“Applejack, there’s a letter fer you!” Apple Bloom called, hammering on the door to her big sister’s room. The little filly paused, waiting for a response. After a beat of silence, her pounding resumed.
“Apple Bloom! What in tarnation are you doing?!” Granny Smith demanded from down the hall.
“Applejack ain’t answerin’ her door!” the little filly yelled back.
“Cuz she ain’t in there!” Granny snapped.
Apple Bloom balked, turning to look down the hallway. Granny Smith was standing at the top of the stairs with a fierce frown on her face while Applejack stood next to her, shaking her head with amusement.
Apple Bloom blinked, looked at the closed door, then back at her family members.
“Oh.” She blushed.
“‘Oh’ indeed,” Applejack echoed, grinning at her little sister. “What’s this letter yer yappin’ about?”
Apple Bloom trotted over and held out the envelope. “Looks awful fancy, if you ask me,” she said, eyeing the broad strokes of ink on the paper. “Must be from somepony in a big town.” She frowned, cocking her head to one side. “Though, I can’t think of somepony in any big town who’d want to send us a letter.”
Applejack huffed a laugh. “Pretty sure it ain’t from Aunt and Uncle Orange,” she commented. “They weren’t too pleased with me when I was younger.” She tore the envelope open and unfolded the letter. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped. “What the hay?!”
Both Granny Smith and Apple Bloom stared at the orange mare in surprise. They resisted the urge to yank the letter away and read it themselves, deciding instead to prod the dumbstruck mare until she spoke.
“Somethin’ wrong, Applejack?” Granny asked carefully.
“WRONG?!” Applejack squawked. “Char Cuterie wants our Apple Cider at a party he’s caterin’ for! Char Cuterie! Wants our! Apple Cider!”
All that received her outburst were two blank stares. “Who now?” the two chorused.
“Oh, fer the love of Celestia!” Applejack cried, throwing her hooves and the letter up. She glared at her her sister and grandmare. “Char Cuterie is the Premier Chef in Equestria! His restaurant, Cheese’t Moi, has a waitin’ list of three months!”
“Huh,” Granny grunted, eyeing Applejack with a healthy degree of skepticism. “Must be a pretty fancy place.”
“It is!” Applejack confirmed. “A good third of our monthly crop go straight to Cheese’t Moi as is! Not to boast, but the chefs there want only the best quality ingredients for their cookin’.”
Apple Bloom cocked her head in confusion. “But that ain’t boastin’,” she said.
“AJ is implyin’ that because this restaurant uses the best ingredients and also gets apples from us, our apples are the best apples in Equestria,” Granny explained. “Which ain’t wrong, but I don’t see why yer gettin’ so worked up about this here letter.” She waved the paper with a hoof.
“Read it yerself if ya don’t believe me,” Applejack responded, having finally calmed down from her bout of surprise.
Granny Smith huffed and slipped on her reading glasses, holding the letter close to her nose. Seconds of silence passed while the old mare read herself. Then her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She blinked at Applejack.
“They want our entire reserve of Apple Cider!” she squawked. “I wish ya had led with that first!” The green mare dashed down the stairs, calling loudly for Big Mac to ‘git out the wagon’.
“Huh, they do want our entire stock,” Apple Bloom hummed, peering at the letter. The filly winced and looked up at her sister with a grimace. “By tomorrow. Think ya can make it to Canterlot in time?”
Applejack blinked. “What the buck?!” she screeched. “I hadn’t gotten that far! By tomorrow?! That’ll take a miracle!”
“Why not just ask Sunset to teleport it all?” Pinkie Pie asked, poking her head out of Applejack’s room. The Apple sisters gave a cry of surprise and stared wildly at the pink mare.
“When the hay did you get here?!” they chorused unhappily.
“About an hour ago,” Pinkie chirped, opening the door all the way. “I was gonna ask you if you wanted to share Sunset’s teleporting powers to get to Canterlot.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her mane and held it out to the two sisters after removing the cling-on cupcake. “I gotta pull together a flank-load of sweets for a party tomorrow. Special order.”
Applejack’s eyes widened and she grabbed Pinkie by the shoulders. “You got an order from Cheese’t Moi too?!”
“Uh-huh,” Pinkie Pie confirmed, holding out the letter as she brushed crumbs from her coat. “I am kinda disappointed though. Setting up whatever party that’s going on would have been a whole lot more fun than just catering!” She sighed, her smile fading briefly only to return a split second later. “Sunset should be here by now!”
Applejack reeled in surprise, taking a staggering step back. “You already asked her to get the order there in time?” she asked.
Pinkie shook her head and several more cupcakes fell out of her mane, all of which were promptly scooped up by Apple Bloom. “I just left her a note saying that Purple Heart was spotted near here with a group of fillies.”
Applejack reeled again, nearly stepping on Apple Bloom. The little filly darted away, intent on sharing her hoard of sweets with the rest of the Crusaders.
“Is he actually around here?!” the orange mare gasped.
“Nope,” chirped Pinkie.
Applejack frowned. “That’s mean, Pinkie.”
“I learned from the best,” the pink mare replied.
“...Purple Heart?”
“Yep.”
A spark of magic flashed and Sunset Shimmer appeared in the hallway, eyes wide with fury.
“WHERE IS HE?” Sunset demanded. “I KNOW HE’S HERE!”
Applejack recoiled from the manic unicorn and backpedaled into the wall, pulling Pinkie with her.
“WHERE IS HE?!” Sunset repeated, glaring at Pinkie and Applejack.
“Relax, BatSun,” Pinkie soothed, thinking that her ruse may have backfired a little. “Purple Heart isn’t actually here. AJ and I just need you to teleport some stuff to Canterlot for us.” The pink mare grinned timidly.
“Oh, was that all?” Sunset asked, her crazed state switching to a more subdued conversational tone. “Honestly, Pinkie, you could have just asked.” She turned and walked down the hall to the stairs. Pinkie and Applejack blinked, shared a look, and set after their friend.
“What is it you needed transported?” Sunset asked as they walked out of the main house.
Applejack opened her mouth to reply, but balked, wincing at the collection of product waiting for them beside the storage barn. “All of that,” she said, gesturing with a hoof.
Standing before the three mares was a wagon filled with barrels of Apple Cider and a cart stacked nearly a story high with boxes of various confections.
“This is all?” Sunset asked flatly.
“Yep!” Pinkie replied.
“Sure is,” Applejack answered.
“Where does it need to go?” the flame-tressed mare inquired.
“The Belli Estate,” Applejack said.
Sunset froze, eyes twitching as she turned to stare at the orange mare. “Do you have clearance to teleport into the estate of a retired, heavily decorated guards-colt?” she asked calmly, her rictus grimace betraying her true feelings on the matter.
“Nope,” said Pinkie, popping the ‘p’ with an innocent grin.
Sunset inhaled deeply and exhaled, fixing the two mares with a serious look. “I’ll just teleport it to the castle in Canterlot,” she decided. “It's close enough to the Belli Estate that the trip won’t be too long. I’ll send a letter along so that Celestia doesn’t panic when guards start screaming that some ponies have invaded the kitchens.” She eyed Applejack and Pinkie Pie speculatively. “You’ll be going along with the shipment?”
“Yep!” Pinkie pronked. “Gotta make sure everything is in tip-top shape!”
“You just want to see if you could have made a better party,” Applejack muttered.
Pinkie swung a hoof around the orange mare’s neck. “Oh, Applejack!” she sighed. She slipped on a comical set of disguise glasses. “You know me so well!” She grinned widely, eyes glinting with mischief.
“Excellent,” Sunset said, ignoring Applejack trying to shake Pinkie’s grip off. “Enjoy your visit.” With a spark of magic and a great flash, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and their product vanished. A few seconds of silence passed. Sunset jerked in faux realization and stomped a hoof petulantly.
“Curses,” she swore. “I forgot to let the estate know they were coming.” A satisfied smirk settled on Sunset’s face as she strode up the path and down the road back to Ponyville.
Applejack, Pinkie Pie, the collected confections, and surplused cider flashed into existence in a vast kitchen with a loud pop, shocking the cooks and servers with their sudden appearance.
“Uh...” Pinkie lifted a hoof, waving it at the gaping ponies. “We are not the ponies you are looking for. You can go about your business. Move along.”
“Pinkie!” Applejack hissed. “What are you doing?!”
“Hoping they don’t start-”
The cooks and servers interrupted them with a resounding variety of ululations.
“-doing that,” Pinkie finished. “RUN~!” She grabbed her cart handle and bolted from the kitchen. Applejack stood for a moment in stunned surprise. The cooks and wait staff around her blinked at the sudden arrival that remained where she’d appeared. With a jerk, the orange mare shook herself, dove into the harness of her cider wagon, and dashed after Pinkie Pie. She could hear the faint cries of ‘Invaders!’ and ‘We’re doomed!’ from the kitchen staff over her shoulder as she fled.
“What kept you?” Pinkie asked as Applejack drew abreast with the pink mare.
“Ah was struck dumb by Sunset just teleporting us here without any warnin’!” the orange mare griped. “Where are we even?!”
“Haven’t the slightest idea!” her pink-maned cohort admitted.
The pair of earth ponies sprinted through corridor after corridor past surprised servers and baffled attendants in their flight to escape. They turned a corner and came to an abrupt halt, skidding to stop mere inches before a phalanx of lance-wielding ponies wearing tunics of dark red accented with black piping and black helms furnished with red crests.
“Halt and identify yourselves!” a gruff voice barked from behind the line of guards.
“Pinkie Pie of Ponyville with sweets from Sugarcube Corner!” Pinkie announced. She gestured to Applejack. “This is Applejack of Ponyville with Apple Cider from Sweet Apple Acres! We’re here to fill an order made by Casus Belli!” Silence followed the declaration. Applejack swallowed, cutting a glance at Pinkie Pie. The pink mare stood stalwart before the line of lances, eyes burning with defiance. The line split and a hefty red pegasus with black mane and tail dressed in a ceremonial white coat decked with medals on his left breast stepped out. Pinkie Pie twitched as the red pegasus eyed the pair of them, his mane shifting minutely as he turned his head from one mare to the other.
“Care to explain how you two got in here without my guards noticing?” the stallion asked gruffly.
“Would you believe ‘teleportation’?” Applejack said. The pegasus arched an eyebrow.
“Yes,” he replied succinctly. “Which begs the question: what caused the pair of you to think teleporting directly into my estate would be easier than simply requesting entry at the gate? The gate is a safer and far less threatening option.”
“Would you believe ‘spiteful teleportation’?” Pinkie said.
“I’d have to ask what you did to merit it to be spiteful.”
“She sprung it on our friend without any prior warning,” Applejack sighed.
The pegasus grunted a laugh. “That would do it,” he agreed. “Why don’t you two follow me? My guards will take care of your cargo. I’m sure the Master of the House would be most interested in meeting you both.” The pegasus nodded his head at the guards behind him and the line parted, lances lifting to a non-threatening position. A red wing gestured down the corridor.
“Shall we?” the pegasus said. Pinkie Pie wasted no time divesting herself of her cart and walking past the red stallion and between the guards. Applejack hesitated for a second, then followed suit, eyeing the stationary guards as she passed them. The pegasus followed shortly thereafter, having given the guards several more orders regarding the cider and confections.
As the trio walked up several flights of stairs lined with numerous portraits of guardponies resplendent in ceremonial garb, Applejack couldn’t help but ask, “How’d the guards mobilize so fast? We were running for barely a minute when we got caught.”
“Maybe they had a cause for war?” Pinkie chirped. The red colt grimaced and sighed.
“Please don’t say that,” he requested stiffly. He turned his gaze to Applejack. “This is the residence of a retired guardpony. While Equestria may not be in conflict-” he glared at Pinkie, emphasizing the word, “-the guardponies are always on high alert. That this happened during a party made security all the more paranoid.” He paused. “And technically, it was seventeen seconds before you were caught.” Applejack couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed in herself and grinned weakly.
Their progress was abruptly impeded by a small grey colt turning a corner just a little too fast and running smack into the pegasus’ forelegs. The colt bounced off the larger pony and went sprawling, squawking in surprise and dismay.
“Cadet Puer Mannulus!” the pegasus barked. “Front and center!” Applejack and Pinkie Pie watched in surprise as the little colt popped to his hooves and stood as tall as he could before them.
“Yes, Uncle!” the little colt cried.
“That’s ‘sir’ to you, cadet!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Where were you off to in such a hurry?” the colt’s uncle inquired.
“To help apprehend the invaders to the estate, Unc- Sir!”
Applejack and Pinkie noticed the pegasus quirk his lips in a small smile. “And what could you have contributed to the operation, cadet?” the pegasus continued.
“Distractionary tactics, sir!”
The trio of older ponies blinked. “Elaborate.”
“While the invaders would be distracted with me, the guards would have been able to capture them easily. Sir.”
The pegasus chuckled. “A fine strategy,” he commented. The little colt grinned at the praise. “But what if the invaders ignored your distraction and instead took you hostage?” Mannulus’ smile vanished.
“Uhm...”
“Exactly. Your mother would kill me. So, instead of charging off without orders or supervision, what should you do instead?”
Puer Mannulus winced. “Find Mother,” he replied.
“Or?”
“Or the nearest officer.”
“Good lad. At ease. Who was supposed to be watching you?” The small colt’s response was interrupted by the arrival of another colt, this one a large earth pony with a purple coat and mane patched with splashes of iridescent green.
“My apologies, General,” the newcomer panted, “but your nephew is a slippery little colt.” Applejack and Pinkie Pie shifted slightly and shared a look at the red pegasus they now knew to be the Master of the House, Casus Belli.
“Quite alright, Mister Patches,” Belli said, waving a hoof. “At least he didn’t get close enough to the action this time. An upset stomach would have been all he would have suffered, what with all those sweets Miss Pie brought to us.”
Any sign of the little soldier Puer had been portraying vanished at the mention of ‘sweets’. “Can I have some please, Uncle?” he asked, eyes going wide in the way that only small colts and fillies could manage. Casus Belli chuckled.
“I don’t see why not,” he allowed. Mannulus tried to dash past the pegasus. Only to be met with a wall of red feathers. “However, I do believe your mother has other thoughts regarding your sugar intake.” Ignoring the grey colt’s moan of sadness, Casus swept his nephew onto his back and turned to the large purple and green earth pony. “Would you please escort Miss Pie and Miss Applejack the rest of the way to the party, Mister Patches? I need to get this one to his mother.”
Mister Patches inclined his head and grinned. “Good luck, General,” he bade.
Belli grimaced and trotted off, leaving Applejack and Pinkie with the purple and green colt.
“Well, ladies,” Patches said, “shall we?” He gestured down the hallway he’d come from in pursuit of Mannulus. Pinkie squinted at the earth pony for a moment as they started down the hall. Then her eyes widened.
“I recognize you!” she cried.
Patches arched an eyebrow. “Ho?” he asked. “Was my photo in the papers?”
“No! I think I’ve seen you somewhere around Ponyville!”
Patches stiffened. “Unlikely. I’ve yet to travel that far south,” he responded, his voice tight.
“Pardon me for asking,” Applejack interjected, “but who are you?”
“The name’s Purple Patches.”
Applejack frowned, eyeing the purple and green colt. “You wouldn’t happen to know somepony by the name of Purple Heart, would you?” she subtly fished. “A distant relation perhaps?”
Patches furrowed his brow and pursed his lips in thought. “The name sounds familiar,” he hummed. “I’m sure I’ve seen that name come across my desk before...” The orange mare leaned forward, trying to hide her interest.
“He’s a large purple earth pony with blue tattoos?” she described. “Has a bit of an attitude?”
“Aaaah, yes! I remember him now!” Patches realized. “He’s playing Beakquo and the Medic in MacHawk.” Applejack stiffened and glanced aside at the colt.
“Oh?”
Patches nodded. “I’ll introduce you,” he said.
Blink. “You can?”
Patches chuckled. “Unless I’m mistaken, you were commissioned to bring cider and pastries to a party for the cast and crew of MacHawk as well as a gathering for several members of Canterlot’s bureaucracy, specifically the ones that assisted with the play’s production.”
“You know an awful lot about this play,” Applejack pondered. Patches chuckled again.
“I should,” he agreed. “I produced it.” He sighed at the orange earth pony’s confused look. “I chose the play, got permission to have it performed, chose the director, and found the backing for it.”
“Oh,” Applejack replied. “I see.” Her glazed look ran counterpoint to her words. Patches rolled his eyes as they stepped out of the main house and into the back courtyard. A wide variety of ponies milled about before them, eating, drinking, talking, and laughing amongst themselves. Smartly dressed waitstaff strode strategically around the yard, platters of drinks and small delicacies carried in a magical or hoof grip. Bubble lanterns drifted above the partygoers, held aloft by a subtle weightless spell. On a balcony above the yard sat a band of a dozen ponies playing gentle music that a score or so of ponies waltzed to on an open patio.
“Now, where is Purple Heart,” Patches muttered under his breath. Applejack shared a look with Pinkie Pie. They were wondering the same thing.
“Patches!” The trio of ponies turned to the milling crowd to see a large colt similar in size and build to Patches break out of the partygoers.
“Purple Heart,” Patches greeted as the colt drew closer. The newcomer was a purple and blue earth pony clothed in a jacket of silver piped with black that he obviously found uncomfortable, if his constant tugging of his collar was anything to go by.
“The general disappearing put the folks around in a bit of a panic,” Purple Heart commented, turning to eye the crowd behind him. “Then you ran off after his nephew leaving me all alone with Mrs. Billings.” Patches’ shoulders lifted and his lips curled into a grimace.
“Eugh,” he choked. “Good thing I left.”
“Disregarding who Mrs. Billings, did you say your name is Purple Heart?” Applejack asked.
Patches and Heart shared a look. Purple Heart looked at the two mares and nodded slowly.
“Yes? Can I help you with something?” he said.The large earth pony recoiled as a shock of pink hair materialized in front of his face.
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Pinkie Pie demanded, shaking Purple Heart by his jacket. “We’ve been looking for you all over the place!”
Purple Heart’s eyes were wide with surprise and no small amount of fear. “What-” His face was yanked to the side by Applejack’s grip on an ear.
“Ah don’t know what you said to Twilight during your little pow-wow, but running away wasn’t the smart thing to do afterwards,” the orange mare growled.
“I don-”
“Zip it, buster! You’re coming with us! You’ve got a lot to answer for!” Pinkie Pie declared, yanking Purple Heart back to face her.
“Patches, what are they tal-” Purple Heart’s words were stifled by a mass of cupcakes being shoved into his mouth by Pinkie Pie.
“That should hold him till we get to Twilight,” Pinkie stated firmly. “To think we’d find him hiding right under Celestia’s flank!” She tucked the hapless stallion under a hoof and dashed away, bowling over tables and party goers alike as she ran to the wall and promptly vaulted it, vanishing into the city.
Applejack hung around just long enough to turn to Purple Patches. “Sorry for interrupting your party,” she apologized. She ran off in pursuit of her pink friend and her unwilling cargo. “I hope this doesn’t ruin your patronage of Sweet Apple Acres Cider!” Then she was over the wall.
Purple Patches blinked at the path of carnage before him, deaf to the cries of surprise and pain of dozens of ponies.
“Well then,” he hummed, grabbing a glass of cider from a passing server, “I hope they realized that’s not me before they get back to Twilight...” He chuckled. “Unlikely.”
* * *
Fluttershy shuffled her way through the streets of Midton, glancing up occasionally to avoid bumping into any of the passing ponies, deer, or other travelers passing between Equestria and the Deer Kingdoms. The last time she’d been there, she’d been with Twilight and Spike, and too busy being worried about Wits End to worry about herself. Now she was there alone, and could focus her full attention on worrying about herself.
Shortly after they had left Twilight’s castle, Fluttershy had received a letter from the joint administrators of Midton, pony and deer alike, asking for the Element of Kindness’ help with a wild animal by the border. Despite her concerns, the pegasus had been on the first train out. Without the map to guide them, the six mares had to rely on finding out about trouble the old-fashioned way.
She arrived at the adminstrators’ office; the building a mismatch of pony and deer architecture split down the middle. After taking a few seconds to prepare herself, Fluttershy knocked on the door.
Then she knocked again, loud enough for somepony on the other side to hear. The door swung open, and an older colt with a bushy grey mustache looked her over. “Ah, ya’ll must be miss Fluttershy. Not a moment too soon. We had another sightin’ just an hour back. Please, come on in!”
“A-administrator Helping Hooves,” she greeted, following the colt inside. Soon, she was seated at a round table with both administrators. Helping Hooves sat on the more typically pony side of the room, while his deer counterpart sat on the more elven side.
“As the letter said,” Hooves said nervously, “we’ve had trouble on both sides of th’ border thanks to this… whatever it is. A real pain in th’… well, you know.”
“Indeed.” Abrazân, the deer administrator of Midton, spoke in a slow, calculated tone. “Both sides of the Rúnen Mysterui have been affected, regardless of the border wall.”
“Which means there’s more than one of ‘em,” Hooves jumped in, “or it’s one that can climb. Or fly. Or teleport. Tough to tell out here in th’ Undiscovered West, what with so many species of critter bein’... well, undiscovered.”
“It is quite inconvenient,” Abrazân agreed. “And, unfortunately, this particular specimen has eluded capture by both deer and pony thus far.” He inclined his head slightly. “Any assistance you might provide would be most appreciated.”
Helping Hooves coughed. “As long as ya’ll catch it on th’ pony side of th’ border, ‘course. Officially, we can’t have be havin’ an Element of Harmony enterin’ th’ Deer Kingdoms without their council’s permission. International incidents an’ all that hoo-hah. So, ya’ll’ll have to work the pony side an’ hope it shows up.”
“That also,” Abrazân said softly, “is quite inconvenient.”
Slowly, Fluttershy nodded. “I… I think I can do that. Does anypony know what the animal is?”
Abrazân and Helping Hooves shared a glance. “We believe it to be a Celva Vanwa,” the deer said eventually.
“That’s a Misplacer Beast,” Hooves explained. “One’ve them things what steals socks in th’ night.”
“Or antler-warmers,” Abrazân said thoughtfully. “We shall provide you with a guide of the Rúnen Mysterui. He shall guide you to the last known location of the creature, and provide assistance in capturing it.”
Hooves sniffed. “They’ll have t’ be a deer guide,” he explained. “Ain’t no way for a pony t’ tell th’ settin’ sun from their own hindquarters out there in th’ forest without a guide. The sooner ya’ll set off, th’ better. Iffin it gets on th’ other side, we’ll be waitin’ a while for it t’ come back.”
Fluttershy barely nodded, her mind spinning. “A Misplacer Beast?” she thought wildly. “A MISPLACER Beast? What could a Misplacer Beast be doing this far west? Misplacer Beasts are native to the Griffon lands, not Equestria, or let alone the Deer Kingdoms! It’s far too dangerous for one to be out here, both for it, the local fauna, and ponies and deer passing through here! There’s nothing like their native prey out here, so they’re probably starving. Could a Misplacer Beast even tell the difference between a pony and a Wink Hound? How do you even catch something with the powers a Misplacer Beast has?
She blinked. Where am I?
“It was just over this ridge,” the deer in front of her said calmly, leading the way through the dense forest greenery. Somehow, Fluttershy’s racing mind had failed to notice anything after the meeting with the administrators, which included meeting and following her guide. The two of them had been trotting for what could’ve been hours, or minutes. She had been following the deer by autopilot, as it walked trails only it could find.
Fluttershy swallowed. “Um.”
“You were lost in thought,” the deer said. His tone was flat, in a serene way. “It seemed proper to alert you before we might meet it.”
“Um,” Fluttershy repeated. “Sorry. I-”
“I am Mellroch,” the deer explained, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Do not fret. I have seen many a ranger enter such a trance while preparing for the hunt. Fear not, for I have led you safely and prepared you with the necessary equipment.”
Fluttershy looked back, suddenly aware of a lightly packed saddleback slung over her back. “Um?”
“You were muttering quite rapidly,” Mellroch said. “I simply took some liberties in interpreting. You seemed quite knowledgeable about the beast in your ponderings.”
The mare bit back another ‘um’. “T-thank you.”
Mellroch held up a dismissive hoof. “You may wish to restrain your gratitude until the creature is safely made a non-threat.” His hoof moved in a beckoning gesture. “As I mentioned, it was last seen over this ridge. If you would.”
Fluttershy hesitated, then nodded. She followed the deer up to the edge of the ridge. “It might be tough to find,” she said slowly. “Misplacer Beasts are notorious for being in the last place you expect.”
Her next words found themselves lodged in her throat, as the sinewy black bulk of a fully grown Misplacer Beast came into view. Muscles rippled under a thin coat blue-black fur as it flexed six massive legs, each ending in a set of wickedly sharp claws. A long, thin, whip-like tail lashed lazily behind it, its motion mirrored by a pair of slender, barbed tentacles on its back.
Both pony and deer froze, thanking their respective god-like heads of state that the beast was facing the other way. As they watched, the beast stalked in a circle in the small abandoned campsite, pushing aside foliage with its tentacles as it peered through a dense patch of bush across from them.
“What is it doing?” Mellroch’s voice was barely audible, to the point where Fluttershy wondered if she had imagined it. She was about to respond when one of the beast’s tentacles lashed out, wrapping around something in the underbrush. Slowly, the coil of muscle pulled back, revealing…
Fluttershy felt her own muscles relax as she saw the simple wooden doll in the Misplacer Beast’s grasp. “Hunting,” she said softly, watching the cat-like creature sit on its hind four haunches as it began grooming the doll’s yarn hair. “It feeds on the lostness of missing items. Some travelers must have dropped that by accident when they were camped out here.”
“Lostness?” Mellroch mused. “How does it do that?”
Fluttershy motioned to watch as a pale glow began to emanate from the doll, the light seeming to stick to the Misplacer Beast’s tongue and vanish into its mouth. “Like that.”
Mellroch’s expression was unreadable. “That hardly seems scientific,” he muttered.
“Mammals with tentacles rarely are,” Fluttershy replied with a slight smile. “Don’t worry. While it’s feeding, its other senses are dampened.”
“Is that an evolutionary tradeoff?”
Fluttershy shook her head. “Misplacer Beasts are also notorious gluttons.”
“Ah.” Mellroch was silent for a brief moment as he watched the creature. “Do we wait until it has finished its meal?”
“Oh, right.” Fluttershy searched through her saddlebag, then frowned. “Do you have anything with, um, moderate sentimental value you wouldn’t mind losing for a bit?”
Mellroch raised an eyebrow, then turned and reached into his own bag. After a moment, he held out a piece of elegant hoof armor. “From a rather remarkable occurrence not long ago,” he said. “My first excursion with ponies and thestrals.”
Fluttershy paused. “Are you sure?”
“Possession of materials is fleeting. Memory fades only with the inevitable passage of time.”
It took some effort for Fluttershy to resist the inevitable spiral into nihilism and dread that statement brought on. “Okay then.” Gently, the pegasus took the piece of armor, closed her eyes, and hurled it into the bushes. “Oops,” she said, her voice loud enough to carry through the clearing. “I’ve lost it forever.”
Before the deer could react, the Misplacer Beast’s head snapped up; eyes tracking to where the armor had disappeared. With one tentacle still gripping the doll, it stalked to the small disturbance in the clearing, the other tentacle snaking out to probe the bushes. Its tail stilled, then began to lash slowly as it focused on its new prey. Slowly, its hindlegs shifted, claws digging into the dirt for traction.
Fluttershy placed a forehoof on its shoulder, locking eyes with it as it whirled around. “Hey.”
The look of feral rage melted from the Misplacer Beast’s face instantly as it was fixed with The Stare. After a moment, it laid down on the ground in front of the mare, allowing her to stroke its forehead with a hoof.
Mellroch’s eyes were widened ever so slightly. “Impressive.”
“Hold on. Just gotta…” Fluttershy gave the beast a scratch at the point between where its tentacles joined its back. It tensed for a moment, then quickly relaxed, flopping onto its side with a low, growling purr. “There. Now it’s safe.”
“Most impressive,” Mellroch repeated, approaching the contented creature slowly. “Did you know that would work?”
“Mostly,” Fluttershy admitted. “Like I said, their senses are dampened when they’re eating, but they turn them up when startled. I thought that would make this one more susceptible to the, uh… Stare.”
Mellroch raised an eyebrow. “And the… greeting? That is a part of this ‘stare’ as well?”
Fluttershy blinked. “Oh, no. That’s… I guess I was thinking about what somepony I know would do. For a little encouragement, I mean.”
“This somepony… is he a friend of yours?”
A concerned frown pulled at the corners of her mouth. “I think so. It’s… not so clear right now.”
The deer bowed his head. “My apologies.” Mellroch reached into the bush, retrieving his lost armor with a little difficulty. “This,” he said, motioning with the armor, “is a reminder of a pony I too would not clearly call a friend, though I did name him.”
Confusion replaced Fluttershy’s concern. “Name?”
“Márandir.” Mellroch turned the hoof armor over in his hooves, his tone almost turning wistful. “A most peculiar unicorn. I heard rumors from the Thestrals that he was here not long ago, but…” He shook his head softly, replacing the armor in his bag. “Regardless, what brings this creature to the Rúnen Mysterui?”
“Maybe I can find out.” Fluttershy gazed down at the contented Misplacer Beast. “What’re you doing all the way out here?” Her expression grew more dour as the beast chuffed and growled in reply. “She’s a mother. Sounds like she’s been looking for her child… who was taken by Changelings?
“What would the Thiacant want with a Celva Vanwa cub?” Mellroch asked.
Fluttershy frowned. “The Changelings don’t have her child now. Apparently somepony took him from them.” The color drained from her face. “A unicorn with a coat the color of mint.”
Mellroch’s expression turned unreadable. “This unicorn,” he said slowly. “Would he happen to have the mark of a white hand on his flank?”
Fluttershy’s head snapped up. “You know Wits?”
“I know Márandir.” The deer’s expression resolved into curiosity. “But what could he want with both a Celva Vanwa cub and the Thestrals, I wonder…” Mellroch’s mood seemed to sour. “It makes the rumors all the more worrying.”
“What rumors?” Fluttershy asked.
“From what reached Midton,” Mellroch said slowly, “he was looking for Thestrals willing to join some organization of his.”
A chill ran down Fluttershy’s spine, straight to the tip of her tail. “Um.” She hesitated, all of the confidence that had come from taming the Misplacer Beast suddenly gone. “Th-that organization… It wouldn’t happen to be, uh, something like… well, something kinda silly, with something to do with villains or evil in it, would it?”
Mellroch thought for a moment. “I do believe one rumor referred to it as a ‘Evil League of Evil’, yes. Why?”
Fluttershy’s mouth formed a thin line. “I think I need to get back to Ponyville.”
With a blink, Mellroch turned his gaze back to her. “How does that follow?”
“Because,” Fluttershy said, “I think your Márandir and my Wits End are planning something.” She hesitated for a moment. “And that they’re the same pony. Sorry, I wasn’t sure if that was clear.”