embarrassed for applauding somepony making tea.
Peridot chuckled and gave a small bow. He took a sip from his own cup and gave a contented sigh. “Ahh, nothing takes the edge off travel like a nice cup of tea on your arrival.” His notebook and pencil floated into view.
“Speaking of travelling. Miss Remedy, it seems you’ve been doing quite a bit this last month.”
Remedy’s ears drooped and she buried her muzzle into her cup.
“Quite a bit of nasty business that lot in Canterlot hmm?”
“It was… unfortunate, yes.” She shifted nervously in her seat.
Peridot smiled and chuckled, patting the table calmingly. “Don’t worry, dear, you’re not in trouble. I’m just curious how you became a wolf’s guide in the first place. At first I would have thought you were under some duress, but for the way you attacked the guards. It was like you were protecting a friend.”
Remedy squirmed and Provender’s ears perked up. “You didn’t tell me you got into a fight with the Royal Guard.”
Peridot raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t know? I just assumed... So you wouldn’t know about…” Peridot gave Remedy a concerned look. Remedy tried to shake her head discreetly. He coughed politely and looked away.
Provender’s eyes narrowed. “Wouldn’t know what?”
“Eh-hrm, it’s not important,” Peridot interrupted. Waving the question away with a flippant hoof and cheery smile. “What I’d like to know is how you found yourself in the company of a wolf to begin with.”
Remedy took up the alternative line of questioning eagerly. “Oh, I was attacked by them.”
Peridot raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. “Attacked, you say?”
Remedy chuckled and scratched her mane. “Yeah, they kinda chased me into the forest.”
“Then you must have escaped.”
“Well sort of. I escaped the wolves, but was caught by a giant spider.”
Peridot raised an eyebrow and cast a sideways glance to the blue pegasus listening quietly from the bar. “Oh my! That must have been terrifying. How did you survive?”
Remedy tapped her hooves together timidly. “Um, I’m not really sure about that. But I awoke surrounded by wolves again.”
Peridot leaned forward with an eager expression, his notepad and pencil working feverishly beside him. “So the wolves killed the spider to get to you again?”
“No... I think it was because they had the seal.”
Peridot waited expectantly.
Remedy hesitated. “Um, forgive me. But I did tell all this to the guard already, and they said to keep it a secret to prevent a panic.”
“Ah, yes. Good advice too. Forgive me, but I prefer to get my own statements. I do work for the princess though. So don’t worry,” – he winked – “I’ll keep your secret.”
Provender watched the exchange quietly with measured curiosity. Drinking his tea very slowly.
“The wolves gave it to me. It’s supposed to give me safe passage through the forest. From the carnivore tribes anyway.”
Peridot’s notepad flipped a page, and resumed taking notes.
“The tribes, you mentioned them to the guard. So I take it, that the wolves never wanted to harm you in the first place?”
“Not really, no. The council wanted me to escort Faolan to the capital to see Princess Celestia.”
“Faolan, that was the name of the wolf? And this council, it’s not just a council of wolves?”
Remedy shook her head. “A council of carnivores. Cat Tribes, Birds of Prey, Wolves, Reptiles, and even giant bugs.”
Peridot gasped, patting Remedy’s hoof. “That must have been terrifying.”
Remedy chuckled. “Hehe, it WAS pretty intimidating at the time. But then again, they were also kind of nice. They’re bold, proud, strong and intelligent. Not at all like I’d imagined.”
“Nonetheless, it must have been terrible.” He took Remedy’s hoof in his own, and placed the other on top. “You were very brave. Believe me. It takes a special kind of courage to endure that sort of ordeal.”
Remedy blushed at the compliment and gave a weak smile.
Peridot released her hoof and smirked at Provender. “And so it came to pass, that you brought a wolf to your father's home?” He hid his mouth behind a cheeky hoof and whispered loudly, “you know, pretty young filly’s like yourself normally choose to bring home some dashing young colt at their father’s disapproval. Not dangerous carnivores.”
“Hrmph,” Provender snorted, “Nopony said she hasn’t.”
Remedy pouted and glared at her father.
Provender turned up his nose. “Just telling the truth.”
Peridot chuckled. “And, Mr. Bale, it must have been very difficult for you too. Your only daughter lost in the forest.”
Provender looked down. “Damn well nearly broke me. I’d almost given up hope.” He looked at Remedy and a well of emotion threatened to rise. “There isn’t anything in this world more terrifying to me than the thought of losing her.”
Remedy held her father’s hoof.
Peridot smiled tenderly. “A blind mare could see you love your daughter very much. But it does beg the question, why did you let her take a wolf to Canterlot?”
Provender smiled at Remedy. “I trust my daughter to make the right choice. She’s got her mother's smarts, and a great heart. If she said it needed to happen, then who am I to argue.”
Peridot’s smile saddened and he walked over to the bookshelves. “What you two have is special, a beautiful gift.” He paused at the bookshelf for a moment, then took out a scroll from among its tomes. “I belong to a special organisation. We work to keep Equestria safe from the monstrous forces that rise from time to time. We are brought in when an immediate and direct response is required, so that lives like yours may continue in peace. If you ask, we don’t exist. Whenever a terror raises its head and threatens the peace of our fair lands, we are the ones who stomp it back down. As you might have surmised, we are not here for a training exercise.”
Peridot walked back and unfurled the scroll. “This is a Royal Letter of Marque. At the bottom you will see the royal seal. This gives us direct command override of all civilian and military operations. We answer to Princess Celestia alone. As such, you can consider any order of ours as coming from the Princess herself. But I don’t like to push people around or force them to do things they don’t want to do.”
“Good,” said Provender. “Mr. Lightstorm, you’ve been a mighty fine host, and I may have to apologise for my overly harsh introduction. But I still won’t let my daughter be conscripted. Letters or none.”
“Eighty Six!” declared Peridot.
Provender blinked. “Pardon?”
“Eighty Six, Mr Bale, is the number of farm animals and domestic pets that have gone missing, presumably killed since your daughter returned from the capital. The carnivores are no longer staying in the forest. I dread to think when that number starts to include ponies too.”
“They wouldn’t kill a pony!” Remedy blurted. “They know it would provoke direct intervention from Princess Celestia!”
Peridot raised an eyebrow. “They wouldn’t, would they? Your trip to Canterlot would suggest otherwise.”
“Th-That was different!” Remedy stuttered.
“Remedy? What does he mean?” said Provender, carefully.
Remedy’s eyes shifted nervously, looking for any escape. “I...er…”
Provender’s eyes narrowed and he spoke with paternal authority. “Enough, Remedy. Tell me the truth. No more secrets.”
Remedy looked away, and mumbled in an all but inaudible whisper. “He killed somepony.”
“What?”
Remedy shut her eyes. “He killed somepony.”
“Speak up, and look at me when we’re talking!” barked Provender.
Remedy turned and shouted in his face. “HE KILLED SOMEPONY, ALRIGHT! Faolan murdered a pony, and would have killed more!”
Provender’s head reeled back.
“Happy now! You know the truth.” Remedy simmered quietly. Her head hung low, leaking hot, shameful tears. She hugged herself tightly.
“Killed? But you were with him... how did...” Provender stammered.
Peridot gently placed a hoof on Remedy’s shoulder to quell the rising emotions and spoke gently. “It wasn’t her fault, Mr. Bale. In truth, it wasn’t the wolf’s fault either. An unfortunate set of circumstances, is all. However, this does highlight the problem.”
Peridot stood back. “It’s only a matter of time. Ponies are already bolstering their home defenses. It won’t be long before a carnivore, whether intent on harm to ponies or not, will be placed in an equally unfortunate position. Perhaps an angry farmer might corner one of these creatures and lash out. Tell me, Miss Remedy. When the final curtain falls. When flight is no longer an option. What will a predator do?”
Remedy looked away guiltily.
“We cannot suffer the carnivores to wander amongst us. They must return to their forest. It’s the only way to maintain harmony.”
“But why Remedy? If you need someone to fight, take me instead,” said Provender.
“Unfortunately, the task we have in mind is uniquely suited to Remedy. The sad truth is, Mr. Bale, that if it comes to it, and we have to fight the carnivores, it would be a grim toll. They have the distinct biological advantage. Magic; our primary bulwark. Such is the need for the impressive display currently settling around your home. But that is only a last resort. We hope to avoid such conflict entirely. We want Remedy to take a peace offering to the council, and open a line of communication with them. We hope to negotiate again.”
Remedy sniffed. “But they already spoke with Celestia?”
“Yes, well. It seems Celestia and the Carnivore Council have some... bad blood between them, so to speak. In a rare lapse of judgement, she seems to have overreacted and would like a chance to reopen negotiations.”
“Hang on a second. I know I said I didn’t want her in the army, but I’m not crazy about sending her back into that accursed forest either. It is currently teeming with hungry carnivores after all.”
“A situation which has ironically made it safer – for Remedy at least. The increased carnivore activity should have driven off the less civilised monsters that inhabit these forest areas normally and Remedy’s seal should keep her safe from the rest.”
“That’s a hay load of ifs, shoulds and maybes. I don’t want to risk my daughter’s life on a hunch.”
Peridot smiled sadly at Remedy. “This is our only chance to avoid a devastating conflict,” he said, before turning back to Provender. “You said yourself that you trusted your daughter to make the right decision. I won’t force her if she doesn’t want to go.”
Provender frowned. “Remedy...”
Peridot levitated another piece of parchment onto the onyx table, a quill and ink bottle rising out of a hidden compartment. “This is a contract. You will of course be compensated if you decide to help, but I think this is more important than what it’s worth in bits. Remedy, will you help us?”
Remedy looked down at the parchment but couldn’t focus on the verbose script. Her own thoughts hanging heavily on her mind. “I’ll do it,” she said finally.
Provender whinnied. “Remedy, please. It’s too dangerous.”
“If I don’t go, a lot of other ponies could get hurt. Peri’s right. It’s safest for me to go. I can organise another council meeting and bring the peace offering. I don't want to see anypony hurt.”
Remedy gave her defeated father a hug.
Peridot gave a relieved smile. “Thank you, Remedy. I know this is a terrible thing to ask of you, but your assistance is greatly appreciated.”
Remedy picked up the quill with her mouth, and signed the paper. Peridot rolled the parchment, and deftly tied a ribbon around it.
“I’ll be in contact this afternoon to discuss it further. I expect we’ll begin the operation at first light tomorrow.” Peridot led them to the double doors. “You two probably have a lot to talk about, so I won’t keep you. Thank you again, Remedy. And thank you, Provender, for understanding.”
Remedy and Provender left, and Peridot closed the door behind them. The blue pegasus wandered over.
“A rare lapse of judgement?” he asked rhetorically.
Peridot snorted. “Spare me your judgement, Lazuli.”
Lazuli looked out a porthole and watched the two earth ponies walk back to the house. “A real shame. Why is it always the pretty ones?”
“There’s a town not far from here, plenty of mares. I’m sure you can find one to distract you for a while. Where’s Ki? I need him to prepare the offering.”
Lazuli grinned snidely. “You know him. Probably deforming some hapless sapling.”
Peridot rolled his eyes. “It’s called bonsai, and it helps him focus. You could benefit from some of that yourself.”
Lazuli smirked. “Whatever you say. I still think he’s compensating.”