Favors
By Dracarion
“I bucked up. I really bucked up. Bad.” Dawn stared up at the ceiling.
“Dawn? Dawn Hope?” The voice said back, more than a tinge of surprise in its sound.
The purple mare brought a hoof to her face. “I know it’s been a while…”
“Four years.”
“Really?” Dawn shook her head. Focus, girl. “Anyway, I’m calling in a favor.”
“Really…” Scootaloo said, a little in disbelief. “Since when do I owe you anything?”
“Well,” Dawn got a sly grin on her face as she leaned onto the desk in front of her, “how about that little ‘dry spell’ of thirteen?”
“Ugh,” Scootaloo let loose an exasperated sigh, “you’re calling in on that favor? This…”
“No.” Dawn quickly interrupted Scootaloo. “I’m cashing in on everything you owe me from that year.”
“I dunno. Can you do that?” Scootaloo’s voice became muffled. “Can she do that?”
“I think I just did.”
“Well then,” Scootaloo’s voice became serious with the gravity of the situation, “what’s the problem?” Dawn then began to recount the events of the night, starting with her taking Dustrunner.
-- -- ---
Equestria, Canterlot, Palace Gardens, 1020NB
“Alright, Dawn, I’ll see you this afternoon.” Scootaloo said, closing her phone and turning back towards Carver. “So,” she paused to remember what they were discussing, “coat. Here’s the deal, I got a friend who needs some help, you lend me a helping hoof, and I give you back your coat. Deal?”
Carver snorted, weighing the options in his mind. On one hoof, he could take his coat back by force. But on the other hoof, he could possibly forge an alliance with those mares that foalnapped him almost a month ago, and he had to admit that the little cloud head in front of him was quite good.
“Alright.” He said finally, deciding on the choice that would be in his best interest. “I’ll help you.” Scootaloo breathed a sigh of relief. “However,” he continued, taking another step towards her, “I’m gonna need payment in advance.”
-- ---- ----
An orange pony walked down the street, he was obviously being regarded as crazy since he was talking to himself In the few hours that he’d been running, he’d made it into the business district of the once great city of Clouds Fall. It was here that he saw a pony that sparked a memory. An unfortunate memory…
“It was 1014. That was the year our luck ran out.” Markis said, having grasped his situation but not wanting to believe it. “They got us… I don’t remember who, but they had us. They drug him out and… oh, what was his name…”
“Wings?” Felan asked. Markis had been blocking out his, for lack of a better word, friend’s idle chatter.
“ Yeah, Wings.” Markis felt a pang of sadness. “They… Oh the screams as they… All because we wouldn’t just roll over and let them in. Wouldn’t let them take over. All because we fought back.”
“Markis. Buddy.” Felan laughed as he talked. “What happened, happened. And I see just the thing to cheer you up.” His eyes locked on a mare’s flank.
“No.”
“Hey!” Felan took on a mock serious tone. “You look like the kind of filly that could show a colt a hell of a good time.” He was rewarded with a swift hoof to his face, to which he only laughed. “The hard way then.” He said, attempting to grapple the young mare. The mare screamed and bucked him hard, sending him sprawling and into unconsciousness.
- -- -- -- -- -
“Alright. You’ve got your coat back.” The orange mare said as the two ponies trotted back to the parking lot. “Now, do you have a place to stay?”
“Why?” He turned and narrowed his eyes at her. “You making a pass at me?”
“WHAT!?” Scootaloo recoiled slightly, not even thinking about how what she’d asked could be misconstrued. “No! It’s just that we need to look into what my friend…”
“Dawn?” Carver asked, glad to see their cars in the lot.
“Yeah, Dawn. We need to look into what she was doing.” Scootaloo said, as they began walking again. “And I know a librarian that just might be able to help us.”
“And just what, exactly, was she doing?” Carver asked, curious as to what he had really gotten himself into.
“Something about biomancy.” Scootaloo shrugged, unsure of the true meaning of the word.
Carver tripped, literally, at such an art being so casually drop into the conversation. “Biomancy? Dawn was bucking with biomancy?” He stood back up, and looked at his coat. “Nightmare forgive me, but it’s not worth it.” He started to remove his coat, his motions a mixture of upset and rage. “It’s just not worth it.”
“Hey.” He kept going. “Hey! Look! STOP!” Carver halted, one sleeve on, one sleeve off, coat draped across his back. “Thanks. Look, how about, say, two grand for helping?”
“I say goodbye.” Carver said, following with a snort and a turn of his head. “I’d want at least ten.”
Negotiations never were Scootaloo’s strong suit, and were almost always handled by either Sweetie Belle or Dinkie. “Three. And your coat remains part of the deal.”
“Seven, and I don’t ask for your car.” He knew it was low after noting her cutiemark, but he was sure the negotiation was far from over.
“You and I both know that in our ‘line of work’ that we don’t make that much.” She paused for a minute. “I could make some calls and possibly come up with three and a half.”
He knew she was against a wall, but he put one last offer on the table. “Four. And my coat.”
She sighed, and muttered to herself “Bloom won’t be happy about this.” She looked the grey stallion in his eyes. “Deal.” With that they both spat on a hoof and shook on it. “So,” she scuffed the ground with a hoof, “you gotta place to stay?”
“No, I just figured I‘d grab a hotel room or something.” He said, pulling his coat the rest of the way back on.
“In Canterlot?” She shook her head. “Most places won’t rent you a room at this hour, and you really don’t want to stay at any of the ones that will.” She turned and started back to the parking lot. “Anyways, they are all sooo overpriced. We’ll stay with an old friend. She’s like maybe ten minutes away, and I doubt she’ll mind us showing up at this hour.” She paused for a second. “What time is it anyway?” She reached back and fished out her keys.
“It is…” Carver looked down at his watch, an enchantment allowing for the time to be read through the broken crystal. “…four thirty five.”
“Oooh, it’s fairly late.” She said, reaching for her phone. “I should call her before we head over there.”
“Ok, I’ll let my team know to meet us in Clouds Fall.” He said, leaning against his car and pulling out his phone. “If we’re dealing with a biomancer, we’re gonna need the help.” He quickly typed a message to Aquashine and Prancer telling them to meet him in Clouds Fall that evening. He looked over as he overheard the orange mare’s side of the phone conversation.
“Hey…. Yeah, I’m sorry about the late hour….. I know… Yeah, she’s fine….. No, she’s not here….. Why? Well, truthfully this never really involved her….. Hey…. HEY……. Sorry….. I only called you because you said if I need a place to stay, I only needed to call…. Yeah…” She opened the trunk of her car and started looking for something. “It’s two of us…..” She pulled her head out of her trunk, a dark jacket draped over an orange hoof. She looked Carver over. “We’ll be off by noon tomorrow….” She deftly pulled on the jacket. “Alright, we’ll see you in about ten minutes.” She reached a hoof over and flipped her phone closed. "Alright," she said, turning to address Carver fully, "I got us a place about ten minutes away. Just follow my tail lights, if ya aren't a gelding." She threw down the challenge, as she hopped into her car and let it roar to life.
- - --- --
Ten minutes away. Carver thought, glancing at his speedometer again. Sure, at triple the posted speed limit. They took another corner and this time Scootaloo didn’t accelerate back to an insanely high speed. We must be close. He was right, as they turned into a drive just a short distance down the street.
They walked up to Scootaloo’s friend’s home, to be greeted by a white mare with a deep blue mane and tail. “Hey Rares.” Scootaloo greeted the older pony, quickly pulling the mare into a hug.
“Scootaloo, darling, how have you been?” She asked, quickly looking the younger mare over.
“Good actually, considering how scarce work can be. You?” Scootaloo said, taking a weary step back.
“Good, good. Oh, but where are my manners, come in, come in.” She waved them in, closing the door behind them. “Now,” she said, summoning silver spectacles, “what have we here?” She eyed Carver over, who pawed slightly nervously at the polished hardwood beneath his hooves. “My, my, my, you have seen a life, haven’t you? And this coat, I mean the workmareship isn’t bad, but obviously made by an amateur, and just WHAT is this material? I feel as if though I should know it.” Her expert eyes and sharp mind quickly analyzing the young stallion before her.
“Truthfully, I would have to say that it’d be odd if you did. But for now, let’s just say that ignorance is bliss.” He looked at his black coat, which ran the full length of his back and split into four points across his flank.
The white unicorn continued to look at the coat, still trying to figure it out. “It looks like some kind of leather, but even the cuts look to be amateurish. Do you mind if I ask as to who made this?”
Carver proudly ran his hoof down his coat sleeve. “Actually, I did.”
Her eyes quickly started scanning the coat, her gaze more scrutinous that before. “You? Really?”
“Yes.”
“And what is your name?” She finally asked.
“Shade.” He said, giving a slight bow. “Shade Trotter. And I must say, Lady Rarity, that it is an honor to meet you face to face.” He let out a yawn, and let his train of thought change direction. “However, if we might skip the pleasantries, I think that it would be best if we were to get some sleep.”
“Of course.” Rarity said, motioning for them to follow as she headed up the stairs. “Unfortunately, my current project has taken over most my rooms, and I only really have one guest bed setup. So, you both will have to make do with sharing this room.” She opened the door, revealing a room about the size of a living room. It had a bed near one corner, and a couch sitting across from a small TV which was flanked by bookcases.
Carver turned towards Scootaloo. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Such a gentlecolt.” She said, heading to the bed. “But there’s no need for you to be uncomfortable when there’s more than enough room for both of us.”
“Trust me,” Carver said as he flopped onto the couch, “I’ve slept in far worse conditions.”
Scootaloo walked over to a small dresser that sat opposite the bed and pulled out a set of covers and a pillow, which she tossed at Carver. “Well, this is far from the battle fields.”
“True.” Carver said, shifting into a comfortable position and lowering the covers onto himself. He turned to their host for the night. “I must thank you for letting us stay here, Lady Rarity.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure, darling.” Rarity said, leaning slightly against the doorframe. “Pleasant dreams.” The elder mare shifted back to her hooves and started to her room.
“Yeah,” Scootaloo said around a large yawn, “Thanks Rares.” She quickly got into bed, questions trying to enter her sleep deprived mind just to be cast aside until morning. “Night Carver.”
“Night.” Was all that came back, as he started to fall asleep.
- -- --- --
The young unicorn awoke; his back ached from the cramped cage he was confined in. He reached a grey hoof up and swept his black mane out of his face. He’d been woken by the screams of a pony mixed with the harsh sounds of griffonic laughter. He looked out to see Wings’ wings forcefully outstretched and bent in many unnatural places. If, no WHEN, when I get out, I’m gonna have a little fun with our ‘hosts’. He thought to himself, nearly unable to stomach watching what they were doing to his friend.
After what seemed like hours, they stopped and let the pegasus drop to the ground. “Please,” the weak winged pony started, “please, just end it.” The largest griffon of the group, who also bore the symbols of command, flexed his claws, rending the poor pony’s belly open. In a few minutes, it would be over.
It was supposed to be easier if you didn’t know their names. Carver thought, remembering the past three years they’d worked together, as he watch a pony he’d easily consider his brother slowly pass. But that was just a lie. A rage built within him, which he held on to. He’d need every horrid memory, every defeat, and every bit of rage in order to overcome his current disability. The ring that fit snuggly on his horn prevented magic from being channeled through it, but as with all devices, it could be overloaded, however it would be costly and difficult.
What the young pony found more disturbing, was the number of ponies he’d seen helping these bastards. But for now, he just had to wait…
- --- --- --