//------------------------------//
// 72.5 Ours is Not to Question Why 
// Story: Prey and a Lamb 
// by Lambs Prey 
//------------------------------//

Luna had raised a half moon tonight. Its shadowed face hung in the clear night sky. The lack of cloud cover meant it was going to be the first properly chill night of Autumn. And not just cool, but actually chill. Change had truly come and was now well set in.

But for now, the moon's pale light was unneeded, as it fell upon the well lit bubble of Canterlot's train station.

A group of four grey, drab looking, and strangely uniformly yellow eyed pegasi had already boarded the overnight carriage. There was a second matching group, who were also stood on the platform, waiting. There was yet still five more minutes before the train would depart. Down at the other end of this platform, overnight porters hastily loading a last trolley of cases and boxes was proof of that.

This second group of yellow eyed pegasi had also not given over their luggage to the porters. They'd firmly insisted on carrying it themselves, same as the first group, although there wasn't much of it to give even if they had. 

Nondescript saddlebags, well worn and used travel cloaks, and little else. Their gear had specifically been chosen that way so as to not stand out. Also, all were armed although it wasn't obvious at first glance. Or even second glance, which was sort of the point.

A griffin claw boot packed away, a long hoof knife strapped under a cloak, a wingblade wrapped up and stowed in a saddlebag, all were the smaller sort of weaponry which could be reasonably concealed.

This second group still on the platform was made up of Gloom, Lieutenant Vivid Edge, and a thestral by the name of Bramble Weft, all wearing a dusk pony amulet. Crimson was the fourth member, but he obviously didn't have the need for an amulet.

Lieutenant Vivid Edge, code name Poppy Seed for this trip, was quietly checking with Bramble Weft about the 'clan wine' they each carried. Everyone in both groups who had needed it had already 'topped up' earlier this evening. Bramble Weft, or Cumulus Breeze for now, was replying to his undercover superior in an undertone. Both kept their eyes, or eye in Vivid's case, roving around the train station.

Gloom and Crimson were standing off to the side, next to one of the wooden pillars supporting the platform shelter. Every second support pillar had a lantern shining down from it.

This was one of the odd numbered pillars, without a lantern, and so had a moderate amount of more shadow.

At this pillar's base, Crimson, Gloom, and Prey were having one last discussion before the two ponies boarded the train and left on Luna's mission. Then they would have another two days of switching trains and boredom ahead of them before hopefully arriving in Griffin Stone.

"They'll be done loading in a few minutes looks like." Prey said, looking towards the porters still loading the baggage.

"About time for us to leave, then." Crimson commented, stating the obvious.

Gloom scratched at the long scarf draped down his chest, "So it seems. Your false papers safe?"

Crimson nodded wordlessly, touching a wing tip to a side pocket on his worn but deceptively sturdy saddlebags. 

No silly jokes or requests to send a postcard were voiced. The atmosphere wasn't appropriate. It was unnecessarily tense. There was no reason it should be, Gloom and Crimson were not going off to war. They'd be back in a week and a half. Hopefully.

"Keep looking at that list Prey. See if you can identify any more potential spies for us to check when we return. You're good at that." Gloom said. He spoke of work, not addressing the undercurrent they all felt.

Nothing should go wrong, not after investing in a real plan and back up plan rather than Luna's. They weren't heading into the wilds, but a national city. They weren't being sent off to investigate mysterious disappearances on the border to the wilds, but something far more urban and known, capturing a griffin. Plus, they had skilled Night Guards with them this time, Captain Nighthawk even. Nothing should go wrong. There was no reason for anything to go wrong. This time would be different.

'But expect the worst, and then you'll be halfway there.' Prey thought.

Everything always turned out so much worse than you thought it would be. Captain Valour and the Solar Guard had been worse than he'd predicted. So had the simple disturbance call out which had resulted in the cellar filled with rats and rotting bodies. Then after tracking down Oyster Pinion, which should've been simple, the pegasus had been shot through the window while they were in the very same room. 

Searching the Lumber Yard had resulted in it going up in flames, Prey being forced to endure the agony of absorbing Garrow's mind, and then nearly falling to his fiery death anyways.

The simple matter of rooting out the traitors in the Royal Guard had resulted in hostility, dislike, and a retaliatory full blown investigation by the Royal Inspectors in return, resulting in the ISND getting saddled with Scenic and Lilly and getting sent out to Mayflower in what was supposed to be a dead two weeks doing nothing. And what had that resulted in?

Kindersnatches, scarecrows, Mama'dukes, and a Wolfing Wood.

And then, when Prey had survived and gotten back, what had happened next? Instead of spending the time recuperating, Lord Vanish strolled in and stole Crimson's jade necklace, got it stolen off himself in return, and so blamed Crimson and got him arrested. Then after Prey interfered to clear Crimson's name, those same self righteous thieves came after him next.

He'd lost both veropedes, and just when he thought he'd finally won and trapped the thieves after much sacrifice, it had gone wrong and they'd pulled out Selenia's pincushion out of nowhere and the end result was that he'd technically died.

So Prey was justifiably leery about this mission being anything but another hidden disaster packaged in a can. Always expect the worst, and you'll be at least half prepared for what actually happens.

And now Gloom and Crimson were about to depart on the train. How could Prey not have traitorous thoughts of worry that this might be their last time ever speaking?

'No, it won't be. Crimson will come back. He's got the electrite feather on him too, so if anything happens, I'll know.' Prey told himself, scuffing his hoof over the hard, slightly dusty concrete of the platform.

Concrete, Prey distractedly decided, felt weird when it got cold, not like normal chill stone at all.

'No, pay attention! They're about to leave.' Prey drew a deep breath of the chilly night air.

"So, I guess I'll see you when I see you. You've got a bunch of those message-in-a-bottles anyway if something big happens."

'-I would go for a hug, but Prey wouldn't-', Gloom thought, rolling his shoulders, "Yes, until then Prey. It won't actually be that long, two weeks at the absolute most."

Prey refrained from pointing out a lot could happen in two days, let alone two weeks. They all already knew that. Crimson shuffled and refolded his wings under the travel cloak, "Please try and look in on Scenic and Lilly at some point while we are gone. They are both still in need of help. And goodbye."

"Yes, bye Prey. See you soon." Gloom echoed, stepping away as the conductor shouted; "Last Call!"

"Night watch over you both." Prey said, trying out the thestral farewell as the two of them moved for the train.

Gloom's face showed mildly pleased surprise as he looked back, raising a hoof, "No worries there, Luna is already smiling on this mission."

Prey kept his thoughts to himself about that being exactly his worry, and simply settled for raising a hoof in return. 

Crimson looked back and gave him one final solemn nod as he stepped aboard the train.

Barely ten seconds later, the whistle blew, and with a huge hiss and chuff of steam, the train began pulling out of the station, gathering momentum into the night. On board the warm train, Prey imagined Gloom and Crimson would be pushing through the isles to their seats, the train brightly lit against the blackness of the windows, ponies trying to find the least uncomfortable position to doze the night away in against the constant rocking and *clack-ca-clack* of the tracks.

Prey remained standing in his half shadowed spot, watching the last carriages rear lantern until it was lost in the dark, descending around the curve of Mount Canter.

Prey turned and started walking off, avoiding the well illuminated middle path of the platform without even needing to think about it. He was expected back at the Palace to continue with what ISND work he could get on with, meaning for now, stacks and stacks of paperwork, filing, report sorting, and submitting written requests to the records department to pull further files. Technically, he was on duty right now, but Screech had been keen for him to go see Gloom and Crimson off. 

It wasn't like the now in command Lieutenant had left a child to walk back through Canterlot in the middle of the night either, even though it was only Canterlot.

They were hard to spot, but two Night Guards had accompanied the disguised thestrals to the station at a distance. To anyone who noticed the pair enough to observe them, it would just seem like they were on a night patrol. Perfectly reasonable for 'Night' Guards, after all.

The duo patrol would maintain their distance, but they and Prey would be making their way back to the Palace at the same time. There were few ponies in the train station at this time, but there would always be a number of late night travellers, either leaving, arriving, picking up someone, or simply working at the station. 

Prey weaved behind the periodically set metal benches on which some of these ponies sat resting, warm coats bundled on against the nights chill and saddlebags propped at their hooves.

Passing behind one such bench to avoid the notice of the pony sitting upon it, Prey halted for a minute. He sat down on the cold concrete, dipping his head to pull off his ribbon and began retying it on securely.

"Enjoyed your evening with your coltfriend?" Prey murmured, not moving his lips.

"I did Prey, thank you. Or I believe I did. Randy was happy at dinner, so I think I am happy." The yellow unicorn mare leaning back on the bench replied, her eyes closed. Or seemingly closed. Illusions were purposefully misleading like that.

"Silence bubble?" Prey asked, making a show of slowly looping the ribbon behind his ear for anyone who might've been watching.

An unpleasant, sharp tingle stung Prey's hooves. "It is now in effect." Lemon answered, to all outside observers asleep.

An illusionary disguise plus a simultaneous silence bubble. Lemon Pink couldn't keep up both spells without effort for long, but this wouldn't take long. Two minutes at most.

"Let's not waste time. Crimson is gone for now, Gloom too. I'll be able to get off work earlier each morning, meaning a few extra hours each day for real work. The mimics must be prepared for."

"Yes, Prey. How shall we proceed?" Lemon asked.

Prey still didn't have any real information on what the mimics were, their goals, numbers, organisation, motives, or plans. All he knew was that they knew about his secret lair, and had attempted to breach it. All evidence pointed to it being an opportunistic attempt, and not a full-on assault. After all, they'd given up after the death of only one mimic to his rune flare traps. 

'Probably cautiously trying to check if the bomb those thieves set off had destroyed my defences, and if they could now get in.'

Not cautious enough, obviously. It had still cost at least one mimic its life. The mimics were Prey's most immediate and pressing concern, but that unfortunately did not mean he didn't have the host of other ongoing concerns hanging on his neck like a millstone.

Staying undetected, cementing his wickerwatch hold on the sewer tunnel network, building up more runic defences on his lair, (like that very important memory based one), rebuilding the scoured lair itself, working on The List, and finally figuring out how to slip out of these accursed gold tracer bands. He still didn't feel he was getting anywhere closer with that. After witnessing Luna's display of alicorn magic first hoof raising the moon, he had a terrible feeling in his gut that the gold tracer bands were made from the same magic. He tried not to think too hard about what he had wrapped around his forelegs if he could at all help it.

So in essence, his worries were the same old, same old.

Prey had given much long, drawn out, and often unhappy thought as to what to do about it all. His own safety was paramount to everything else. That meant defences, proper runic defences. Next, came replacing the veropedes. Weapons. 

The veropedes had been his field leveller against mages and numbers, performing way beyond what he had ever expected. If the thieves hadn't just so happened to have Selenia's weird pincushion, (which had been utterly inert ever since), to take him hostage with, then all the runes he'd poured into his veropede plus the element of surprise would've probably been enough to kill all the unicorn thieves.

So he needed a weapon, or weapons. But unfortunately, to Prey's bitter disappointment, there were no more veropede eggs. Lemon was watching the underground market, but that first time had been a total fluke. The unicorn gardener had thought the two eggs were plant bulbs. If he'd truly known the monsters sleeping dormant within, he probably would've turned them over to the Guard himself. The underground pony market was 'tame' like that.

What Prey had in mind was not 'tame'. It was dark, specifically dark magic. And this particular branch of the foul craft had some of the worst stigma and fear attached to it. And not without good reason.

Prey took a deep breath, but he wasn't about to back out of doing this, "The morgue. I need bodies. Only a few, any will do, even if they're a bit old. But for the rituals..."

"Yes, Prey. How many and when?"

"However many I can safely get away with. But only dead bodies destined for cremation, and only those who don't have any family coming to attend and can be safely erased from the morgue workers memories. Most likely they'll all be elderly ponies who died in care homes of natural causes. I hope they're all only elderly ponies." 

Prey hated ponies for their endless wealth and privilege, unicorns especially so. However, although he was no stranger to desecrating the dead, he didn't wish random civilians would drop dead just so he could have their corpse, whose only wrong doings were limited to the usual pony racist supremacy. Or at least, he kept those wishes carefully contained. Those had been the Resistance's wishes. And he didn't want to be Prey, the last Resistance member any more. So he continued:

"The actual acquisition and transport shouldn't be difficult. It'll take a week to set up. A daily visit to read their memories and find bodies which won't be missed. We'll mind control them to change the paperwork so the chosen deceased are cremated last thing in the day. We'll leave a mental compulsion for them to open the back door and let us take the bodies away. Wipe their memories, implant false ones, leave a urn of wood ash behind each time, no one will be any the wiser."

And yes, Prey really did have reason to believe it would be that simple.

"I'll refine the plan later when we have the morgue's actual schedule, but that'll be our approach." Prey added. He'd finished retying his ribbon, so their time was up. He stood:

"Meeting point D tomorrow morning, so we can make a start. See you there."

"Yes, Prey. I will be there."

Prey hesitated for a brief half-second, but he'd already made the decision inside, "Also, targets four and seven on The List. It's time to finally do this. I want to deal with them both before Gloom and Crimson's return. Possibly even on the same night."

Prey heard Lemon's last words just before he stepped past the intangible confines of the silence bubble, "Yes, Prey. Our revenge will be had."


------


It was quiet, very quiet in the ISND's office. The half stacked wooden shelves pushed against the walls and the three alcoves seemed to reflect every tiny noise Prey made back at him. The scratch of the quill on yet another form, the ruffle of pages as he moved it to the complete pile and pulled over the next one, even the occasional flicker of the candle seemed to make its own noise.

It was quiet in the ISND's office, and very empty. 

Prey sat on the rickety stool at the desk, (Gloom's chair was too low for him), in the middle of the empty office and filled in forms and paperwork long into the night. He periodically rubbed at his eyes. Yellow candle light reflected off old, polished wood. He finished writing the summary on an old, closed case for periodic review, and started the next one.

His stool creaked as he shifted. There was very little else of note. The hours of the night passed as Prey completed his assigned work. Alone.

Prey was used to being alone, very used to it. He'd spent fifty-seven years in a cell in Dreverton being just that; alone. He was used to it.

And Prey could appreciate the peace and quiet. He had two weeks of normal, boring work during which he could get his own projects done, and then Gloom and Crimson would be back. This was actually a great opportunity. Most of the Night Guard command were gone, so there were even less people to keep an eye on him. Plus, conveniently, because they were thestrals and he was Prey, no one felt the constant need to keep track of him like a normal pony adult would've been compelled to do. 

As long as he came and went each day to the Palace and showed willing to 'do his duty and serve Luna', no one seemed to think there was anything wrong with leaving a child unattended.

Which sort of made sense, since it would've been silly for them to only start caring now.

Yes, this was an opportunity. He was used to being alone. This was good even.

Still... He was alone now, for the first time in what felt like a long time. It wasn't that long in reality, but how you experience time relates to what you did during that time. And now he was alone for nearly two weeks.

Prey kept working through the night shift, and just before morning came, was the first in the mess hall for breakfast. Free food is free food after all. He fended off Cookie with a smile, distracting her from the reasoning he was eating alone, and once finished walked out of the Guard Entrance. 

The sun was rising of Canterlot's golden spires, making them glitter almost blindingly. Prey squinted, a hoof shading his eyes. The chill of the night was already fading to merely brisk morning air. Prey had his wool, so he'd be fine up until winter arrived proper.

Prey sighed and clonked himself lightly on the head with a hoof, 'What am I, an abandoned dog pining for its master? It's been one night, one. When did I get so weak?'

He wrapped up the feeling and shoved it away, and started trotting towards Meeting point D, an old out-of-use lamppost in Lower Canterlot and overgrown with ivy. It was out of the way, unobserved, and few people walked the back alley paths required if you wanted to get there. Few people aside from Lemon and Prey that is, and Prey did know the way. Done with his Night Guard work, now his real work for the day could start.

A white runt lamb wound off into the early morning streets and was swiftly lost from the view of the yawning Guards on the gate.


---Before---


Luna had wanted to speak. Before, back at the Palace. And what an alicorn wanted, an alicorn got. And so at her word, the ISND had remained behind in the night court.

Prey had to force himself not to hold his breath as the moon inscribed double doors of the court had swung shut behind them, leaving the three of them alone in the room with Luna. She was looking at them, her face and posture a closed mystery. Prey's mouth was dry.

The dim hall of the night court felt so empty, and yet also not big enough to Prey.

"Yes Princess?" Gloom had asked, standing straight.

Luna's mane drifted across one eye. The other didn't even flicker from its piercing gaze resting on the three of them, "Sargent Gloom, thy command has served us well yet again. We have not forgotten thy previous services neither. Once again, thy prove thy great worth to our nation."

"Thank you, Princess Luna. It's our duty." Gloom replied, the correct and formal answer. Prey kept his mouth firmly shut.

Gloom had given the correct answer, but this time for some unfathomable reason, Luna did not just accept it as her due. Her dark mane continued to drift and billow across her face, occasionally covering her indigo eye, occasionally not. But her visage did not change either way. She seemed to ponder Gloom's words for a long, long moment.

"Aye. Duty. Tis' always been so that those who uphold theirs must pay the price for the rest." For once, Luna had not almost shout, leading Prey to believe it was her version of speaking to herself.

Not being able to hear the alicorn's thoughts, Prey had no idea if he was right or not, or where this conversation was going. 'But it's going to be bad isn't it? Of course it is, it's always bad.'

Luna's volume returned to normal, "Sacrifice need not always be the prize for diligence though. We had wished to hold thy medal ceremony before this mess with the traitorous griffins, but now it must needs wait we see. Ti's a shame, but needs must, and duty first. Our Sister and Captain Shining Armour-Nay, it matters not now. Sufficed to say, thy just rewards and acclaim have not and will not be forgotten in shadows, merely delayed. It shall be held when thou return successful once more."

Prey didn't want a stupid medal, and he knew for a fact that neither did Gloom or Crimson. A medal for what? Surviving when so many others hadn't? But you don't say no to an alicorn, especially when they think they're doing you a favour.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Luna continued staring at the three of them. It felt like she was staring down into their bones. Finally, after what felt like far too long to be natural to Prey, she blinked. "Yes indeed. Thou have all come far since first we gave thee this chance, but do not rest on thy laurels. Thou art clay and we the potter, and we have not finished shaping you all yet. Prey and Crimson, by our grace we gave thee a second chance. Well done." 

What did you say to that? What were they supposed to say to that? What could any of them say? It hadn't even been a question.

Then, almost as an after thought, "Thou shalt succeed in thy mission, Sargent Gloom and Private Crimson. We have confidence in our Night Guard."

'Our' Night Guard. Hers, possessive.

"And Prey."

Prey'd had to stop himself from flinching at that, "Yes? Your Majesty?"

"At thy last review, we told thee plainly of thy need to improve. It pleases us to see that thou understood our sage words and have followed them, for this time we art reasonably pleased with thy progress. Continue to do so."

Luna was appointing herself as the judge of him? After everything, after this latest madness of throwing Crimson and the rest of the Night Guard command at Griffonia in a harebrained scheme? That she somehow had the right and was also somehow qualified to after conscripting him against his will?

Prey smothered his anger, twisting the noose on it until it stopped struggling. Luna was an alicorn. The strong take, and the weak give. So he'd bowed his head, ribbon brushing against the side of his face as he looked at nothing but the marble floor, "I understand."

Was he supposed to be proud or grateful that he'd somehow satisfied her? Worse, it was actually a weight off his shoulders, even if he hadn't known he was going to be judged today. Because Luna was satisfied with his progress into becoming whatever loyal servant it was she'd envisioned, it meant he'd be left alone.

He'd earned himself some breathing room, even if it sat bitter in his stomach.

As they had left the Night Court, the silver double doors closing behind them, the unpleasant thought had wormed it's way into Prey's head and refused to leave, and making tiny uncontrollable tremors run up and down his legs.

'I didn't know I was also on probation from Luna's point of view. What would she have done to me if I hadn't met her standards this time around?' 

And what about the next time?

But at least, for now, he was okay. For now. Crimson was about to leave him behind, but he was still alive. He was okay. 'Live to escape another day.'

You never knew how much time was left in your hourglass, after all.


---Now---


"Raven magpie, fly away, Scarecrow, keep at bay~", Prey hummed under his breath, reaching over to adjust the crystal lantern's white light. He'd been absently repeating the silly children's rhyme for the past hour now, and it seemed like he was going to go on repeating it, because he was no closer to discovering anything further about the subject of his intent focus.

Lying on top of the makeshift crate table set on his lair's new gravel flooring, Selenia's pincushion rested in the bright lantern light. 

All three pins were pushed into the raggedy cloth ball up to their heads. Prey didn't know how you were supposed to go about charging them up to remove them again. And no, simply pulling them out hadn't worked.

Yes, Prey was sitting amongst the gravel of his scoured lair, the same one the mimics he was preparing lethal defences against had tried to break into. 'Tried' being the key word. Above his head somewhere in the city, Lemon Pink was scouting out the city morgue, since he didn't need her right now. Then she'd go check the wickerwatch still hidden down in the Sewer's Heart. Prey's current work didn't require two people to carry out, and safety wise, the mimics couldn't get in here, despite their trying.

Trying and failing. Even the thieves had fallen back on simply trying to destroy his lair, unable to actually capture it.

The mimics, whoever they were, might attack at any moment while he was right here, but because of all the runes he'd prepared, this was actually the safest place in the whole of Canterlot. His flat, with all its own runes, came in second. 

That said, it still made Prey's wool crawl to turn his back on the far tunnel, despite that tunnel also still being blocked by fallen chunks of stone. Hence the humming. He'd heard it was a good way to distract oneself, so he was attempting to fill the silence of the cavern with the nursery rhyme from his childhood. To be honest, it wasn't really working.

"Wheat n' barley dance and sway, Harvest king, come to play~", The pincushion was a source of frustration to Prey. He knew how incredibly dangerously powerful it was, and that it had belonged to the Great White Witch, Selenia, but that was about it. 

This was not the first study session Prey had devoted to trying to learn even a sliver about the pincushion, and unfortunately, it certainly would not be the last session either. 

Still, Prey didn't let himself become discouraged. He hadn't held out much hope of making a break through today anyways. The pincushion was an innocuous little thing, lying there on his hastily knocked together crate table. Visually, just a cloth rag ball and some old pins. Without being charged up, it wasn't even really dangerous.

Prey was treating it as he would a live Bone Rot mine. It was not innocent, it was not safe, and it was not harmless. At the moment the dark magical artifact may be inert, but he would never forget it was still a dark magic artifact. 

Prey knew he should feel more threatened by what was lying before him. He'd seen what it could do, he'd been the victim. But now it was just utterly inert.

"Straw the barn n' reap the hay, Sickle slice, fell and dice~", Prey hummed tunelessly, slowly pushing the pincushion through another simple runic array. He was using a stick, because caution never hurt, despite knowing if something went wrong the magical consequences would probably reach a lot further than just a stick. 

Then again, poking something with a stick instead of using his hoof like a moron had saved his life many times in the Deeper Green. It sounded funny, but it really wasn't when a Spitting Nessian shot out of the undergrowth and bit the stick instead of leaving you screaming in agony for five hours before you finally died of catastrophic organ failure. Then it wasn't funny at all.

Nothing happened to the pincushion, and the feedback from the scan revealed nothing either. 'Okay, I can cross that test off the list. Next one.'

Prey used his trusty stick to position Selenia's pincushion over another basic array. "For winter's bite comes cold as fright, Hungry wolves, in the night~"

Nothing happened again, which was the norm by now. The runic array would only provide a result if there was a dead match on the correct type and attribute of magic it was attuned to. It might not respond at all even if it was normal attuned since it was inert. Having nothing to go on, Prey was essentially relegated to going down the list of tests one at a time and seeing what, if anything, worked.

'Another non-result and another test off the list. Next one.'

"For farmer knows to plant and grow, Fallow fields, barren rows~" Prey sat back on his haunches for a moment on a plank on the gravel, critically examining the pincushion yet again, propping his chin on a hoof. He was using scavenged planks and crate tops as walkways across the shifting gravel covering the cavern. 

"Summer passes at its height, Reaper king, laughs delight~", While you could walk in the gravel if you really wanted to, you couldn't however tell if there was a hidden pocket or dip beneath it. That was an excellent way to break a leg. And Prey was keeping well away from the sinkhole in the middle of his lair. He didn't like looking down into the black depths of the sinkhole. You never knew what might be down there.

Prey finished humming the last line of the nursery rhyme in this rotation, making it the twenty third time, "Raven magpie, fly away, Scarecrow, keep at bay~"

Selenia's still pincushion sat there on the crate top. But Prey couldn't help the illogical feeling that the little rag bundle was staring at him. Prey didn't feel as leery of that sensation as he should've been.

That in and of itself worried him, and yet it also didn't, but it honestly should. He knew that. But internally, he was already viewing the pincushion as his property.

If that wasn't a sign of dark magic, even if his scans hadn't picked anything up, then Prey didn't know what was.

He'd seen, he'd experienced the danger the pincushion represented. So why then did the Selenia's pincushion feel so... familiar?

'Because it's subtly affecting your unconscious mind, that's why.' Prey bluntly told himself.

This thing was dangerous. Very dangerous. It was subtly affecting him, a mind leech, without him being able to spot the intrusion despite knowing it was happening.

'But I can't just get rid of it.' Someone else might find it if he did. And Prey didn't know if it was even possible to destroy it.

Dark artifacts had a way of reforming or finding their way into others' hooves. Somehow, someway, such otherwise inanimate objects possessed a will. They wanted to be used. That was how Prey had lost the Lich's mirror. He'd thought he'd found it, and it wasn't until later that he'd figured out it had found him. And then later when he lost the mirror, it was really because it had wanted to lose him.

Prey briskly shook his head, chasing away the old, habitual shiver. He shouldn't be thinking about such things while sitting alone, with only a lantern for light here under the mountain. He knew better than this.

He was safe here in his protected lair, but how 'safe' was safe really?

'No need to risk it more than strictly necessary.' 

Prey started up humming for a twenty-fourth rendition, and picked up his useful pokey stick, "Wheat n' barley dance and sway, Harvest king, come to play~"


------


Gloom had asked Prey to visit Lilly and Scenic, to check up on them. Not something Prey wanted to have to do, but would probably have to muster the effort to try at least once just to say he had by the time the Night Guard returned. When. Not if they returned, but when. It would be a when.

Nothing was going to go wrong.

But the point was, Prey had been going to plan in a visit to go see them to fulfil his obligations. He was not expecting to have either of them come to visit him at his flat instead. Least of all Lilly Blossom.

But twenty-five minutes before Prey had to leave to arrive at the Palace on time, he found himself instead looking up at Lilly from his own doorstep. Saffron was accompanying her again. Both wore what amounted to civilian disguises. Meaning hats, long sleeved coats, large sunglasses, and loose scarfs. And in Lilly's case, a gauze veil too.

Saffron pulled off the outfit like, well, a model. Lilly decidedly less so. Saffron really was taking her self imposed duty of facilitating Lilly's recovery seriously.

Both parties stood examining the other across the portal of the open door frame in silence.

Behind the two mares, the framed sun sent late evening light streaming in over the balcony, and street sounds drifted up from the ground.

'You know what Gloom?' Prey thought to his absent thestral Sargent, 'I may have to deal with this, but I won't have to deal with it for long.'

"I need to leave for work in ten minutes." Prey said, laying his groundwork right from the get go.

"Oh. You're a worker at the Palace with Gloom and Crimson, unless I've got that wrong?" Saffron asked, glancing quickly back at the late evening sun, which would soon be on its way to setting.

Prey heard her pained sounding thoughts; '-foals aren't supposed to be workers, or work night shifts. But foals aren't supposed to be Guards either-'

"That's right, I've got work." Prey stated, smiling pleasantly.

It was none of Saffron's damned business, but evidently someone had finally gotten around to explaining to her what Prey actually did. Or at least some of the basic details anyways. And surprise, surprise, she was disturbed by this. If Prey were just a normal foal he would've missed her upset, because Saffron was a model, who made a career out of acting her part. Her mask was good, especially for a pony, but Prey's was better.

He didn't care in the slightest about her discomfort though, and just kept smiling pleasantly.

Saffron tried to match his smile with a warm one of her own, "Ah, you're a... Night Guard, or something, is that right Prey?"

"Yep. That's what I was doing in the Palace the first time we met. You know, when you were sitting on that bench." Prey replied. 

'Contemplating suicide.' He silently added in his head.

The cheap shot hit Saffron like a kick to the gut because she hadn't been on guard, and it was doubly effective because she didn't know Prey was doing it on purpose. Her ears trembled for just the briefest moment before she mastered her mask again. If you weren't looking, you wouldn't have caught it. Lilly certainly didn't catch her friends brief flash of pain:

"That's right Prey, we got to sit and share the sunshine together. It was quite lovely. It would be nice to do it again sometime soon."

'-that was a bad time, I'm still so ashamed of myself. But Prey didn't mean anything by it-'

"Hmm, doubtful. But I've got to go soon. What brings you here?" Prey asked the both of them although he was looking solely at Lilly Blossom. It couldn't have been easy for her to climb the two flights of stairs necessary to get to Prey's flat with her meldwood leg. What did she want?

'I'd thought she'd still be seething and wallowing in anger and self pity respectively after our last little 'chat'. What's gotten her to pull herself together so early? I was expecting at least another fortnight of that first.'

Yet here Lilly stood. All dressed up to hide her shame, but still she stood in the late sunlight.

Lilly reached up with her good hoof, awkwardly balancing on her meld wood leg, and clumsily pulled off the hat and veil without the use of magic. Her disfigured face, with the meld wood root growing out of her face and up to wrap around her horn, clearly revealed to Prey.

He looked steadily back up into her face, easily seeing the brittle courage and suppressed anger there; "Hello Lilly Blossom. I can't say I was expecting a visit, but what can I do for you?"

"I needed to speak with you." Lilly's words came out in a suppressed rush. Prey could easily tell she was trying to control her breathing.

"We're speaking right now."

Lilly inhaled sharply, jaw tense, "I came because I had to. Both because the doctor said to, and because it was the right thing to do."

Prey raised one woolly eyebrow, "Yes?"

Her nostrils flared, "I came because I needed to say..."

'-Celestia, this is all so bucked up, I hate this. Gotta' do it, gotta' do it, can't keep hiding forever. It's all horseapples, but I'm going to survive and stick it to them!-'

"...To say...Ttttthank you. I'm alive. So thanks. I didn't say that yet. I could be dead. But I'm alive. I don't, it's not, not always but-rrrr, just thank you. That's it."

The 'Them' in Lilly's thoughts just now being her family, Prey was pretty sure. Well if they were going to abandon her, then they weren't qualified for the title in the first place. Not that Prey actually cared, but he supposed he was going to have to pretend to care.

"And because I needed to ask you...Ask you..." Lilly clammed up for a moment. Saffron made an encouraging noise next to her.

"Yessss? Ask me what?" Prey drawled.

Lilly inhaled sharply again, the meld wood root growing up over the corner of her eye making it look like she was glaring, even if Prey knew in this instance it was unintentional, "To ask you why? And how?"

Saffron leaned over and rubbed shoulder's with Lilly, "Perhaps you should elaborate on what you're asking a bit Lilly?" She murmured.

Lily exhaled, "Yeah. Yeah I should. What I'm asking is, why'd you say what you did? Why'd you make me angry and tell me to be angry? No pony else has."

'-everypony else is saying it's okay, stay strong, it'll get better, I believe in you, don't give up instead. Don't those idiots know it's not okay?-'

"Well I'm not everypony else am I? I'm a sheep. You'd be surprised how often you get non-pony ideas from nonponies. And you already know why I told you to get angry, right?" Prey shrugged lightly, "It's what you needed. Tell me being angry and functioning is better than being depressed and listless, I dare you."

Lilly couldn't deny that, '-it does feel better, damn him. I know who's fault all of this is now, and it's not mine-', She shifted, raising her chin.

"So what? I can be angry if I want to. They should've helped me, and those buckers abandoned me instead. I got into the Guard by myself, even after they told me to give up trying. They never believed in me." Lilly said, while also internally justifying her anger to herself for what was no doubt the hundredth time. 

She fully believed her own justifications too, Prey could see. Even if that belief was often weak and rusted. But as long she remind herself every now and then, she could continue to believe it.

Prey smiled politely again, and bobbed his head in a nod, "As you say, Lilly."

Saffron herself was saddened by what she was hearing, but this wasn't about her so she was staying quiet, '-mother always used to lecture anger only leads to hurting yourself, but this is Lilly's decision, so I'll support her-'

"Yeah. I do say so." Lilly asserted. In truth though, there were easily visible cracks of uncertainty in her mask of bravado. Was the uncertainty only because it was Prey who'd spoken? Would she second guess everything that was said by him from now on?

'So she's still unsure how to act around me and trying to settle on one feeling. Understandable. I've completely shattered her world view multiple times now.' Prey thought.

"And the how?" Lilly asked, "I still want to know how."

Prey made a show of huffing, wishing she'd just get on with it, "How what? You're going to have to be more specific. Use your words."

Lilly gestured around sharply, long sleeved coat flapping on her good leg as she waved it around at everything, "This. That. Everything. I mean, how? You just go through the day, like nothing happened. Or like it did happen, but you don't care. How do you do that? How can I do that? Back at, at Mayflower, and all that stuff, how can I do all that too?"

Prey's eyes didn't shift over to Saffron, but he was aware of the heart faced model holding her breath, anxiously waiting to hear what he answered Lilly:

'-nopony will tell me what happened at this Mayflower. Just what I already know, but Celestia, if that's what happened to poor Lilly...-'

Prey thoughtfully stroked the cool silken length of his ribbon, "I've got some bad news I'm afraid. It's not going to get any easier."

"But it's got to get easier. This feeling can't keep going forever."

"I didn't say your anger wouldn't end. I meant the weight on your shoulders won't ever go away. Some days you'll feel strong enough to carry it. Others you won't, but that yoke is now permanently on your shoulders from here on out. What do you think Gloom, Crimson, and Scenic deal with every day too? It's the exact same for them. Get used to it."

"That!" Lilly jabbed her hoof, "I want to be able to do that. To just say, 'get over it' and mean it. How do I do that?" She demanded.

Prey blinked, 'Hasn't it occurred to her that I could just be saying that to get her to shut up and go away? Is she really taking everything at face value? What an idiot.'

"I'm not some fortune cookie. I don't have one liner's filled with mystic wisdom," Prey snapped, "How about you try figuring out your own method for coping? Since you've already worked past first your self-loathing and despair in hospital, then your apathy once you were out, you're perfectly capable of figuring out how to handle your anger yourself."

Lilly Blossom stared at him. Her jaw flapped, "I... what was that?"

Prey repeated himself, "I said, you can figure out how to handle your anger yourself. It's not my job to solve for you."

Lilly looked stunned, "What? You're saying, you're saying I'm capable of doing it myself?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I've saying." But from her tone, Prey got the feeling she was missing what he was saying here. Seems Lilly was still as blindly oblivious as she'd been on their very first day. He didn't like the intent way Lilly was looking at him, either.

'Kindly take the hint and get lost, and take your failed unicorn partner duo with you.'

"So..." Lilly began, "If it was you, in my place I mean Prey, you'd do it all yourself?"

What a stupid thing to ask. Was she even thinking before she spoke? 

"First, I'm not you. Second, if I was, who else would solve my problems for me if not me? Literally, who else is going to fix my mind for me? No one, that's who. You can have a thousand supportive people lining up to help you every single day, but unless you want to live, there's nothing they can do to fix you. Literally nothing."

Not technically true. Prey was a mind leech. He was well versed in how easy it would be to 'fix' Lilly's mind if he wanted to, all for the light cost of the sanctity of her mind and free will.

Lilly's face, behind  the meldwood roots disfiguring it, went blank as if she was experiencing an epiphany, "Yeah... Yeah. Yeah I can do it myself. Yeah! I mean, you're just a little foal, aren't you right?"

Prey and Saffron both gave Lilly a look, him out of flat disbelief and her out of concern.

"I'm assuming you're not seriously asking me that question when I'm standing right in front of you."

Lilly waved his words away, getting more excited, "You're just a foal, and yet you did Mayflower and fought the warlock just fine. If a foal can do it, then so can I!"

Saffron looked rapidly back and forth between Prey and Lilly in alarm, heavy gold curls bouncing, '-warlock? A warlock?-'

Lilly was still going on excitedly, oblivious to Saffron's very justifiable concern; "I mean, buck it, Prey. You've got it all sorted out, you didn't break, you're still standing there what with a girly ribbon and everything ready to take on the world again. You're a foal and you managed all that, so I can definitely copy you. Yeah, I can do this, I can totally do this!"

Saffron looked like she was making an effort to put aside the 'warlock' word for now in favour of weakly smiling at what she was hearing; '-seems all she needed was some encouragement from Prey, just like I once did. Oh I do hope this motivation sticks with her and she doesn't slip back-'

'Seriously? That's all it took? No way, she's definitely going to relapse before the end of the day.' Prey thought, rather uncomfortable and nonplussed by Lilly's strange bout of fixation on his words. He decided to try moving this unfortunate meeting on his doorstep along:

"I'm glad to hear you're suddenly so... 'certain'. Really. However I need to leave in a minute, so if you could just-"

Lilly interrupted him, not seeming to have heard, "Do you think I should try starting back up as a Guard? I mean, I'm gonna' have to return at some point, I'm not letting anypony tell me I can't, because that's what you and Crimson would do. And you're all bat ponies in the Night Guard anyways, they won't care if they've got another freak working with them like me."

Lilly's tried for a smile at the forced self-depreciating humour around the root growing out of her face. The smile attempted to be brave, but was still uncertain and bitter around the edges. Saffron winced when Lilly said 'freak', but Lilly mumbled a quick apology and hurriedly went on:

"But should I, like, restart straight away? Or wait? Captain Nighthawk said he'd definitely have a place for me in the Night Guard if I wanted to re-join. Should I Prey?" Lilly asked, shuffling a step closer. Prey stepped back to maintain the same safe distance.

Prey let the annoyance go, or tried to, "You obviously haven't heard then. Nighthawk is out of Canterlot until the end of next week probably. So you're going to need to wait until he gets back." He informed them both.

"Aw, okay. If you think I should wait then I probably should. Plus I might need to, er, get back into shape. If I can."

"Good idea." Prey said neutrally. 

"And, uh, maybe you could give me some pointers about being a good Guard? Not fighting stuff, because, because...Yeah." Lilly grimaced at her meld wood leg, where it stood hidden beneath her coat sleeve, "But like other important stuff instead, like all that tracking stuff you knew and how to react to threats. If I knew how to do that stuff-"

And Prey's patience for this had officially run out. 

"Alright, ten minutes are up. I've got to go and get ready before I leave, so have a goodnight and all that. I'm already going to be a bit late as it is." Prey lied, making a shooing motion with his hoof and going to close the door.

Lilly jerked, blinking as she returned from her imagination to reality, "Ah, wait. What about Crimson? Where's he? I haven't seen him yet." She asked, peering over Prey's head and up the short corridor.

"You know where Captain Nighthawk went? Well, Crimson and Gloom have both gone along with him." Prey said as he turned to go back to his flat.

"No? Where has the Captain gone?"

"Sorry, can't tell you. Restricted information. You'll just have to wait until they all return." Prey called back.

'-wait, if they went but Prey stayed-Aha! Must be back to their thestral clan-'

"Got it. My lips are sealed, don't worry Prey." Lilly called after him, so much more upbeat than she had been when she arrived.

Prey didn't bother to respond. As he pushed open his flat door he heard Lilly thanking Saffron for bringing her; "Really, thanks. Getting up the stairs... gotta' get down them too I guess. Thanks for coming with me."

"Oh it was nothing." He heard Saffron warmly brushed off.

"Yeah, no. I've seen the schedule your manager guy has you on. It wasn't nothing."

"Thank you, but a few hours really isn't much. I'm truly glad just to help. What are friends for after all?"

Prey firmly shut the flat door behind him and leaned against it, letting out the loud sigh of frustration he'd been holding. He hadn't bothered shutting the front door on Saffron and Lilly, he'd be back out shortly, once they'd both left, he'd just give them a few minutes to get out of the apartment building first. 

'Seriously. They'd better not still be on the doorstep when I go back out, or else.'


------


They weren't, which was fortunate for them, and Prey managed to get out of the apartment block and through the darkening streets to the Palace without having to catch sight of hide nor hair of the pair. Street by street, the lamps lit up, brightly lighting the way for the hurrying ponies still going about. 

Prey paused at the entrance to the Guard Compound, and craned his head back to look up at the Palace.

It rose tier above golden tier. He vaguely wondered again how many millions of bits had gone into the massive, grandeous architecture? How many tonnes of gold, metal, rare woods, gems, resources, and just pure time had been wasted on this seat of pride for Celestia? And how much again had been wasted on Canterlot itself? Just as one example, there was a fountain in the Palace Gardens with a mural laid under the spouting crystal clear water of Celestia's phoenix, the same one which had been briefly stolen, made out of rubies.

It was not a small mural either, and while Prey now knew much more about gemstones and knew there was no way those rubies were ignius ones, he also now knew the going rate of a small, twelve karat ruby had a going rate of forty-five, to fifty bits. At a rough guess, that fountain in the Gardens, only one of many such fountains, was probably made up of six-hundred such rubies.

Maybe rubies cost less back when the fountain was made, easily at least few centuries ago, but even so? And the fountain was just one such example of what he was talking about.

Prey put away all of that pointless consideration and disgust at pony wastage, and walked through the gate. He had to clock on for his shift. He was still getting disbelieving stares from the Guards on duty at the gate every single time, and although they'd obviously heard of a sheep in the Night Guard by this point, Prey didn't suppose their incredulity would ever fade.

'-those bat-buckers had to resort to hiring foals. How can they call themselves Guards?-'

Or, and this was just a wild possibility, maybe their disbelief had some basis on that he was a runt lamb, and wearing a blue ribbon.

'Well Zoma'Grika to them, and a goodnight too.'

Prey passed inside, and progressed through the Night Guard section, and when he reached the ISND office, he climbed up onto the stool and sat himself down. He took a moment to shift through the piles of paper, and made sure, yes, nothing was missing and everything was exactly where he'd left it. Although he did wish, for probably the hundredth time, that the room had a decent light source. He resigned himself to another long silent night slaving away over paperwork while straining his eyes.

Somehow, Prey also doubted he'd be benefiting from the one day off a week the ISND were supposed to get this week, not with the large number of the Night Guard command currently being absent.

However Prey had barely unstoppered the inkwell and spread out the first triplicate form of the night, when he was interrupted. 

The door creaked ominously open, and the fizzy orange maned head of the liaison's officer, trapped ineffectually under her peaked cap, poked in.

"Hey'a Prey. How're ya doing?" Taffy chirped.

Prey stopped stretching over the desk to reach the quill, leaving it where it was, "Taffy. Hello."

Taffy Hopes pushed the door fully open and jauntily sauntered in, "I know, it's great to see me. I'm about to clock off, but I thought I'd take five minutes to come say hi to my favourite lamb in the whole Night Guard. Since, you know, gloomy Gloom and Crimson are off galivanting."

Prey dredged up a small, polite smile, "That's very kind of you, ma'am."

Meanwhile he was internally yelling; 'Wasn't Saffron and Lilly enough of an annoyance? Why've I got to deal with Taffy too tonight?'

Life really wasn't fair.

"It's no trouble Prey. I'm sure they'll be back in a jiffy. Probably the end of this week. Too bad, Griffon Stone has some great views and hikes for tourists. I went there backpacking once, you know? Before I signed up, of course. Hey, why're they all going to Griffonia anyways?" Taffy inquired brightly.

That was right. Taffy had been the one to sort out all of the fake paperwork on last minute notice, so of course she knew their destination. Just not their mission was in Griffonia or for how long it was intended to take.

Prey shrugged, "Captain Nighthawk's got an undercover mission there."

"Yeah, duh, but why?" Taffy asked, tilting her head in confusion. Her peaked cap slowly began to slip.

"Not too sure, it's supposed to be restricted information. But I'm fairly sure they're finally going to track down the ponies who were secretly shipping out salt to that griffon Garrow, remember him?" Prey lied, since it was indeed supposed to be restricted information.

"Ah, right, yeah, that." Taffy hid a wince, quickly catching her hat.

'-that murderer, and poor Prey had to commit self defence. What a horrible mess that was-'

"You deserve some toffee Prey. You want some toffee?" Taffy asked with badly concealed guilt, horn lighting up and the clasp of her saddlebag lighting up in a corresponding sparkly orange aura.

"Why?" Prey asked.

"No reason," Taffy said quickly, "You just look like you deserve some toffee. Everypony deserves some toffee. I've got choc-chip or minty marigold. Here, have a piece."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm fine." Prey pulled back as Taffy levitated out a bulging paper bag and opened it, revealing thick, sticky squares of sugary goodness.

While Prey would definitely have liked some toffee, he'd only accept toffee he'd checked for poison first.

"Aw come on, it's fine."

"Really, there's no need."

"C'mon you know you want it." Taffy blithely floated the toffee bag closer, Prey sharply drawing back from the magical aura, "Give into peer pressure. All the cool kids are doing it."

"I said it's fine. Speaking of which, when are you finally going to come collect those boxes you dumped in here?" Prey quickly tried to change the subject.

Taffy turned to look at the indicated pile of file filled boxes, successfully distracted, "Oh. Yeah. Right. Those. Oops. I kind of forgot I stashed those in here."

"I figured as much. So when are you going to collect them?"

"Don't worry. I'll find somepony to do it tomorrow when I get back in. Thanks for looking after my files though. They get lonely. You haven't disturbed them from their dusty rest of their cardboard coffins, have you now Prey?" Taffy joked.

"Nope. Why'd you stash them all in here anyway?" Prey asked off-hoofedly.

"We've got a new filing system. Those Royal Inspectors came in and made a bunch of changes, so now everypony's got to follow the new filing system. It's a pain in the-" Taffy paused mid pout, looking at Prey, "-In the, uh, the rump."

"Well, if you could send some people around tomorrow to pick them up, that would be great. Thanks for coming by, but I've wasted enough of your time already and it's late." 

"No problem at all Prey." Taffy grinned, absentmindedly floating the toffee bag away without even noticing, "Hey, I'm just checking, but you and the guys are still up for coming to the Nightmare Night party, right?"

"That's still a bit of a ways away, but yes, I believe so. It sounds like it should be great." Prey answered.

'A great waste of my time, that is.'

"Great! I'll try and catch you again tomorrow Prey. And I'll send somepony by to fetch those files. Have a nice night Prey." Taffy waved goodbye, trotting out the door just as jauntily as when she'd walked in.

'And good riddance.' Prey thought, stretching for the quill again. He thought about Gloom and Crimson. The two Night Guard squads should be arriving in Griffin Stone some time later tonight by his reckoning. He wondered how they were doing, and what might've already gone wrong before the train even pulled into the station.

Prey unhappily bet that at least three separate things would've gone wrong by now.


------


Prey yawned hugely, unable to help himself. He paused in the corridor on the way to the mess hall and vigorously rubbed his droopy ears and his face.

There was no reason to be this tired, he'd only been doing paperwork. And it wasn't even like he'd been awake for twenty-four hours in a row. It was just that he'd been working in the office alone. He was used to working alone, but now somehow the long silent hours of the night, with only lamp light and the scratching of the quill for company, felt like they'd been longer.

He just needed to readjust back to this, and he'd be fine. That said, his hoof was still sore from all the writing he'd done, and his neck hurt from hunching over the desk.

Whatever. It wasn't whip scar cramp, so he'd take it. That, and lunch, or in other words, what the mess hall was serving for breakfast, he'd take that too. He should be able to avoid most of the other Night Guards if he got there early enough.

Prey rolled his sore neck and groaned at the thought of having to pacify and play the little lamb for Cookie, but needs must. He'd smile cheerily just the way she liked, pretend to be bubbly and chirpy, deflect her suspicious queries about the absence of Gloom and Crimson with a childish show of guilelessness, and leave her satisfied and ignorant. Just like he always did.

'If I ever need to kill a whole lot of Guards at once, it really would be too easy to slip poison into whatever she's cooking on the day. No one would even notice the difference in taste until it was too late.' Prey idly thought, picking up his pace towards the mess hall, so as to be one of the first in for breakfast, and thus, one of the first out too.

Except over half the Guard knew better than to eat in the mess hall by now, so all of those would escape his attempt unscathed. Still, it was an idea...

No one ever really takes the threat of mass poisoning seriously, not until the first time it happens.


---


And that, after five more hours filling out paperwork and filing, was that for Prey's working day. Tedious, boring, and lonely by the standards of almost anyone. But once Prey's work shift was over, then came his real work shift and the start of his real day.


---


When someone commits a crime, how do they do it? 

Logically, they do so secretly, covertly, and while trying not to be spotted. Why? Because they're afraid of the consequences of being caught, or ashamed of their weakness, or because of the guilt. They're scared of how others will view them if they're correctly associated with their crime.

As an over simplicity, they're motivated by guilt and fear. 

The reason a person might've felt forced or sometimes even justified in committing a crime vary widely, but the guilt is the end consequence no matter what, except in the rare circumstance where the criminal genuinely doesn't care. Like the brazen, the insane, a sociopath, a psychopath, or just a child.

Children do not know better, and have to be taught. A child does not know they mustn't pull the dogs tail to make it yelp. Until a child knows doing something is wrong, they will cheerfully do it without an once of guilt. Like the foal who dug up their mothers prized tulips and proudly shows the mushed up flower bed to their parents. Only after the shouting, the scolding, and the disappointed anger does the child know any guilt.

It had been a long time since Prey was a child, and he knew beyond a doubt what he was doing was wrong. But guilt wasn't enough to stop him. He and guilt were well acquainted. Guilt had squatted on his shoulders and in his spiked heart for decades like an unwanted guest. Prey was used to the weight of his guilt and knew how to carry it.

So while he completely understood the crime he was committing was wrong, and doing it still caused him to feel guilt, it was no where near enough to stop him.

And also contrary to the usual caution with which someone committing a crime, and would sneak around with after dark, that wasn't what Prey had done. 

With Lemon Pink in tow, he'd gone right in through the back entrance of Canterlot's morgue, the pre-prepared basic runic array on the door unlocking it without a fuss, and walked in out of the warm evening sun. They'd brought a cart, one of the simple one pony carts you could hire for a week. It was currently parked out the back, drawn up as neat as you please.

Why commit a crime at night? That's when everybody was stereotypically expecting you to commit a crime after all, so wouldn't they be more on guard? Well, the obvious reason was that night held the advantage of the cover of darkness, and there were far less witnesses awake at that hour. 

However if you had the ability to get away with anything, say, such as mind magic, then doing so during day light hours when you could see and move freely and were less likely to be suspected was much more preferable. 

So leaving the small cart outside, Prey and Lemon had walked right in through the back door, having visited and looked around the city morgue the previous night. From the outside, the single story building was sombre, and seen from the inside it wasn't much different, which was fitting and how it should be. 

Grey walls, white tile floors, and subdued internal architecture. Rather out of characteristic for ponies overall, but then, they did despise the idea of death as vividly as they adored the concept of harmony.

So far, Prey had found basically every single pony he'd had the misfortune of encountering over these last five months misunderstood the word 'harmony'. They thought it meant balance. Except, they all forgot what the word 'balance' really meant. 

This misconception, in essence, could be boiled down to how ponies loved the idea of nature, but conveniently forgot that nature was cruel. They adored the nest of cute little baby rabbits, but forgot that the fox would be eating well tonight. No, their version of Harmony wasn't balance, it was control. Every time one of the self righteous bigots said 'Harmony', you could substitute it for the word 'Order'.

Prey had heard it all before, ponies brought it up in everyday conversation. Laughter, kindness, generosity, loyalty, honesty, and of course, magic. Always magic. Why, it practically belonged to unicorns, a full third of the pony race, so of course magic was theirs because they so deserved to have the gods given right to magic. How could anypony forget about magic?

It was all bigoted and racially superior prejudice. And anyway, 'Magic'? That wasn't even a virtue. It was a physical energy, not a positive concept. Laughter could half be argued not to be a virtue either, actually.

But all of that was neither here nor there for Prey's mission in venturing into the city morgue. The back entrance was a storage room. One full of boxes, old brooms and mops, rolled up canvas banners, paint tins, spare wagon wheels, and yes, rows and rows of neatly stacked empty coffins, silently waiting for their single turn use in life to come around.

As Prey had discovered, the morgue also doubled as the place where you went to buy coffins and caskets.

'What's that old riddle? 'The person who made it doesn't want it, the person who bought it doesn't use it, and the person who needs it doesn't know it'.'

Prey and Lemon walked swiftly through the back room and rows of empty caskets, already knowing exactly where they were heading, pushing open the swinging door into the empty corridor which lead down to the freezer bay. The front entrance of Canterlot's morgue may have been ostentatious, if solemn, but that was only due to the front being where the reception was, and was the face grieving members of the public saw. But inside the morgue, the corridor could've been almost any corridor in any office building.

Thirty seconds since they'd entered the building, and the pair of them came to a set of sealed doors with the sign 'Fridge Bay 1' above them.

Lemon telekinetically pulled open the thick door to their destination and also Prey's morbid goal. Cold, dry air washed into Prey's face. 

There were two workers inside the long room, both wearing warm coats. They both automatically turned to see who had walked in. 

"Don't mind us. We're just here browsing for a fridge ornament today." Prey quickly enunciated loudly and clearly.

The two workers clearly saw the intruders into their freezer bay and... did nothing. A mare and a stallion, both unicorns, since this wasn't the type of job you wanted to do with hooves if you could do it with magic instead.

Their eyes glazed, not acknowledging Prey and Lemon Pink's existence at all. After a moment, both unicorns jerkily turned back to their task as if the last five seconds hadn't registered in their consciousness at all. Which was exactly what had, or rather hadn't, happened. Prey had left behind a mental compulsion and trigger phrase in both workers minds when he and Lemon had broken in yesterday. 

The stallion was called Loadstone and the mare Nova Shower, not that their names were important. They were just two unfortunate workers who were in the wrong place at the wrong time yesterday. Neither of them were going to remember this, so it could be argued they weren't even victims really, except for the unchangeable fact that they were. 

Prey didn't try to tiptoe around the truth of it. They were victims. Here and now, the two ponies were getting used by him simply because they were convenient. 

Nova Shower was a quiet mare, satisfied but not happy about her station in life, with a cutie mark of a fading outline of a star, and was still broken up by the doctors diagnoses four years ago that she could probably never have foals. 

As for Loadstone, Prey had convinced the stallion to kindly cover for one of his colleagues instead of taking today off. Loadstone wasn't particularly happy with his lot in life either, but had been taught not to complain by his dad. His cutie mark was a tombstone wrapped around with a rose, which he preferred to keep covered in polite company for all the obvious reasons. 

It took a certain kind of individual for a pony to want to work in a morgue, Prey supposed.

Lemon let the door swing shut and seal behind them, leaving them in the cold dry air of the freezer bay. The long room was taken up by racks of cold metal hatches. Each hatch had a slot in the front for a slip card. Some had a hoof written slip inserted, and some were empty, just like the tray behind those hatches.

One of those hatches was currently open, and the long metal tray pulled out. That's what the two workers were doing at that moment, carefully removing the sheet covered figure. Cold air, quite a bit colder than the room temperature, wafted from the open hatch as Prey and Lemon wandered over. Prey had learned in passing yesterday that it was a combination of the cold and also passive preservative enchantments which kept the bodies fresh until such time as it was to bury or cremate them.

He stepped up to peer closer as Loadstone folded back the sheet with a practiced flick of his aura. The stallion wasn't thinking much as he worked, just; '-Abacas still needs to get some replacement body sheets, like I keep reminding him to-'

An old, green furred unicorn mare lay under the body sheet. Her eyes had been closed and her bony forehooves crossed on her chest. It was obvious from the wrinkles and thin mane that age had been the deciding factor here. Prey felt nothing looking at the corpse. She was just a future component in his plans. Her name had been Constellation, ninety-two years old, husband already deceased, with only distant living relatives. Perfect for Prey's purposes in other words. The body was only going to go to waste if it was cremated anyways.

"Ready Load?" Nova Shower asked Loadstone, completely oblivious to how Lemon Pink was standing there literally looking over her shoulder. 

"Yup. Three, two, one." Together, both unicorns levitated up the old pony off the tray on a flat plane of magic, a fair bit trickier than normal telekinesis Prey was lead to believe, but it kept the dead mare's body respectfully undisturbed. From there, they lowered her into a pre-selected woven willow casket on the cart. Just like Nova, Loadstone too was completely unawares of his audience.

Once they were done here though, Prey was still going to make damned sure both morgue workers memories were properly edited. This compulsion to ignore him and Lemon? It was a very complicated bit of mind magic that would rapidly fade if not kept fresh, with no lingering side effects. And while 'rapidly' should mean a week or even possibly two, Prey wasn't the sort to take chances. 

However, if the effects unexpectedly somehow wore off right now? Well, Prey hadn't just brought along Lemon to pull the cart. As he well knew, the best way to counter a unicorn was to bring your own unicorn, and/or take them by surprise.

Loadstone scribbled something on a clip board with his magic, while Nova swung closed the metal hatch and slipped the tag off it. Then she began to push the cart towards the door, her magic reaching out ahead of her to open said door. Loadstone followed with the clipboard, and behind him, Lemon and Prey came along.

From the visit yesterday, Prey knew the incinerator was to the left out of the door. Nova hesitated, then jerkily turned and went right.

Two minutes later, Loadstone and Nova trotted back past Freezer Bay 1 and down to the incinerator room. Once there, a closed and empty willow casket was solemnly rolled into the magical incinerator, and the heavy kiln door shut. Loadstone and Nova both signed a paper stating the time and date, and then Loadstone turned a dial on the kiln's side and pushed the button. Magically charged crystals lit up inside the kiln, and a dull orange glow began to spill around the edges of the kiln door.

The two unicorn workers stood and watched, quietly discussing work as they watched. Boring, office talk, and while there was no one else there by their perspective, but they kept their voices hushed and respectful:

"How many holidays you got left?"
"Five this year. I'm saving them for Hearthswarming."
"It was kind of you to fill in for Elphy today."
"She always fills her quota, it was nothing."
"What was the crystal charge level when last you did the checks?"
"Still thirty, I think. That was yesterday, so probably twenty-seven? Yep, twenty-seven."

In short, Prey sensed nothing off about their actions. They were completely oblivious to their own actions a few minutes ago where they'd stood like blank statues as Lemon loaded the corpse of Constellation onto the cart, covering her with a sheet and adding a few boxes to break up the body's outline. Still, it always paid to make sure.

He looked to Lemon, "Alright, we're basically done here. We'll be back tomorrow for another corpse. Just check their memories. Him or her?"

"I will review Nova's memories, Prey."

That left Prey with Loadstone. Not wanting to waste any time, he stepped up to the stallion's side and laid a hoof against his fetlock, where it emerged from under the coat sleeve.

A quick trawl through Loadstone's memories since yesterday, while trying to be as gentle with his mental touch as possible, revealed nothing worrying to Prey. Since he wasn't reviewing a long period of time, less than twenty-four hours worth, (and even less when taking into account the time spent asleep), it only took Prey thirty or so seconds. Doing things was so much faster at the speed of thought, and Prey had already seen both Loadstone's and Nova Shower's memories yesterday.

Not that Prey had dug around or gone looking deeply, he knew his mental touch in particular was damaging, but you still couldn't help getting flashes of irrelevant details which he didn't care about.

A pet dog called Yappy who ran away. A never-sent card on Hearts and Hooves day. A square of uneven carpet back home that Loadstone always tripped on. All of them were irrelevant details which made up part of someone's life but that out of context meant very little to Prey.

Prey opened his eyes, and was back in the cremation room. He rolled his tongue around his mouth and looked up at Lemon, "Nothing amiss?" He checked.

"Nothing, Prey. I am ready to leave whenever you are." She answered, the faint red glow of her own mind magic dissipating off her horn like tendrils of mist.

"Then there's nothing further to stay for. We'll leave immediately."

Prey didn't focus on how he was stealing a body to perform a type of necromancy with. In the Deeper Green, he'd retrieved body parts on Snake's orders before. Sometimes, those people hadn't even been dead yet. Doing it this way was much better. There had been no violence involved, only old age, and no one would know. It was a hundred times better this way.

But he was still stealing dead bodies, and that was so much worse than it sounded. That cost you something, even if you didn't know you were paying it at the time, until one day you looked back and found out what the price had been. Like looking in the Lich's Mirror had done. 

Everything has a price. Now or later, steep or cheap, sooner or later, you had to pay it.


------


There was a brisk knock at the door to the ISND's office. Prey turned from pulling a file off one of the lower shelves they'd installed, (he needed to use the stool to reach the higher ones), and sent the door a scowl. 

'I really do hope that isn't Taffy coming by again.' Although the liaison's officer really should be home by this time of night...

"Yes? Who is it?"

The door opened, "Me." Screech said, stepping into the dim office. He, like the rest of the Night guard, were still having to go clad in the simply recoloured Royal Guard armour as opposed to what Gloom and Crimson had. Or had had before they left.

Screech's normal armour was still, of course, perfectly maintained, (Screech being a proud thestral warrior after all), but it wasn't buffed into blinding shininess in the lamp light.

"Lieutenant Screech." Prey acknowledged with a show of politeness.

Screech glanced over the otherwise empty office, assessing everything with a practiced eye, and paused for a long few seconds in thought.

'-after everything, perhaps it's not best to leave Prey all alone. It feels too much like a punishment-'

The acting Night Guard commander looked Prey in the eye, which was rather more of an abrupt shift from mere concerned politeness to invasive concern than Prey would've liked. They'd barely even said a word yet. "Do you prefer working alone Prey, or would you like to work with somepony else until everypony else returns?"

"Thank you sir, but I don't want to be a bother."

"It won't be a problem. You're skilled and capable enough to work well with any Guard."

"In that case, no thank you. I'd prefer to continue working solo."

Screech nodded his helmeted head brusquely. He'd asked, and now he had his answer, so it was time to move on, "Alright for now. I didn't drop in for that, though. Simply for this; The first communication has come back from Captain Nighthawk."

Prey immedidetly perked up in interest, "Yes?"

"Both teams have arrived in Griffinstone and found quiet lodging. They've hired local guides for each squad, one a griffin, and the others a pony. They aim to investigate the address our two prisoners were sending their spy reports to. The other team will be circumspectly looking into the embassy and searching around for anypony who might know Hafflow. That's all so far, but you've a right to know." Screech said.

"Thank you for taking the time to let me know, sir." Prey thought it best to politely thank him.

"I was simply passing the office." Screech shrugged his folded wings slightly.

"Before you go, can I ask how the communication came though?" Prey asked, half glancing towards the desk. 

On the desk, amid the other files and paperwork, stood a corked green glass bottle, a single sourceless flame flickering inside. A message-in-a-bottle spell. Nighthawk and the others had taken a number of these very expensive communication methods with them, but that particular bottle was twined with the one Crimson carried. It would only be used if there was an emergency on Gloom and Crimson's end. 

Naturally, Prey was hoping he wouldn't be getting a message from that green bottle at all.

Obviously, however the communication had come, it hadn't been through the post. First, that would leave a trail, and second, a first class letter from Griffonia would still take about two days to get here.

Screech's lips quirked up, not a full smile, but close, "I learned of this through Her Majesty. Princess Luna watches over her Night Guard when they sleep. The mission they're undertaking is one of great importance, one which might have consequences on Equestia's future with Griffonia. She has had them report to her through the dream realm."

What would've happened if Luna had bothered to do the same when they were in Mayflower when they most needed help? 
Prey had held an unconfirmed suspicion since then, one which he hadn't had a good way to ask anyone in the know about. Now he grabbed the excuse with both hooves. 

He blinked and tilted his had in a show of mild surprise, "Oh, Princess Luna protects the dreams of griffins against nightmares too? I didn't know that."

What Prey was really searching for was the answer to Luna's range. Did she have a range at all, or could she reach out to any person anywhere in the world at any time?

"She doesn't, no. The griffins are not citizens of Equestria. If they were then of course Her Majesty would extend her protection, but she will not offer it where it wouldn't be appreciated." Screech answered.

'-not that I can see Griffonia ever joining our borders, but if anypony will live to see it, it'll be Princess Luna-'

Prey blinked again in real surprise, and not least a little fear. Did Luna have the ambition to rule the lands of Griffonia too? He had thought, what with everything he knew of ponies and Celestia's rule over an entire millennia, that Luna wouldn't care to rule a non-pony race. Prey well knew how most ponies privately viewed griffins as something of a heathen and barbaric people for not being herbivores nor having magic, immortal rulers, or cutie marks.

But was that Luna's goal? To conquer Griffonia? Prey knew of no Equestrian army fit for conquest, but maybe that's not how Luna meant to take over?

'But then, she's an alicorn. She can scheme for hundreds of years in the future. Maybe she's even now laying the groundwork for a gradual build up and change of attitude towards the griffins in future pony generations.' Prey thought in disgust.

Prey decided it wasn't actually important, though. If that was the case, it would be hundreds of years in the future, and had no impact on Prey's own situation. All that really mattered to Prey right now was trying to get answer out of Screech about Luna's reach.

"But could Her Majesty do that? For all the griffins all the way over in Griffonia? Sir." Prey added.

Screech paused, one tufted ear cocking, '-could she?-'

"I can't answer for Her Majesty, but I don't see why she couldn't. I've heard Princess Luna say the dream realm is not a physical place with physical limits, but something else, and she has been the Lady of the Night and Watcher of Dreams long before either of us. So yes, I think she could." Screech said.

'Well zoma'Grika, isn't that just wonderful.' That was not the answer Prey had been hoping for, even if he'd all but known it would be the one he'd get.

'So just running far, far away won't be enough when I finally figure out how to get these damned tracer bands off. I need to find some method of blocking an alicorn's dream reach.' Another impossible sounding task, but one Prey would have to somehow find a way to accomplish, along with everything else on his plate.

"Well thank you for coming by and letting me know sir. I appreciate it." Prey smiled on the outside.

"I'll leave you to it. If you change your mind about sharing an office, let me or one of the others officers know and we'll put you in with somepony." Screech said, bidding Prey farewell.

Prey watched until the thestral's tail, noticeably a fair bit longer than an average Canterlot citizen would wear, but also more ragged than average too, had disappeared out the door. Only once he'd given Screech long enough to get out of ear shot did Prey grown and let his forehead *thunk* against the bookshelf.

'So I finally got my answer. And it's the exact one I feared it would be.' Well there was nothing else to do but continue on, and figure out a way later to work around it.

Prey repeated the old mantra and promise to himself for the hundredth time, 'I won't be a prisoner here forever. One day I'll be free of your leash, Luna.'


------


Improving his existing runic defences. 

Adding on and building more of them down in the Sewer's Heart. 

Keeping an eye on the wickerwatch. 

Starting a full magic null zone down in his lair.

Continuing to try and find a way around the golden tracer bands on his ankles. 

Sending Lemon Pink to dig through the Canterlot Royal library to search for any mention of alicorn specific magic, even if he didn't hold out any hope. 

Trying to fit in time to go visit the wonderful deposit of books and knowledge for himself.

Having Lemon keep an eye on the underground market for anything useful which might come up. 

Slowly keeping the items and goals on The List ticking away to completion some time in the distant future. And some of them which were startlingly close and not so distant anymore. Prey would need to go on a little trip soon.

There was also keeping up his work in the Night Guard to the required standard. 

Keeping everyone he interacted with happy and ignorant was important, as well as keeping a watchful eye out for that annoyance, Strange Happenstance, who'd been suspiciously quiet and absent recently.

And also, under the workload of all this, Prey was performing the same dark work and experiments which gave him the reason to hide. He kept to the edges of it, because he well knew the reputation of fear and hate for these things was completely deserved:

Black magic. Blood magic. Voodoo magic. Dark magic. Necromancy. They were not things you did lightly. 

Prey was very careful, and did all his related work within secured runic arrays, but every practitioner before Prey had no doubt thought they were being careful too. Were his precautions enough? Only time would tell.

Prey considered himself better than Hard Baked, since he wasn't murdering people purely for black magic components, but in the past... No, Prey couldn't claim innocence. And he also knew that his planned work was going to be so much more than the warlock's had been. And therefore, his crime was worse.

The point of all this was, Prey was busy. Many things demanded an allotment of his precious time. 

Busy busy busy, always there was something to be busy with.


------


Unfortunately, much like his Night Guard shifts, Prey's precious time was also taken up by unwanted commitments which other's forced upon him.

In this instance, that meant attending his therapy sessions with Clear Mind until the doctor was satisfied, and signed him off as 'safe and stable'. 

Well, Prey could've 'convinced' the irritating unicorn at any time with some judicious use of mind magic, however he unfortunately still needed the result to look natural to Clear Mind's colleagues, which meant attending a reasonable number of the sessions before he let himself be 'cured'.

Prey had firmly decided though that this would be the last session. No more questions asked. Everything about the eager, confident, and self assured doctor irritated Prey, not least of which was that the doctor didn't see him as a person. Just a patient, and one whom Clear Mind thought he knew more about than Prey himself did, simply because the doctor had gone to 'university', and had a 'diploma'. Clear Mind thought since he'd learnt all about how people think, that he somehow knew better than those people themselves. Not in a malicious way, but still in an incredibly condescending way.

Prey was sitting on a beanbag in Clear Mind's office. The doctor himself was sitting on one opposite. 

Bright afternoon sun was filtering in through the blinds on the offices wall length windows. The good doctor had offered Prey a cookie at the start of the session. The sheer audacity of that was something else, and Prey'd had to reign himself in and remind himself Clear Mind was only following the script as if he really were a child.

'I really shan't regret washing my hooves of him after today for good.'

Like the other sessions previously, Clear Mind was trying to get him to be positive and open up, while Prey pretended to listen, or when he really couldn't be bothered, just flat out lied. Clear Mind wasn't completely stupid, and knew something was off, but he just assumed that was part of why Prey was in these sessions.

After that one time where Prey had really told Clear Mind what had happened in Mayflower and even given the doctor a piece of the experience and had to wipe his memories afterwards, this seemed rather tame and underwhelming in comparison. 

Prey was still angry at himself for being so careless as to have done that. 

The telling bit, not the mind wiping bit to cover up afterwards. 

Because it had turned out Strange Happenstance had been hiding out in the reception that very day.

'I need to make a final decision about what to do with that private detective.' Prey made a note to himself, giving Clear Mind a distracted answer out loud. The problem was, Prey still didn't know for certain if Strange Happenstance was a mimic, or working for the person who knew about mimics.

"I'm glad you can agree Prey. If your guardian can take you out of school for a week and take you on a vacation, it would be a great benefit to you all. Won't that be great? You get to skip school and go on a holiday." Clear Mind announced, smiling confidently.

Prey blinked, and refocused on the last minute of the one sided conversation he'd been upholding. 

"Holiday?"

"Yes, a nice holiday."

Prey looked at the still happily smiling unicorn, "Holiday where?"

"Oh, anywhere away from town in a low pressure environment will work. But it's important to get away for a time, to finish up this chapter of your life. So that way, when you come back, you can start a brand new chapter and put all of this behind you."

'-did I use too many big words there? Never mind, Prey's a smart foal, I'm sure he's got the general idea-', Clear Mind thought to himself.

Prey refrained from massaging his face. Who knew those poison burn scars hurt when in the presence of stupid? Or maybe it was from keeping his face locked into a smiling, childish mask. Whatever the reason, he'd had enough of Clear Mind. There was still a quarter of an hour left in todays session, but enough was enough.

Prey hummed thoughtfully before turning it into a question, "Mmm'octor Clear Mind?"

"Yes?" Clear Mind smiled, leaning forwards in a show of earnestness.

"There's just, well, there's just this one tiny worry I've got." Prey looked at the floor.

The doctor made an encouraging noise, "Go on, you can say whatever it is. These sessions are for your benefit."

"Nmph want mph." Prey mumbled to the floor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch all of that." Clear Mind leaned in even closer.

"Not mph a nmph." 

"Sorry, one more time for me please?" 

Prey reached a hoof up. He didn't lunge or move quickly, he reached up as if he were merely going to brush something off Clear Mind's face. The action was so normal, so completely innocent that Clear Mind didn't even properly register the movement as Prey touched him on the jaw.

Even if the unicorn had been an exceptionally powerful mind mage, (which Prey already knew Clear Mind wasn't after having already done this once), that moment of being caught off guard followed by another moment of disorientation would've certainly lost him the mental fight anyway.

A touch was all it took. Prey was ready. He slammed into Clear Mind's mindscape like a wave, overflowing in a rush.

Ashen grey land, burnt out tree husks, a soot filled purple sky.

Back when Lemon Pink was masquerading around as Night Watcher, Prey had been unable to beat the cultist within her own mindscape. He'd actually been beaten back and driven out. But then she'd made the mistake of growing over confident and pursuing him back into his. 

Prey's mindscape was not one layer as was usual for a mindscape, it was two, or maybe three, but the third was only really a theoretical subconscious understanding of 'self'. But the point was, Prey's mind was not a safe place to be, and it had little to do with the traumatising memories he buried there under the ash.

The plane of the mindscape weren't anything physical or real, and as much of it was the individuals own personal interpretation as anything concrete. It was an illusion, the mind conjuring up something you could understand, very much like how dreams might pull random items from the previous day to make sense of. Unreal, in a word. Which didn't mean it couldn't still kill you.

And what all that meant was, Prey didn't let himself get overconfident. 

Last time he'd invaded Clear Mind's head, the doctor had first been weakened by holding the ribbon Prey had given him. Prey always preferred to only enter a mind once the victim was unconscious, since an unconscious mind couldn't defend itself and so was much safer and easier to invade. But Prey hadn't opted to go the route of tricking Clear Mind into holding onto his ribbon again. That had been... Distinctly unhealthy for the doctor's mind, and it would be a bit hard for Prey to explain why when he came out of his session the good doctor was brain dead. Or worse.

So that left straight up mind invasion, a head on clash, pitching his strength against Clear Mind's. Which was why Prey'd gone for a surprise attack despite all advantages he already held in mind magic. 

Fighting fair is a good way to die, and Prey wasn't going to completely rule out the low possibility that perhaps Clear Mind might somehow have a huge surge of mental willpower and instinctively repel the mind invasion if Prey went at it half-heartedly.

All that said however, the contest had never been in any doubt. 

Prey rushed into Clear Mind's head and grabbed control before the unicorn's mind could even begin to revolt, ignoring the doctor's mental screams. Back when Prey had faced Night Watcher, one of the reasons why he'd lost was because his own mind magic had been bound under an inhibitor collar. He'd had to trick her into forming and then coming across the mind bridge first.

'Right. Let's see about fixing your mind up. Today was my last session. You're happy with my progress. What do I need to do to get that signed off?'

Prey picked through the memories his drag net had trawled up from Clear Mind, searching out for the relevant ones pertaining to patient confidentiality and treatment policy. He asked, and Clear Mind offered up the full answer in excruciating detail. The doctor didn't have a choice in the matter.

Prey reviewed what he'd found, 'Let me check; today at five thirty before he leaves, he'll sign off my case, submit the bill to the Night Guard along with his completion report. Nighthawk will see it when he and everyone else gets back. Clear Mind will also find a way to casually mention in conversation to his colleagues at least three times how I am now finished.' 

That should about do it Prey decided, having reviewed how Clear Mind had worked with patients in the past.

Prey double checked his implanted compulsions and memory edits once, and then twice just to be certain although he was already sure, and disengaged back from Clear Mind's mindscape. Prey blinked dry eyes, back in the office with the light peaking through the white curtain blinds, and laying on the shifting surface of the beanbag.

It took a few seconds longer before the light came back on in Clear Mind's glazed eyes. The doctor drew in a deep breath, and then his hoof shot up to his horn and brow.

'-oooh my head, this headache suddenly got so much worse. Ow ow ow, seriously-'

"Is something the matter?" Prey asked innocently.

Clear Mind rubbed his head gingerly, blinking and trying to reorientate himself, "Ah, no Prey, it's ah, nothing."

'-I knew I should've taken a sick day when I woke up this morning. Argh, it crept up on me-'

"Oh, okay then." Prey smiled. Of course, he'd also added in a false memory to Clear Mind's head of having this headache all day. As far as the doctor knew, he'd woken up with the headache, but decided to simply take some pills and come in to work anyway hoping it'd get better. 

Prey knew to cover his tracks, and really, what better way than convince the victim that those tracks had been there all along?

'-by Celestia's holy mane, my head. I feel sick. Arhh, my head-', Clear Mind tried to stifle a groan on account of being in the presence of a patient.

Prey knew Clear Mind was going to be stuck with this headache for the next day or even two, and he pitilessly dismissed the doctor's coming miserable discomfort. It wasn't a case of the unicorn simply being sick or any other physical symptoms, medicine wouldn't help, it was literally his mind hurting. 

While Prey hadn't done anything permanently damaging, (hopefully), the mind was still a desperately fragile and delicate thing at times. Prey had brute forced his way into Clear Mind's head with his first crushing attack, which was a lot less subtle and smooth than operating when the victim was already unconscious. 

That, and as Prey well knew, even when trying to be, his mental touch was not as gentle as Lemon Pink's.

'-but I'm glad I did come in today. Prey's finally ready to graduate and he doesn't need our services anymore-'

Clear Mind tried for a smile, although Prey knew his skull must be pounding, "Thank you Prey for coming today. Really, thank you and congratulations. I believe in you, and remember, everypony else believes in you too. And what better way to celebrate than a holiday? And once you get back, you'll be ready to face the world."

'Still going on about that holiday angle?' Prey thought in annoyance.

"Thank you Mr. Clear Mind. And I'll definitely 'ask' about it."

Clear Mind forced aside his thumping headache for a minute so he could look Prey in the eye, trying to make sure his next words were remembered:

"You've earned it Prey. You've worked hard and I'm really proud that you've made it this far. Sometimes you need to stop and remember how special you are, don't forget that. And remember, all your friends will be there for you in the future. Not just today, or tomorrow, but next year, and the year after that. Remember, where you have Harmony and friendship, there is nothing you can't do Prey."

'Except bring back the dead. Or stop a charging hydra. Or turn back time. Or defeat an alicorn. Or escape her golden leash. Or any number of other things.' Prey thought with hidden snort of derision.

"...Thank you. I'll make sure to remember your kind words."

Clear Mind smiled, then winced, hoof going back up to his head, blinking rapidly and breathing shallowly, '-arrh buck, this headache. Never had one this bad before. Is this what a migraine is?-'

"I'm sure you'll do fine Prey, and I hope you have fun on your holiday, where ever you go. Relax and have fun." Clear Mind got out, although it was obvious to any observer that only half his attention was on his words.

Prey considered just point blank telling the therapist he wasn't going on any sort of damned holiday, not that it would do any good. 

'And seriously? How would I get away with that? No way Nighthawk would approve the request. And where would I even go on a holiday? I hate Canterlot, I hate pony lands, and I hate Equestria at large.'

Prey? On holiday? Now that was a laughable idea.

Now that was an idea... An idea.

'That's... an idea?' Prey paused.

'That's an idea. One which isn't completely baseless. It's an actual idea.'

Not the pony version of a holiday, where you took time off an did nothing productive. When would Prey have time for that when he needed to be making preparations and backups to help save his life at some future date? Prey was not lazy, and he didn't have time for that sort of holiday.

But Prey had been planning to eventually go out of town, so to speak, to take care of one of the items on The List which was finally coming to fruition. However he'd merely been planning to go on his one day off coming up at the end of this week, or failing that simply skipping on sleep and going after his shift at the Palace one day.

However there were other things on The List, important things which had been on there since the list's creation, which he could finally do if he had longer than a day's leave from Canterlot.

'If I had the time, and if I somehow did get permission for a holiday...'

Nighthawk wasn't here, Screech was in charge instead. Prey could probably convince the Lieutenant. He wasn't doing much active case work while Gloom and Crimson were undertaking their much more important mission in Griffonia. And while there was Prey's probation and restrictions to consider, Prey knew he could spin that and get Screech to see it the same way. Thestrals cared strongly about fairness and justice, and the rules restricting Prey weren't 'fair'. 

That, and to Screech, the ISND had already proven themselves trustworthy many times over. So it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that Screech would say yes to a few days holiday even without Prey 'persuading' him.

'I hadn't considered this before. I could actually go on a holiday.'

There was of course the danger to consider. Any time spent outside of Canterlot was time not spent on preparing runic defences against the mimics or whoever else decided they wanted a piece of lamb. And, as disgusting as it was to even think, he was currently safer in Canterlot than he was outside of it. 

But the things Prey needed to do were important. They'd waited for fifty-seven years while he'd been locked in Dreverton, and while they'd keep, he'd still have to leave to complete them at some point. Assuming Screech said yes. Which he would, because Prey would convince him. As long as he didn't pass it up the chain of command to Luna for some strange reason, the Lieutenant's positive answer was basically guaranteed.

The idea honestly scared Prey. He'd had so many years to do nothing but think and brood on what he could've done, what he did do, and what he might do, that suddenly facing the possibility of going back to do them as soon as the end of this week perhaps frightened him. But he had to do this at some point, either now or later. The List had objectives on it which were non-negotiable, even to himself.

And honestly... deep down he wanted to go. Part of him anyway. Even if he was scared.

'A holiday... I guess I really am going on a holiday. I didn't see that coming.'

Seems the quack Clear Mind had been right about at least one thing. Galling, but even a broken clock will be right twice a day, Prey supposed.

'I'm going on a holiday.'


---I---