The room was immaculate, to say the least. The Time Keeper Suite, pride and joy of the Clocktower Auberge. Fineries imported from the foreign realm of Somnambula decorated the suite with their clean arrangement. The walls and cabinets were all decorated to match the stark white array of furniture in a display of contrasting black and white. The elegance of the room was punctuated by, perhaps, it’s most imposing feature: the large clock face standing tall as the room’s main window. Shield Wall, who was sat primly upon a white sofa, watched with fascination as the gears of the clock spun and clicked into its various configurations and pushed the hands of time ever onward along the wheel of metal and glass. With each tick of the gears Shield Wall conjured an image from the gala.
His mind wandered over every detail, replaying the night from all possible angles up to the moment he came face-to-face with the enemy. His enemy, the same terrible visage that haunted his younger life. The same face that penetrated his every thought for almost twenty years. Shield could feel a change happen within him, a stillness he had not felt since that night sailing for the Dragon Lands.
There was no pounding in his mind. No frantic sprint to Midnight for comfort and tea. No boredom. He was, for the first time in two decades, completely present.
Shield Wall’s trance was broken by the sudden burst of the suite’s door and an airy voice bombarding his senses.
“... what we have to do, Major Dome, we simply cannot be caught looking like some common riff-raff. It is the Royal Symphony Orchestra, not a county fair, so you can tell that impudent tailor to maximize the thread count if he wants to maximize his profit from me. Ah, Mr. Wall!”
Lord Aristo flung his hoof into the air, waving daintily to Shield Wall and crossing the room to meet his guest. Major Dome paid no mind to the pair as he lugged a disturbing amount of shopping bags into the suite and stacked them in an orderly fashion past the kitchenette.
“My lord, you are most generous to allow me entrance while you were away,” Shield Wall said while shaking Aristo’s polished hoof.
“Oh please, sir, after your soldiers rescued us from such terrifying tribulation how could I not?”
“Your use of alliteration is impeccable,” Shield said with a feigned smile, cringing at the comment.
“But, of course, you’re not here to listen to my praises,” Aristo began, clapping his hooves and receiving a platter of tea and snacks from Major Dome before resting on the sofa. “Might I interest you in some tea? This batch is fresh from the Zebra-held wildlands, very exotic.”
Shield Wall floated a steaming cup to himself. He watched as Aristo sipped gingerly from his own with a giggly little smile plastered on his face. Slowly, Shield lifted the liquid to his mouth and tasted. True to Aristo’s word, the tea held a bright taste that nipped at the tongue, with a dry and fruity flavor that lingered on his palette like a midday wine. He hated it, but continued to drink.
“My lord,” he began, prepared to deliver his carefully crafted speech. “When we last spoke, I wished to extend an offer for you to join an organization of mine. We are a small, but highly influential, group of nobleponies fighting to ensure Equestria looks after her own instead of surrendering to the interests of foreign powers. With your considerable influence added to our own, we would have the power to set a long-standing plan into action that would secure both personal and career security for all Equestrians. Now, I do not wish to take up too much of your valuable time-”
“Ooh, then stop with the ceremony and tell me your grand scheme!” Aristo bounced in his seat a little, much to Shield Wall’s surprise.
“Yes…” Shield cleared his throat. “My colleagues and I are seeking a benefactor to fund a nationwide tour, of sorts, to help rouse the ponies from their complacency and get them to take matters into their own hooves. Lobbying the royalty and nobility of Canterlot has proven... fruitless, despite my best efforts. But with your help, my lord, our mission to put power into the hooves of those who deserve it simply cannot fail.”
Aristo held his giddy smile and clapped his hooves together lightly, applauding Shield Wall. He leaned over to Major Dome, who stood beside the sofa, and spoke through the refreshments in his mouth.
“An excellent and most noble cause, wouldn’t you say, Major Dome?”
“Of course, sir, truly admirable.” Major Dome made no noticeable change in his firm expression, and his stiffness kept Shield Wall on edge. There were very few ponies Shield Wall was incapable of reading, and even fewer who could mask their intentions for long, but the stoic face Major Dome displayed seemed almost practiced to Shield Wall’s trained eyes.
“Of course, Mr. Wall,” Aristo announced, braking Shield from his trance. “While your notion is all well and good, I would like to discuss means of compensation. An investment necessitates a return, after all.”
“How correct you are, my lord, which is why I have taken the liberty of preparing legislation, overseen by the Chief Magistrate, to allow certain special permissions to lead coordinators of the national effort. Among those coordinators, of course, would be myself and all who lend their support.”
“How devious,” Aristo giggled, almost letting out a jubilant squee. “To use the citizenry as a weapon against foreign interest and as a tool to line our pockets with gold and political favors. Ooh, Mr. Wall, you are quite the mastermind.”
“Yes… yes, I am,” Shield Wall said, feeling a light flutter in his chest. “I am honored to hear you say so. Of course, I have taken care of all the necessary arrangements and once you have made an initial investment we can begin the operation. I trust my terms are agreeable?”
Shield Wall removed a roll of parchment from his coat and spread it across the table before them. Aristo lifted it with a hoof, scanning the document, before handing it over to Major Dome to be analyzed. After a long pause, the aging unicorn passed it back to his master.
“Mr. Wall, your terms are quite fair, indeed,” Aristo said, lifting a cookie to his mouth. “You said it like this investment would be expensive.”
“Then am I to conclude you will join us?”
“Mr. Wall, I-”
“My lord,” Major Dome piped up. “I recognize you are excited to pursue this project, but perhaps we should review Mr. Wall’s financials and project itinerary to test for their legitimacy. It would be wise.”
“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” Aristo said, dejected. “Forgive me, Mr. Wall, but Major Dome serves as the analytical half of our little duo. I suspect you do have a project intimacy?”
“Itinerary,” Major Dome corrected.
“Yes, that.”
“Of course, my lord.” From within his coat, Shield Wall produced a second sheaf of parchment and floated it over to Major Dome, this time.
The grey unicorn held it in his magical grasp and scanned, flipping through the packet with care as his eyes traveled along the streams of words and images that adorned each page. Aristo sat like an impatient foal, craning his neck to see the document and ‘ooh’ing at the various drawings of ships and tour routes to be taken. Shield Wall sat still in his seat. It was unusual for a single pony to fill him with such anxiety, but Major Dome’s shifting eyes did just that as they darted from the parchment to Shield Wall and back again. At long last, he relinquished the document to his master.
“It is sound, my lord.”
“Ooh, lovely. If there is to be a tour I want to ride on the big one.” Aristo chirped as he looked through the packet, pointing an excited hoof to the drawn image of a large warship adorned with Equestrian flags.
“We can arrange seating when the time comes, my lord,” Shield Wall interrupted. “For now, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have given me such hope for the future of Equestria.”
“You are welcome to it anytime.” Aristo held out a hoof to Shield Wall. He stared at it for a moment and, with a sense of internal disgust, reached out and shook. Aristo pulled away which sent a wash of relief running through Shield Wall.
“Now, unless you would like to have a personal demonstration of my wardrobe for the Royal Symphony Orchestra’s concert, I must bid you good day.” Aristo rose from the sofa and walked to the mound of bags in the corner. Major Dome lead Shield Wall to the door and held it open for him.
“Thank you for your time, sir,” he muttered before ushering the vice general out of the suite. He paused and held an ear to the door to follow the hoofsteps leading down the hallway before relinquishing his disguise. Aristo did the same, throwing the wig across the room and releasing the clasps along his surcoat.
“I wish I could create clothing like you can,” Silver said, taking the long breath his slim-fitting disguise would not allow.
“Quite useful, if I do say, but enough of that.” Darrox spread the itinerary out onto the table. “This is a farce, my boy, a clever misdirection to hide the truth of his scheme.”
“Well, obviously,” Silver stated as he began sifting through the bags. His hooves floundered through the cushioned mass before making contact with something solid, sharp, and that squawked at his touch. Silver gave a heave and pulled Gilda from the bags, her feathery head poking out from the array of high-priced clothing.
“Remind me again why I’m stuffed in this bag?” She growled.
“What, you’ve never heard of eggs in a basket?”
“If I weren’t stuck in here I would slap you.”
“That’s the idea, G,” Silver said as he freed her from her cloth-ladened prison. “Besides, if Shield Wall caught on to the disguise, Darrox and I would need your help to keep him subdued.”
“Verily, my dear,” Darrox said from the coffee table, his eyes still on the parchment. “Now I must say, this is fascinating. He seems to have illustrated a series of warships to be used for this ‘tour’ he mentioned. We, of course, know he truly plans to assault the cities along the Bridle Shores, but the level of authenticity with this document is staggering. He must be quite confident in his ability to bend Lord Aristo to his will if he is willing to share such intimate details about the plan. We are on the clock, my boy, no pun intended, but once we find Serenade we will be able to trap Shield Wall in a hole of litigation so deep even he cannot climb out.”
Gilda turned to Silver. He knew that look, it was the same look she gave him that night on the rooftop. Silver smacked his lips, trying to find the words to speak, before a gentle claw rested on his back and urged him on. Silver took a step forward.
“I found Serenade, Darrox,” he said, shakily.
“Oh? My boy, why did you not tell me? We will have to apprehend him at once, and once the authorities-”
“There won’t....” Silver interrupted. “There won’t be any authorities, Darrox.”
“I do not understand...” Darrox shot a confused glance at his student, who stiffened as he forced more words from within him.
“I caught Serenade the night of the Gala by following his trail to Restaurant Row. He’s currently tied to a chair in the utility tunnels below the train station.”
“Why not bring him to the ship?” Darrox looked perplexed. “Surely, we would-”
“We can’t, Darrox!” Silver spoke louder than he wanted, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I had to stare the mare I love in the face and pretend I didn’t care about her. That I didn’t know her. We had every chance in the world to end it right there, at the gala, but instead we pranced about like morons in our stupid disguises, used Gilda as race-bait, and I had to watch Abby walk away with another stallion.”
“We stopped an assassination, my boy,” Darrox said, crossing the room to comfort his student. “Were it not for our little game Fancy Pants would have been murdered and Shield Wall emboldened. There is a process to these things, you will learn, and it comes with great pain. Impatience will get us nowhere.”
“So how long will it take, huh? How long do I have to keep running around dressed like a bed sheet until I get to be with her again?”
“The process takes time, my boy,” Darrox comforted. “If we are to rush we will open ourselves to mistakes, and with Shield Wall there can be no mistakes.”
“She was right there!” Silver locked eyes with his mentor, desperately hiding the ache in his chest. “Abby, Shining, Cadence, everypony I care about was staring me dead in the face. Why can’t I tell them? Why can’t they know?!”
“Because there is too much at stake. If you, once the object of Shield Wall’s obsession, returned from the dead in such a dramatic fashion, who knows to what malicious lengths he would stoop to complete his plans. Do not forget who we are dealing with.”
“How can I forget? I’m reminded whenever I look in the mirror.”
“Then you know how carefully we must proceed.”
“But they would’ve understood!” Silver cried out and clutched his head. “They would’ve known it was me, we could’ve arrested them on the spot and I would be with Abby right now. What we’re doing isn’t fast enough!”
“It is not about rapidity, Silver, it is about claiming victory on all fronts. Do not speak as if you lack hope.”
“Hope?” Silver stared his master dead in the face, his expression twisting with anger. “Hope is me sitting on a beach, staring at the sunset because the little green flash is all I have of her. Hope is training with that cloak, every day, until my hooves bleed. Hope, Darrox, is coming back to give my widowed mother the first smile she’s had in years and saving my home!”
“Do you not understand the mission?” Darrox brought his gaze to Silver’s, pale eyes tensing. “Without the process of justice, true justice, then we are nothing more than over-glorified guards with a profound disregard for personal safety. Do you not remember what I told you on the beach? It is not only the fight, but the discourse you must win. That is what all this is for: to win this eternal game of good and evil.”
“A game?!” Silver seemed to explode, so much so even Gilda retreated from her place beside him. “You think the marks on my back are a game, that having my entire body strangled, held against my will while I was threatened and broken was some kind of joke?! You’re telling me to ignore what I’m fighting for, but you’ve never fought for anything!”
“I fought for Equestria!” Darrox snapped.
“Oh, bull! If you gave a diamond dog’s ass about Equestria, you would’ve been off that island in a heartbeat and Shield Wall would be in prison by now, but no, you were ready to die!”
“Do not mistake my complacency for apathy, boy,” Darrox said in a stiff, grim tone. “I have always been ready to make the ultimate sacrifice.”
“Well, I’m not. Not yet. I have a family, a life, and I’m tired of waiting for them to stop thinking I’m dead!”
“Such things must be fought for with strategy and patience! You cannot simply aggress a few miscreants, parade your skills for the masses, and expect them all to fall at your hooves. To stop Shield Wall you will need more than juvenile tactics. The ponies of Equestria are willfully ignorant of the dark forces lurking in the shadows and will not always have your back. The discourse, my boy, remember the discourse!”
“Screw the discourse!” Silver stamped his hoof into the floor, cracking the polished wood. “Six years, Darrox! Six years and I won’t wait another second!”
“Have you forgotten everything I taught you?!” Darrox’s thin, insectoid wings fluttered in annoyance as he yelled. “This fight is bigger than you. Do not sacrifice the lives of hundreds for the sake of your impulsiveness. You chose a greater responsibility. You are the Ghost!”
“Well right now I choose her!”
All sound left the room as Silver’s comment. Darrox’s boiling frustration seemed to leave him suddenly, replaced with the sinking realization of the pain behind his student’s words. He mumbled something Silver’s ears did not pick up on as he watched his student stomp past and to the door. Silver removed the rest of Aristo’s ensemble and hefted a saddlebag over his back. Gilda, trying to shake off the intensity of the debate, followed suit before Silver turned to Darrox.
“I’m not like you, Darrox, I can’t ignore my love for my family,” he said, his voice much calmer now. “I’ll stop Shield Wall, you know I will, but I won’t kill Silver Spade to do it.”
With that they were out the door. Darrox stood alone in the suite, his old heart pounding in his chest. He took a few steps over to the sofa and sat, ignoring the itinerary and costumes that surrounded him. A part of himself was screaming at Silver. Darrox recounted all he had given him, all he taught him, and that spiteful part of his soul nearly wretched at the thought of Silver’s insurrection. A tension formed across the barrel of his chest as all his fears came to the forefront. Silver would do something rash, get caught, and be killed. He would ruin all they had worked for. The look on Honey Hearts’ face when she learns that Darrox did not keep his promise to protect him, and how devastated she would be to lose her child again.
These and many more anxieties ruled Darrox’s mind for a moment, until he stood and walked to the clock face. Peering out across Canterlot, he spotted Silver and Gilda exiting the Auberge, making a beeline for the train station. Darrox watched Silver intently, how he moved, how he greeted the ponies he ran into, how he kept Gilda to his side instead of behind him. It was these little things, Darrox learned, that show what kind of heart a pony has, and they made him smile.
Despite all their heated anger just moments before, and despite all the cruel words, he still smiled.
--
“You told him.”
“Hmm?”
“Aristo. You told him.”
“Is there a problem?”
Midnight Gavel sat uncomfortably in the chair across from his friend, who seemed to be given an aura of purity by the beaming sunlight coming in through the window behind him. Nopony more than Gavel, though, knew how false such a sight was. He tensed his brow, leaned forward, and spoke again.
“You told Aristo about the plan. Do not lie, I already know you did.”
“Am I to presume you are having me followed as well, Midnight?” Shield Wall sat at his desk, generously sipping from a large cup of tea. “I might think you have become just as paranoid as I.”
“Only because of your recklessness, Shield. Need I remind you how close we are to losing all hope for the operation?”
“It is of no consequence, Midnight, Aristo agreed to the terms this morning.” Again, Shield sipped through his thin smile. “I had sent a missive informing you of the meeting.”
“Why not tell me in person?”
“You were… indisposed.” This brought a deep chuckle out of Shield Wall, which resonated through Gavel’s being.
Normally, Gavel has a firm understanding of his friend’s actions and motives. Even in the most frustrating of times Shield Wall was predictable, but today he saw something he did not recognize. Shield Wall sat with proper posture. He wore a delighted little smirk across his muzzle. His eyes, those bright golden eyes, followed every movement from behind his limply hanging eyelids. Gavel recognized these symptoms from the occasional trance his friend would enter during times of stress, but there was no anxiety to be read upon his face. He had been like this since the gala, since the battle.
“Shield…” Gavel said, hesitantly. “Are you alright? You seem… different.”
“Different how?”
“Like you know something I don’t.”
“That, my friend, is because I do.” Shield set the tea down onto his desk and leaned forward, placing his hooves together. “As you no doubt recall, our dear business partner, Serenade, elected to pay us a visit during the gala in regards to his payment. It has been three days since then and Serenade seems to have dropped off the face of Equestria.”
“Good riddance,” Gavel spat. “We never should have associated ourselves with him and his ilk.”
“In hindsight I could not agree more, however, he would not leave Canterlot without what he is owed. Serenade is far too greedy for that. No, our dear colleague was snatched up by the Ghost sometime after the gala attack.”
“A single pony found Serenade, a master criminal and scoundrel, in only a few hours?” Gavel stared at Shield Wall in disbelief, resisting the urge to scoff at his friend’s claims.
“Do not underestimate him, Gavel. You did not witness, first hoof, the prowess this new Ghost possesses. No, the Ghost did take Serenade and is most likely interrogating him for any information pertaining to our operation. Funds, horsepower, timeline, et cetera.”
“Ugh!” Gavel dragged his hooves across his face, groaning at the words coming from his friend. “Enough of your obsession with this hooligan. Is this what has you pepped up today? Has your boredom finally been lifted because you get to play “cops-and-robbers” with the Ghost again?”
“Do not patronize me, Gavel.”
“Oh, but I will. Your longing for the grand escapades of old has clouded your judgement. First, the ruthlessness you treated our supporters with, then recruiting Aristo to our cause, and now allowing your fixation to rule your decisions. Do you not remember how many nights you spent watching the skies, waiting for him to return? I do, and it was years.”
“Yes, your point?”
“My point, Shield, is your nostalgia has clouded your senses.” Gavel stamped his hoof onto the floor, glaring. “Can you not see? We lose our supporters, and our money with them, forcing us to scramble for a new plan with what little resources we have. Then, miraculously, some airhead of a noble nopony has ever heard of arrives and provides the answer to our struggles, and he is everything you want. Arrogant, prejudiced, and more bits than sense. The perfect trap, and you have walked right into it. Why, for all we know, Aristo might as well be this new Ghost.”
“He is.”
Gavel paused and stared, unblinking, at the still calm Shield Wall.
“What do you mean?”
“Aristo is the Ghost.”
“I do not follow?”
“Then allow me to make it simple.” Shield leaned forward and placed his hooves together. “I scarcely believed it, myself, in the beginning. Aristo, a pompous and frivolous pony if ever there was one, secretly marauding as an avenger of the night. Foalish, but imagine my surprise when both he and the Ghost arrived on the same night, but even so I was not fully convinced. There are many elements even we fail to account for, but when Serenade went missing everything became clear.
“The secret lies with Serenade. A masked assailant storms his home and runs him out of the seat of his power. Then, the Ghost arrives to stop Serenade’s minions during an execution. Such knowledge is privileged, and therefore both incidents are interlinked. Then, enter Aristo. He is young, arrogant, and disturbingly rich, all of the things we most desperately need at this stage of the plan. For all three of these incidents to have come to light, triggered by Serenade’s arrival, cannot be coincidence. They want to recover my plans so they can release them to Miss Rarity, the obvious first choice for a vigilante to go to, and they will no doubt try to sic the princesses on me in an attempt to stop whatever scheme they think I have. I was able to piece it all together this morning after leaving their suite at the Clocktower Auberge.”
“You keep saying ‘they’.”
“Because there are two,” Shield continued. “Aristo and his aging servant, Major Dome. Aristo is far too young to hold any serious grudge against me, nor could he know of my previous endeavors. Major Dome, however, is an entirely different story. He is the real Ghost, that withered old bug, back from the dead to haunt me and using Aristo as a means of exacting some measure of justice. There is no other way that pompous fool could know of my plans.”
“But… if that is true,” Gavel muttered. “If that is true then they were the ones who attacked Coltistrano and stalked Serenade all the way to Canterlot. Major Dome is that changeling in disguise, and now that Serenade is missing…”
The sudden realization knocked the wind right out of Gavel. He slumped back in his seat, eyes focused on the floor, thinking of all Serenade knew about their decades-long crime. Their names, their faces, their motives. Everything waiting to be exposed. His lip quivered and, mustering his strength, Gavel looked to meet the unchanged face of Shield Wall.
“If you are correct,” he muttered, “then we are too late. It is over. The Ghost will attempt to expose us using Serenade as a witness. If I am indicted, then there will be nothing to stop the case from going through to the Investigations Bureau. We will be prosecuted, Shield, and thrown in prison for the rest of our lives.”
“Perhaps,” Shield said, dismissively. “But it is of no consequence.”
“No consequence? Shield Wall, we will be undone. Ruined! After all we have done and all the ponies you have threatened, not to mention… removed, the nobility will tear us apart.”
“They will try,” Shield said plainly while Gavel’s face twisted in confusion and aggravation.
“We are bucked, Shield!” He shouted. “We are bucked and there is nothing we can do about it. Can you not see that much?”
“All I see, Gavel, is a pony who never fully believed in the mission, my mission, crumbling under the pressure of a single setback.”
“You call it crumbling? I call it common sense,” Gavel shot back, rising from his seat. “I have always believed in you but this blow is lethal. When the governors, nay, the princesses catch wind of our scheme they will have our lives pulled out from under us.”
“Even if it comes to that, there is still time,” Shield Wall said, retaining his calm. “Even if we must flee the city, it will take them days to uncover our plans, regardless of Serenade’s testimony. He was kept in the dark for a reason.”
“So we run? We run all across Equestria, being hunted by soldiers, Luna’s Night Guard, and the object of your obsession, until what? What happens after?”
“We win!” Finally, Shield stands from the desk, his molten yellow eyes piercing into Gavel’s own. “We still have cards to play, lengths to which we can go, methods we can use to finally have an Equestria worth saving!”
“Like what? What sort of master plan do you have now, hm?”
“We remove every possible threat to us, like we should have done in the beginning, starting with that prissy harlot the princesses called in to investigate us.”
“You mean Rarity?” Gavel’s mouth hung agape. “The Rarity? The Element of Generosity and personal assistant to Princess Twilight? The one who you, yourself, said we could not kill, that Rarity?”
“Yes.”
The single word hit Gavel harder than any other that day. It left him still, taking with it his will to fight back against his friend’s resolve. Shield only looked on. Inside him was the same stillness he felt at the clocktower, the same he felt staring down the Ghost. It comforted him, proving to himself he was right.
“This is madness,” Gavel whispered. He lost all regality in his tone, replaced by a tremble in his throat and a wash of fear across his face. “Shield, you cannot kill her. She is an Element, and more valuable to the country than any sense of nationalism you wish to impose. She is not like the whistleblowers we dealt with before. Nopony will follow us if we kill her.”
“Wrong, my friend. Just as I had intended to do with Fancy Pants, I will blame the assassination on Griffonstone extremists. Once Rarity becomes a martyr, coordinated with the attacks on the Bridle Shores, the wretched hordes of commoners will be begging for war. And when the Princesses refuse, they will turn to whomever will lead them.”
“But the money? The accounts are dried up, and it will be days before you can secure Aristo’s bits, let alone transport them to the contacts in Horseshoe Bay.”
“I won’t be using Aristo’s money,” Shield said, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “I have already dedicated the entirety of my fortune to the plan. Everything has been accounted for.”
Gavel stopped in his place, stunned by the level of dedication his ally had taken. A hundred arguments formed in his head to convince Shield Wall of his lunacy but, deep down, he knew they would fall on deaf ears.
“No.”
Finally, Shield Wall’s expression broke as he twisted his neck to the source of the offending word. Gavel spoke firmly.
“No, I will not let that happen. There are limits to how far we can go, Shield, and you have reached them. As your colleague and confidant I ask you abandon this course and help me contain the damage before an-”
“Get out.” The words hung in the air, bleeding into Gavel’s very soul.
“Please, Shield, I am your friend. I only-”
“And it is for that reason you still draw breath.” A wrath laid behind Shield Wall’s eyes Gavel had never seen before as they bored through him. “Do I need to repeat myself?”
Not another word came from Gavel. The silence of the office pierced every part of his being as he simply turned from the desk and walked away. He reached the door and looked over his shoulder, only to find Shield Wall facing away from him and out the window, before leaving the office. The soft click of the door seemed to punctuate Shield Wall’s rage as the sense of stillness returned. The cup of tea floated over to him and, as he took a sip, he willed his tension out from his body. With a flick of his horn the window opened to the breeze and sunlight of the outside, while a second flick brought a stack of parchment, a quill and ink, and his sending stone to his side as it glowed to life. The quill began to scratch against the paper as he waved a hoof over the sending stone. His smile returned.