Prey and a Lamb

by Lambs Prey

88.7 Set the Wheel Spinning

Think of a fat seed, planted in the safe darkness of the earth, nourished by rich soil. Presently, the warmth of the sun leaking down from above coaxes a tender shoot to push its way upwards.

Glorious, brilliant light and warmth greet the sprout's first tentative leaves. The seed becomes a plant, rapidly growing into its own little world.

The sun comes and brings life-giving light, rains pass and water the thirsty roots, new leaves unravel from green stems and uncrinkle themselves.

Now the plant has many leaves, deep roots, and tall stems. More time comes. More suns pass by. The days grow yet warmer still, the earth thick with competing root systems.

And now the tall, strong plant has finally uncovered its broad head and flowered. Fat bees come in droves, the warm air hums, and spring is here.

Captain Nighthawk looked over the Night Guards who'd assembled for the night, helmeted head swivelling.

He'd called for a very brief gathering in the disused Guard hall to address them all. There were of course some who couldn't be here right now, their posts too vital to leave unstaffed at any hour of the night, but mostly everyone was here. Thestrals, one pegasus, and one lamb.

The Guard hall could still only generously be judged to be half filled. But there they stood in their short ranks, armour turning every one of them uniform in colour, but not in body.

To most, all thestrals were difficult to tell apart. Which was an understandable point of view. Even though a little racist.

There wasn't a single thestral whose natural colouring wasn't some shade of dark, plus all their slitted eyes were yellow or amber. But none of them were uniform in Nighthawk's gaze, only in purpose and conviction. If you looked, and knew these ponies individually, then you could never mistakenly have said they were the same.

Long warrior manes tied or braided back in different ways, someone who'd recently had a minor accident with a stove and lost several inches of tail, and the way each approached personal grooming. More subtle differences, like in height, a pockmarked scattering of small scars on one pony's knee, the different clan earring studs, someone with a wedge missing from their upper lip, tiny burn holes in wing membranes, how could you ever mistake one for another if you knew them?

To Prey, standing in the ranks, who could feel all the minds around him, it was even more prevalent the differences between each and every individual.

Not that he was capable of recognising all these mind signatures, that was much harder than differentiating between physical appearances, but each was different enough. Like being shown a hundred different shades of blue. You might not know each shade's name, but you could easily tell each one apart from the next.

"I will be keeping this brief," Nighthawk gruffly stated, "There are two items of Guard business I will announce tonight. For anypony not here right now, pass on the message and make sure they too get told."

"First up, the time-crunch is officially over. The backlog and workload after Discord has finally fallen back to manageable levels. Congratulations to all. Everypony has pulled double their weight for weeks now, and we've finally caught back up. Well done." The Captain praised in exactly the same gruff, rasping tones as when he'd begun the speech.

Around the half-filled and dimly lit Guard Hall, there was the quiet silence of no one cheering. Loud vocal exclamations of happiness was not the way thestrals did things. But in their own yellow-eyed, bat-winged thestral way, everyone here was very much cheering in relief if you knew how to recognise it. You didn't listen with your ears; you looked with your eyes.

"Second, those who compile the reports will already know, but night-time vandalism has sharply peaked. Now that we have time again, I want every patrol to crack down on that. It is mainly limited to Lower Canterlot, and radiates some ways into Upper Canterlot around the divide. I don't care if they're youths, or drunk partygoers. Stomp it out wherever you encounter it." Nighthawk ordered.

"Third, the Cloudsdale Weather Teams have finally gotten their act together. There is no more need for the Night Guard and Royal Guard to work to take up the slack, so the joint weather flights are being halted as of now. Unless there's another sudden emergency."

Starry Wing leaned in from behind Nighthawk and helpfully muttered something in the Captain's tufted ear in reminder.

"I stand corrected," Nighthawk rasped, "The Cloudsdale Weather Teams have only mostly gotten their act together. There's a few exceptions on the corners of their weather maps they still need to fix."

Nighthawk's dismissive tone left no doubt in any of the assembled audience that it was firmly a 'their' problem. The Night Guard had already wasted enough of its limited pony power on that thankless task, and weren't going to be wasting any more.

Understandable. No one here, not even Prey who naturally had no experience with flying or manipulating weather, had been impressed with the Equestrian weather factories’ most recent performances. After centuries of such tight control, Equestrian weather could no longer form naturally it had become so utterly domesticated. The country was now completely reliant on its armada of pegasi weather teams to deliver all its weather needs.

So for being so completely reliant on their vaunted weather control, they obviously didn't have the necessary backup plans in place for when something big went wrong. Small things perhaps, but big things? Evidently not.

'Arrogant, and complacent.' Was Prey's harsh judgement.

"And lastly, a piece of good news." Nighthawk unexpectedly announced.

Squinting to get his slightly damaged eyesight to work in the dim hall, Prey saw that, yes, there was an actual tiny grin turning up the corners of the Captain's stern mouth.

"The first full shipment of new Night Guard armour is finally ready and will be delivered tomorrow night. Princess Luna's displeasure at the smiths’ continual delays was made clear. Now, everypony will finally have their due and be able to match your brothers in the ISND."

A lot of slitted yellow eyes turned to the ISND, running appreciatively over Crimson and Gloom's more extensive and practical armour, their helmets also lacking those ridiculous purple plumes.

'-finally. I thought I'd never get my set-'
'-much better. Thank Princess Luna-'
'-I'd almost forgotten because it's been taking so long-'

The ISND had gotten the first two sets of proof-of-concept armour as a precaution. Now, it was finally time for everyone else, even the newer thestral recruits, to get fully kitted out too.

'You're not going to do your public image of 'Definitely-Not-Nightmare-Moon-Guards' any good, though.' Prey thought.

Thestrals with their yellow eyes, bat wings, and hereditary fangs were already intimidating enough to the average pony, and the newer, darker, more 'unfriendly' looking armour wasn't going to help that. Not that Prey cared one way or the other.

The passage of time always brings about change, be it new plant growth, or a new set of burnished and stress-tested armour plates. But the beginning of spring is always a period which brings about many new changes. Controlled by ponies or not, the season of spring has always traditionally been a time of new life, rapid growth, and fast change.

Or perhaps it was simply that you were more alert to looking out for the changes time inevitably brought during spring? It was, after all, basically traditional.

But this year, the scope of changes seemed a bit underwhelming. After the sudden and terrible reign of Discord, to his just as sudden and out of the blue defeat, followed with the restoration by Harmony, it just seemed like the traditional season of change was a bit late to the party, that was all. And post-Discord, there had definitely been many a party.

Nevertheless, there was still change, because there is always change, all the time.

It was simply that comparatively, these changes really weren't as big or important as what had already happened. These changes ranged in scope, reach, intensity, and importance to Prey. Most didn't or at least shouldn't affect him. Still, Prey took note just in case. Just some of them. And there would always be undercurrents that got missed, no matter how closely he or Lemon Pink kept their ears to the ground.

Like with Griffonia. Most of the actual details were being kept out of the public eye, and most ponies didn't care much about their distant griffin neighbours anyway, but Equestria and Griffonia were in a stalemate.

Overtures and diplomatic talks had gone round and around, and ended up nowhere. Border restrictions were still as tight as could be, with strict bans, not just impossibly steep tariffs, but outright bans on Equestrian imports. Only Equestrians with longstanding Griffonian citizenship were being allowed in, and both the Low and High Kingdoms had clamped down on news leaving Griffonia in a rare united front.

In that regard, Prey supposed it was a tiny blessing in disguise that Lemon Pink had never ended up investing his gold in that pig raising company. With the bitter loss of both his veropedes, there had no longer been a need for a constant stream of fresh meat, and the planned purchase of the business had fallen by the wayside. Lemon was still on the lookout for a different business opportunity, when she had the time. Which wasn't often.

Prey didn't care about the gold, but Lemon had wanted to do it for herself and felt that it was of importance. A rare show of divergent individuality, so Prey had told her to do as she pleased.

Other changes, like the weather teams finally getting their weather towers up and running again. Here in Canterlot and the surrounding lands, Cloudsdale with its famous weather factories was close enough to cover them, but in more distant and rural parts of Equestria, weather towers were a necessity. The newspapers had been making a big fuss of the weather delays, (just like they did about everything else really), with predictable headlines like; "Dire Weather Straits", and "Weather Teams Incompetent?" abounding.

There had been barely a ‘thank you’ in all of the newspapers for the help the Guard had lent to combat this, but at least it was almost all back under control finally.

And another topic of much discussion, (most of it uninformed) was about the Elements of Harmony. Post-Nightmare-Moon, there had been an abundance of wild speculation about the official story, but very little factual information. At least, information made available to the general public. That, and ponies will believe what they want to believe, no matter how outlandish.

But now, with the defeat of Discord, the veil of privacy which had been spread over the identity and backgrounds of the Element Bearers had finally been thrown back. They were the heroes of Equestria! Of course all wanted to know who these brave and selfless saviours were. For the second time!

The secrecy surrounding the Elements of Harmony and their six bearers was finally done away with. That, and literally the day after Discord's defeat, there had been a huge stained glass window commissioned commemorating the event, quite clearly depicting the six ponies responsible and their cutie marks. Word had spread quickly from there.

The gossip magazines were having a field day. Fashion, celebrity, chat, half of the pages out of all of these magazines was devoted to the most sensational speculations, and what was more, ponies were loving it. The Element Bearers had been catapulted into fame and celebrity status overnight. Reporters and a lot of important people wanted to meet them, and meet them now!

Honesty, Laughter, Kindness, Loyalty, Generosity, and Magic. Everyone who was anyone was going mad over them.

Prey wasn't. He already knew what he knew, and also what he wasn't supposed to know. He'd been there that night, hadn't he? When Luna had... when she had... done what she'd done. And then afterwards, he'd been sworn to secrecy against his will. He wouldn't risk Luna's notice, or far worse, her sister's, by even poking around the fringes. Besides, once again Prey already knew all he needed to. For now.

Prey knew their names, faces, and descriptions, as did many people now, but he didn't know the Element Bearers. He'd only seen the one personally. But he knew they were six ponies, that they were Celestia's chosen, that they unreservedly believed in the righteousness of the Harmony they were supposed to represent, and that they were in turn being protected against their own carelessness by the living magic of Harmony itself.

That was enough for Prey to know that he would hate them. The rest of them, plus that one he'd already met. The one who'd been undeservingly saved from beyond the pale of an unfair world. The world wasn't fair, but it was always unfair in the other way. It always took, it never gave back.

Unless, apparently, you were the beloved of Harmony.

So despite all the craziness and attention thrown on the Element Bearers by all and sundry, Prey put it all from him, and left it alone. He hated them for what they had and what they represented, and that was all there was to it. Prey had no want or need to become acquainted with the six now famous mares, merely so that he could then hate them more personally. It didn't even really matter who they were, only what powers worked through them, be that the living magic of Harmony, or the might of the sun wolf.

Prey wouldn't forget, (how could he?), but he'd be staying far away from the likes of them.

There were many other changes too, of course. Big and small, narrow and wide, personal and public, important and trivial. Times change, as does everything. That in and of itself is unchanging, the fact that there will always be change. The only question is; what scope of change?

Things like new spring fashion rotating in, and the shops switching out their displays and advertisements. Or schools beginning again across the country, some foals starting their first year, while others began their last of schooling. Within the various main parks, or along main roads in Upper Canterlot with neatly sculpted trees planted alongside the road in rows, spring brought an abundance of new and exciting colour. New leaves, bright flowers, fresh smells.

Randy Pickaxe was certainly being kept busy, this being the first spring he'd experienced while working as a Park Gardner.

Lemon had observed the job seemed to suit him. Hard, but active outdoors work, and one making use of Randy's earth pony heritage. Stereotypical, but it had been a tried, trusted, and true method for self-fulfilment of earth ponies for centuries, something else she'd also bluntly pointed out to her coltfriend. 'If it isn't broken, why fix it?' and all that.

Things also changed down in the lightless cavern of Prey's lair, and in the waterlogged tunnels of the hexed sewer pipes. Many a plant had experienced sudden growth above ground, why should those beneath be much different?

Prey spent many secret hours, (when he could slip away and had the time), down there. Building, improving, changing. If runic arrays could be compared to plants, then they were most definitely Ironwood trees. They grew slowly, consumed a lot of time and resources, but once fully grown, their mighty trunks and deep roots were immovable.

Things change. Equestria had changed after recent events, the whole world had been changed, even. Big changes, small changes, but changes all the same.

One of these new changes came to the ISND too.

It began much as you might expect, with a summons from Captain Nighthawk, who told them to come prepared.

Meaning; they were about to be called on once more for their specific skillsets.

It certainly felt like it had been a while. And from Prey's point of view, it hadn't been nearly long enough.

The now utterly familiar jam-packed space of Nighthawk's office welcomed the three of them back on entering, the boxes of Night Guard gear which still hasn't found a proper home yet still cluttering the dim office.

Things like disassembled armour racks, stacked in a pile atop a crudely resealed crate of tools, and topped off with a covering of scrolls stuck into every available gap were just one such example.

Without prompting, Crimson pulled the door shut after himself as the last one in. Gloom snapped a quick salute as Crimson and Prey took a place to either side of him, "Sir."

"Sargent Gloom." Nighthawk rasped, nodding slightly back, "Prey, Crimson. At ease, all."

Outside of the office's one window, the darkness of the night was only slightly alleviated by light from the Palace's torches, barely adding anything to the lone lamp the thestral Captain had in here for illumination. It was still enough for the three pairs of yellow eyes in the room to catch and glimmer almost like fireflies.

'One day,' Prey told himself in exasperation for the hundredth time, 'One glorious day, I'll get to attend a Night Guard meeting where there's proper lighting.'

Nighthawk tapping a blunt wingclaw against the desk’s surface broke the moment of silence, "It is time for you all to step back up into your true roles, that of serving as the ISND, not merely Night Guards. Everypony has their own duty to perform."

"Yes sir. I take it you mean that you have another mission for us, then." Gloom said, tail going still behind him.

"Just so." Nighthawk confirmed.

'Aaaaand here we go all over again. Life's just one big circle, ain't it?' Prey mentally sighed.

Gloom didn't seem able to stop himself from quickly glancing to either side, to Prey and to Crimson, before making himself face forwards again. "I understand, sir."

'-another mission. I don't know how I should feel. But the last one to Griffonia didn't go too awfully, so maybe this one will also be okayish?-'

Prey nearly held his breath in dread anticipation of what Nighthawk would say next, unable to help himself. What craziness was about to be hoisted upon them now? The banal kind? Or worse, the dangerous kind?

Nighthawk.... hesitated.

'Oh Zoma'Grika.' If Nighthawk was hesitating, then-

The Captain saw their collective reactions, and he flicked a hoof up to halt them:

"Wait, it is not as bad as that. Listen first." He ordered, "I am simply unsure of how to convey this. We have been asked by Captain Shining Armour, and Princess Luna has given approval, to field a joint Guard operation to solve a case that came to us just yesterday."

More reactions from the three of them, all masked to varying degrees, but it wasn't hard for anyone in the know about the ISND's history, let alone the Captain himself, to be able to put two and two together.

'Another Lilly and Scenic?! Replacements? Is that what this disaster is going to be all over again? After what happened last time, how is the Guard so utterly incapable of learning? Night and Royal both?!'

Nighthawk's mouth flattened into a grimace, '-it is not like that. I need to make it clear I am sticking by my previous word-'

"It is to be a joint operation," Nighthawk stressed, "Nopony is trying to join your squad. A Royal Guard squad will be working alongside you, and you will need to co-operate and work alongside one another, but both squads will ultimately be self-directed. Separate. This is not a repeat of last time."

Crimson's wings began shifting restlessly. Prey was certain he was thinking the same thing as Crimson here, 'That sounds pretty damn similar from where I'm standing.'

Gloom cleared his throat, "Perhaps sir, if you could explain what this mission is a bit more? Maybe that would help clarify."

Nighthawk's grimace grew imperceptibly, "This is a mission outside of Canterlot, one of the reasons the ISND will be ideal, because of all your experience. The other reason is the type of mission. Missing ponies, along with property damage, from the local town."

Nighthawk stood up smoothly, squeezing out from behind his cramped desk and striding to the map of Equestria pinned on the wall. It was a feature that for some reason seemed to be prerequisite for being an officer and having an office. That you had to include, somewhere, a wall map. Some officers like to stud them with pins and notes, while others like Nighthawk simply had the map as a nod towards the unwritten rule, and left it at that.

'Déjà vu, much?'

Prey was struck by how similar this all seemed, how rote this song and dance was, and how clearly he could envision this exact same scene being repeated in the future. Now there was a disturbing thought.

Nighthawk unfurled a leathery wing and used the bony tip of it to point. He tapped on the golden circle representing Canterlot in the middle, because of course the map maker had made it with Canterlot as the centre, and then swiftly traced down south-east.

Prey's eyes drifted left over the map for a second, to the west of Canterlot instead. Past the jagged line representing the mountain chain of the Ridgeback, and then the Longridge, there was... nothing.

No names or even dots to show where Mayflower and Alfalfa Dale had once existed. And trailing downwards from the nothing sitting there, the all-important dotted line representing the border, the divide between ponydom and the heathens... no name there either. Just a tiny train track line that if the map were to be believed, went to and returned from nowhere. Simply a huge green blob on the page, representing a deep forest.

"Haven Hay," Nighthawk's curt pronouncement redrew Prey's attention to the correct side of the map. "And no. It isn't like Alfalfa Dale and Mayflower. You're not about to fly into that situation again."

The tip of Nighthawk's wing was resting on a squiggle and name box set right on the sea's coastline, representing a settlement, built right before a jagged point of land. Although it looked tiny on the map, in real life it must be a massive spur of land, forming an equally massive bay.

Nighthawk had called it 'Haven Hay', very much a pony name. Prey mentally searched through his general knowledge for the place. Prey had made sure to memorise some basic knowledge of all Equestrian towns and railroads, as well as relevant maps. Not a minor undertaking by any means.

It now looked like he had a reason to research a bit deeper than just 'basic knowledge' for this Haven Hay. By the sound of it, all of the ISND would need to, in fact. But from what Prey could recall, Nighthawk was at least correct in that one pronouncement.

The seaside town of Haven Hay wasn't like Alfalfa Dale. It wasn't on the border for one, but instead situated just inside the border, and for another, it had at least ten times the population of Alfalfa Dale used to have. That also meant the population was entirely made up of ponies. That translated into it having all the basic amenities, facilities, and protection that Celestia extended to all her pony settlements. All those simple things a border town didn't have. Weather control, a train station, town walls, waterlines, a main road, and at least a few guards.

Any more than that though, or how big of a harbour and how much sea traffic the town received, Prey would have to further look up.

'But it's not on the border, it's inside of Equestria. People can't just be abducted by a warlock without anyone reacting, so that's good.' Prey thought. That was such a pathetically low standard to judge the merits of a town's location by, but an important one. It wasn't as if any of them could forget such a tragedy had already personally happened.

Gloom gave up furrowing his brow at the map and simply admitted, "I can't say I recognise the name, sir. Is it a port city?"

"Port town," Nighthawk corrected, "Medium sized, but size is ultimately irrelevant. All that is relevant, is the cause for this joint mission. The protection of night falls over all of Her Majesty's subjects everywhere equally."

Unnoticed, Prey touched at the golden band around one of his forelegs, and said nothing.

"You recall that one weather tower which wasn't back up and running yet? It's just outside of the town. But it should have been by now. Over the last week, near consecutive storms, five of them major ones, have shut the harbour and done damage to the town. However the reason for this mission is that the pegasi staffing the weather tower seem to have disappeared. Or deserted. Or are refusing to work. The report contradicts itself a bit. One moment it mentions them refusing to work, the next it terms them as deserters." Nighthawk curtly flicked his tail.

"Whatever the cause, you are to find out, and fix it. If it's deliberate neglect, arrest whomever is responsible. If it's a case of missing ponies, then this gets more serious."

"Sir, I mean, why are we being sent? Why us particularly sir?" Crimson spoke up, stressing the question that Prey had been hearing circulating in the back of Gloom's head. The ISND never got a simple mission, there was always something complicated about it.

"And why with a Royal Guard squad sir? It doesn't sound like it’s a wide ranging task, more of an investigation. You don't need loads of ponies for that." Gloom also asked, not contradicting Nighthawk because he was sure the Captain had already thought of that, but wanting to know the reason.

"The Royal Guards have their own task. That being half civilian control, half emergency weather assistance. The Haven Hay town Guard is too small, and ponies there are very vocally angry about the long delay in first getting their local weather tower up and running again, and now it isn't working at all, and their homes are being damaged by the storms. The Royal Guards are going to fly the flag, flash their golden armour, reassure ponies, and make their presence known. But that's their job."

Nighthawk stared intently at the three of them, yellow eyes sharp, "Your job is to find the root cause of all this. And punish the crime if there is one."

And what Nighthawk didn't have to point out was that, '-the Night Guard is ill-suited to calming skittish civilians anyway-'

'So it's basically another investigation. A mix of possibly brewing riotous intentions, nature doing what nature does, and maybe missing people.' Prey summed up the coming task in his head. It was easy to see why with their past experience that Nighthawk would decide to assign them to this.

Prey looked up at the dim ceiling above and sourly thought about that for a moment. 'I have so many better things to be doing. Important things. Vital things. The third stage is nearing completion. Now I'm going to have to put it on hold with Lemon.'

At least Nighthawk had made it quite clear they would not be working with this Royal Guard squad, simply alongside them. Or maybe after Lilly's fate, it was the Royal Guards who'd refused to work with the ISND, not the other way around. Understandable, if so.

And deep down, Prey couldn't banish the superstitious fear that this mission was going to horribly mutate into something awful because of the way things always seemed to turn out for the ISND.

"I understand, sir." Gloom said slowly, slit eyes flicking back to the dot on the wall map. He was already resigned to this coming unpleasantness, but prepared to do his duty.

At Gloom's other side, Crimson looked as ready as he always did, back straight and posture balanced.

Prey managed to refrain from looking down at the new, but just as hated alicorn made tracer bands resting around his forelegs, 'And it's not like I'm being given a choice in this matter.'

Someone above them had made the decision, and so it shall be. The mission had been issued, the reports received, the other Guard Captain had been consulted, and all the paperwork was already being filed right now. The ISND were just another cog in the machinery of Canterlot.

The Guard Captains had squads of armed and armoured Guards under their command, being only one step removed from the only higher powers in all the land. The Captains could sign off your life and send you to your death. Worse, it really could be as simple as that. Nighthawk hadn't known the lethal mess he was sending them into out in Mayflower, but he was still the one who'd signed the papers and sent them. What had been a simple choice at the time for Nighthawk had dire, long reaching, and permanent consequences for the ISND.

So what if Nighthawk had felt the heavy weight of responsibility after he'd learned of what had happened to the ISND? Because Prey could guarantee no matter how guilty Nighthawk had felt, it was nothing to the very physical pain, dread, suffering, and terror they'd felt.

Choices have consequences, but sometimes it isn't you who has to pay for them.

And that was what it came down to in the end, wasn't it? They were all thinking it, (although in Crimson's case Prey was only confident, not certain, the Pegasus was thinking it), thinking; would this be another one of those times?

'Hmm... yeah, no. Not if I have anything to say about it. I'm sick of being the scapegoat for everyone else's choices. I'm a sheep, not a goat, damn it.'

Nighthawk pulled out two files from a stack on his desk, and passed them across to Gloom, "Your orders in writing, and details." He said by way of explanation.

After a quick glance inside the files, Gloom passed them down to Prey without touching for him to hang onto, and then saluted Nighthawk, "We will do our best sir."

"Her Majesty asks for nothing more and nothing less. Requisition whatever funds or equipment you feel you need, Starry Wing will sign it off. Night watch over you all." Nighthawk returned. He paused, but then simply shut his mouth and nodded for them to leave.

But Prey felt Nighthawk's yellow eyes following the three of them all the way out of their owner's office door, and then even all the way down the corridor after the door was shut.

It was hard to concentrate on the work for the rest of their shift after that. Informed of their coming trip, all three of them were bouncing theories, maybe's, and what if's off each other all through the rest of their office shift.

The two files which Prey read over and summarised for the other two held copies of the incident reports, the Royal Guard’s return correspondence, the merger request, some information about the local town sheriff and watch in Haven Hay, and weather reports. The second slim folder was the official signed paperwork they could use to prove their authority in Haven Hay, if necessary.

However the provided details were all lacking in concrete certainty for the things they wanted to know, and in the end only served to raise more questions, if's, and but's for them to wonder over than it answered.

And come the end of their shift, a little before midday and lunch time in the mess hall, it came time for them to fulfil one of the first of many tasks of this mission, and they hadn't even boarded the train yet. Or figured out which train they needed to board.

And that was meeting the squad of Royal Guards they were going to travelling with out to Haven Hay. And since it was just about to be lunch time anyways, the ISND had been told to meet them in the mess hall.

Lunchtime hadn't begun yet. A small squad of four pegasi rose from around a table as the ISND entered the otherwise empty mess hall. Four was only half the maximum size for a Royal Guard squad, but they were all pegasi, leading Prey to the conclusion that the non-fliers, (and therefore also non-weather manipulation capable members), had been trimmed for this mission. So no unicorns.

A personal relief to Prey, but that also meant Shining Armour wasn't rating the danger of this mission very high either. Good, and bad.

Prey made all those deductions within the first breath as the familiar-looking pegasus Sargent opened his mouth to greet them, "First Sargent Gloom of the ISND? And is this your squad?"

"Yes." Gloom answered the obvious.

"Great, let's get this meet and greet rolling."

The stallion was buff, his voice loud, and posture boisterous.

Prey finally placed the pony in his memory. Nimbus Feather, that stallion from ages ago who'd once invited Crimson to go play hoofball with him and his mates.

'I remember that this Nimbus guy had only recently come back from some stint on a mission near the Badlands. It seems Shining Armour's head isn't entirely devoted to supporting the weight of his own horn, and can actually successfully utilise his own people too.'

Gloom took the lead, not letting show any of his reluctance and striding for the table with the four pony squad waiting for them. Prey and Crimson followed as they were supposed to.

To Gloom's mild surprise, Nimbus actually half rose from the table to offer his hoof:

"Staff Sargent Nimbus Feather, but I bet'cha already knew that." He introduced himself with a broad grin, teeth very white, "And don't worry, me and my guys will have your back out there. We're old hooves at this rodeo."

'Oh wonderful, he's got Lilly's old attitude. Just without most of the aggression.' Prey thought.

Gloom's first impression in those first few seconds wasn't much different, '-what is it with every Royal Guard I've got to work alongside being overconfident? No, I shouldn't judge yet, he's at least being friendly-'

"Thank you. I hope you won't need to have our backs though, if it’s all the same to you." Gloom replied, bumping his hoof with the muscled pegasus, who bumbled back rather a bit too hard.

"No worries, I get what'cha mean. Come on, sit, sit! I'll kick us off with the introductions-Huh? Who's this?" Nimbus started with an exclamation of surprise.

The rest of his team, two stallions and one mare, sat up to see what their Staff Sargent was looking at and added their own surprise as they spotted the unhappy Prey below table-top level. Prey'd been sticking close behind Gloom's legs, and what with all the tables and benches they wove around to get to this table, and with the attention firmly on Gloom as the thestral, and ponies generally being unobservant, well, he'd mostly been missed. They all tried to speak and think at once.

"Who's the foal-shee-uh, lamb?"
"Sir, there's a filly in the mess hall."
"I'm confused."

'-wait wait wait, that dumb story about the bat guards is actually true?-'
'-where are her parents? Or are we escorting her back to Haven Hay or something?-'
'-and which pony gave her that oversized ribbon? Sheep don't even have manes-'

In the face of their exclamations and thoughts, Prey smiled back up at all of them. 'I hate being a runt. And I hate all of you, too.'

Crimson moved just a half step to his right, not quite standing in front of Prey, but giving the impression that could change if he so chose. A nice gesture, but rather pointless, as they were going to be travelling alongside these four Guards very soon anyways.

'-the news still hasn't gotten around somehow, it seems-', Gloom thought, clearing his throat:

"No. This is Prey, a member of my squad, appointed by Princess Luna. And he is older than he looks."

Which of course got the same old first time reactions all over again.

'-so he's a colt, not a filly?-'
'-no way he's old enough, I'll eat my horseshoes if he's of age-'
'-what a nasty name, somepony should help him get that changed-'

All these were sentiments and misguided opinions that the ISND, (and most especially Prey) had witnessed before on the lamb’s behalf. What was new however, was how Nimbus Feather and his three subordinates, who hadn't yet been introduced, went on to openly share this. Most were usually too stuck-up to voice it.

"Hey little buddy, is your full name really Prey? Not short for anything more?" One of the two unnamed stallions, the one who for some reason didn't seem to have any eyebrows, asked.

"Like, how old are you even?" The mare nearly demanded.

"If I were to guess you're the youngest brother to a bunch of older sisters who liked to play dress up, how close would I be?" The other stallion snorted, amused.

"I didn't get told about any of this." Nimbus Feather stated looking at Gloom, nicely rounding up as the last member of his squad to add his two bits.

Prey kept smiling, only Crimson and Gloom standing alongside him knowing how fake it was, "Yes, no. Fourteen. Not close at all. And that wasn't a question, sir, so I'm very sorry, but I can't provide you an answer."

Gloom stepped in to try and put a halt to this before, '-it all spirals into a misunderstanding. Or I get too annoyed to stop Prey from whatever petty revenge he's planning-'

In the space of those few comments, the Royal Guards had genuinely managed to tick Gloom off, even though he himself knew he'd been little better when he'd first met Prey. It wasn't about him wanting to stand up for Prey, these Royal Guard’s opinions weren't important enough for him to feel insulted, but in that moment, Gloom still experienced a moment of extreme annoyance before he got it under control. Because it wasn't that long ago Gloom remembered not knowing if he would ever see Prey alive again.

Prey and Crimson were part of Gloom's life now. He could not imagine it any other way, working alongside them and sharing so much with each other every day.

Prey and Crimson were members of his squad, not Nimbus Feather's. They didn't have to answer to these Royal Guards if they didn't want to.

'-Moon blight it, we're going to have to answer though. At least a bit. We're all being sent to Haven Hay together. We'll need at least a professional working relationship-'

"I will say it again, Prey is a member of my Night Guard squad, appointed by Princess Luna. Let's keep things professional please, Staff Sargent Nimbus."

The four ponies in Royal Guard armour exchanged looks amongst themselves. They each seemed to be able to get the gist of what the others meant by expression alone, so they'd obviously worked together quite a bit before.

Nimbus Feather's final look before he turned back to the ISND was supposed to convey to his subordinates; '-just fly with it for now. I'll take this up with Captain Armour about the foal later-'

He clapped his front hooves loudly together atop the table, "If a princess said so, then we've no worries over here. Tell you what, let’s get this meet and greet going properly, huh? Captain Shining Armour said something about you guys working night shifts, so I'm betting you've got a date with your pillow that needs to be kept."

With a nod Gloom stepped up to the table, Crimson taking his left, with Prey hauling himself up onto the bench to the far right, still out of anyone's reach. "It is the end of our shift, yes, but it's more important to properly discuss what needs to be, instead of rushing."

Nimbus grinned cheerfully, white teeth sparking, "A go gett'um attitude, that's just the way we like things in the Border Rangers."

"Border... Rangers? Is that some division of the Border Guard or-?"

"Nah, we're Royal Guard through and through. Border Rangers is like what it says on the tin. We're Royal Guards who get lots of far ranging missions just inside Equestria's borders, but we don't guard the actual borders, that's the Border Guards job. We can't go making them look bad by showing them up now can we?" Nimbus joked boisterously, his three squadmates joining in on the guffaws.

Prey hid a wince at their volume, 'So you're not actual Border Guards. Lucky. For you.'

"About those introductions...?" Gloom prompted.

"Oh yeah, of course. I'm Staff Sargent Nimbus Feather of course, not like you could forget in only five minutes, but still. And this here is-"

"Bravo, my name’s Bravo Call." The big stallion lacking eyebrows beat Nimbus Feather to it, apparently informal enough to not be bothered by interrupting his immediate superior.

"Ink Stain, but all my friends call me Inky, so I expect you to too." The pegasus mare chimed in. She had a long lock of escaped wavy mane sticking out from under her the rim of her helmet, which bounced about in front of her face.

"And I'm Trail Blazer, nice day to you all." The last pegasus introduced himself with a casual wave of his scruffy wing. He had a tousled, rough look going for him. Prey had never seen Crimson's wings anything less than perfect however, and he could almost feel Crimson twitch beside him at seeing the state of the other pegasus' feathers.

Nimbus Feather, Bravo Call, Ink Stain or Inky, and Trail Blazer. Four brand new companions. Four pegasi. Four Royal Guards. 'Four ponies, to be exact. Even if they've got at least some real world experience under their belts.' Prey thought.

The four opposite them were grinning and waiting for the ISND to return their little song-and-dance routine. They weren't able to meet Gloom's yellow eyes, but they still grinned and looked back at him as; '-mostly a normal pony-'.

Crimson counted as a; '-full pony-', in their thoughts, however they were definitely still unsure if Prey's presence wasn't actually some prank, but were; '-going along with it for now-'.

Gloom blinked, looking between the four pegasi and wondering what they were waiting for. '-...we've already introduced ourselves, though-'

Prey cough-muttered, "Informal introductions." Loudly enough for Gloom to hear.

"Right, I'm Sargent Gloom, ah, Dusky Gloom. As I said. And this is Prey. Like I also already said. And this is Crimson Trace. As I might not have actually said? Did I introduce you yet?" He turned to Crimson.

"No sir, you didn't. Hello. My name is Crimson."

'-geeze, these guys are just a barrel of laughs, aren't they?-', Inky thought, blowing the wavy strand of mane out of her face with a huff.

'-probably very by the rulebook too, I bet-', Bravo Call himself thought.

Nimbus Feather quickly forced a laugh, not letting the awkward silence set in, "Pleasure to meet'cha all, I'm sure you'll do great alongside us. Tell you what, let's get down to brass shoe nails and start this. So, us and you guys are leaving and travelling out to Haven Hay tomorrow at twelve hundred hours sharp. Sorry guys-"

Nimbus turned to address his three 'guys' there; "But it’s going to be an overnight ride, so pack a pillow. I've gone ahead and posted a message out, so the town sheriff and mayor are expecting us. Me and my team will take charge of their weather problem lickety' split, we're used to wild weather so don't you worry none. We investigate, take witness statements, find out if this damage was caused by the weather tower ponies’ negligence, get everything back into shape, and round off the trip with a hero’s send off. What do ya' say, Sargent Gloom? Want to save the day?"

Gloom's lips soundlessly moved. He stared at Nimbus Feather. Prey and Crimson were doing the exact same.

Nimbus raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"You think it will all go that smoothly?" Gloom could only ask.

"Ahh, probably not," Nimbus waved his hoof like it was no big deal, "But hey, never give up hope. Sure, there'll be complications, if me and my team have learned anything, it's that something always comes up. But I'm just as confident in overcoming any obstacle. You can achieve anything you set your mind to."

"Where there's a will, there's a way." Trail Blazer echoed in confident agreement with his Staff Sargent.

What would it be like to have that kind of confidence? Or better yet, what was it like to have been lucky enough to only partake in missions which let you preserve that delusional belief? Prey was frankly jealous every bit as much as he was scornful of the handsome stallion's assurances.

'-I think Prey's paranoia has rubbed off on me-', Gloom thought, unable to help himself from saying:

"Sargent Nimbus, surely there is more to your plan than that?"

"There's only so much you can do without being there to see everything firsthoof. But seriously, you don't have to worry. We've done this loads of times, we know what we're doing. Bravo here has flown through the eye of tornados, Inky's flown off griffins all by her lonesome, don't let that pretty face fool you, and Trail Blazer here is the damn finest tracker and trail blazer, pun intended! Both in the sky and on land that I've ever had the pleasure of commanding. We're not just all talk and perfectly buffed armour shine, we've done all this plenty of times before."

Bravo, Inky, and Trail all nodded in pride along to Nimbus Feather's boastful claims.

Perhaps the Royal Guards were expecting Gloom to reply with a boast of his own and praise for the accomplishments of his two subordinates. They'd shared some self praise, and now it was the ISND's turn, so that together they could all feel more confident and positive.

They were disappointed. Gloom did no such thing. In fact, it hadn’t even occurred to him. What had the ISND done that any of them were proud of? All of their successes had come at heavy prices. Even the mostly successful if highly risky mission out to snatch Hafflow from Griffonia was now null and void, what with the griffin having vanished post-Discord's cleansing.

"Right," Gloom said instead, as if the last minute hadn't even been voiced, "Well, we've looked some more into Haven Hay with what little time we've had so far. Some facts about the town."

He fished out a folded bit of paper tucked inside his breastplate, because although his memory was good, it wasn't eidetic like Prey's and he actually had to write facts and numbers down. Still ignoring the hanging cue to pick up from Nimbus Feather, he instead started reciting off the sheet:

"Haven Hay has a population hovering just around the nine-thousand mark. The last three censuses show that number hasn't changed significantly. Predominantly an earth pony population, all well settled. Many families there reach back six or even seven generations, so there's few outsiders. It's a port town, but without much shipping. Its’ sea traffic is either all small local boats who harvest their only export, kelp, or are ships who come for repairs. Haven Hay's main industry is its’ dry docks for repairs and overhauls, not importing or exporting."

He trailed his hoof down the page, "Let's see, annual tourism is tiny, and there's only one historic attraction, the Cliffs of Dove. However, sea mists during all seasons but summer mean that's only a seasonal attraction. Fog, wind, and bad weather coming in off the sea are also all common."

Gloom refolded the creased note with a flick and tucked it back into his metallic purple breastplate, "And that's the little we've researched so far." He finished a bit brusquely.

A silence fell between the table, a silence Prey understood. 'Yes, it isn't much to be going on, but it's all we have for now.'

It wasn't anywhere the level of detail or focus Prey wanted, but honestly, the three of them had known that would be the case before they even looked up Haven Hay. None of what they could research beforehoof while still here would solve this case. If the people who lived, breathed, and worked every day on the ground in Haven Hay hadn't been able to find a simple solution, then they certainly wouldn't be able to manage the feat from all the way back here in Canterlot.

While knowing things like population density, local history, and geography might help a bit going in, in the end those weren't the questions that really needed answering. The ISND was much more accustomed to asking questions such as; 'Who did it?', 'Why did they do it?', 'Who gained from this?', and 'Who lost out from this?'.

Trail Blazer broke the silence, scratching his scruffy mane which was bordering right on the edge of being against regulations, "The Cliffs of Dove? I'd put money on having heard of those before somewhere."

Prey thought Bravo Call's lack of eyebrows really made him look clueless as he answered, even though Prey also well knew not to judge a book by its cover:

"Yeah. Yeah I could've sworn that was something from ancient history class?"

"'Ancient' history class?" Inky snarked.

"Fine, just history class then, same difference. If it's that old though then it's still ancient history and trivia you regurgitate for the history test and then immediately forget." Bravo returned.

Without even needing any prompting from Prey, Gloom pointedly cleared his throat and said, "Perhaps you might look the cliffs up in your own time then. Preferably before we leave tomorrow."

"Great idea. Inky, I'm delegating that to you." Nimbus Feather cheerily agreed.

"Wha-why me?" Inky exclaimed in good humoured protest.

"Because you caught the teacher's eye." Bravo grinned beside her. She shoved him with her wing, and he shoved her back. Trail Blazer smoothly slid along the bench and out of range of the two of their scuffle, until his Sargent joined in and shoved him back the way he'd come without even looking.

"Right, so, great work you guys did there, research is always good. Anyway, did you have anything else to bring up before we split?" Nimbus asked to Gloom while his three subordinates scuffled, Trail Blazer's feathers getting even more ruffled, Inky caught in the middle, and Bravo decidedly winning.

'-what? This meeting's barely started and they want to end?-', Gloom thought, trying not to let this unprofessional display annoy him. Petty rule infractions really weren't the kind of thing Gloom cared about, but when he, Crimson, and Prey were all already tired after a full shift and yet they were the only only ones who seemed to be taking this preparation meeting as seriously as needed...

'By all the dead in the mud, I can see the future,' Prey thought, despairing of his former sentiment of not judging a book by its cover, and wanting to let his forehead hit the table-top, 'And it's a future filled with four gold plated idiots.'

Somehow, Nimbus Feather seemed to see past his own easy-going ego and spotted the annoyed expression on Gloom's face. He grinned placatingly, white teeth brilliant, "Don't worry, and hey, I get it. But seriously, don't sweat, we do actually know what we're doing. Whatever comes, we'll all deal with together. Me and the Border Rangers, we've done missions like this loads of times. When you get to be old hooves like us, you learn it’s better to trust in the strength of your friends' shoulder rather than to try to overprepare for something you'd never have seen coming anyways."

Crimson shot a look across Gloom's back over to Prey, who had turned to send his red furred friend a look at the exact same time. It was a mutually joint look of something like; 'They're preaching to the choir here. Do they not know even what's on the public record about us'?

Had Shining Armour neglected to inform these four of his Guards just who he was partnering them with? 'Did that arrogant unicorn actually listen enough to trust something Nighthawk said about secrecy, rather than only trusting in his own self-informed opinion above all else? Is the world coming to an end?'

What should have been a good thing and a turn up for the books immediately made Prey suspicious.

Gloom finally found something to say back to Nimbus Feather as Inky, Trail, and Bravo settled back down, "We don't... doubt you all have experience. However, it's better to be overprepared rather than underprepared, and knowledge weighs nothing to pack."

But the ISND's concern did not convince the Border Patrol. You could understand why that was if you thought about it, but it was still infuriating. From their perspective, they weren't taking this lightly, but realistically. They had their own experiences to draw from, and while experience was experience, those experiences were still very different from the ISND's own. They thought they were being reasonable, just as the ISND thought they were being reasonable.

But being able to see and understand both sides really wasn't helpful though, in fact it just served to doubled Prey's annoyance. Because he knew what Nimbus Feather was going to reply with before the white pegasus even did:

"It's ponies that win the fight against crime, not paperwork. And personally, I'm glad it's that way around and not the other. See these?", Nimbus half-jokingly, but also half-seriously, flexed his muscles while grinning:

"It means I can rely on my own two wings to win, that I can stand up and fight for what's right. Know what I'm saying?"

It was obvious. Deep down, these four were all unquestioning believers in Harmony. That light which would always vanquish the darkness.

The ISND were not so naïve. They stood on this side, the table dividing their two groups and perspective. How were you supposed to reconcile those two outlooks? Believing in the best, or preparing for the worst?

It 'clicked' in Gloom's head.

'-wait a moon blighted second, I don't have to resolve this! Once we get to Haven Hay, Nimbus and his team are going to be busy fixing the weather and helping the civilians, while we are going to be investigating. Nighthawk already said so. We're only working alongside them, not with them-'

It was pushing off a potential problem for later, but it was obvious to them all by now that the problem, (Nimbus and his team), weren't interested in being 'solved'. Meaning it wasn't Gloom's responsibility to do Nimbus' job for him and correct their budding mistake.

The realisation lifted Gloom's flagging spirits to no end. He pushed himself back from the table and nodded to Nimbus Feather; Prey and Crimson following his lead in rising.

'-if this becomes a problem in the future, if, we'll deal with it then, because you're not going to cooperate now-'

"It looks like everypony has had enough. Since this meeting has run to its natural conclusion and there's nothing more to share, me and my squad will take our leave. At the train station tomorrow at midday, wasn't it?"

"At twelve hundred sharp, yeah. Find us on platform four, it's got a nice little kiosk stand, you can't miss it. See you then, Sargent Gloom." Nimbus actually rose to give Gloom a quick salute, his three doppelgangers swiftly doing the same. Their way of proving they could also be professional when it counted, no doubt.

'A mask might look good, but it's still just a mask hiding the truth.' However, Prey was fine with it this time around if it got him out of here sooner. Since trying to make any plan with the input of these Border Rangers was hopeless, it meant that time would be better spent preparing by themselves instead.

As always, time was the most valuable thing in the whole world. Except to the immortal Sun Wolf and her dark sister, of course.

Of course, all of them were still inside the otherwise empty mess hall not having eaten, and lunch was shortly about to start. A last exchange of words was a lot less dramatic when all the two groups really did was each split up to a new table, and then sit around in the quiet to wait for the lunch hour to officially start and for Cookie to open the serving hatch.

Awkward was one word to describe it. Well, Nimbus and his boisterous trio didn't seem to care at all, so more like one-sided awkwardness.

Nimbus Feather really was rather arrogant, but in a cheerful, non-aggressive kind of way. Still aggravating, but not downright out-and-out offensive.

"...So we're being thrown at one of Equestria's problems again to see if we stick." Prey finished recounting to Lemon Pink. He tiredly rubbed at the scarred flesh under his eyes.

"I see, Prey." Lemon stated, almost tonelessly.

She shifted her stance, making the boards of the walkway under her hooves faintly crunch over the gravel.

In the light of the crystal lanterns, the quartz flecks mixed into sea of gravel making up the lair's floor glittered like stray fish scales, dotted here and there in the ring of illumination, like little reflective stars glinting in the dark. It wasn't warm down here under the mountain. Caves were, by nature, either cold and wet, or cold and dry. Either or. Unless you went very deep. Prey had been going to add some heating runic arrays down here eventually, but it was still far down the list of arrays he meant to build.

Warmth was nice, but not necessary when a blanket could do the job just as well.

'But it's still yet another thing that will have to be put off and delayed because of my brand new 'quest'.' Prey thought derisively.

Moodily, he stuck his hoof into the paper bag he'd brought and fished around for one of the few remaining candies left.

He briefly glanced at the one he snagged, before dropping it onto his tongue. Minty sugar and light sweetness. Prey paused, then shifted the hard sweet to the other side of his mouth and offered the crinkled paper bag to Lemon, "W'unt u'ne?"

"No thank you, Prey. I have discovered I am not overly fond of sweets."

"Oh?" Prey tilted his head. Another divergence between them, or was it a new development? Either way, it was further proof of her slowly developing individuality.

After a moment, Lemon added almost haltingly, "I like savoury more. Or spicy. Hot foods."

"'Kay." Prey withdrew the proffered bag, idly peering inside to see how many were left. The bag had been full when he'd come down here. He was tired, having served a long day at the Palace as always, so the sugar was definitely helping. Not that he wouldn't have eaten the delicious little orbs of sugary goodness even if he wasn't tired.

He bit down on the minty candy, chewing, and looking around the expanse of his lair, "This isn't going to go like Alfalfa Dale with Hard Baked. It has no reason to."

Lemon slowly blinked, one ear cocked. Unspoken into the stillness of the cavern air was the wordless; '...Buuuuuut?'

Prey put down the nearly empty bag of candy and stood up, the walkway and gravel crunching. He turned in place, taking in his hard-won lair and the things he had in it. If only he could snatch Crimson had live down here in perfect safety. "...But expect the worst, and you'll be halfway prepared. Some insurance never hurt. And neither does backup. So be prepared to come along to Haven Hay at a moment’s notice."

Lemon nodded, wispy silver and yellow mane parting and reforming for a moment with the motion, "Yes, Prey. I will clear my schedule."

"And our plans, those are also going on hold."

"All of them, Prey?"

"All the new and practically complete ones, yes."

"Yes, Prey. I understand."

Prey looked past the stump of quartz where the pincushion still sat, secrets still yet to be uncovered, and at the half-finished construct which had been the focus of his and Lemon's secretive research and careful work. Prey had no idea how close it was to being completed either. It wasn't the sort of progress you could measure and judge 'half way', or 'three-quarters done'. There was only 'unfinished', and then the much anticipated point where it was 'finished'. Like a seed, buried under the earth. You watered it, tended to it, and waited, but until a leaf appeared, you had no way to tell if the seed was even alive down there.

And now, because of Luna and the Night Guard again, it would have to wait.

Prey bared his teeth in an unhappy smile, 'But patience is what separates good hunters from dead ones. And I've already seen the dead one's failures. How can I not learn from their example?'

Prey finished double checking the contents of the first aid kit, zipping it up and returning it to the correct place in his backpack, and finally yanked the pull cords shut to buckle the clasp. There.

Prey heaved his pack off the table top and dropped back to floor level, testing its weight. A bit too heavy to be comfortable, but that's how you knew you had everything you needed all packed.

Satisfied, Prey rolled the pack back off and let it plop to the floor. It didn't rattle as it settled with a soft *thump*, so that meant it was all packed in place properly too.

He heard the sound of Gloom flipping open the lids of cardboard boxes on the other side of the room. Crimson was checking if a sharpening stone from the pile on a shelf was actually better than the one he already had back at his flat.

Prey ignored the déjà vu he was getting from being here in the dimly lit Night Guard supply room again, packing up a backpack with whatever he felt they might need for the coming mission. Because the last time they'd been in here, it had before they left for Mayflower and the nightmare which awaited them there.

Prey recalled Gloom having to guide Scenic and Lilly on what and how to pack, the two not having a clue on what you needed to survive in the wilderness.

Being here in the dry dusty storeroom, with groaning shelves and crates of bits and pieces, it felt really ominous, and yet also not, because that was silly. It was the same room, and they were doing the same thing again, but that didn't also make it suddenly ominous.

Prey sat down atop his new khaki backpack, and spent a long minute thinking back to all of that. To Mayflower and that night huddling in the dark especially, but also beyond that. It wasn't a happy memory. And since then, so many new and horrible things had occurred, each one terrible and unique in its own right. The thieves, Luna, Discord, and most recently of all, the changelings.

'Some higher power out there definitely has it in for me. And I bet its name is Harmony.' Prey thought with a passing flicker of morbid humour. These and similar heavy thoughts cycled through Prey's mind as he sat there, ruminating, while Gloom and Crimson methodically organised and packed their own flight saddlebags.

Crimson came near, aiming to return a ration pack he wasn't a hundred percent certain was sealed properly, and exchange it for another one from the shelf. Prey spoke what was on his mind without really thinking:

"The things we regret often aren't the worst things we've done. Not even close. At a certain point, it's just... more of the same. Another meter or another mile of black ice, it hardly matters anymore. It's all about the scale, but also not, because that's an illusion. People think that obviously the biggest wrong you've ever done that is the worst. And it is the worst, objectively. But to you, it isn't. It's the ones which you truly, deeply, regret that really... ah, never mind. Sorry, I was feeling philosophically melancholy and it got away from me, I didn't mean to say all of that."

"It's fine. I understood." Crimson said, holding up a new ration pack to make sure it was absolutely sealed correctly. Then his eyebrows drew together under his helmet. He half turned his head, blinking at Prey from the corner of one amber eye.

"I was supposed to understand that, wasn't I? You weren't… trying to hint towards something else?" Crimson carefully asked, concern showing as he tensed and untensed his wing muscles.

Prey let out a big huff of air, rubbing at his face with a fetlock, "No, it wasn't anything cryptic like that. Just annoyance at myself, sorry. And anyway, it's not one of the outcomes I regret in the end."

Prey finished rubbing at tired eyes and sighed, 'I don't regret the changelings. They attacked me, they brought their fate on themselves. All of them. I didn't even have a say in the matter.'

Crimson slowly went back to making sure he had the correct ration packs. "There was a time like that," He addressed Prey without turning, no outward visible indication showing how close attention he was showing Prey. Not even his tufted ears sticking out of the helmet's slits swivelled in the lamb's direction.

"I mean, I was such a fool about it. I didn't stop and think in time, only after, and I regret it. But you already already know about that. I mean, most of it..."

Prey added Crimson's words to the repertoire of what he already knew, and pondered on it all for another long minute.

"This whole mission really is feeling very same-y same-y, and ominous, and we haven't even started it yet. I'm not liking it." Prey finally declared to the room at large.

Gloom called from across the room; "I can assure you Prey, you're not alone. It's firmly set into my head too and I can't shake it. I swear to Luna Prey, that if you sing that creepy foal’s rhyme at any point on this trip, so help me but I'm going to give you toilet cleaning duty or something."

Sun brightly glinted off spires. Golden domed mage towers brilliantly caught every ray of light. The massive, pearly white structure of Cloudsdale floated on the skyline, something out of a fairy tale, the scale making distance deceive and the tiny figures of pegasi little more than colourful ladybugs.

Canterlot glittered and preened in all its daytime radiant glory.

Flowers in pots and hanging baskets were shooting up in the influx of light and warmth everywhere. Mowed lawns, roadside grass verges, tended trees and rose bushes. The time of fresh growth was well and truly here, so plants of every shape and kind did what they do best. They reached for the light.

And within the thousand and one different houses, in both Upper and Lower Canterlot, up and down streets, cobble paths, and brick roads, the ponies of Canterlot moved, breathed, and lived. It was an accumulation of more lives, talents, and stories than you could ever listen to in any lifetime.

So many individuals, so many stories. So many beginnings, so many as of yet unreached endings.

Crimson rose through the air, strong downward strokes gaining him height with each wingbeat, and wind shivered around the ends of each pinion as Crimson overpowered gravity. The endlessness of the open sky lay above him, the prize and also the goal.

Below on the second story balcony of the apartment block, Prey craned his neck back and shielded his eyes to watch for a minute. The blue of the midday sky radiating the sun was a bit too bright for his damaged eyesight, and he wasted time wishing again that he had wings of his own.

He stifled a huge yawn, and then went back inside to sleep in the safety of his flat, for tomorrow the three of them would be leaving.

Back inside, Prey did a last few things before sleep that needed doing. Just things, the stuff that was in everyone's life. Non-important stuff, emptying the small garbage can he owned. And... also some important stuff. Just some precautions, double checks. He took a brief trip into Crimson's flat. Then he returned to his own, climbed up onto the mattress Gloom had taken him to buy, supported by the bedframe he and Crimson had built, pulled the blanket over his head to block out the sun and closed his eyes.

Things. Stuff. Small actions that might have long term consequences... or none whatsoever. Either or. Life was like that, filled with a hundred day to day choices that made up a life, and only when you looked back did you realise had also made up you.

"Uh, soooo... yeah. Please be safe." Scenic mumbled, looking down at the concrete of platform. By this point, all the goodbyes had already been said. This here? Coming to see them off? It was simply extra.

"We will try." Gloom nodded, having to shade his eyes in the sunlight. Prey wordlessly shifted his pack higher on his back, and too gave Scenic a nod. Crimson gravely repeated Gloom's words:

"We will try."

The large station clock set into the arch of the ticket office building read five-to-twelve. The noise and chatter of ponies up and down the platform made up a constant background hum, but around the ISND in particular, they had a cleared bubble of space. Gloom and Crimson's Night Guard armour was good for that, besides also blocking arrows and the like.

Carton Juice had come with Scenic, partly because he was her coltfriend and that was what a good marefriend was supposed to do, but also because the ISND were her friends too. Or at least, from her perspective they were. Privately, Prey had heard her wondering if perhaps Scenic was making a bit too much fuss over this farewell.

'-they'll go and do their job, and then they'll come back in a week at most and we can all have tea together-'

Carton honestly couldn't foresee anything going wrong, and she was a pony. She always expected the best to happen. However, however...

Deep down, she couldn't forget about the disaster Scenic had ended up falling into when he was sent out on a mission, and for that reason, she was secretly very happy he was now out of the Night Guard. Not that she had anything against the Night Guard, no sir'ee! It was just that, as proven, it could sometimes be a dangerous profession.

'-one day, when dear Paint Spot is ready, he'll finally tell me the details of what really happened. I'm not sure I'll like hearing it, but I will be there for him-'

The massive earth pony mare looked like she was physically having to restrain her own hooves from reaching out to try to give a farewell hug to each of the ISND for good luck, "Travel safe, and I hope your job goes well. Maybe you'll even have time to take a break on the beach?"

The well-meaning sentiment was real but already stale by now. The goodbyes had already all been said multiple times. Once again, this was just extra. But here on the platform, last minute before they left, with all these other ponies around avoiding getting too close, it really wasn't conducive to the true sentiment. All the meaningful farewells, those had already been exchanged before even making it to the train station.

Lily hadn't been able to make it, and neither had Saffron, but they too had said their real farewells before yesterday evening. They'd all taken the time to have a last proper conversation together.

Gloom in particular had made time to take Lilly aside and sit down to have a long conversation with the grossly deformed mare. She was still aiming towards re-joining the Guard, but Gloom'd had to tell her bluntly, if gently, that she wasn't going to be able to serve in the ISND anymore if or when she re-joined. Lilly had already known that, even if it hadn't ever been specifically said to her. She'd still been hurt and disappointed, but had always known inside that it'd never been an option. It wasn't anyone's fault. That wasn't all Lilly and Gloom had talked about by any means, when Prey had listened in on them, but it was one of the topics.

"My goal hasn't changed," Had been her exact words, "I am still going to re-join the Guard, and I'm going to get there through my own merits. You don't have to worry about me sir,-I mean Gloom, I'm not going to try to rush and do something stupid before I'm ready. I've had to learn patience."

Saffron had sent a bouquet of flowers. That had been a bit of a surprise and shock, and not just to the unfortunate delivery pony. Because what were you supposed to do with a bunch of cut flowers?

They weren't even the edible kind, meaning they were purely for decoration. Plus, the three of them were about to get on a train and leave, meaning they weren't even supposed to put them in a vase to look at. If they'd been a pot of still-living flowers, then you could at least water them and hope they'd still be alive when you got back, or ask someone to water them for you. Similar to what Prey himself had done, making arrangements for his collection of pot plants of very specific herbs. Crimson's blood fern would also be similarly tended to.

But a bouquet of flowers. Just... why? This was a Night Guard mission, how were flowers appropriate? Hopefully this wasn't a funeral they were being sent to. Who even thought when they were told last minute that some of their acquaintances were leaving literally the very next day; 'Yes, I will send them some flowers'?

A famous model, apparently. It was probably just their 'go-to' response for good or bad news where they couldn't come to say farewell in person.

'Actually, I should remember that, sending flowers. Most ponies haven't a clue what a flower is beyond that it looks pretty. I bet I could send a bouquet of Beladonna, Oleander, and Angel’s Trumpets, and the first thing they'd do is bury their dumb face and take a deep breath.'

Prey made a note to do something to thank Saffron for that idea when he got back from this. Saffron wasn't a friend, nothing of the sort, and of the few who merely counted as 'acquaintances', she was by far the least of them. But when he had been mutilated by chaos, paralysed, and trapped in a circle of mirrors, Prey could remember with forever frozen clarity what he'd felt and thought during those hours, fully expecting to die.

As it turned out, Saffron Swirl was someone who... he wouldn't miss per-se, but who he would at least turn aside to quietly spend a few minutes mourning for if she died. There weren't many Prey could say the same about. Which wasn't a mark of strength on his part, but rather a mark of callousness, he could and did admit that.

For example, for any and all strangers off the street, Prey wouldn't even pause in eating his meal if they suddenly dropped dead in front of him. Like with the changelings. A massive number, more black encased bodies than he could count. The vast underground tunnels were still clogged with their rotting corpses, and Prey slept fine every night. Or at least, as well as he'd ever slept to begin with. The changelings had brought their fate on themselves. He wasn't going to lose his appetite over them forcing his hoof.

And there were too many still out there whose death would actively sweeten Prey's metaphorical meal. More than zero was too many when it came to The List.

But with that sentiment in mind... Prey's ear twitched. Then twitched again. He tugged at the backpack’s straps, but there was no distracting himself, 'Do it. You're trying to be better than you are. It's not a high bar to clear.'

Prey turned to fully give Scenic his attention, having been keeping an eye on all the untrustworthy ponies around them at all times, especially the unicorns. "Goodbye Scenic. Make sure to look after Carton. You are... you aren't as helpless as you think. If you've got something good, grab onto it with both hooves and never let go."

Scenic could only blink at him, mouth moving as he tried to find the words while also trying to figure out if he was offended or comforted.

Prey wasn't interested in hearing whatever sappy words he came up with, and so didn't wait to hear them. He stepped closer so he could talk up to Carton Juice, "Down here. Yes, goodbye, and thank you. Take care of Scenic. If something huge and bad happens again, listen to his advice. He'll say the smart thing, which is to run away. You're not as strong as you think you are. So don't try to do something brave."

"Umm. Thank you? You be safe too?" Carton half asked in bafflement, blinking down at the much smaller lamb who only came up to her knee. Well, even Crimson only came up to the huge mare's chin, so it wasn't the most accurate of measurements.

Mentioning Crimson, he didn't make any moves to disagree with anything Prey had just, merely gravely adding for himself; "Yes. Take care of each other. We will see you on our return. Night watch over you."

'-well, that's... sweet of them to say. I think? I'll ask Scenic once we go, he knows more about their strange thestral clan culture. Well, Prey's not actually, and he's too young, but basically-', Carton broke off her thought to smile fondly at both Prey and Crimson.

"Thank you for saying so. Hopefully you won't have to be gone so long you that have to write, but if you are, then please do write. We would all like to hear you're doing well." She said.

"I'm definitely hoping it isn't that long." Gloom said drily.

Over the thronging crowd on the platform, Prey heard the unmistakable sound of large, feathered wing beats. He looked up and around sharply. A pegasus shouldn't really be flying here, even if it wasn't illegal to land and take off from the train station, but the wing beats were definitely coming this way-

Inky came to a flapping stop above them, hovering in place, "You guys need to come and get on the train. It's leaving in, like, two minutes. Sargent Nimbus sent me over to make sure you hadn't forgotten." She chirped, upbeat.

She didn't seem to care about the downdraft she was blowing into all of their eyes, nor that she was flying with the sun almost directly behind her so that her golden Royal Guard armour shone blindingly. Or perhaps she was aware about that second part, which was why she was proudly doing it. Also, the respected and famous gold armour Inky wore was probably a factor in why she was getting away with flying in here, and so close to head height of everyone. Ponies on the busy platform were all looking, but they weren't looking with any disgruntled annoyance, only interest when they saw that it was a Royal Guard.

'So long as the colour of the armour is gold, not silver, then apparently all social blunders are excused.' Prey observed. It wasn't a new observation by any means.

"We haven't forgotten. We'll be there in one minute. The train leaves in two." Gloom answered Inky calmly. Looking over, you could see Nimbus, Bravo, and Trail Blazer all casually standing with bulging saddlebags, resplendent in their gold armour standing directly in the sun, and being admired by passing ponies.

"Um, hello officer." Carton said, suddenly as nervous as when she'd first met the ISND. Beside her, Scenic wore a tiny, considering frown as he squinted up at the hovering pegasus:

'-so you're one of the ponies going to be working with them. You'd better not be a screwup like I was, for your own good-'

That stray strand of mane which again had carelessly escaped Inky's helmet bobbed as she nodded politely to Scenic and Carton, "Good afternoon, Mrs, Sir. If we had time, I'd ask Sargent Gloom to introduce us. Another time, then."

Over by the kiosk, Nimbus Feather made an impatient gesture, urging them all to hurry over. And just like that, the time for farewells had passed, the train was letting out loud gouts of steam, and it was time for them to leave. Ready or not. The future was here. Not enough time to say goodbye in case this was somehow something final, and too long for something they would be coming back from. A feeling caused by nothing but déjà vu and superstition of course, but that's why it was déjà vu and superstition.

The Border Patrol, then the train, and finally Haven Hay awaited them.

"Come on, we need to go." Gloom waved his wing to Scenic and Carton, stepping away. They waved back, Inky gained height and banked around, Prey rolled his shoulders into the tight backpack straps, and Crimson took a deep breath.

'My lair, my runic defences. I'm leaving their safety yet again-'

The first train whistle sounded. No time for that. Only time to go. He hurried along with Crimson's longer strides, the sun beating down on the platform, and their next unwanted mission ahead.

A minute later, the train engine and the carriages it pulled behind it chuffed out of the station. It was to be an overnight trip, with a four hour layover on the way for carriages to be added and removed, and the engine refuelled. But the train was on its way, and the course of its passengers were now committed. To choose a path to follow, you must also choose which path you would not.

'I chose to come back. This is one of the possibilities I knew could happen when I chose.'

The ISND and Border Ranger's train had left hours ago. The sun was slowly being lowered towards the horizon, casting the platforms of the Canterlot train station in a pleasant orange tint.

It was already past the wind-down phase of the stations' day. There were still ponies on the platforms, but only a small number compared to the busy crowds at midday, and these ponies were quieter. The day was about to be over, they'd worked hard, and were either looking forwards to getting home or resigning themselves to a long, overnight trip.

In the train yard, resting on their metal tracks which had finished humming for the day, many an engine now sat quiet in its couplings waiting for the morrow. Not all of them, there were still some trains which ran overnight, but most of them were done for Celestia's day.

However, one of those that ran throughout the quiet hours of Luna's night was even now pulling out of the station and slowly picking up speed, heading south-east. Only one of the carriages being pulled behind the engine was devoted to paying passengers, the other five were cargo. One was lumber, one filled with empty barrels on their way to be filled, the third held mixed farm produce, and the last two were empty. And they were empty, because a pony now had to double check before departure. Doing so was a new and annoying regulation following that unexplained accident where what should've been an empty train car exploded halfway down Mount Canter. But these two were empty.

It still took longer for the train to get up to speed than the driver had been expecting. Either they hadn't stoked the engine up enough, or somepony had forgotten to account for one of the three cars which actually had cargo. And definitely not the other two empty cars. Besides which, those cars smelled bad, like mould and stagnant pondwater filled with algae and weeds.

This train rolled out and on into the falling night.

Prey had not forgotten what he had once learned.