//------------------------------//
// 80.6 To Kill a Mocking Prey 
// Story: Prey and a Lamb 
// by Lambs Prey 
//------------------------------//


[Arc 6]




There are many sayings about the passage of time, some of them ponyish in nature, but every nation has its own people and culture, each with their own individual outlooks and views. These differences are not just in their climate, language, foods, cultural norms, festivals, and customs, but also in their sayings. Such as:

"Someone killing time is not living their life."

"See how fast this year went? You had best stop wasting your time."

"Time is the greatest teacher of patience."

"The more time passes, the more you realise how little you know."

"Find peace with your limited time, and you shall enjoy that same peace throughout it."

Time marches ever onwards, never one second faster, or slower, just exactly where it is supposed to be on the track of the  universe. It cares not if your clock is set right, or if you woke up late, or how many more hours people want in the day, more days in their years, and more years in their lives. Time will always keep plodding along just the same as it has since it first began: At its' own pace, and no one else's. 

Either sign up and get onboard, or don't. It doesn't make the blindest bit of difference.

Time passed. Some things changed. Others didn't. But no matter what you do or say, time still passes.

And that was what, to the surprise of none, had happened. Time had passed, and the days had moved on. Gloom and Crimson had returned in triumph from their secret mission in Griffonstone, along with the other Night Guards and Captain Nighthawk. 

The griffin Hafflow had stood trial, even though he wasn't a citizen of Equestria, but they were using some law about visiting ambassadors, emissaries, and their aides still being liable if they offended royalty, and Luna most definitely had taken offense. 

Griffonia was still denying everything, calling for justice for their ambassador's death (even though they were also claiming he'd been operating rogue), and demanding the return of Hafflow. As an end result of all of this, official relationships between Griffonia and Equestria were now strained.

There was no mention ever made about the Bearer of the Element of Laughter who'd been attacked that night. In fact, in all likelihood, she'd written off the whole thing as a nightmare, just like Luna had intended. After all, you can't die in real life and wake up afterwards, so it must've been a dream.

The days rolled steadily onwards, though. Gloom and Crimson were glad to be back and return to normal ISND work, even if that meant the 'work' bit of paperwork.

Lilly Blossom could be found most days, if you went looking for her, in either the company of Saffron when the supermodel could find time off, or with Carton Juice. She was still going through rehab, learning how to live every day with a wooden leg, a disfigurement, and no magic. She had to re-learn how to write, how to cook, how to clean, how to shower, how to put on a coat, how to carry shopping bags, anything and everything that you never thought of until you were no longer capable of doing it.

It was uphill all the way, with many steps forwards and just as many backwards. Lilly was not a patient person, took failure hard, and was the wrong kind of stubborn. It wouldn't have been easy for any unicorn in her position, but it was especially hard for Lilly because of her personality.

Still though, between bouts of depression and misery, Lilly was committed to getting back control of her life and returning to the Night Guard. High highs, and low lows.

Scenic Paint on the other hoof had officially put in his resignation papers. He would shortly be jobless, not that it affected him much. He was mostly devoted to painting, and could live quite comfortably off his parents support, even if he didn't like his parents. Prey thought less of him for it, although a lot of that might've been envy that Scenic could leave the Night Guard and escape Luna. The ISND still saw a lot of the stallion and his marefriend though, since both were still very actively engaged with supporting and being there for Lilly.

Things changed. Others remained the same. People move, make decisions, or sit back and wait. It was the passage of life and living.

The sun rises, the sun sets. But we all have to cross the river some day.


------


With all that said and done, time does not pass in a blink of an eye. It passes exactly as fast as it passes. There may be no significant life changing events between one big happening and the next, but that time in between still has to pass.

However there were still some events, or meetings, or minor disasters which still happened between one of Prey's utter failures, and the next.


------


The first. On the very night Gloom and Crimson got back, after everything was sorted, the reports given, their prisoner delivered, dinner had been eaten while half dead with tiredness, and everyone had gone back to their own apartments to sleep. 

It was late, very late. 

There was little more than an hour left until the dawn, even with the longer nights and shorter days of progressing autumn. Prey wasn't sleeping. He was sitting on his bed, watching his hooves. 

Prey basically never sat idle, there was always work to be done. If he didn't work and didn't prepare runic defences, something one day would get him. So whenever he wasn't sleeping, eating, working at the Palace, or otherwise occupied, he would be creating runes. Rune work was draining, it physically sucked the strength from your limbs and emotion from your body, which was all the more reason to keep plugging away at it bit by bit every day.

So Prey was basically never idle. Yet he was idle now. He wasn't crying or raging or sullenly staring at the ceiling, none of those. He was just sitting there and blankly considering his own hooves.

After a while, Crimson had knocked on the door. Prey had hopped down and let Crimson in.

They had talked, for a bit anyways. 

Prey asked questions about his undercover mission in Griffonstone. Crimson had told him about the contrast between night and day there, with the sun blazing down even high up on the mountain slopes and during fall, and then the biting freeze that came every night.

"It reminds me a bit of winter in the caves of clan Myrrdon. Not the same, obviously, but there are parallels."

Recollections of memories that weren't his own but Garrow's prompted Prey to ask more about the country, as opposed to what had happened while they were there undercover and secretly trying to track down Hafflow. 

Crimson told him a bit about the fish and meat market, although he himself had stayed out of it. He mentioned the lack of cloud homes, unlike here in Equestria with Cloudsdale. It was too cold in Griffonstone come autumn and winter for anything but solid walls where you could burn a fire. Griffonian weather was also a lot more wild than Equestrian standards. Griffins did not have as much weather magic as pegasi naturally did, and so large-scale weather control had never really been a thing in Griffonia. 

That, and the storms and winters were much worse up there, making it a losing battle right from the get-go.

"The alpine forests there are beautiful, though." Crimson said, "You fly for miles along the lower mountain slopes, and it's this rich band of thick, unbroken, towering green. I think I like the land. I mean, I think griffins aren't missing anything here in Equestria. They have it different there, that is all. Not worse, just different."

Their talk moved on. They were both tired, struggling to keep their eyes open and dawn was not far away, but they sat up and talked regardless. 

Prey only gave the barest run down of his time here with them gone. There wasn't much to say. Prey gave a summarized account of what, from his perspective, had happened after he'd gotten their scribbled emergency message-in-a-bottle note. He made no mention of Luna's resurrection of the dead. He hadn't given his word to Luna, but that didn't really matter because she was an alicorn. She gave an order, and you followed it for your own good.

Neither of them were much good at small talk, and the topics meandered and jumped about rather nonsensically.

Prey returned Crimson's Blood Fern to him. Crimson thanked him again for the magical feather, citing how he had definitely noticed the difference when having to haul the bound and gagged Hafflow. "Between the four of us, I managed to go twice as long on every cloud pushing shift."

As in, they'd hidden during the day, and during the night compacted a cloud and dumped Hafflow on top of it, and taken turns pushing it until dawn the next day. The others had been impressed, but seemed to have put it down to Crimson just being the fittest and best flier out of them all. Crimson had merely kept quiet and not corrected them, since Prey had asked him to keep the electrite feather a secret just between the two of them. For Prey, Crimson had agreed.

"Yes. Well, you're welcome Crimson. It's not as active or 'flashy' as the jade necklace was, sorry for that. But, it's what I could get. It's just lots of passive buffs." Prey had responded.

"I would not trade it Prey. There is... no cost associated with this feather. And thank you. Again."

Eventually though, after a period of quiet, Crimson had gotten around to asking the hard questions. There were two of them. Visibly steeling himself, although Prey only noticed the tells because he was paying close attention, Crimson had asked what he probably thought was the lesser of the two questions first:

"Prey, are you, I mean, are you alright?"

"Fine, thank you for asking. I've dealt with something recently, but I'll be fine. I'm fine." Prey smiled. He tried, but he couldn't hide the empty edge.

Crimson didn't seem fooled either. He looked more concerned instead. His wings shuffled, a tufted ear twitched once nervously. "Did something happen while-? No, what happened while we were gone, Prey?"

"Things happened, yes," Prey admitted reasonably, still keeping the smile going, "But I'm dealing with it. It'll be fine soon. I'll get over it."

Again a wing twitch, the same one which bore the disguised electrite feather Prey noted, "If you say so, but... does it have something to do with your short holiday? When you went to see your family, I mean. Lieutenant Screech mentioned it."

"I..." Prey paused, mouth open. He could say it, tell Crimson, dispense with this secret here and now. But he couldn't. He just couldn't tell anyone. The secret burned on his tongue like a live coal, but he'd rather swallow and burn than spit the coal out. He just couldn't tell.

"...I went back on the train to my village. Rushweed. I remember you saying you might want to come along, but since you were gone, and the opportunity was there, I just went by myself." Prey kept up the bland smile, "Perhaps next time, though."

Crimson was eyeing him with something Prey couldn't quite put a name to, "Yes please. I would like to meet your mother quite a bit. It would be very educational, if nothing else."

"Sure thing." Prey agreed, and even half meant it. 

If he ever went back there to the overgrown ruins, it would have to be for a very good reason, and if that was the case, perhaps taking Crimson and showing him rather than telling him would be easier. He smiled at Crimson.

Crimson unconsciously rubbed at the line of scars on the underside of his foreleg. The tally mark line. It was a very unguarded movement, coming from Crimson. He must be thinking hard about something else. Prey sat up and tried to pay attention, trying to push past the empty grey apathy filling his insides. This was Crimson, he needed to at least try to be here in the now.

It was then that Crimson asked the second hard question, the one he'd been putting off: 

"We, that is I, got a parcel delivered by courier to the room we were renting. While in Griffonstone, I mean. While I was sick, and the griffin doctor thought it was the Blood Feather Plague at first. Inside, there was another bag tied up with a blue ribbon in a bow. It came from you, right?"

"Yes, I sent it. I did include a note too." 

"I, yes, I was just making absolutely sure, though. Anyway, you wrote you'd found a herbal remedy, that was in the box, and that I should take it." Crimson's wings again shifted at his sides.

"That's right, yeah." Prey nodded. 

In the box had been a number of slightly mismatched small dark cubes of ground up herbs, roots, and a few other things. The squares were baked in an oven to make them keep, and measured a few inches cubed. Prey had baked and included eight of them, twice as much as he'd estimated would actually be needed.

"Well, I know you wouldn't send anything dangerous or poisonous, and there was nothing to lose by trying, so I ate them. And they worked. I got better." Crimson stopped for a minute. It didn't take a genius to know there was something he wasn't saying though.

"I don't think I quite put that right. Whatever you sent worked Prey. It wasn't the Blood Feather Plague, but still. I was sick Prey. I don't know if you realise how bad it was, but I was very ill. Could hardly eat, no strength, hard to breathe, could barely drink, couldn't sleep, getting that bit weaker every hour..." Crimson broke off his wooden recounting, eyes blinking and suddenly back in the now rather than the memory. He took a fortifying breath and moved on from the past:

"And I got better. I'm almost certain beyond a doubt it was whatever you sent. But, you see the thing is, it wasn't unexpected-No, I mean my, that illness-I'm not saying this right."

"Yes?" Prey prompted after Crimson didn't continue. 

He knew where this was going even if Crimson's mental walls were still solid, but he was finding it hard to care as much as he should have. Everything just seemed to be... half. Half as important, or worrying, or concerning as it really was. So he simply kept smiling.

"Prey, what was, I mean... what did you put in those food blocks? There were lots of herbs, but also... something else?" Crimson asked but he wasn't asking, not really.

"Before I answer that, I feel I should ask; do you really want to know?" Prey asked kindly, "I have always said there are only two things I will not do for you Crimson. I will say it again, and again, until you finally believe all that it entails. So, do you really want to know?"

He smiled at Crimson, and made a great effort to make the smile as genuine a one as he could summon up.

Crimson looked at him, and his amber eyes flickered with self-doubt. Prey waited for Crimson to make his choice. 

Crimson wanted to know, but he also suspected he knew what the answer would be. Crimson hated lies. Prey wouldn't lie to him here if he asked. If he didn't ask, then he wouldn't have to know the truth. He doubted Prey really had scrounged up what he thought he had, but still, he didn't know. But Crimson doubted it, because it was so hard to believe.

"He wouldn't have done. He wouldn't know..." Crimson mumbled to himself, voice so quiet even Prey wasn't sure if that's exactly what Crimson had said.

The answer in the end was no. Crimson did not ask. 

So they moved on, changed the topic, spoke of other things, and left the question unanswered. That was one of the happenings that Prey remembered as important. Other people wouldn't have thought it important, and to them it wouldn't have been either. They had their own lives and stories. Other things happened.


---///O\\\---


Prey restarted his rune work down in his lair, but it was... half hearted. 

He still put in the hours, still steadily built new arrays, but he was only going through the motions even if he was sticking to his schedule. Lemon Pink was keeping very quiet whenever they were both in the same room. A thought had been coming to Prey more and more recently about that. In fact, the thought had probably been long overdue to begin with.

Lemon had come from his memories. She'd fought with him, saved his life, and had travelled with him back to Rushweed. She'd cried there too. But the more time passed, the more she naturally diverged from him. Again, it was what happened with the passage of time.

'Lemon Pink is my tool. But she is also a person. Her own person. Mine, but also her own.'

She was physically an adult, a pony, and a unicorn. And a she. She had a coltfriend, Randy, even if Prey himself thought very little of the simple earth pony. However, that just proved the point even more.

Lemon was loyal, there was no question there, but still, she was developing further and further into her own divergent person. A broken person, yes, but then weren't they all? She knew what it was like to be trapped under the black ice, knowing that you'd never break free of it.

Prey idly made a note to see how her development ended. It might be interesting, maybe enough to hold his undivided attention when that happened. Prey smiled at nothing, then blinked and let it fade when he realised he was alone in the lantern-lit lair, and there was no one to see it. Oh well, he decided it didn't matter. 

Very little seemed to nowadays.


---\\\O///---


And then there was the Night Guard medal award ceremony.

Way back when, and it felt longer than it actually was, after surviving the horrors of Mayflower, it had been decided the ISND needed medals to reward them for almost dying. At the time Nighthawk had not decided on this, but Luna had, so it was going to happen. 

The ceremony had been delayed, then put back, and then delayed again what with one thing and then the next interrupting schedules and plans. But unfortunately, there was no getting out of it any longer. 

Luna had mentioned the ceremony for the second time to Nighthawk, which was as good as an order for the Captain to get on with it.

What precisely was the medal for, though? Barely surviving? Failing to rescue any of the kindersnatch victims? Later killing most of them with bone rot mines? Not even stopping the warlock in the end, with Hard Baked seemingly just committing suicide? Prey wasn't quite clear on what merits they were supposed to be awarded for here. Maybe it was a gold star for trying?

'Ah well, it doesn't really matter.'

Prey fixed a smile on his face. He stood on the small set-up stage, lined up with the rest of the ISND, even the soon to be ex-ISND and inactive ISND members. Because Scenic and Lilly were also here. 

Lilly was standing between Gloom and Scenic, who had both helped her up onto the wooden stage. Scenic was in his old Night Guard armour, while Gloom and Crimson were in their much newer and more functional armour. Apparently it shouldn't be too long, only another month or so, until the rest of the Night Guard were finally outfitted too. But for now, it was still just the two of them out of the entire Night Guard. The armour wasn't flashy, it didn't have any ridiculous helmet plumes, but they still stood out starkly from every other metal-clad thestral now.

This little presentation was taking place in the Guard Hall. The sun had just risen outside, and for most of the Night Guards present, it was the last event of their shift. Looking around, there were still only enough Night Guards to fill about half the assembly hall. Or if you were a cynic, the hall was still half empty. 

Prey smiled inanely out at the rows of helmeted heads and yellow slitted eyes, all standing at attention in front of the raised stage.

He didn't want to be here. His wants didn't matter though, this was merely the way things were. At least Luna wasn't here.

The Princess was apparently indisposed. Doing what, only the higher powers knew. Meaning; Luna herself and her sister. Because whatever the distraction was, the Sun Wolf herself had left very clear instructions that the two of them were not to be disturbed under any circumstances. 

The guess going around the Night Guard was that it had something to do with Griffonia, and to those thestrals in the know, that it had something to do with their newest political prisoner. Was the Sun Wolf pleased? Was she displeased? She certainly didn't deign to inform the lesser mortals if her sister had messed up or not in her eyes. That an alicorn can do no wrong against mortals, only another immortal seemed to be the prevailing lesson here.

Captain Nighthawk was coming to the end of his short, gruff speech. It really hadn't been much of a speech, more a presentation of the non-classified facts of their mission to the assembled Night Guards. Thestrals didn't go in for speeches, to whom actions spoke louder than words, but if you were recounting the ISND's actions to them, it amounted to much the same thing Prey mused.

"...That leaves me the honour of presenting each pony the Half Moon medal." Nighthawk finished rather abruptly. Without any further ceremony, he pulled a crumpled pouch out from under his armour and trotted to the first person in line, which was Gloom as he was the Sargent.

Prey only half watched as the Captain fished out one of the medals with a wing claw and pinned it to Gloom's sleek armour. It stuck on with a little metallic *tack*. The medal wasn't big, just the size of a gold bit, a shiny silver semi-circle, fitting the Half Moon nature of the medal.

Prey had been forced to listen to some of the history of this medal. It was the usual tripe; only awarded for excess bravery and selfless sacrifice in the field, yadda yadda. They were the first Night Guards to receive it in over a thousand years, since Luna's banishment, and it was a big honour, yadda yadda. A Full Moon medal was only awarded posthumously, though. Prey didn't care about that, he didn't care about any of this, but he smiled anyway.

'Smile.'

Lilly Blossom was next in the line. She couldn't wear armour anymore though. She had on a long sleeved shirt, and a light, but very fluffy, scarf. It was her standard attempt to hide the meldwood disfigurement. It did nothing for her face though, so it only half worked. Or cynically again, it half failed.

'-be brave. They're looking at you, but they're not staring at you. Breathe. Do what doctor Helpful said, count to ten. I'm in a happy place. It's fine, it's all fine. Gloom explained it, they're thestrals, they don't care. Be brave. Tons of them all have scars and stuff too-', Lilly was repeating internally to herself.

Prey saw her jerk out of the corner of his eye when she refocused and found Nighthawk standing in front of her with her medal, the taller pony looming slightly. Lilly opened her mouth, forgetting she wasn't supposed to say anything, but Nighthawk simply pinned the medal onto her dark navy shirt with a swift motion and moved on to Scenic.

'-I don't want a medal. I don't need or deserve a medal. A medal isn't right, shouldn't all those poor, poor villagers get a medal instead? I didn't do anything-', Scenic was thinking, staring straight ahead, embarrassed, feeling ashamed, and desperately wishing this ceremony was over.

*tack* Went the Half Moon medal while the assembled Night Guard silently looked on, and when Nighthawk moved out of the way and on to Crimson, Scenic was left facing them all. He hastily dropped his gaze, unable to meet all those yellow eyes, and secretly afraid they all knew how much of a imposter he felt like.

Crimson stood perfectly straight and unmoving, just like a good thestral warrior while Nighthawk tacked the second-to-last Half Moon medal to his chestplate. No words or nod needed.

'-there isn't even a point to this award ceremony anymore. Shining Armour declined to attend last minute, that was the whole point, to show the Royal Guard-', Nighthawk thought in annoyance, fishing the last silver medal out of the bag with a wing claw.

He stepped in front of Prey, looming over the lamb, although not on purpose. Prey smiled up at him. He didn't have any armour, or even a shirt like Lilly wore. Just his wool and his ribbon. Oh, and the two gold tracer bands too, of course. 

Prey took a hurried step backwards when Nighthawk bent down with the silver medal. His smile stayed strong though. Nighthawk frowned, but then just wordlessly offered the medal to Prey, balanced expertly on the end of his wing claw.

After a moment, Prey gingerly took it, and with some fumbling, managed to get it to stick in his wool enough that it wouldn't immediately fall out. He stood back up straight, faced the silent ranks of Night Guards as they looked at the ISND, and smiled.

He kept smiling until Nighthawk gruffly finished up the ceremony and they were able to go.


---


They'd barely finished seeing Lilly safely back into her flat and shut the door, when Scenic finally tore the medal off his chestplate and flung it violently into the trimmed bushes flanking the garden gate.

Prey's head jerked round to track the sudden movement, but seeing what Scenic was doing, he relaxed and smiled.

"Why did you do that?" Crimson asked blankly, looking at the offending bush.

Scenic was breathing heavily, staring at the same bush.

"Scenic?" Gloom prompted.

"It's just a stupid piece of metal." Scenic said sullenly. The three ponies might still all be in armour, but they weren't on duty. Scenic didn't need to use any formal form of address.

"I see. You think that medal is supposed to mean that everything we went through at Mayflower was worth it, because we were given a medal at the end of it. Am I right?" Gloom asked, trotting over to the bush. It was an evergreen of some kind, since the leaves weren't even slightly orange or brown by this time of the year.

"It's not alright and it wasn't worth it. What about all those ponies who died? The villagers? Mayflower and Alfalfa Dale? Fallen Leaf and the deer holt, even. It's not right. Why should we get given a medal for that?" Scenic demanded, although not really of anyone. He was just ranting.

Crimson flicked a wing tip up to under his own medal, lifting it up with a pinion feather to look at it upside down. "It does feel that way, but it's not true Scenic. I mean, a medal does not fix anything, but it's more a reminder for you. I mean, not that any of us will forget, but that's what I see it as anyway. Neither a mark of success nor of failure. Just a mark of duty."

"Well I don't want it, no matter the reason." Scenic muttered, not taking his back when Gloom straightened up from the bush with Scenic's thrown medal.

"Too bad. It was awarded to you. Take it, it's yours whether you want it or not. Put it in a box and try to forget about it, show it to Carton or don't, tell her about it or don't, but it's yours." Gloom pushed the Half Moon medal onto Scenic. "Take it."

"I'm just going to throw it off the mountain or something if I do." Scenic muttered, still not taking it back.

Prey smiled and silently nodded along. He was probably going to do the same thing. A medal was worse than utterly worthless. And also a painful reminder of failure. Of the villagers of Alfalfa Dale in that pit. Of the avenging diamond dogs. And of worse.

Gloom sighed in a longsuffering manner, "Fine, I'll give it to Carton Juice for safekeeping then."

"No!" Scenic hastily snatched it off from Gloom's wing claw, "I mean, no. She doesn't need to know about what happened, I mean she does know, kinda'. But it's not, she'll just think that..." His words trailed off into inaudible mumbling.

Not too quiet for Prey's ears though, but he didn't care. It wasn't like it mattered.

Gloom and Crimson were far from unobservant either, and Scenic was a pony, meaning anything but subtle.

"You still haven't told her about what really happened in Mayflower." Crimson stated.

"No, I did. I just, skipped on the, ah, gory details. And, and about, about that night. Around the fire. In Mayflower. In the dark..."

"You also didn't tell her how it really felt, did you?" Gloom asked, unsurprised. It didn't mean he wasn't still frustrated with Scenic, though. This was all old news, something that should've been over and dealt with by now.

'-is not easy to share those kinds of things, but moon blast it, that's what the therapists have been telling us all to do from the very beginning Scenic-'

Crimson raised one eyebrow slightly under the curved rim of his sleek helmet, "And her seeing your medal will ruin this how, exactly?"

"It just will. Well, it won't, I know that. But it also still will, even though it'll just be a little bit. I don't want to... disappoint her. She's a Canterlot pony. Carton's strong, stronger than me. Uh, not just physically I mean, although that too duh. But she's..." 

Scenic searched for words. "...She's so kind and good at harmony, and I'm not anymore."

'-but blast it all, I just don't want to do this and I don't want this stupid medal-'

Prey twitched at the word 'Harmony', but he pushed it away and affixed his polite smile again. Ponies misused that word every single time, especially now that he had seen 'Harmony', but he would just have to get used to it.

'So just keep smiling.'

Gloom and Crimson exchanged looks in silent conversation.

Gloom shrugged, "I don't agree, but if you want to talk about it later to somepony who isn't Carton, you can find me."

"Or if you want to spar, you can come find me instead." Crimson blandly added.

"Uh, what?"

"I mean, if you would prefer to work out your frustrations with a sparring match, I am willing to be your partner." Crimson explained patiently.

"Uhh, thanks but no thanks Crimson."

"I was joking."

"What, really? You?" Scenic asked in complete surprise.

Crimson gave a brief wing shrug, "Yes. I mean, unless you really had said yes, then I would be happy to spar with you, but I would've also been very surprised."

'-oh. He was trying to make me feel better-', Scenic thought, realising that Crimson's efforts had even briefly worked too.

Prey idly eyed some passers-by on the street while the other three kept on talking, who were likewise eyeing Gloom and Crimson in their armour, and speeding up their pace. Few even noticed Prey standing there in the small front garden, but to the rare few who did, he smiled brightly back. When were they going to finish so that he could leave? He should be doing more important things than standing around twiddling his hooves. Should be, anyways. 

He just couldn't feel any drive to do so however. Inside he was empty, like an old box filled with dust and cobwebs.

'-alright, I think this is enough back and forth about this medal. It's time I moved Scenic  on, he's fixating-', Gloom decided.

"Scenic, could we stop by your house briefly?" Gloom interrupted.

Scenic blinked, "Uh, ah, sure?"

Gloom opened the garden gate, ushering everyone to go on through, "Thank you. We want to drop off our armour at your house briefly. We'll pick it up once we get back, if that isn't an issue." 

"No problem, no problem. Where're you going?" Scenic asked, as they filed out.

"No, where are we going. We as in we. The four of us are going to get ice-cream milkshakes. Curlies' Cream Cup, it's not far from your house. It has some very nice fruit milkshakes, mango ones too."

Scenic blinked again, "Er, I wasn't planning to..."

"Come with us anyway." Gloom told him.

Scenic looked to Crimson, "Only if you guys were already going. Don't feel you all have to on my behalf." He said a bit weakly.

"It sounds nice." Crimson said, agreeing. If you weren't much bothered either way, then taking the option with a nice treat involved in it wasn't a hard choice.

"Good, it's decided then. First to your house, then to Curlies' Cream Cup." Gloom announced stepping up to Scenic's left. By unspoken signal, Crimson took Scenic's right, supporting Scenic between the two of them.

'-take a page out of Taffy's book. Sugar, and a battering ram for all their objections-'


---


The ice-cream milkshake was okay. That was all. Just okay. 

The other three thought they were great, Gloom with his long scarf draped over his chest and his Dusk Pony amulet on, but Prey didn't find his anything more than okay. It wasn't as sweet as it should have been. Just okay, like any candy he'd eaten recently. It was as sweet in flavour as ever, but it lacked that certain something now. Just okay. Prey alternatively tried drinking and eating his incredibly thick milkshake in turns, and smiled anyway.

It wasn't really an important event, but it was one which still persisted in lingering in Prey's fore-memory.


---///O\\\---


Time waits for nobody nor anything, and ever moves on. The ISND were all back up and working again, mainly on making damn sure the griffins didn't have any more spies left in the city. It was one of those tasks where you would never know if you'd been successful or not. If they couldn't uncover any more spies, couldn't that just mean they were better hidden? Or perhaps they'd only found all of the current spies. There was nothing stopping the Griffonian government from simply laying low for a few months or longer before starting again, after all.

But one consequence of the never-ceasing march of time was that other events had now rolled around for the Night Guard. And that meant T-Day.

Prey had gotten out of the last one, but no such luck this time. Training Day was supposed to be a fortnightly exercise for every Guard in the first place, but with the extremely understaffed and overworked nature of the Night Guard up until recently, it had been once a month participation at best. Now, with the introduction of more thestrals into the Night Guard's ranks and the initial integration problems over with, Nighthawk had every intention of finally meeting that fortnightly quota.

Crimson was busy sparring against one of the new thestrals at that very moment. In fact, it happened to be the one-eyed new Lieutenant, Vivid Edge, who'd gone with them undercover to Griffonstone. 

Crimson's slice was so fast it was almost lazy, the flick right before contact that gave the strike all its' power looked nothing but casual. Vivid Edge barely managed to get her training spear up at the last second.

Crimson had already stepped forwards though, two precise paces, and struck with the other wing while simultaneously kicking out for her leg.

Vivid Edge's one eye was a disability, but she was an experienced fighter and protected her blind side as best she could. Just because she was a Lieutenant didn't make her a good warrior, take Starry Wing for instance, who was excellent at the job but just a normal thestral fighter otherwise. However, Vivid Edge had obviously earned all her many scars through bitter experience.

She shifted out of the way of Crimson's kick on instinct without losing any speed, blocking and lashing out with her spear again, trying to get distance.

Her lightning quick jab either missed Crimson or he dodged it, Prey wasn't exactly an expert, and they were going too fast to really track. That, and he was running laps at the back of the pack, panting heavily.

Crimson went after the older Vivid, relentlessly hounding her around the mat, never giving her a moment's breathing room. Strike, dodge, parry, dodge, dodge, dodge again, feint, sweeping kick, slash-stab-sidestep-strike.

Vivid took blows, mostly on her padded armour. Her normal armour probably would've blocked them too, but the odd hit would've been telling strikes. They kept going regardless, it was what sparring was for. It wasn't about winning or losing, just practice. Plus, in any real fight, it would most likely never be a one on one. Both would rely on teammates, surprise, terrain, and/or ranged options if available. A unicorn, or just a crossbow, hardly did the 'up close and personal' kind of duelling this spar was.

Crimson had already been on the sparring mat for quite a while, and was going to be there for quite a while too, since not to put too fine a point on it, Crimson was one of the best warriors in a straight-up fight the Night Guard had. As such, he'd been told to stay on the sparring mat and train/beat up in a helpful way every other Guard who faced him. There were four mats rotating Night Guards in and out, but Crimson hadn't stopped for more than a short water break since the beginning. 

No one aside from Prey and Crimson himself knew this stamina and endurance was in no small part because of the electrite feather. The skill though? That was all Crimson.

Just so long as he didn't overdo it and get badly injured again, then it didn't matter.

Around the training hall, the rest of the attending Night Guard were efficiently getting on with their current exercises or training. Which included the unhappy Prey.

Running circuits, lifting weights, striking targets, armed and unarmed sparring, a crossbow and normal bow range next door, hoops and aerial obstacles suspended from the high ceiling for the fliers (meaning everyone besides Prey), and while  doing these, half the time also carrying weighted packs and still in armour to simulate real life.

Prey had raised a token fuss at the start, but then just went along with it. He was dead last in everything, struggled with the few exercises he could actually perform, and physically hated it.

For a moment, he'd actually been tricked into giving it his best effort, thinking that he could lose himself in strenuous exertion. 

It hadn't worked, he'd been mistaken, and he'd fast realised once again this was all just a complete waste of his time. He panted and sweated and strained, and achieved nothing. Because he was a runt. Always had been. Always would be.

After running yet more laps, Prey leant against a wall, breathing heavily, and pushed his dangling ears back. Around the marked out track lanes, the other Night Guards were still going, but he personally was taking a break. He should've probably kept trotting on the spot like you were supposed to do to cool down, but he didn't care.

He was fumbling for his ribbon to tie back his stupid ears to prevent them swatting him in the face while jogging, no matter how ridiculous it would look, when he heard someone trotting up from behind him.

On turning around, he found it was Vivid Edge herself, sweating and breathing hard from exertion just like everyone else, but doing remarkably well nonetheless.

"Hello, Lieutenant." Prey got out, still breathing heavily. He smiled.

"Prey." Vivid nodded, doing what Prey should've been doing and trotting in place while she caught her breath.

"Something I can do for you, ma'am?"

"I came to ask you some questions. I just want your honest opinion." Vivid answered, turning her head so she could fully look at him with her one eye.

'-he didn't come along with us to Griffonia, but he's the pony who uncovered the griffins plot in the first place. Can be easy to forget that when looking at him-'

The mare had been on the mission to Griffonstone, and had obviously spent a lot of time in the company of Gloom and Crimson both while working. No doubt they'd all talked and gotten to know one another better, how could they not when working in such close proximity while undercover? Prey, as the only member of the ISND not taken along, was also therefore the only active ISND member who Vivid didn't know.

Simply put, she was here to get some insights into Prey for herself. Gloom and Crimson would've told her some things, but like most thestrals, she preferred first-hoof experience wherever possible.

"I'd be happy to answer most questions, ma'am." Prey said, still smiling.

Vivid snorted, "Not likely. Sargent Gloom said the exact opposite, although he also said you'd say that."

Prey seamlessly changed tack, idly untying his ribbon, "He probably did. But you still have questions, one which Gloom and Crimson wouldn't or couldn't answer, so you've come over to ask them yourself."

Vivid wiped some sweat off her face, "I won't flit about the cloud, then. The ISND unit has been hyper-effective for its' small size. But what, in your opinion, does it still lack? What would allow you all to achieve even more?" 

'-I've had Gloom and Crimson's answers, now I'll get Prey's own-'

Prey shrugged, "Probably luck. I won't say more people, because look what happened with Lilly Blossom and Scenic Paint. If the Night Guard as a whole increased in size further, that would help quite a bit, though." He answered, carefully shifting her attention away from the ISND.

Her notched ear tilted to the side, "The Night Guard has just recently expanded. Or do you mean even further?"

"Yes, further. The Royal Guard still has many more bodies than the Night Guard does. With more Night Guards, it would mean more hooves to spread over more tasks. Then, some of those tasks that are being relegated to us, the ISND, can be accomplished by other units just fine." Prey said. It was a generic, safe answer, adding: "Of course, everything is up to Captain Nighthawk, ma'am." 

Meaning; 'We don't need or want your help, you'll just make everything worse, and Nighthawk's already tried, so keep your nose out of our business'.

Prey didn't care if Vivid thought she was breaking new ground and trying to be helpful, Nighthawk and the other Lieutenants had already mentioned all this before, and he hadn't wanted anything to do with their suggestions then either. He didn't care for anything Vivid Edge might suggest, Lieutenant or not. But he smiled anyways.

The scarred mare didn't quite catch all of that hidden meaning in Prey's words, but she wasn't unintelligent. In other words, Prey's answer to her question was; "there's little more you can do to help".

'-I picked up a lot on our mission, but back here in Canterlot, everything's back to being different again. Like dealing with those nobles. Different circumstances, with different skills and needs-', Vivid thought, her mind turning towards how they all served Luna to the best of their capabilities, however different they may be.

"Lieutenant Screech spoke of how you gave some crash-course training to the new Night Guards while we were away in... just 'away'. You did quite well at it too. Is giving more such condensed, I believe the term would be 'lectures', something you think you would be capable of on other topics too, Prey?" She asked. 

Not 'will you', but 'can you', because if he could, then he was only an order away from that becoming 'you will'. At the end of the day, or rather night, he was still a subordinate, and she his superior.

"I don't really know what I could further teach anyone. All I'm good at is paperwork." Prey answered. Paperwork, runes, and murder.

"Wrong. If that were all, you would not have achieved all you already have." Vivid Edge disagreed bluntly.

"No, that is literally how I noticed something was off and followed it up into finding out about our spy problem. Paperwork. If it's anything else to do with being a Night Guard, I'm afraid you're better off asking someone better qualified, ma'am." Prey politely disagreed back. He was not going to be teaching anyone else anything more if he had any say in the matter.

Vivid Edge studied him for a minute out of her one yellow eye, eyepatch covering the other, "We'll see. Who knows? Perhaps more lectures on paperwork are actually what we need to learn." She mused, referring to herself and the newer thestrals.

'-Luna knows that we all hate it though. That liaison officer is an unholy pain in my flank too-'

"If that is what you think is best, ma'am, then I'll do so." He replied, re-tying his ribbon. But not a second before the order came.

Not that he really cared. The aggravation he felt at the idea of having to again talk before all those unknown strangers wasn't as bad as before. It seemed a lacklustre problem now, lesser than it ever had been.

"If we decide it's needed, then yes." Vivid nodded. She rolled her neck, done with her break and ready to go back to join in the unpleasant exercise and training. However,  she wasn't done asking Prey all she wanted to just yet, either. So she lingered to get the answers she sought.

"Why were you chosen by Princess Luna, Prey? Sargent Gloom briefly mentioned something about it, that you were hoof-picked, the same as Crimson." She looked down on him, waiting for his answer.

Prey smiled brightly, and lifted his forehooves to show her the two golden bands. "There's no need to flit about the cloud." He said, quoting the turn of phrase back to her.

"Captain Nighthawk, or the Lieutenants, or anyone else who was there must've told you Crimson and I were both criminals. Our posting in the ISND is a second chance. A chance graciously granted to us by Her Majesty in return for our loyal service."

There was no way Vivid wouldn't have known. She was a Lieutenant even if she was new to the scene, and would've been filled in on every aspect of the Night Guard. Why had she even asked? To see if Prey would deny it? Or try to talk around the subject instead? Maybe to see if he was properly thankful to Luna?

Vivid studied him for a long moment more, thoughts not revealing much of anything solid to as she was focused on a feeling, not thinking a decision through. Still, he picked out enough to get the feeling that they were both thinking of different things in this conversation. Finally, she just gave him a nod:

"You've done the Night Guard and Princess Luna great service. I don't doubt you'll do even greater in the future. Oh, and that medal is nothing to be ashamed of. Neither are your scars."

'-Gloom said how difficult his job was. I see a bit of what he meant. Still, I don't really understand. There is a lot here still to learn-'

Prey wordlessly smiled after her and tipped his head in goodbye. Ashamed? Ashamed of a medal he didn't care in the slightest for? And ashamed of his scars? He assumed she meant the mostly obscured but still obvious poison burns on his face, and didn't know about his whip scars. Because if it was the latter and someone had told her, he would be angry. Probably angry. If he could stir up enough embers to kindle properly the anger, that is.

'Not that it matters. I can do nothing about it either way. It doesn't matter.' Prey repeated to himself. He firmly fixed his smile, and reluctantly got up to re-join the training.

He really should've kept moving in place, because the next five minutes on the track were utterly miserable on his legs.


---///O\\\---


More lengths of time passed at their own unchanging speed, more nights and days cycled by. 

A sun, a moon, a sun, a moon. A night of work and day of sleep, reversed breakfast and dinners, cold nights frosting the air with your breath, and leaves turning from yellowing orange to golden brown and just brown.

It wasn't that long, not really. Only a week and a couple of days. Seconds, minutes, and hours going round on the clock, two rotations for a day and a night.

Prey went with Crimson to work every evening, and returned in the early afternoon, sometimes with Gloom, sometimes with just Crimson. He walked, and worked, and slept, and smiled. Smile for everyone who's looking. Smile and whatever you do, don't look in the mirror.

Garrow and Snake took turns periodically whispering in his ear when he was not on guard. Taffy blathered on about the upcoming Nightmare Night Guard party they were supposed to be attending. Lemon Pink and Randy Pickaxe were progressing glacially in their stilted and rather one sided relationship. There were scandals in the paper about more nobles, and other news of vital importance to Equestria. 

Nationally, very few ponies actually knew about their new strained relationship with Griffonia. Or perhaps most just didn't care. What impact did those griffin savages have on their peaceful everyday life under Celestia's smiling sun? None!

The dates and daily crossword puzzles in the newspapers ticked up one by one, signalling the passing of days. The vapid and substanceless content of their articles never failed to disappoint Prey into feeling nothing. There was barely any point to even trying to read them. It didn't matter if he did or didn't, so he might as well read them anyways. And was still vaguely disappointed every time. Not by the newspapers necessarily, but rather by everything. It didn't matter, though.

Life wasn't about living anymore. It was about surviving.

Smile. 


---\\\O///---


"Did you pack the mustard jar, Spot?" Carton asked, delicately rummaging in the picturesque picnic basket with one massive hoof.

"I, uh, I'm pretty sure I did?" Scenic answered uncertainly, pausing in slicing the loaf.

"Well I don't see-Aha! Never mind, found it. I got it mixed up with the honey."

"So one tomato, mustard, lemon grass, and cheddar sandwich coming right up."

A picnic. One of Canterlot's pristine parks. A honeycomb-patterned blanket over wonderfully green grass. Bright sun, all overhead clouds cleared away to the horizon. One of the last few opportunities for a picnic before it got too chilly even at midday.

A mare and a stallion doing what pony sweethearts did, taking an outing in nice weather, to somewhere warm and safe, with food easily to hoof, and each other for company. 

Nothing grand and romantic like clouds spelling out both their names in a huge heart, or a five-star restaurant at the Rose Garden, but more normal, realistic, solid. The sort of dates you could go on again and again, where your expectations were normal, and you could really just be with your opposite. Memories of heart-shaped clouds and lovey-dovey besotted romance fade. It's the time you spend together that really counts.

Will you still love them when they're thirty years old? Thirty-five? Forty? Time passes for everyone, and with it so does one's own mortality. When they're old, and starting to forget, when they have trouble walking, when they get sick and feeble, will you still love them then? 

If the answer is "No", and you cannot work through it to turn that answer into a "Yes", then it's not love. Merely infatuation.

Looks, health, memory, those all fade. Money can be lost, houses can burn, circumstances can change on a coin flip. Only the real sort of love can stand the test of time.

"Aaaand, done. Your sandwich, honey." Scenic said, slapping the top slice of bread on and pushing the plate across to the much larger earth pony.

"Oh, thanks. Remember I told you about how Cherry came by yesterday?" Carton asked, eating nearly half the sandwich in one bite.

"Uh-uh." Scenic agreed, starting on creating his own sandwich.

"She and the other girls at the beekeepery-"

"-I'm ninety percent sure that's not a real word."

"Shush. Anyway, they're putting on a going-away party for Heather Weather, you know? She's the one with the purple mane. Anyway, we're going to be doing a small party, and it's going to be Nightmare Night themed, since it'll be so close anyway. Pumpkin carving, fancy dress, spooky cakes, all that."

"Uh-uh." Scenic repeated to show he was listening, rummaging in the basket.

"So I thought; why don't we take Lilly along? I know you've got that work party too, and I'm sure Lilly's also invited to that as well, but if we have Heather Weather's party early enough, say, afternoon time, we could go to both. Two parties in one night. How does that sound? You up for it?"

"Oh, uh, I guess? I, I don't really fancy staying late into the night for the Guard party, but yeah. I don't see why we couldn't go to both. Taffy's organising it, so I'm sure it'll be great."

"Wonderful!" Carton Juice beamed, and swallowed the rest of her sandwich in one go, "Now, what are we going to go dressed as? Matching costumes? Part of a pair? Themed? Not themed at all? What'll it be?"


---


"Do you know those two ponies, Lemon?" Randy asked, shifting on their shared bench.

Lemon Pink turned uninterestedly away from the earth pony couple sitting on their picnic blanket in the middle of the park, "No."

"Oh. Uh, never mind then." Randy ducked his head, returning to his own sandwiches. Overhead, the oaks faintly rustled, the occasional brown leaf drifting down around them.

His job gardening in the park was very busy for Randy at the moment, as he'd just been telling Lemon:

"Everypony's working hard, there's loads to do to get the park ready for winter. There's hundreds of bulbs to plant every day, mulch to lay, compost beds to build up, digging out shrubs before their roots set in, transplanting the winter flowers, protecting the ones you can't, raking up the mountains of leaves, pruning the dead branches, all that good stuff. And weeding! There's always more weeding to do no matter what season it is. There's lots to do, but everypony's been kind and shown me the ropes." 

The more the park gardeners did now in the autumn, the less onerous the work would be come springtime. Randy liked his job, even if it was hard work at the moment, and as stereotypical and outdated of a view it was that he, an earth pony, ended up working with plants and mud even after moving here to Canterlot, it was nevertheless true that he still personally found it fulfilling. 

Half the reason Randy had wanted to move to Canterlot so badly was to get away from those traditional expectations, but once here, he'd ended up following those traditions anyway, and liking his job too.

Lemon had flatly pointed out in her calm way the irony of that.

Randy had sheepishly ducked his head and shrugged helplessly. What can you do? He was a simple pony, and simple happiness was enough for him, even if it came in a form he'd at first dismissed.

Lemon had also just as calmly pointed out the error in his thinking that Canterlot was a paragon of progressive thinking. It might be called the City of Invention but it was paradoxically also the most entrenched in adherence to its traditions.

He'd been confused, until she'd explained that Canterlot was the oldest pony city, literally the New Unicornia, modelled after the old, and thus firmly rooted in history. She'd laid out the ingrained traditions that history brought, the noble bloodlines and the upper crust's stranglehold on land, government, politics, and the like. The mere existence of Upper Canterlot meant there was also a Lower Canterlot, and how the bulk of the population of Canterlot were unquestionably unicorns. Cloudsdale was nearby, but that was a separate equation in and of itself.

"I, I didn't think about it like that." Randy admitted shamefacedly. Lemon Pink had just shrugged, razor-straight mane rising and falling with the motion, and said it meant little to them, the common pony. Life went on day to day. There was no point feeling guilt over something so utterly out of their control and that they had no power to change. They just lived here.

But regardless of all that, the point was that despite his busy job at the moment, Randy still religiously came every lunch break to the bench to meet with Lemon, and she came by on the days when she was able.

Lemon lit her sharp horn to lift the book she'd set facedown on the bench to hold its place, but then hesitated.

"Randy Pickaxe, I am available on Nightmare Night. There will be various festivities being held throughout Canterlot. I am able to attend if you want to go." She stated, not asked.

"Wa?" Randy coughed, thumping his spotted chest to swallow his bite, "As in, you're saying you'll go if I want to go, but if I don't want to, then you're not going to go by yourself?"

"Yes."

"I, I would like yes-Hang on, do you actually even want to go?"

"Not particularly."

He blinked, his ears dropping slightly, "If you don't want to go to Nightmare Night, uh, why are you saying you'll go with me?"

"I said I don't particularly care about Nightmare Night. It is not a festival focused towards the night time and stars as I would prefer, but rather one towards a defeated demoness. Yet even that is no longer true, all the cautionary elements of the tale have been removed and replaced with celebration and excessive amounts of sugar. The way they celebrate the night beyond the border is very different to here." Lemon made a very deliberate flick with her hoof, as if brushing something distasteful off her pink fur:

"Regardless of that though, I do not care to attend the festivities alone. However, I would instead be agreeable to attending the festivities with you." She finished, calmly laying out her logic.

Randy actually started to blush, "I'd, uh, I'd love to go with you, thanks Lemon."

Lemon nodded imperceptibly, like she was thinking very hard about her next carefully spoken words, "Yes. And I... I would love the opportunity to go with you, too."

"Great. So, uh, where d'you want to meet?"

"At the Lullaby Clocktower, west side, next to the canal on the path. Find the little anchor pedestal. Seven-fifteen sharp. Don't be late." Lemon immediately rattled off.

"Umm, can I have that one more time please? A bit slower?"


---///O\\\---


What Lemon Pink saw and knew, Prey saw and knew. And what Prey saw and knew, Lemon Pink mostly knew. Some things weren't safe for her to know, literally not safe, but those few things didn't really matter, as Prey was never going to let them become important. 

Lemon was finally making moves to become her own person, making personality decisions, such as this one. It had taken too long, and Prey had meant to both allow and push her towards this before, but other things had kept coming up, and he'd kept delaying, but now it was happening.

At the time, before his test, Prey hadn't been able to banish all his paranoia. Despite everything, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary, and despite unequivocally knowing better, he still hadn't been able to completely root out the creeping paranoia clinging to his heart. Now though, it wasn't as important anymore.

Lemon Pink was slowly developing an adult personality? Okay. She was hesitantly and haltingly pursuing a relationship with an earth pony? Okay. That was fine. It hardly even mattered to Prey anymore. So he smiled, and said nothing from the sidelines.

More days, more hours, more minutes. All will pass in time.


---\\\O///---


One more event of importance in the passing of Prey's story of life. It would not have been important in the slightest to most other people, but perhaps of extreme importance to a select few.

Up above, on one of the streets in Lower Canterlot, Prey just happened to have exited an old bookstore. He'd been listlessly browsing the magic section inside, looking for anything old that might have references to dark magics, which might've slipped between the cracks and not been censored. It wouldn't have been the first time that exact series of events had occurred in Equestria's history. 

It was that type of bookstore too, out of the way, verging on ancient, stuffed with many old, one of a kind, hoof written autobiographies and the like. Which wasn't to say they were good memoirs.

In fact, they were all, to a fault, self-aggrandizing, disjointed, second thought scribblings. There was nothing in the bookstore matching Prey's criteria. Lethargically, he'd flipped through one age-yellowed book, then the next, and found nothing. 

He was tired. He'd finished his Guard shift at the Palace, and now this was extra. Still, it was on his and Lemon's schedule to check such bookstores as this one. For that reason, he was doing so. Even if he didn't feel like it.

But there was nothing in here. Which wasn't really a surprise. Was it good he hadn't found anything? That meant he didn't have to do anything, since there was nothing to act on. This task felt so lifeless, but it was on his schedule, and Prey knew it was important and needed to be done. So he put on a smile, and did it.

Do it. Done it. Did it. But that had still left nothing to show for it at the end. Prey was tired. He wanted to go back to his flat and sleep. And that's exactly what he had been about to do. 

He'd just slipped back out the way he came in, avoiding the doddering unicorn store owner's notice, when the jolt came.

Prey's head reflexively jerked his head to the left, the side which his ribbon hung from. 

He ignored the ponies out book shopping up and down this street, instead staring through them as if they weren't there, looking off at an angle and down towards a point under the city's foundations. He couldn't see through brick and cobble, but he knew unerringly where he was looking. Not down in the winding crystal cave system, but beneath to the tunnels of Canterlot's sewer system instead. A silent alarm bell of runes had been rung.

Prey was tired, but he wasn't going back to the flat anymore now.


---


Prey took the careful approach through the sewers, only using tunnels which were sufficiently secured by runic trap arrays at each end, and slowly making his way deeper towards the Sewer's Heart. 

It was dark and clammy, and the hex in the air sought to get inside his head at every opportunity, watching from the shadows and approaching when his back was turned. Prey didn't give the formless curse of the hex any purchase, and it slipped off him like water off a duck's back. 

In the end, Prey didn't need to go the whole way down into the Sewer's Heart. He came to a shallowly submerged tunnel, the crystal lantern he carried on his back reflecting off the rippling water's dark surface. He stepped down with a splash into the cold water, and slimy cold wickerwatch tendrils immediately brushed against his submerged hooves.

The wickerwatch was not sentient. It was most closely related to a water plant, with a few key differences. It was not aware, did not think or feel pain. Like all plants, all it did was grow and duplicate. With the exception of those few key differences.

Prey heaved up one of the wickerwatches' rubbery tendrils, the plant surprisingly heavy once it left the water, and wrapped it firmly around one hoof. He got a better grip, and once he was satisfied it was wrapped securely enough not to float free if he put his hoof back down, did so. Then he closed his eyes and focused.

Disorientation. Swirling water all around. Darkness. Flowing bubbles. Foreign touch. Alien, other-

Prey wrenched the unthinking existence to his will. And like the willow tree in the wind, it bent to his will, but not because the wind was mightier, rather because it was simply the way of the tree.

It was a long wait for Prey, almost three quarters of an hour. Comparatively, it wasn't actually that long considering the expansiveness of Canterlot's sewers. It was actually a sign of just how far and how thickly the wickerwatch had spread. And also how far his protected runic chokepoints hadn't. Which was why he wasn't venturing any further in, rather staying right here. But it was still forty-five minutes of waiting unmoving in the dark.

He had to stand there with the cold water numbing his hooves, the clammy smell of the sewers never fading, along with the constant annoying niggling of the curse trying to fruitlessly get into his head. Normally he could ignore something like that with ease, he was a mind leech after all, nothing got into his head without him knowing, not to mention it was his own curse running through the wickerwatch, but... 

But now it was tiring, and aggravating, and he didn't want to have to remember to even care about resisting.

*sloop-slosh* *sloop-slosh*

Distantly, the sound approached from down the tunnel. Prey stretched his stiff neck, even the lightweight lantern having worn heavy on his back by now, and turned in that direction.

*sloop-slosh* *sloop-slosh*

And into the pool of lantern light came wading one of Prey's wicker shamblers. It was not a sight you'd want to see in a dark alley. 

When you came down to it, it was visually for all intents and purposes, a wicker zompony. Dark, dripping wickerwatch tendrils trailed out from its underbelly, white sightless eyes stared at nothing, with the flesh and remaining fur having turned grey. Water dripped constantly off its body, even from its upper body well above the waterline, and tendons bulged wrongly beneath the skin. But for all that, there was no rot or decay.

It *sloop-slosh*ed through the water with a rocking, unnerving stride, but it wasn't as slow as it looked. It wasn't fast either, but it didn't stop or slow and could simply keep going. There was a divot in its' forehead. An indent where Prey had sawn the deceased unicorn's horn off. 

Unfortunately, Prey had yet to find a way to create a magic capable zompony, or rather wicker shambler.

Yet even so, Prey estimated that even with years to experiment and advance, he could never build a golem that could move even half as well as what he had right now. 

A huge attack scarecrow of his own all made out of blades sounded nice, but it would never work properly. Not without a murdered person acting as its base, at least. The way the approaching shambler could walk, balance itself, step over stones, right itself if it ever fell, compensate for the drag of the water, the thousand and one things which a person's body could manage, a true golem couldn't. It was why he'd stolen these bodies from the morgue. One of the reasons, anyway. With them, he didn't have to even try to build, he just added on his own bits and runes to what already worked.

Prey's smile, even worn down here all alone beneath the city, finally faded as he spied what the wicker shambler was bringing him, carried in its' too-wide jaws.

*sloop-slosh* 

With the final slosh, the shambler arrived in front of Prey, dark wickerwatch tendrils trailing behind it. In its jaws, the torn end covered with a dark green crust, was a huge insectlike leg, the size of a pony's. 

The thick black chitin was broken and splintered around the end where the wicker shambler had torn it off its' owner. A pony's jaws were not made to bite and tear. But this was not a pony, not any longer. In appearance and size it was, but that was it. No equine had ever possessed the bear trap teeth Prey had implanted into it, for example.

Prey recognised the leg. He'd seen the like once before, on the dead body of Shimmer. A mimic's leg, the green ichor dried and crusted, but utterly unmistakable. The mimic had managed to get away, obviously, but only at the sacrifice of a limb. Could it maybe shapeshift and heal that? Prey didn't know. There was so much he didn't know about the mimics.

What he did know was they'd tried, and utterly failed, to sneak into his crystal lair. He'd assumed they'd given up even trying, and pulled back completely from the caves he'd claimed as his own.

Now though, it seemed they were exploring the sewers instead. 

'What a pain. There's so much of the sewers I don't have covered. And now I'm not going to risk going into those areas to place runes either. Now I just have to stick with what I have to be safe. What a pain.' Prey thought to himself. He knew it was annoying, dangerous even, the way the mimics were pushing in and snatching up unclaimed ground, but to be honest, he was struggling to care.

That was a distant problem. He knew that attitude was wrong, hell, he even despised it, but it was still true. He just didn't care enough about it. But this leg right here was before him now.

Prey's jaw tightened as he looked at the chitinous limb. He'd originally meant to take Shimmer's body to study, back in the ravine, but the other mimics had retrieved it first and cleansed the area. A priceless opportunity, stolen. Prey had so dearly wanted a fresh mimic corpse. Half a torn off leg was a poor trade, but Prey wasn't about to say no. 

All those questions about the mimics, perhaps here was an unexpected chance to answer a few of his questions. Not about the mimics' motivations, plans, or tactics, but maybe something about their biology and, dare he hope, their shapeshifting magic. Prey could learn an awful lot from a corpse. Just look at what was holding the ripped off leg for him.

Prey didn't feel any culpability or guilt for the violence and agony his wicker shambler had inflicted. The mimics were his enemies. And more than that, he really didn't care.

'Hmm. Part of a leg is better than nothing. Maybe I can learn something. Too bad most of the blood has drained and I'll bet all the ambient magic has faded too. But it's something at least.'

Prey smiled. It was the exact same smile he'd been wearing before, and in the book store, and this morning, and working in the office, and eating in the mess hall, and filing his reports, in leaving his flat yesterday evening, and waking up. A simple, rather pleasant, and mildly friendly smile. The exact same one. 

So he smiled at the severed leg. He smiled and took it off his wicker shambler. He smiled as crusted ichor brushed off in his wool. He smiled as he took the leg down to his lair. He even smiled as he was disappointed by what he found when he put it inside a scanning array. But it was still a smile.

A smile that meant absolutely nothing. 


---///O\\\---


False string cobwebs had been strung. 

Stockpiles of candy and sweets had been bought by everyone. 

Fancy-dress costumes were finally sewn, along with the perfect witches' hat finally being found. 

Paper lanterns had been hung in long chains between street lamps. 

Foals were juddering with impatient excitement just waiting for the night to come, and in some cases, adults were just as excited. 

Pumpkins had been carved, either with smiles or leers depending on the tastes of the carving pony. 

Haunted houses (but not too scary), were prepped and ready. The festivities were almost here! 

The pony population of Equestria waited for Nightmare Night with the excited anticipation one holds when looking forwards to their birthday. It was a time of laughter, trying to jump-scare your friends, dressing up, and inducing stomachache and rotten teeth via sugar overdose. To them, it was all that, but not a frightening time of remembrance and wariness. It was a celebration!

Some few in Equestria still remembered what the night really stood for, the thestrals, perhaps the tiny clawful of resident griffins, and maybe a very select few others. They did not look forwards to Nightmare Night with glee and celebration, but something else.

Irrespective of all that, whether it was anticipated with excitement or something else, Nightmare Night finally arrived.


---\\\O///---


The night was finally here. The night of the ridiculous Nightmare Night party at the Palace. The common gardens had been properly decorated up in order to fit the night's theme, and as the evening came and the sun sank, opened up for the Palace staff attending.

"~Pumpkin, pumpkin, shining bright. Jack-o-lantern, flitter fright!" Dressed up foals chanted in the streets, shrieking with laughter and cheap scares.

"Nightmare night, what a fright, give me something sweet to bite!~"

Prey plodded along behind Gloom and Crimson in the last orange rays of sunlight. Up ahead, tall and magnificent, the towering structure of the Palace waited, lit with hundreds of glowing lanterns. There was already a steady stream of staff trotting ahead of them, and in through the garden entrance, which had been opened up, a Royal Guard and his partner with a list were checking people in.

Past the checkpoint and into the common gardens, large open tents and marquees had been set up, lit with yet more multicolour lanterns and appropriate decorations. Tables, stalls laden with foods, drinks, pies, and cakes, all tended to by laughing ponies in costume. Some unicorn or unicorns had a small scale illusion going overhead, very unrealistic transparent red and yellow bats and spiders floating overhead. Fake cauldrons leaked constant rainbow coloured mist, and some sort of low music was on repeat in the background beneath the chatter.

"Prey, are you alright?"

Prey glanced aside, and up to find Gloom's yellow thestral eyes looking down at him with some concern. It was completely unrelated, but Prey noted yet again how those slitted orbs caught and reflected the light in a slightly ominous way that really fitted with tonight. Crimson had also stopped at Gloom's question, and was also waiting to hear Prey's answer. None of them had bothered wasting time dressing up.

Prey smiled at them both, "I'm fine."

That wasn't going to work, Prey immediately knew. Swiftly he added, "Alright, I can't really say I'm looking forwards to this, all these people and socializing, but otherwise I'm fine."

Gloom's frown stayed. '-that's not right. Or rather, that's not all of it. At least I don't think it is-'

"Are you sure you're fine, Prey?" Crimson asked what Gloom was thinking.

Prey shrugged, ears flopping with the motion, still smiling, "Six of one, half a dozen of the other. It's fine, we're here now, let's satisfy Taffy."

Through the decorated entrance way into the garden venue, he could just about make out some other Night Guards. It wasn't hard, it was the group of yellow eyed, dark furred, bat winged thestrals standing on their own off to the side, with nearly everyone else avoiding them.

Prey blinked and refocused when he realised Gloom and Crimson were still looking at him. They didn't seem convinced, even when he smiled wider. Actually, that just seemed to worry them more. Why? It was fine. This was all fine. None of it mattered, so it was fine. Why were they worrying?

'-he's been like this for... how long has it been? When did Crimson first draw my attention to it? Why did I not notice earlier?-', Gloom asked himself.

They'd been talking about him behind his back? Actually, Prey didn't feel even any minor betrayal. So what? He didn't care, and Crimson could say and do whatever he pleased.

Crimson shifted closer to Gloom, leaning over to mutter into the other stallion's tufted ear when it obediently swivelled. Crimson wasn't trying to prevent Prey from hearing, because just as he knew his own eyesight was far superior, they all knew Prey's ears were superior. No, it was to stop any of the other ponies heading into the venue from overhearing:
"Sir, Prey should come with us afterwards. After everything, he has the right to come."

"I'm not on duty." Gloom automatically responded, before properly even hearing Crimson's words. He agreed though, "Yes. I, yes he should come. I can't think that anypony would question it. He's not a thestral, but he's a Night Guard. That means a different thing nowadays."

'-Prey should come. I want Prey to come. And if nothing else, my special talent isn't telling me it's the wrong path to take-'

"Prey," Gloom directly addressed him, drawing his attention yet again away from the Guard duo checking the arrivals, "After this whole event is finished, please stick around with us. There's another event, at midnight. You should come."

Prey didn't care. "Alright, I'll come." He smiled.

Gloom and Crimson exchanged more looks. However, they evidently decided whatever was bothering them could wait a bit longer. They'd come here tonight for the party, or if they were being honest, because Taffy would go on and on at them if they didn't attend after she and the other organizers had put in all this effort.

"Well, we're here already. Let's go in." Gloom said quietly, squaring his shoulders and stepping up to the arched gate:

"Gloom, Crimson, and Prey, of the ISND." He announced them.

'-I haven't forgotten who you are, punk-', The Guard with the list thought, eye twitching. He was a Royal Guard, and was evidently still sore at the Night Guard even after all this time.

However the other Royal Guard wasn't willing to jeopardize his own performance while on duty by being snide, "In you go." He said gruffly, waving them through.

Inside the gardens, the chatter, laughter, changing lights, and the scents of baked goodies filled the early night air, all that much closer and more real now that they were inside. 

Taffy really seemed to have thought of everything. Set up under the better lantern-lit open sided tents, or sometimes simply in the open, there was apple bobbing, mystery pies, horseshoe toss, lucky dips, various craft tables, a cake competition, pumpkin carving, a unicorn performing magic tricks, and some other Nightmare Night themed stalls he couldn't immediately identify the purpose of. 

Prey noted that there was even a children's area off to the side for staff who had to bring along their foals tonight, set up with a few minders and games. He shifted until he was walking along by Crimson's left, putting a body between him and the young foals.

He decided his whole goal tonight was to get through the night, and then go back to the flat to sleep. Tomorrow was their one day of the week off. Prey began methodically lining up things in his head he needed to do tomorrow, even if he didn't feel any motivation.

'Boil up more bone rot. Reinforce the safe chokepoints in the sewers with more runes. Don't overdo it and exhaust myself again. Inform Lemon to be on the lookout for more electrite to steal. Don't get caught. Eat and drink enough. Get enough sleep. Check the pincushion. Stay away from the sinkhole. Make sure Crimson is stocked up. Don't look in any mirrors. Find a reason to-'

"Gloomy! Yoohoo. Gloomy and co! You made it in the end." Taffy appeared out of the crowd from nowhere, somehow sensing their arrival within seconds.

"Hey, where's all your costumes? This is a fancy-dress party! You can't come without fancy dress, that's like having hay fries without ketchup. Let's get you three all costumed up and ready to party."

Prey turned along with the other two as Taffy hurried up, customary big grin already in place. She was dressed in a sparkling purple witches outfit, frizzy orange curls spilling out from underneath the straining hat, with a hole for her horn. Prey had seen real witches and voodoo witches, and they wore nothing of the sort.

"No thanks." Gloom hastily denied.

"But it's the festive time of year, it's made for dressing up, and it's what everypony's doing." Taffy smugly cajoled, grabbing her witches' hat when it threatened to explode off under the pressure of containing her frizzy mane.

Crimson shook his head, "I didn't want to, nor do we have any such disguises, and so I haven't. Besides, we're here now."

Meaning, 'It's too late and you can't make us dress up now'. As if such pitiful logic would stop the mare.

"No problemo! We've got a box of spare fancy dress set aside just for this circumstance in case guests came under dressed. I insist. You'd make a great pirate Gloom, ooh, no, a vampony and Crimson can be the pirate." Taffy blithely said as she pulled a stiff Gloom in the direction of a tent, completely bypassing in her cheeriness what suggesting a thestral be a vampire because of the fangs might've indicated.

"There's no need-" Gloom tried.

"Nope! Everypony here's going to party in fancy dress, it said so on the guest invites. And all the other thestrals are in fancy dress too, so there." 

Translation, thestrals took guest rights and being a good guest very seriously. As such, Taffy had pigeonholed them into doing what she wanted because she was one of the hosts. The thing was, she was aware of this and had manipulated it to be so on purpose.

'-I knew they'd all try that. Ha! Taffy one, thestrals nil-'

Briefly, a flicker in the back of Prey head reminded him of that pink pony from the night he didn't think about. The one who should be dead. She'd jumped out of nowhere into a situation she didn't have a hoof on, expected her blind exuberance to carry her through, and gotten a dagger through the jaw. Taffy and the Bearer of Laughter linked briefly in Prey's head, before he buried the worthless memory.

Nothing had changed. Those who should be dead were alive, and those who should have lived were dead. It was meaningless to linger over it. Feeding the ever-burning spark of anger might keep you warm, but it also burnt you at the same time. Sometimes heat was what you needed no matter the hurt, and sometimes you'd prefer to give into the numbing cold of the black ice.

"...And I mean, just look at Prey. Why, he'll make an excellent cat! Let's get him a collar with a bell, along with that nice ribbon and a few fake whiskers, and he'll be adorable." Prey tuned back in to hear Taffy say as they arrived at the tent.

"No."

"Aww c'mon Prey. You'll be the best dressed foal tonight, I promise."

"No."

Taffy huffed, magically grabbing out a cat bell on a collar from an open crate of garish costumes, "You need to wear something, so why not this? Live a little, you're only young once."

"N-"

"Pretty please? With sugar on top?" The bell tinkled brightly as Taffy shook the oversized cat collar. It was the exact item she'd been talking about. She'd obviously known the prop was sitting in the box already. She'd thought about this. Another collar to go with the golden pair resting on his forelegs.

Prey looked Taffy dead in the eye and repeated slowly and clearly for the last time, "No."

Crimson cleared his throat, "I am now dressed. I mean, I have a costume. Can I go now?"

Crimson had donned a wide black hat, with a stuffed parrot toy stuck to the brim. He'd grabbed the first and easiest thing he could from the crate, simply to satisfy Taffy, and now she couldn't claim he hadn't at least tried.

"That's... very nice. How about the rest of the pirate outfit to go with it? There's an eye patch, a cutlass, and a sash somewhere at the very least." She tried. Crimson wasn't swayed.

"I am now in fancy dress. Am I not?" He asked blankly.

'-actually, I should probably not push them so much. It's nice that they've come, and they've had a hard enough time as it is-', Taffy thought, suddenly remembering and feeling guilty.

"Yeah, you know what? That's good enough Crimson. Tell you guys what, you two also grab something, and then I'll take you over to where Scenic and his marefriend Carton are hanging out."

Gloom blinked and looked up from gingerly poking at the crate of costumes with a wing claw, "Scenic beat us here already?"

'-and by Luna's starry mane, can she actually remember all the ponies here tonight by name? How?-'

"Did they bring Lilly along with them too?" Gloom asked.

Taffy's grin dimmed somewhat, "No, I haven't seen her tonight. I gave Scenic an invite to hoof to her, but sadly I don't think she's coming tonight."

Was that supposed to be a surprise? Because Prey definitely wasn't. Even though you could've looked at this night as being the perfect time for Lilly to go out in public without needing to cover up, she certainly wouldn't see it that way. Lilly thought she was resilient, and although she was putting in the effort, she really wasn't. She'd see tonight as a mocking reminder of how hideous she looked. A monster out for the night with all the pretend monsters who, coming morning, would be normal again.

Prey didn't feel anything about that. The bitter annoyance from Taffy's humiliating suggestion had already faded back into grey apathy. He eyed the tent exit, where outside the bulk of the invited ponies were now arriving en-masse, all wearing fancy dress too. Prey didn't particularly want to remain in here with Taffy, but he also didn't really want to go back out there.

He decided it would be best just to copy Crimson and make a token effort. He looked around the overflowing crate for another hat.

There. That'd do. 

Prey snagged the first hat within reach, another witches' hat, gave it a cursory check for anything dangerous like poisoned needles in the brim, and jammed it down on his head. It was meant for an adult and was too big, resting only right above his eyes, but he meant to discard it as soon as he was out of Taffy's sight anyways.

"There. I'm ready. Happy?" He announced. He smiled as he said it too for extra effect. Taffy, unlike the other two, seemed to buy it. 

"I'm set as well." Gloom swiftly chimed in, donning the first article of fancy dress to hoof. A waistcoat thing with cog wheels and designs and a truly huge fake pocket watch. Outnumbered, and her objections technically satisfied, Taffy decided to give in with good grace:

"That's wonderful. Now, you wanted to meet up with Scenic Paint and his beau, right? C'mon then, let's get you all reunited!" She declared brightly. Then, quickly grabbing her pointed hat again when it nearly slipped off, marched them out.

Finally.

Outside, the breath of night air which blew around the gardens was brisk. Even in the short time they'd been inside the open tent, its' roof had still trapped some heat, so when stepping outside into the lantern-lit night, the temperature came as something of a minor surprise. Prey supposed that's what all the cauldrons of soup, mugs of warm cider and hot cocoa, and still steaming pies on the tables and being served to whomever wanted them were for.

Wherever you looked around the paper and jack-o-lantern illuminated gardens, ponies were chatting, laughing, playing stupid games, eating, and getting into the swing of things.

Prey instinctively wanted to get away from all of it.

"This way." Taffy guided them.

Some of the ponies glanced at him in his oversized witches' hat. Some were surprised, some who were off duty Guards weren't. Prey smiled at any and all who met his eyes.

"Scenic, Scenic ye-no, look this way, yes. More to the left! No, your left. Over here!" Taffy called, energetically waving a hoof.

And there Scenic was indeed, along with his huge marefriend. Dwarfed by Carton, you actually needed to glance twice to spot the smaller earth pony sticking to her side. Scenic didn't like the night, he didn't like the dark, and he really didn't like sudden scares.

'Nightmare Night is not the night for him to be out and about, then. Bad things can happen on Nightmare Night.'

"Oh, uh, hello all." Scenic greeted nervously, giving a quick return wave.

Carton turned around, a cup of soup's handle looped over a hoof and wafting steam, "Who is-? Oh, happy Nightmare Night!" 

Carton Juice smiled happily as she spotted them. She was dressed up as, surprise-surprise, a giant bumble bee. A striped yellow and black knitted sweater, a headband with bouncy antenna, and a pair of stuck-on wings. Meanwhile Scenic was dressed as, surprise-surprise yet again, a beekeeper, with the mesh hat and long covering white coat. Obviously, Carton had insisted.

"Hello Scenic, and hello Carton." Crimson nodded seriously to them both.

Gloom and the rest of them exchanged greetings. Prey simply kept smiling at everyone and nothing, and waited. Let them talk. He was just here until he didn't have to be here any longer.

Shrieks of foals' laughter made him twitch and quickly look around. He shifted a couple of steps further away from the group of fancy-dressed children, who were engrossed in a puppet show of Celestia and Nightmare Moon. He watched them stuffing down candy from little carry buckets inbetween breathing, laughing, and utterly carefree. Innocent.

"Well I'm going to love you and leave you, I've got party obligations to run, but I'm sure we'll catch up more later," Taffy said in farewell, backing away, "Thank you all for coming once again. See ya'!"

Prey smiled blankly after her as she left, tracking her as she assimilated into the crowd, greeting nearly everyone she passed by name. That left the five of them in their own company. One could argue that Taffy's motives for doing so were slightly less than congenial for doing that.

Prey knew this was about to descend into awkward, stilted conversation. He knew it, but he didn't really care. It was just talk, and words didn't matter. But he was also hungry, and that was something he could solve, rather than standing around here idle. 

"I'm hungry. I'm going to get some food." Prey announced before anyone else could start trying to find anything to say, and walked away.

He was abandoning Crimson, but only a little bit. It was a pony party. There wasn't anything either of them could do, but to simply endure. And enduring this waste of time would be a lot easier if he wasn't hungry. He'd had very little appetite ever since... well, ever since. But that did not equal no hunger. There always was, and always would be, hunger. It was a simple truth. It was the truth. Never take your next meal for granted.

Prey had never forgotten what it was like to starve, and never dismissed free food.

So he smiled at all the food-stall tenders, and with his oversized hat and his innocent face, he got thick slices of pumpkin pie, gooseberry tart, a cup of butternut soup, and a candy apple on a stick. Although not all of them even noticed the lamb taking the food, him having approached from out of their line of sight when they were distracted.

The mare hoofing out plates of pie was too engrossed with chatting to someone she knew. The pony on soup duty was busy multitasking between that and eating his own pie. And the one attending the candy apples, mainly to make sure the foals didn't take more than one each, was looking in the wrong direction.

Actually, none of them noticed Prey taking the food. But if they had, he would've been smiling at them with his innocent face and annoying oversized floppy witches' hat anyways.

He checked for poison. He ate the pie, drank the soup, and bit into the candy apple. It was all so bland. It had taste, but it was just fuel to delay hunger. It was food, and there was plenty of it, and it was free, but that was all it was.

Prey slunk along, seeing the oblivious ponies happily munching away on their own pies and fresh pumpkin cookies, all thoroughly enjoying the night's refreshments. 'It's just me who finds it so unappetizing.'

Well, he'd already known that. And besides, it didn't matter. Once again, food was food, you ate because it was the only counter to hunger. Not even the overflowing buckets of sweets and candy were tempting anymore.

'It doesn't matter.'

Prey wove back through the laughing crowds and tents the way he'd come, returning to find Gloom and Crimson still with Scenic and Carton. They hadn't even moved from the spot. Carton seemed to be the one carrying the conversation, while Gloom politely made an effort, Scenic was nervous, and Crimson was just blankly observing the festivities. Technically, they didn't have to stay here together. They could each go their separate ways and do their separate things. There were other off-duty thestrals sticking to the edges who Gloom or Crimson could find, and plenty of normal ponies here for Scenic and Carton. Normal ponies were always looking to make friends with other normal ponies, after all.

Prey considered leaving again rather than try conversing with Carton and Scenic, but better the boredom you knew. He slipped back into the group, and it took Scenic and Carton a minute to even realise he was back.

"Gah!" Carton jumped, half snatching up Scenic who let out an undignified wheezing squeak, '-goodness! Didn't even see him there, almost gave me a fright, since tonight's Nightmare Night-'

"Oh, oh it's just you. Heh heh. Don't sneak up on me like that. I'm on tenterhooks waiting for the oogie boogie pony to jump out all night." Carton laughed, relaxing.

Prey smiled up at her. Still in his marefriend's grip, Scenic winced.

"Excuse me, the... what pony?" Crimson asked.

Scenic raised a hoof and opened his mouth, but Carton, not noticing him about to answer since he was still being crushed to her side, beat him to it:

"The oogie boogie pony, you know, from that foal's story? It gets told to all the foals every year. It's not even that scary, it's just what everypony says. You know, 'Watch out or Oogie Boogie will get you'?"

In another time, Prey would've been mildly surprised. Surprised at the pathetic, watered down, and pony-friendly level of the story. Only mildly. But now, not even that. He'd heard in passing around Canterlot and especially tonight the tales of Nightmare Moon the ponies told. Safe, trite, non-scary stories. About how she hungered for candy, how she gave nightmares which were chased away by the sun, how she hid in dark corners and jumped out to yell "Boo!"

And all this after earlier this very year, Nightmare Moon had sought to make a return to kill the entire world. And now they were telling children's stories about it?

How quick they were to forget the truth because it was uncomfortable.

"...And so Oogie Boogie waits under the bed, chuckling to himself. And Flower Petal, she hears him, and thinks to herself; 'By golly, that Oogie Boogie is hiding under my bed! I'd better-"

Carton was busy relating the "Oogie Boogie" story from her childhood. Gloom was enduring through it better, but Crimson really had that glazed, dead inside look in his eyes. He'd asked the question, but that hadn't been a request to have to suffer through a retelling. Carton Juice wasn't good at reading people raised in thestral clans though, and was taking Crimson's blank faced staring to be polite interest, and not speechless boredom.

Scenic wasn't paying enough attention to notice his marefriend's blunder either, sipping his cup of hot pumpkin soup, looking around at all the colourful lights and games, thinking that; '-I'm sorta' glad we came to this second party tonight in the end. It's much better than I thought it was going to be. Also, really not scary-'

"...and Oogie Boogie exclaims; 'Toadstools and frogs, I've been tricked!' And he rushes back out Flower Petal's bedroom door without a backwards glance-"

Prey put on a smile, and tuned her out. He waited for the time to pass.

Finally the rendition finished. Gloom paused for a second, "Thank you for that, Carton Juice. I haven't heard that foal's story before."

'-even as a foal, I would've fallen asleep listening to that-'

Crimson blinked, eyes unglazing as he returned to the present from wherever else he'd been, "Ah, yes. I hadn't heard that tale before either." He hastily thanked the mare, just in case she was in the mood to start telling another one.

"That's fine, I'm really not a good storyteller though. Although I think it really is strange you didn't have that foal's story back in you clans. Why's that do you suppose?" Carton hmm'd in thought.

At the mention of 'the clans' included in a question, Crimson and Gloom immediately went on alert, before catching themselves. Gloom settled back down, wing muscles relaxing as quickly as they'd tensed.

'-no, she's just asking, it doesn't mean anything. Besides, Scenic doesn't know anything sensitive, and even if he did, he knows better than to give away other ponies' secrets-'

"I don't know what you have heard, but while the thestral clans stayed separate from Equestria as a whole until Princess Luna's recent return, we still kept up with the political and economic happenings of Equestria. It allowed us to stay up to date." Gloom said, reciting the canned answer from memory. It was one he'd heard Lieutenant Starry Wing give to a Royal Guard officer when pressed.

"That's what I mean though, shouldn't you then also have those sorts of foal's tales? I thought they were pretty universal." Carton asked, the bee antenna headband bouncing as she tilted her head.

Gloom shook his head, "No, we had our own foal's tales. Still do, too. After listening to that, uh, thrilling story about the oogie boogie pony, I can't honestly say that they're similar either."

"Oh. I just thought, you know." Carton mumbled.

"So what did you have then? As a foal?" Scenic enquired.

"Fables." Crimson immediately stated.

"Yes, fables." Gloom echoed.

Carton was surprised, "Fables? Like, myths and legends? Those are the stories you tell foals? Hmm. I wouldn't have thought foals would listen to those kinds of sagas."

"No, no," Gloom quickly disagreed, "Not those sorts of fables. Fables as in, short stories to teach a moral, or a principle at the end. Like the greedy fox who ate the bear's stash, and was then too fat to slip back out again. Or about the cloud who wanted to be a stormcloud and rained himself all away."

"Stories with an actual point at the end." Crimson added, a tad bluntly even for him.

Carton shuffled her massive hooves self-consciously, "Oh. Oh right. I didn't think, well, it's just the oogie boogie story, and..." 

The mare had gotten a lot more comfortable with the different culture Gloom and Crimson came from, and sometimes Prey saw her even forget that they weren't just the same as the next pony. Something she probably meant as a compliment, and not the insult it conveyed. But still, at times, like right now, her old unease would return full-force and she couldn't look Gloom or Crimson in their yellow eyes.

Carton glanced around hastily for a distraction, her gaze settling on Prey, "Well how about you, Prey? Did you hear all of those stories in your village? I bet they're some of the same as here. I think you said your home is in a village off on the border somewhere, right?"

Prey smiled, and answered, "As I've said before, we did things slightly differently on the border. That also includes our Nightmare Night tales." He said with sweet innocence.

In a moment of blindness, Carton responded in surprise, "Wait, you've not heard of the oogie boogie story before now either? What did they teach you as foals?"

"They taught us to bar the windows and doors on Nightmare Night, and to leave at least one corncob on the doorstep for each person sheltering inside." Prey told her.

Carton blinked in surprise, the bouncy bee antenna really adding to the ridiculous effect, "What? Corn? What about corn?" She asked, just as Prey had known she would.

"The crow pony story. I thought you'd have heard of it, since it's pretty universal. What? You mean to tell me you don't leave a corncob outside your door on Nightmare Night?" Prey returned innocently.

Carton shook her head, looking interested, "I haven't. How does it go?"

"I haven't heard that tale either." Crimson put in.

"You want to hear it?" Prey asked.

"Sure." Gloom shrugged, Crimson and Carton joining in with agreeing.

"Uh, I'm not so sure I want to hear it. I don't, I don't like those sort of scary stories." Scenic said, eyeing Prey.

'-no thank you to any scary story Prey's gonna' tell. I don't wanna' hear it-'

"Shh, let Prey tell his story. It's only polite." Carton quickly hushed her coltfriend, before smiling brightly at Prey again, "Go on, we're all listening."

"Um, no, seriously. I'm good." Scenic tried again.

"Whyever not?" Carton asked in bafflement.

"Because, uh, because..." Scenic winced, looked at Prey, flinched, and looked at his hooves. His throat worked, and everything he wanted to say was swallowed in acute embarrassment but also real pangs of fear.

'-because you weren't there, Carton. Because Prey's gonna' say something nasty and I don't want to be reminded. I don't want to hear about another Wolfing Wood thing-'

But too late, he'd stayed quiet and lost his chance, so Prey told one of the creepy, but also cautionary tales he'd been told on quiet nights. It wasn't strictly speaking a Nightmare Night story, those he wouldn't be telling, not when it was that very night tonight, but he'd adapt it. The crow pony story was just a tall tale. Not one of the real ones.

Maybe if he did a good job retelling it, he might even find some satisfaction instead of grey boredom in doing so? He doubted it. Not that it would matter anyway. It was just a story, so it didn't matter.

"Once upon a time, through the field and down the lane, forgotten voices are heard again. This story starts on a withered, weather-beaten farm. It was the time of drought, the rocks were scoured bare, and the cornfields were already dead..."


---


It was just a short story. But Scenic and Carton, after only a few sentences, were drawn in. 

The night's atmosphere within their little circle changed. From standing safe and comfortable in the multi-coloured lantern light, to something else. Prey tricked them into forgetting how tonight was nothing more than a festive night, and made them remember that underneath all the candy and decorations, it was Nightmare Night.

"...Hungry, and so afraid. The crow pony had taken them all. The last corn kernel in the last empty sack was gone. Nothing to leave outside the door at night. Nobody left now, nobody... but me. I'm so scared. The voice of what was his not-brother kept calling out from dark, back the way he'd come, from the rotten corn fields, 'Brother, where are you? Where are you?~ It's cold. Wait for me. Wait for me~'."

By halfway through the tale, Scenic and Carton were huddling into each other. One ginormous bee, clutching her teddybear sized beekeeper. 

Prey didn't consider himself a good storyteller, it was just that the two earth ponies really were wimps.

"...It was still out there. It moved around the dark hut. He couldn't get out. It was out there. Scratching. Wheezing. Digging. It was digging. Digging, and calling out in his not-brother's voice. And the voice was getting worse, more broken, a crow's caw. 'Brother, open the door. Let me in. Let me in~. Come to the door. Closer. Closer~'."

Prey only put in minimum effort into a proper rendition too, only occasionally saying something which he knew (since he constantly had to listen in on everyone's thoughts), would definitely get under their skin.

"...All alone, lost in the dark. But it was gone. The scratching had stopped. The call of the crow had sounded one last time, but far away. It hadn't come back from the field. And then, from out of the dark, hot wet breath on the back of my neck. The last forgotten voice heard once again; 'Wait for me. Wait for me brother~. I'm tired. I'm cold. I'm hungry'."

Prey finished the tale, and stood there smiling.

Carton and Scenic both stared at him, slowly coming back up from the story. Both glanced around themselves at the Nightmare Night celebrations, but also at the night beyond the lights, their ears lowered. Gloom smirked, and leant over between the pair to softly announce, "Boo."

"Nhaaaa!", "Aaaaah!" Twin shrill whinnies were ripped out of the couple. Carton jumped over three hooves in the air. Scenic blindly bucked thin air on instinct.

Gloom spluttered with laughter, "Bwah hah ha ah ha!"

"That wasn't funny!" Scenic shouted, angry and embarrassed, while Carton Juice clutched a hoof to her chest, gasping.

Gloom just grinned at Scenic, unable to help himself. It wasn't like him to do that, but he'd gotten caught up in the joke he'd thought Prey was pulling. Crimson simply arched one eyebrow beneath his pirate hat, and Prey? Prey just kept smiling.

"It wasn't! That's why I didn't want to listen to the stupid story in the first place." Scenic hissed in upset, tail swishing wildly.

'-I knew Prey was going to do something like that, I just knew! And I thought a Sargent would be better than this-', His ears kept flicking between straight up and then back down. His breathing wasn't back to being steady either.

Really, it had just been one creepy story, but both ponies had taken it so poorly. Perhaps Scenic could be excused some of it, he'd suffered through Mayflower and the memories still haunted him every night, however the three of them had been there too, and yet none of them were overreacting to a simple scary story.

Hell, even Carton Juice, who hadn't taken the silly little scare well at all, was recovering and trying to nervously smile it off, but that's because she didn't get it. She didn't get what had upset Scenic so much. But she still supported him. So despite not getting it, she took Scenic's side, because that's what you did when you were a couple, you backed the other person up.

Something very close to an argument was brewing between Gloom and Crimson on his side, and Scenic and Carton on the other.

'And I don't actually care. So I'm not going to deal with it. I don't care.' Prey thought.

There was something liberating in the empty freedom of that. To just say three words, followed by another three other words. 'Not my problem', and, 'I don't care'.

Scenic was still upset and emphasizing how he'd made it clear he didn't want to hear the scary story in the first place. Gloom was attempting to calm the other stallion back down, but was failing to hide his amusement at Scenic's overreaction very well. 'Not my problem.'

Prey readjusted the oversized witches' hat to stop it from slipping over his eyes, and just settled back. He put on a smile, became an observer, and just let it all pass him by.

He didn't care, and none of this mattered. Merely leaves floating across the millpond's surface.

And that's what Prey did. He tuned out the concerns and voices of others, only listening at a surface level to what those around him were saying, before discarding it. Unless any of it was life or death, it didn't matter. Prey smiled, and stood, and watched the night pass him by.

Like watching over there, outside one of the tents, the out-of-uniform Corporal Fleet Glass who was with some friends, was aggressively disparaging a trio of thestrals on the edge who weren't responding, trying to taunt them into an argument about Nightmare Moon. Fleet Glass was treading a thin line there between Luna and Nightmare Moon, but Prey really didn't care. It wasn't his problem how one random Corporal chose to lose his job.

Costumed ponies in their fancy dress went around between the stalls, trying out all the games. They were happy and carefree, and they could continue being happy and carefree over there. It didn't matter to Prey if they got scared tonight or did the scaring.

That small colt dressed up as a hay burger who'd lost his parents, and was now bawling his eyes out while everyone around him tried to find his parents? That wasn't Prey's problem. Who cared when the colt was reunited only seconds later and scolded for wandering off? Prey certainly didn't.

He saw Taffy again, subtly trying to hook up her oblivious cousin Future Spark with one of her mare co-workers. Future Spark was just nodding and going along with wherever the flow took him in the party. In his own way, the unawares unicorn was doing much like Prey actually. Just following along and letting time happen. Maybe there were actually even more here tonight doing the same? Prey didn't care, it didn't affect him, so it didn't matter.

None of it mattered.


---


The night wore on, the moon rose higher, the foals who'd been brought along were all yawning and simultaneously saying they weren't tired, and that they just needed to eat some more candy and they'd be fine. Their parents weren't listening, and were winding things down to take them home. The rest of the party was still going strong though, the pies and baked goods were mostly gone, but ponies had gathered in clumps around warm glowing braziers to continue talking and laughing, while drinking hot cocoa.

Prey simply stood there throughout one whole hour, then the next. 

The night air was cold when only standing in place, but with his wool, it was just above uncomfortably cold. The ponies who'd come to the party stuck close to the braziers. Prey didn't. He was cold, but not freezing cold. It didn't matter, it was just mild discomfort. Mild discomfort for two hours. But... he really couldn't find enough motivation to care. If the night were bitter, or if he didn't have shelter, he would've stirred himself. But it wasn't. So the discomfort which could so simply have been solved by moving closer to one of the braziers went ignored. It wasn't important enough.

Since this was their second party of the night, Scenic and Carton finally bowed out and said goodbye, Scenic in a rather surly manner it must be said, while nervously eyeing the night outside of the Palace Gardens which they would have to trot through to get home. Prey smiled and placidly waved goodbye, then promptly let them drift from his mind.

Unimportant. Worth nothing. They didn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

None of it mattered. It was all just the passing trappings of time.

Everyone was living out their tale in the one big story called life. What few ever realised though, was that they were almost never important in more than one story. That lone one being their own story. And sometimes, they weren't even that. Everyone has a chapter in their story they don't read out loud. Blandly, Prey considered that philosophy.

'I know I'm no one's favourite person. Sometimes, I'm not even sure I'm a person.'

So smile, and find empty peace in the silence of being nothing. The sun rises, the sun sets. But we all have to cross the river someday. So smile, smile, smile! Smile and find something to occupy yourself with while you wait for time to pass.


------


The Nightmare Night party had finally finished. 

The last few lingering guests were even now making their way towards the garden's exit. Satisfied, but equally as tired staff were beginning the task of cleaning up the platters and food crumbs, the tents and the rest would wait for tomorrow. Throughout Upper Canterlot, and so probably throughout the rest of Canterlot too, the last sounds of festivities were dying down also. 

Above the city and the Palace and the parties, the silent full moon watched. Midnight had almost arrived.

"Finally." Crimson removed the pirate hat with the stuffed green parrot, and went to toss it aside. He nearly did, but at the last second looked around at the deserted party area which would need to be cleaned up, and perhaps a bit guiltily settled for simply propping the hat on one of the empty tables instead. Gloom himself had wasted no time in shrugging out of his cog waistcoat either, wing getting tangled in the huge fake pocket watch.

"Get off." He growled at the dumb piece of clothing as he fought with it. Finally, he managed to jerk the stupid thing free and threw it, with an awful lot of spitefulness for what was an inanimate object, on top of Crimson's discarded pirate hat.
Prey stood to the side, quietly waiting.

Gloom tilted his head back and looked up at the silvery full moon, "It's almost time." He noted quietly.

"Yes." Crimson agreed simply.

Time for what, exactly? 

Gloom scratched at his puckered chest scar, then glanced over at Prey. "You're still coming with us, right Prey?"

Prey smiled back, just like he had been doing all night, "Yes, that's fine."

"You're not going to question where or why?" Gloom asked, grimacing.

'-I don't like that smile. Not like his old smiles, those ones were false, but these ones now are just... wrong.-'

Well it wasn't Prey's problem if Gloom didn't like his smile. "You asked me to come along with you and Crimson. I don't feel a dire need to know the answer beforehoof." He said in answer.

It wasn't going to be dangerous, Prey had deduced that much already, and thus it didn't matter. So smile and go with it.

Crimson's wings shifted restlessly, "And that's enough for you, Prey? I mean, there is no way that would've been good enough for you before."

Prey shrugged, unconcerned, "You asked me to come. Besides, it doesn't matter."

"What doesn't matter, Prey? What's happened? You've been... off for, I'm not sure how long. Longer than it should've taken me to notice." Gloom pressed, coming closer.

Prey shrugged again, oversized hat slipping on his head, "It doesn't matter what doesn't matter."

Crimson joined in with Gloom, "If it doesn't matter, then will it matter if you tell us? I mean, we aren't trying to force you, but if you did, maybe it's something we can help with even if you don't think we can."

"No, I can't tell you. Sorry. Been sworn to secrecy." Prey said lightly, like they were only talking about the weather. He could've easily come up with a good excuse, but he didn't feel like it. Besides, telling the truth here was easier.

Gloom chewed his lip in concern, "Can you tell us who has sworn you to secrecy? Or is that part of the secret?" He asked carefully.

"Princess Luna, but no I can't tell you why." Prey answered. He'd been vaguely expecting to get at least some vindictive pleasure out of rightfully throwing things back on Luna, but no, just nothing. Just more numbness.

And just like he'd known it would, that answer silenced Gloom and Crimson. What could they do against their liege lord, immortal princess, and boss?

Gloom took a deep breath, "Prey, I made a promise to you. Do you remember, walking in the Palace Gardens? Like you asked me to? That I would take your side over the laws if it happened again. Is this, is that what's happening again?"

Now that was enough of a shock to break through and surprise Prey. Gloom had never chosen him over his duty to the Princess before. But here the thestral was, seriously asking. If Prey answered yes right now, then even Gloom wasn't sure what he would do. Unfortunately, it was still too little, too late. There was nothing Gloom could've done even if he'd been there that night in Ponyville.

"No. This isn't about anything like that. There's no law been broken, no rules to circumvent. There is nothing in your power, or mine, or anyone except Luna's, to change that. So no, you don't have to worry about choosing a side." Prey told him, almost kindly.

Gloom let out the breath he'd been holding in a rush of relief, '-thank all the stars in the sky for that-'

Crimson was still watching the lamb closely however, "So we can't help. But something did happen. But there's nothing we can do about it. But we're also still worried. I mean, you don't seem to care about anything anymore."

Prey thought about that, "Mostly true, but that's fine. I'm sure I'll recover to normal at some point. It'll happen eventually." 

It was true. Prey was no stranger to the slow passage of time just as slowly driving you insane. He'd languished for fifty-seven interminable years in Dreverton.

"But until then, because I don't care, I also don't care about not caring. And I don't want to care, either."

"Prey, that's not..." Crimson shook his head, feathers rustling in frustration, "You know better than that. You know that's not how it should be. Gha, I'm not good at words. Please Prey, I don't understand, but whatever it was that happened, come back from it."

Gloom had gone quiet. Prey smiled up at Crimson sadly, sad that he would have to disappoint him, "This isn't one of those things you can just come back from. It's one of those."

One of those things that has trapped you under the black ice. One of those where you've already sunk and the ice has frozen back over. Crimson was the same as Prey, so he knew what Prey meant. A person is their past experiences and memories. Those don't just disappear simply because someone asks you nicely to come back from them.

Crimson understood what Prey meant from the way his face shifted. Even Gloom mostly understood, although he could only see the plane of black ice. He was aware it was there, he'd walked across its' freezing surface numerous times himself, he'd seen the cellar and helped bury the remains after that dark night in Mayflower after all. He'd almost quit the Night Guard and given up, but in the end, he'd only ever walked across the black ice. He'd never fallen in and drowned on the other side, from where there was no coming back. 

So Gloom understood, but he didn't know what he was still missing. But Crimson did.

'Sorry, but that's just the way things are.' Prey silently thought.

Crimson sighed, "Then don't come back from it if you can't. But leave whatever it is behind. I want my friend back."

Prey tugged at the end of his ribbon, but didn't do Crimson the discourtesy of looking away, "It's not that simple. Life since then has... changed."

Crimson crouched, coming closer but stopping out of hoof's reach. He looked Prey dead in the eye, "Prey. Life is meant to be lived. Not endured. Wake up from whatever this grey dream is, and remember that."

Life is meant to be lived, not endured. That stabbed something in Prey's chest, a horrible needle of squirming discomfort. Why did that concept sting so much? He couldn't just brush Crimson's words off as ignorant either, because Crimson spoke from experience.

Prey didn't know what to say. He searched for the right words to express what he was feeling while Gloom and Crimson quietly waited. It didn't work, he couldn't find the correct words. How could he, when he didn't have a clue what he was feeling?

What can you say to that? What should you say? Or should you even say anything at all?

Prey closed his mouth. Damn the two of them and their thestral patience, they were still waiting and would continue to wait for however long the three of them needed to stand here for.

And then, unexpectedly, it was Gloom who made a snap decision to break the silence. '-inspiration! I've found the path to follow-'

"I'd like to make a request, Prey."

Gloom had gotten a hint from his special talent? Prey didn't care enough to feel bitter about that. "What?"

"I want to ask you to wait."

"Wait? For...?"

"Wait until after tonight, until after you've come with us and seen what we have to show you. Wait until then, and then give an answer. It's something special, something no non-thestral, I mean, non-clan pony, has been invited to attend in centuries." Gloom hesitated, before reaffirming this choice to himself:

"Yes. It's not forbidden, but it is something sacred. We have to ask you not to speak of tonight to any outsider, or even bring it up in casual conversation even if it's only with clans ponies. Tonight is special, and we don't take or talk about it lightly. You need to understand that. So, with that said, will you still come?"

Standing beside Gloom, Crimson nodded along encouragingly, urging Prey to accept.

Sacred, huh? Now it was Prey who didn't know of how much he didn't know, only aware that they were taking this utterly seriously. In his life, there had never been any special day which he observed. The day of Gossamer, Fleece, and their mother's deaths weren't sacred. He remembered the dates, always, he could never forget them, but they definitely weren't sacred. The exact opposite. Unhallowed.

Prey didn't have anything sacred, but if he did, he'd have probably already tainted it. But that wasn't to say he'd never encountered other people who held certain days, places, or events sacred. Hell, just look at the average Canterlotian unicorn. They all revered Celestia as a sacred goddess.

So he tried to stir himself enough to take this as seriously as Gloom and Crimson obviously were. And if that were so, then... 

Hurriedly, Prey reached up and finally removed the oversized witches' hat. He'd gotten so used to the annoyance throughout the night that he'd almost forgotten it was there. He dropped the hat to the trampled grass, not even giving it a second glance. It didn't matter, but this, what was happening right here, this mattered to Gloom and Crimson.

He didn't think it was going to matter to him, but he could at least put in the effort to try. Crimson wanted him to after all.

"Yes, I can do that."

"Then come. We'll need to walk since you're coming, it's just outside the city limits. Crimson and I just need to make a stop on the way."


------


It wasn't far, even though they had to walk on the ground with him rather than fly. 

The three of them had exited the Palace's common gardens, but now seemed to simply be following the outer wall back past the main gates, and on towards the edge of Canterlot, where the Palace met the final border of the open night sky. Beyond that, and far below, one could endlessly look out on what felt like all of Equestria.

On route, by nature of following the Palace Gardens' outer wall, they were also moving past the streets closest to the Palace in Upper Canterlot. Here, the fanciest crystal street lamps in the whole city illuminated the wide marble sidewalks. Leftover decorations from Nightmare Night were evident even here in the most upper-class district, but somehow of a higher quality. Bigger, more ostentatious, or simply going for quantity as its' own quality with their themed decorations. Like that house, which had every single inch of the wall top filled with uniquely carved jack'o-lantern. There must have been over five hundred of the smiling vegetables on that house alone.

Prey smiled back at the candlelit grins, before even realising he was doing so.

He half shook his head, then stopped, huffed, and just kept going. 'It doesn't matter.'

Prey glanced upwards. 

He'd just seen movement at roof height in the night. Prey didn't stop walking, but he kept looking, watching the stars for any drifting patches of blackness. There was one, some way ahead. Actually, that there looked like another, he'd only just seen it before it dipped back down below the rooftops. 

Prey kept watching, and saw another after a pause, and a fourth, fifth, and sixth shape. The stomach-dropping edge of Canterlot was coming up ahead, the wide open starfield beyond offering an untouched canvas of stars upon which it was easy to spot the flying shapes of thestrals arriving.

"Here." 

Gloom and Crimson came to a stop. Prey blinked. They'd stopped short, the safety wall dividing the city from the empty sky was still a ways away over there.

'Here' however wasn't their final destination. It was up ahead, where the rest of the thestrals Prey knew were there were congregating in the night. 'Here' meant a small alleyway, one of maybe three or four in the entirety of Upper Canterlot, since alleys weren't considered classy. Also, 'alley' usually implied bricks and concrete walls. Here, alley simply meant a darkly-shadowed thin strip of nopony's land between two expertly manicured hedgerows. Because Lord Snobby wouldn't stand for his hedge to be touching Duchess Snooty's, no sir, and visa-versa.

But that satchel Gloom pulled out from somewhere under the shadows of the hedge, that definitely was not a natural part of Upper Canterlot.

"Prey, would you mind waiting a minute?" Gloom asked, standing up and brushing off the dark satchel.

What, was he going to say no after coming all this way? "Sure. I'll wait right here."

Prey stood at the alley's mouth, checking ahead again at the drop-off edge coming up. He peered closely, even though he knew his eyes weren't good enough to pick out much of anything that the congregating thestrals were doing in the dark. Oh well, it didn't matter. He was going to see it in person himself in a few minutes' time.

But even so, Prey still wondered, in a vague way, what they could be doing which counted as 'sacred'? It was midnight, and Nightmare Night, and they'd picked somewhere forgotten and away from any watchful eyes which might somehow still be awake. However, this was Canterlot. There was nothing sacred about Canterlot, not to mention thestralkind had only set hoof inside the city this year. Before that, they'd been rejected and thought of only in stories about vamponies.

How could observing the performance of whatever rites or rituals they were doing tonight be in any way sacred if they were doing it in Canterlot?

A slight metallic noise behind him, like two coins rubbing together in the night drew Prey's attention. He pushed back his ear and looked over his shoulder at the hedged alleyway.

Crimson and Gloom were wearing silver jewellery as they stepped out. Not jewellery like the gaudy strings of diamonds, gold, and pearls the rich ladies wore, it was nothing like that. It was plain, sleek, and all silver. It had the ring of age to all of it too, like it had been passed down for generations. 

Flat rings of metal on their wings, and a close-fitting band around each of their throats, abstractly resembling the moon. Both had their long warrior's manes braided tightly back with more silver, nearly paper-thin strips of silver dangling from their ears, and finally a narrow silver circlet was resting on each of their foreheads.

There was nothing effeminate about it. Both of them wore the outfit with a quiet sort of solemn pride. All the silver was closely fitting, there was nothing that would catch or tangle. It was so different to all the costumes, masks, and fancy dress that had been so adventurously worn by all the ponies at the Nightmare Night party.

Prey was reminded of the thick golden neck and ear rings of zebra shamans. To them, it was their heritage. It was what they wore as part of their calling, simple as that.

And he was also reminded of his own blue ribbon. Almost reflexively, he reached a hoof up to touch the strip of silk.

Prey silently dipped his head in acknowledgement to them both. He'd follow their lead, and not try to question or ask why. In the moon's full light, the bands of silver against Gloom and Crimson's darker fur had almost a luminous tint to it. As both of them stood there, straight-backed and wholeheartedly committed, Prey thought for a moment that they looked timeless and magnificent. Like true knights from stories of old.

Gloom and Crimson walked forwards in their silver regalia, and Prey followed them towards the city edge.


---


The thestrals gathered on an open courtyard. If you were to lean over the high safety wall and look down, and had night vision, below you would see the foundations of Canterlot dropping away into open night. And far, far below that, the base of the mountain.

There should have been howling winds at this height, but there wasn't even a breath as the thestrals that were dressed in their ancestral apparel lined up. Centuries of pegasi control had tamed Equestria's weather, and massive enchantments inlaid into the city's foundations protected its inhabitants.

Prey stayed at the very edge of the dark courtyard. He knew without being told that although he was invited to witness, he was not permitted to step in. Every thestral as they arrived one by one joined the line, Canterlot to their backs, and their faces framed with silver upturned to the full moon.

Prey stood there to the side and waited. A few more thestrals arrived, trickling in. Prey counted them in the line, '...hundred and ten, hundred and eleven, hundred and twelve...', He counted on until he came to the end.

If he wasn't mistaken, every single thestral in Canterlot was here tonight. Not even a skeleton guard left at the Palace. Nighthawk must've wrangled that somehow with Shining Armour. But they were all here tonight, or would shortly be here. There were only a few more left to arrive by his reckoning.

Prey didn't need to be told to know that out there, back at their clan caves, the reverent scene in front of him was being repeated.

A last thestral arrived with a flap of leathery wings, quietly alighted, and took their place. And then, without any signal or leader that Prey saw, they began to sing.

It started just as a deep hum from every throat, and Prey checked his ears at first before realising it was coming from them. There was no thestral leading them, no one in charge like Nighthawk or one of the Lieutenants. All were equal here.

It wasn't smooth, not everyone started singing at once, but that didn't matter, because it wasn't a song with any words. It was all sound, where one thestral started and another joined in didn't matter.

They sung, and Prey listened

"~Hm Hmm Hymm HmmmMM~"

And then the first one opened their mouth and began to fully sing. The voices of thestral mares and stallions, every type and swiftly joining in. 

It echoed wordlessly, somehow quiet in the night. It felt to Prey like he imagined seeing a far-off stormbank on the horizon would feel, while sitting under shelter safe in the knowledge that the storm would never reach you. It was an odd image, but Prey couldn't quite get it out of his head. 

Prey let himself be drawn to whatever concept his mind alighted on as he listened. Flying one wing beat at a time. Towering cloudbanks of white, anticipation, distant rain, the ever-blowing wind in your fur and under your wings.

And just as he was having that thought, a thestral stepped forwards out of the line and opened her wings in the free space, her silver wing bands glinting. She took a short run up and took off, wings driving powerfully down. Another thestral had already stepped forwards, no, not just one, but all the way up and down the line individual thestrals were breaking forwards and taking off with flashes of silver. No one stopped singing, their wings beats mixing into the background of the song.

They sang of the freedom of flying into the endless skies, the plaintive note of sadness that the freedom would end come the dawn was distant, because for now the night was theirs. 

But Prey didn't have wings. He was a flightless sheep runt. Thus he had been born, and thus he would remain. All the thestrals, Gloom, Crimson, they were all taking off one after another in a cacophony of wings beating and the sound of the song. But not Prey, because he'd been born a sheep.

But the customary tired bitterness... it didn't come. The long-buried jealousy he knew so well, Prey didn't feel it.

And just like that, the last of the thestrals were in the air, pounding their wings and gaining height. The flock was wheeling overhead, above the reach of the cities' lights, just hundreds of distant flitting shapes in the night. The edges of the wordless song still just reached his ears down here, but he could no longer pick out the meaning. 

The flight wheeled round and round, tracing the circumference of the silvery orb of the moon. So perfectly did the flock seem to match the distance and perspective from where Prey was standing down here, that he could almost have thought that they were doing so just for him, the lone spectator.

But of course they weren't, he was a guest viewer here to this, their sacred tradition. Tonight was for them, and them only.

Prey tilted his head back, and watched. His neck grew sore, but still he stood unmoving down here on the ground, and watched the distant dance far above.

He didn't feel bitter. What was he feeling?

Nothing, but a different sort of nothing. A washed out nothing, not an empty nothing. And with something else just hinting on the edge of the nothingness. Renewal?

Not hope. But maybe a portion of acceptance.

Not forgiveness. But possibly a touch of new resolve.

Not absolution. But perhaps the inclination that he could still have purpose.

Prey stared up with a placid calmness he was no longer feeling. His breath came uneven. His face and especially his eyes felt hot. 'Huh. So this was all it took. Simply seeing a flight of thestrals doing their own thing. Is that just completely random, or am I really that fragile?'

It didn't matter what the reason was, because all that mattered was that now it did matter. It mattered. Life was important and it mattered again.

Prey was alone down here, the only one left standing on the edge of the dark courtyard. There was no one else around who might see him let the mask he'd been keeping so carefully on tight crack.

He was safe to let the mask drop for a bit. 

So he did. 

'Damn it. Damn it all. I hate being called a cry baby.'

But there was no one around to see, so it was okay. No one would know.

A time passed. It was neither fast nor slow. It was simply time, and it passed at the rate it always had. Its own rate. Occasionally though, time is subjective to the person living it. Sometimes it passes too fast, sometimes too slow, and just sometimes, it lasts just as long as it needs to.

By the time the thestrals broke off and flew their separate ways, and Gloom and Crimson swooped out of the night to land, Prey had dried his eyes and was ready to meet them with a new face.

Prey didn't smile in greeting at them. It wasn't okay anymore, but it did now matter.

Time only ever goes one way; forward. Never backwards. There is no changing the past. Everyone knew that, but sometimes, in the face of the inevitable, they tried to forget. In the end though, all had to pick themselves back up, square their shoulders, and carry on forwards into the future.

'The sun rises, the sun sets, but we all have to cross the river some day. But if that day is not today, and since it can't be yesterday, then the only option is that it must be tomorrow. Or many tomorrows. But it is not today.'


---I---


He would not forget, and would always remember.


[[[Bonus picture - Concept art]]]