//------------------------------// // You Only Live Thrice, Part I // Story: From Stalliongrad With Love // by LoyalLiar //------------------------------// VI You Only Live Thrice Part I  - - - You Only Live Thrice Once when you are born, Once when you look Death in the face, And once when you rise from your grave for revenge. How many syllables was this supposed to have, again? -The Last (and first) Haiku of Commander Hurricane, dated November 10th, 18 Age of the Founding - - - September 8th, 1452 A.S. Ponyville Marketplace 0937 Hours         Seven hooded heads hissed in near-unison as the massive spades that served as the creature's feet tromped out after its prey.  The pale green unicorn fleeing from the creature screamed at the top of her lungs, though it took some time for the noise to develop into an actual thought.         "Hydra!"         Ponyville Marketplace would have erupted into chaos, if it honestly hadn't already reached that point.  However, Lyra's announcement had been rather pre-dated by the sheer amount of noise that a creature of such gargantuan proportions made in the process of bashing down trees and sliding over boulders.  Nearly everypony was running.         At one particular stall, a stallion in a heavy jacket was staring at an array of fine cutlery as the mare who owned the wares in question tugged on his burly shoulders.  "You've gotta get out of here!"           "I don't see why I should," the Ponyville schoolteacher answered with utter apathy as the tower of serpentine death bore down toward him at a reasonably alarming rate.  "I am not done."         The mare, whose name was probably some pun on forks and spoons, gritted her teeth and groaned at him.  "You're going to be done forever if you don't leave!"         "I doubt that."  Ink's eyes surveyed the wares once more, and then lit up at an item he hadn't noticed before.  Given it's size, such a lack of perception was something of a miracle, though the hissing of an approaching hydra and the tugging of an insistent mare might have had something to do with it.  Still, a kitchen knife three-feet in length isn't something one easily misses.         Before the insignificantly named silverware pony could say anything further he grabbed the sword–and really, why bother pretending otherwise? –and flew off in what most other sane and well-meaning ponies would have labeled 'the wrong direction'.           "Wait, you're going to–" began a long and tiring list of words which formed a sentence entirely inapplicable to a stallion who had, in his youth, written "monster hunter" on a job application with absolute sincerity.  By the time they were done, the first hydra head was bleeding on the street, writhing and squirming and other delectable gerunds best left to the imagination.         The rest of the creature recoiled in the pain of decapitation which surely need not be described, given the natural familiarity every reader ought to have with the sensation.  Suffice it to say that the same pain which coursed through the creature's nerves also left it off guard to the burly pegasus who had turned on a metaphorical bit and set his wings on fire.           Since the conclusion of this so-called 'battle' was entirely foregone the moment Ink decided to involve himself, this narrative will now skip what is surely an item of no particular interest to anyone.  Who would honestly want to hear about the speed with which Ink dove between the creature's necks and spun in midair, lashing out with his 'kitchen knife' of titanic proportions, severing heads and laughing as the creature grew back more in their places?  What purpose would be served in described the terrible gash on his shoulder that ceased its bleeding and shed its poison in a burst of flame?  All that matters is that, in the end, Roscherk has a small scrape on the end of his coat, and was carrying a large, charred black hydra skull on his back.  A rather wet explosion issued from the charred and fully decapitated corpse behind him.  Rather than looking back, he pulled a pair of sunglasses from his coat, slid them onto his face, and calmly walked forward into the crowd that had assembled to watch his victory.  They were, in a word, dumbfounded.         "No need to thank me," he told them, pride dripping from his every word as his wings waved off the applause he was sure would erupt at any moment.  "Wasn't even that hard."         "Y– you k-k-killed it…"         In a moment of silence, Ink's wing lowered his sunglasses down his muzzle to stare at the speaker.  A teenaged purple-ish pegasus was staring with wide eyes at the stew covering the streets of the marketplace.  Slowly, his eyes scanned the crowd, and noted that in the place of the public applause he might have earned in a more 'civilized' Domain, the collective ponies of Ponyville seemed to share the mare's shock.         "Well, no shit I killed it," Roscherk answered her in disbelief, and simultaneously embracing a bit of vocabulary that had been his constant companion in hs native Stalliongradi, but had only recently been translate to Equiish.  "What were you expecting?  That I use the 'friendship magic' stopping it?"         After a painfully long pause, at least a dozen ponies nodded.  Ink's hoof met his face hard enough to shatter his sunglasses.           "Would you rather I let it eat you?  Crushing homes, and destroying families?  It is…"  He glanced back at the meaty mess.  "It was a hydra!  A mindless, unfeeling killing machine!  A monster!"         A familiar voice pushed its way through the crowd.  "Strictly speaking, Mr. Ink, that hydra was far from being mindless, although I can understand the misconception.  Rather than separate brains in each of its skulls, a hydra has only a single central brain inside it's chest cavity, roughly adjacent to its spleen.  You can see it if you–"  Twilight Sparkle pushed her way out of the small mass of ponies, at which point her jaw dropped at the mess Ink had made.  "O-oh.  You blew it up."  She didn't seem to have room in her voice for any expression save utter shock at the gory landscape before her.                    "Hydra blood burns like oil.  Bad trait for fighting me." Roscherk shrugged.  "You were about to say something stupid, about how hydra has feelings too, and I should not be splattering it all over houses?  Or are you merely irritated by new paintjob for the town?"  Ink took a moment to enjoy the dripping stains on the market stalls.  "I like it."         "It's completely unsanitary!"         "Somepony tell Rainbow Dash it would be good to be getting rain to wash off the stalls before they dry.  Unless you are fans of green paint."         A whimpering noise drew the attention of the arguing ponies, and they turned back to where Twilight had previously carved her swath through the stunned crowd.  A butter yellow mare stared at the mess that had formerly been a sentient creature.         "Wh-what happened?"         Ink gulped visibly, scolding himself in his mental monologue.  How could I have been so greedy?  So thoughtless?  I should have shared–it wasn't as if there weren't enough heads for both of us.         "I'm so sorry, Fluttershy–"         "You killed it?" she asked with gentle but hollow tones, eyes wide with shock, lids quivering on the verge of tears.  "You murdered a defenseless creature?  Just because it was hungry?"         Twilight cut in.  "Not to be insensitive here, Fluttershy, but it was a hydra.  I don't think 'defenseless' is the right word."         Roscherk shook his head slowly, as his mind lagged behind his tongue.  "No, she's right, Sparkle.  It was pretty defenseless, at least against me."  As Fluttershy's shock and sorrow turned into a focused, quite literally magical force of unstoppable willpower, Ink realized what he had actually just said.  "I should have waited, shouldn't I–"         His words ended not with a verbal interruption, but with the force of a Stare so potent it sent a physical shockwave sweeping over the crowd.  "Yes, you should have.  And you should also be ashamed of yourself, Mister Ink.  You… you…"  Fluttershy's Rant lost the lower-right leg of its initial letter, devolving into a slow and steady Pant.  After a moment, her legs quivered, and she fell to the ground clutching her forehead.  "Oh my.  I've never felt so tired…"         "Your Empatha is strong," Roscherk noted, still struggling to shake off the feeling of overwhelming fear tinged with shame.  "But I would guess you never use it on another pegasus before, right?  My magic fought back yours; that is why you are tired."  He shook his wings briefly, as if shivering off a layer of snow.  "Never have I seen such will; even mentor could not match you eye to eye; then again, I would be surprised to see you wield wind and thunder as he did, or fire as I do."  He unleashed a small chuckle, lost on the crowd, and moved to where some of the hydra's blacked and crisp bones still remained mostly intact.  After glancing at the pile for a moment, he lifted the skull and set it on his back, balanced between his wings.  "Eat something, and calm yourself, and you will heal quickly, Fluttershy.  If you would like, I would love to buy you brea–"         "Not the time, Roscherk," Twilight interrupted.         "Ugh, fine," the stallion answered.  His eyes then wandered to the crowd.  "Well, what are you standing for?  Nothing more to see.  Back to shopping  or eating or whatever it is boring ponies do.  Unless somepony is willing to offer me a job, that is."         As the crowd dispersed, delayed only by a cluster of ponies guiding the fatigued Fluttershy aside, Twilight made her way up to her houseguest.  "Why are you looking for a job?  You should get going; you're late for class!"         "Cherry Lee, or whatever name is, returned today.  Too bad, too.  I had been hoping to teach students magic."  Somewhere, forty-odd grateful parents felt a sudden pang of relief, and had no conscious knowledge of why.  "But now she is back, and substitute is out of work."         Twilight's eyes widened.  "Oh!  Uh, actually, I've got this letter for you here."  Twilight's magic fiddled with a saddlebag Ink hadn't previously noticed at her side.  After a moment's trouble, she offered him a tightly bound scroll, bearing a rather ornate wax seal emblazoned with the icon of a crescent moon.         "Let us see what this says," Ink noted, as his wing tore the letter open.           "Dear Mr. Ink,         I know we had agreed you would be soob– no, subs… sub-stit-uh-ting–"         "It's substituting… for me for just a few days, but I'm afraid something rather urgent has come up here with my sister–the one who's wedding I left to attend in the first place.  I have no idea just how long I will be gone for, but as you've probably guessed, it will be more than a week.  I hope to be home by the first snow, but until then, I'm afraid that the education of Ponyville's foals lies in your hooves.         Well, perhaps 'afraid' isn't what I really mean.  I confess when I found you in the Chair-tree-use–"         "That's 'chartreuse'."         "Oh, the vomit color!"  Ink chuckled, before turning back to the page.  "…the Chartreuse Café, I was quite desperate, but at the same time, I had never seen you teach.  For all I knew, you were just some pony who had no teaching experience at all.  So I pulled your records…"  Ink looked up very slowly.  "Oh.  Shit."         Twilight turned a very peculiar shade of white, reminiscent of a hemophobe sealed into the vault of a blood bank.  "We're going to prison…"         Ink took a slow breath, and shook his head.  "If she were going to turn me in, I would not be getting a letter.  She is smart.  Blackmail, most likely; she does not know I am a soldier."  He took a slow breath.  "This will be easy to fix.  Is there a musician's shop in town?"         "Musician's shop?"                  Ink nodded.  "I will need you to dig me a trench, and get some lime out of that chemistry lab you keep in your basement.  I will get some piano wire, and…"  Ink slowly realized the look he was earning from the other mare.  "You do not like my solution?  What will you do?  Turn her into frog?"         "That's a ridiculous myth.  Unicorns don't turn other ponies into frogs!  It would need to be something in the same taxonomic class, at least–a dog or a ferret would be a good choice."  It was Twilight's turn to realize what she was saying, and shake her head.  "But that's not the point!  We aren't going to do anything to Cheerilee.  She's an incredibly nice mare, and unlike somepony who comes to mind, she's never hurt anypony."         "Then I suppose I will actually have to pay her what she wants… let's see here…  So I pulled your records, and I was impressed that you had worked as a Professor at West Hoof Military Academy?"         Twilight's eyes widened.  "Wait, you worked at West Hoof?"         Ink chuckled.  "You were supposed to be smart, Twilight. It seems I have… what is the term, bodyguard angel?"         "That would be a 'guardian angel'."         "Meh, bodyguard angel is more badass.  But my point is that Princess lied for me.  I am safe."  Ink's wing burst into flame, incinerating the letter.  "Well, I ought to be at work, then.  Have a good day, Twilight."         "Yeah, you too… I hope Cheerilee is alright.  I'd hate to be stuck away from home for so long." - - - Two Days Earlier         Cheerilee found herself in a surprisingly good mood when she was awoken in the middle of the night in her own hotel bedroom, by a vampony leaning over her sleeping form.  He was a huge burly creature, rather than the thin and gallant stallions who filled the rather intimate fantasies of young attractive schoolteachers everywhere.  He wasn't leaning over her neck to feed on her or… well, the word ravage came to mind.  Still, she imagined she could make do.  Her mind wandered over all the things he could do with those fangs of his, hanging out over the gentle line of his lower lip.         "Good night," he noted with a peculiar accent, helping himself to the free soda provided in the hotel's mini-fridge.  "Thirsty?"         "I could go for something to drink," she answered, biting her lower lip and staring at his flanks, obscured by thin purple armor.  His slitted yellow eyes followed where she was watching, and sighed.         "That is not the purpose of my visit, ma'am."         "Oh, of course not.  You came because you're thirsty.  But that doesn't mean we can't both come too."  She slid a hoof along her side, brushing away the covers and the sheets, whilst simultaneously rubbing over the surface of the three smiling flowers on her juicy flank.         Third Brother growled.  It was a guttural noise, that shook the mirror on the room’s wall in which he was plainly reflected.  "Cheerilee of Ponyville, you are far more conscious than you seem to believe."         She sat up slowly.  "I'm only as conscious as you want me to be, dreamy.  Why don't you come ride me until I pass out?  Then you can drink as much as you want.  I won't stop you."         The stallion's muscles rippled beneath his taut skin, simply from the motion of walking over to the side of the bed.  His eyes stared at her coldly.  "You are entirely awake.  This is not a dream.  And I am here neither to feast on your flesh and blood, nor to take advantage of your weak and frail mortal body with my vastly superior undead form."  Maintaining his straight face, he continued.  "Rather, I am serving as the courier of a thought on behalf of my mistress."         "Mistress?  Sounds kinky.  I'm game."         "Damn it, mare!" he shouted only a few inches from her face, with enough force to disturb her mane.  "I am not a figment of your sexual fantasy!  I come with a proposal from Princess Luna."         Realization swept over Cheerilee like the scent of a coltfriend's fart.  At first, it was merely unpleasant, but then it became downright shocking to the point that she found herself on the verge of fainting from embarrassment.  "Y-you mean I've been awake this whole time?"         "Yes," Third Brother answered.         "And I just said all those things to you…"         "You were quite… descriptive, yes."         Cheerilee gagged, feeling just the slightest tinge of vomit in the back of her throat.  "I-I'm so sorry, mister…"         "I am Third Brother of the Night Guard."  He took a breath to steel himself.  "Princess Luna sends tidings, and wishes you an opportunity.  She wishes you allow Roscherk Krovyu–the stallion you likely know as 'Red Ink'–to continue on as the teacher of Ponyville Elementary for the time being."         "Oh!  Did I do something wrong?"         "This has nothing to do with you, ma'am, and everything to do with Roscherk.  However, Mistress is well aware of the cost of this request, and has offered you recompense.  For so long as he continues to fill your place in Ponyville, the Royal Treasury will supply not only your full salary, as if you were working, but also any expenses accrued by whatever ...pleasures you might enjoy over your extended vacation."         Cheerilee's eyes widened on the verge of dark.  "So you're… offering me a paid vacation?  So I can leave some other pony in charge of my foals?"         Third Brother sighed.  "Mistress had anticipated you might be opposed to the idea, and–"         "I'm in!"         The Night Guard's brow rose sharply.  "I see.  The Princess will need you to draft a letter detailing an excuse for your extended absence.  Then our business will be concluded."         "Okay."  Cheerilee began rummaging around the cheap hotel room for a piece of paper and a quill or pencil.  "Just, uh, please don't mention anything about this."         "I can hardly blame you," Third Brother answered.  "My fear was that you would scream, upon waking to find a strange stallion in a bedroom that you had locked and sealed."         The ensuing silence was very quiet (as silence ought to be).  Cheerilee just stared at Third Brother, who's expressionless face seemed locked on the paper Cheerilee had finally dug out of the nightstand.           Finally, her quill began to scratch.  Third Brother walked over to her side, and placed a wax seal on the table.  "Close the letter with this, and drop it into any mailbox."         "Okay.  Uh, thanks?"         "My pleasure."  Third Brother moved to tall window on the far side of the room, and placed a hoof gently on their surface.  To Cheerilee's shock, the glass rippled like water, allowing the stallion to simply step through.  He was nearly gone when some idea caught his attention, and he briefly turned back.  "I hope I did not offend you with my disinterest in your body, but I am a married stallion.  I will ask Fifth Brother if he should like to come and visit you in the night in my stead.  Sleep well."         Leaving the red-faced, stammering mare behind, Third Brother's leathery wings soared off into the night. Shaking her head, the school teacher rolled over in bed to try and reclaim what little was left of the night's sleep. "I really need to stop reading those stories Twilight lent me..."          - - - September 8th, 1452 A.S. Ponyville Schoolhouse 0937 Hours         "…a thirty-seven percent shift in market value away from fruit-bat guano jelly and toward our own proprietary mix of raspberry and zap-apple jam.  However, this year, the market has fa–"  Filthy Rich cut himself off to glare at the door, where a messy and smoke-stained stallion tromped through the door.  "Oh, I see you've decided to show up at work, finally.  Thankfully, since today is Family Appreciation Day, the foals weren't left alone."         "Kill yourself, Filthy," Roscherk answered, as his eyes swept over the crowd, and the dozen or so adults who had been brought along with them.         The well-to-do earth pony wasn't done with his least favorite educator, however.  "Tell me, Mr. Ink, what was it that was so important that you would show up nearly an hour and a half late for class?"         Roscherk took a moment before answering the stallion's accusatory question.  He spent it walking over to his desk, and dropping the blackened hydra skull from his back onto the wooden surface, where everypony could see.  Only then did he turn to Filthy Rich.  "I killed a hydra this morning in the market, and saved at least twenty lives."  With a snide grin, the much shorter of the two stallions continued.  "How were your stocks this morning?"         Filthy Rich adjusted his necktie.  "Well, in any case, I was quite done with my presentation–"         "Thank 'lestia!" Pipsqueak muttered rather more loudly than he had intended.         "–so I suppose you are 'on time', if only this once."         "Right."  Ink sighed, taking in the crowd of 'adult' ponies mixed in with the foals.  It would probably have helped if he had the slightest clue what 'Family Appreciation Day' was for; maybe it was like what Predvidenie was always talking about, where he would just sit and watch the value of his holdings appreciate... but that would be an awful boring day for the foals.         He cleared his thoughts with a shake of his head, and swept once more over the crowd.  The 'Cutie Mark Crusaders' had brought their respective elder sisters.  Rarity was in mild shock at the blackened skull sitting on the desk, Applejack was occupied picking her teeth, and Rainbow Dash seemed frankly bored.  At the pegasus’ side was the gray, blond-maned mare whose furious stare had haunted at least a few of his nightmares for the past week.  She seemed occupied with the brown paper bag sitting on Dinky's desk.  Further into the class were a few more ponies that Ink didn't recognize.         Buffing up his false bravado, the stallion nodded, preparing a plan which even the bravest of military minds would label suicidal.  "Since we have so many adult ponies in our classroom today, I think today would be a good time to teach a lesson I promised you the first day of class."  The foals' eyes widened as Ink removed his jacket.  "So, can the Harmony ponies please come up to the front of the classroom with me?"         After a moment of confusion, Rainbow, Rarity, and Applejack made their way to where Ink was waiting.  With a surprisingly casual motion, his hoof tossed the teacher's desk against the wall.  A few eyes widened at the display of strength, though at least one earth pony farmer seemed unimpressed.         "Alright, class.  Today, we are learning about magic."         The cheers were deafening.  The pale fade of the adults faces were, by contrast, completely silent.         "So here is a question I should ask first.  Parents, family, whatever you are today; you can answer too.  I am curious how many Equestrians know these words.  We will start with easy question.  What is the real name for 'unicorn magic'?"         A huge number of blank stares met the stallion's question, but Dinky Doo raised a hoof after a long pause.  Ink nodded in her direction.  "Yes, Dinky?"         "Well, when Miss Twilight is teaching me magic, sometimes she calls it 'Arcana'."         "Ah, close.  It's Arcana.  You have to italicize it."  Ink earned a few strained stares for the awkward emphasis he had placed on the word.  "But still, impressive.  I had not believed a foal would know.  Now, Rarity, you are here."         She seemed confused at the comment.  "Uh, yes, that is correct.  Did you want me to do something?"         The Stalliongradian nodded.  "Something impressive, with magic.  You must know some trick, yes?"         "Well, a lady does not boast."         Ink slapped his face.  "I am not telling you to boast.  Boast is to talk about yourself with inflated ego, because you are so smart and know so much about money and all the ponies love you for stupid railroads, and…"  His words trailed off as he realized he was rambling.  "Point is, you must do something."         "Well, I suppose if you're going to put me on the spot…"  Rarity seemed a bit irked as her horn ignited with the pale tone of her magic.  After a moment's focus, the walls of the room faded into a sort of brilliant red backdrop.  An upbeat music could be heard from all around, and a startling pattern of gems danced across the surface.  After a few long seconds of the illusion, Rarity released her spell, and the classroom returned.         Ink sighed.  "I should have gotten Sparkle."         After scoffing, Rarity held a hoof to her mouth.  "Well, we'll just have to see if she can fix your coat the next time you tear it, then."         Completely blowing off the mare, Ink turned to Applejack.  "Now, harder question.  What is Earth Pony magic called?"         "Uh, Ah weren't so sure we actually had magic…"         "Endura," Rainbow Dash noted under her breath, causing Ink's brow to rise.         "You know about Endura, Rainbow Dash?  I am suppose that I should not be surprised, learning with the Honor Guard–"         "I don't want to talk about it," Rainbow interrupted, folding her forehooves of her chest as she hovered near the upper corner of the classroom.  "Teach your stupid lesson."         "As you wish," Ink replied.  "Yes, Applejack, earth ponies have magic.  I am sure you use it, even if you do not know it.  So does the pink one…"  After the flash of a sneer, Ink looked out at the crowd.  "Does anypony have any guesses as to what Endura actually does?"         "It lets you dodge things!"  Scootaloo shouted, without bothering to raise her hoof.  "And it makes you super-strong, and huge, and–"         "Quiet, Scootaloo! "  Applebloom whispered all-too forcefully.  "We promised we wouldn't say nothin'."         "I didn't say it was Resistant who–"         "Shut!  Up!"         Pinching his brow, Ink flared his wings wide open, and allowed them to burst into flame.  Everypony was instantly quiet.  After a moment of smoldering, the stallion released his power, and put the feathered appendages back at his sides.  "Thank you for paying attention, girls.  Now, what do we use here?"         Applebloom and Scootaloo sighed.  "Uvazheniye."         Ink's eye twitched, but he nodded nevertheless.  "Correct.  Now be quiet, so I can teach you interesting things.  Applejack, how old are you?"         With a cross expression, Applejack answered Roscherk.  "That ain't a question ya just ask a mare in front of a crowd, Sugarcube."         Ink answered by shrugging.  "Alright, I will guess.  You are… forty five?  Fifty?"         A moment later, Ink pulled himself out of the wall, and Applejack lowered her legs from the forceful buck she had delivered to his chest.         "How rude, Mr. Ink!" Rarity added, as the farmer herself seemed unwilling to offer comment.         "It was meant as a compliment," Ink gasped, slapping himself to force the wind back into his lungs.  A gasping breath restored the volume to his voice.  "I certainly will not look so good when I am forty.  One thing Endura does is keep a pony younger for much longer.  This is why earth ponies live longer than pegasi or unicorns.  I knew a stallion in Stol'nograd who had his one-hundred twelfth birthday a year ago.  He looked like Filthy."         "It's Mister Rich," Diamond Tiara's father interjected.         Twist raised a hoof, and received a nod from Ink.  "Tho Mr. Ink, ith thith why Granny Thmith thayth that the wath actually there for the founding of Ponyville, even though that wath more than two hundred yearth ago?"         After mentally decoding that riddle, Roscherk nodded.  "I would not be surprised if this 'Granny Smith' you speak of is more than two-hundred.  Rare but not unheard of.  Especially if she worked a job with a great deal of labor when she was young."         "She's our Granny," Applejack explained.  "She used ta run the farm.  But I always thought she was just bein' senile when she told me we didn't need ta celebrate her birthday til she turned two-hundred and ten."         "Well, now you know."  Roscherk smiled gently, and received a smile in turn.  Unfortunately, his smile still included a decent sized bruise where she had struck him.  After a lingering moment of awkwardness that reminded him of his first introduction to Twilight Sparkle, he turned to the class.  "Endura is hard to show off, but very useful for many pony.  It grants strength, and speed, and endurance.  It lets user stay young, sense danger, and in rare case, regenerate their wounds with speed.  Watch this!"         And then, with no further warning, he returned Applejack's earlier favor, bucking her squarely in the jaw.  The class, and their family members, generally shrieked and reacted poorly, but where Ink had been thrown across the room, Applejack needed only shake her head to clear her thought and restore the anger that ought to have been present in her expression.  Ink was prepared to dodge her oncoming assault, and so found himself quite literally blind-sided when Rainbow Dash belted him across the face with a hoof.         The sound of thunder heralded his body being lifted off the ground and flung over the heads of the foals, so that he tumbled as a blood-colored ball into the far side of the room.  The students rose in shock as Rainbow leapt across the room with the aid of her wings, and laid to work on the stallion.         "I've had it with you, guardspony!  Nopony hurts my friends!"         Her hoof came up and down on his face at least a dozen times, even as the others in the room cried out.  "Rainbow, stop!"         "Ah ain't hurt, Rainbow!"         Finally, it was Roscherk who'd had enough.  Pressing his wings against the floor for support, he rolled up onto his back so that his hind hooves were directed at Rainbow's chest.  Then, surging with all the might of his overdeveloped musculature, he lashed out at her.         It was Rainbow's turn to be thrown back, with a lower arc than Roscherk.  She flew into the desks of the schoolfoals, knocking several aside and toppling their desks and seats.           It was not Red Ink who rose from the floor at the back of the room, but Roscherk Krovyu, Commandant of the Black Cloaks and Warden of Stalliongrad.  His wings, forelegs, and mane burned with a fire to haunt nightmares.  Blood leaked from a split lip and a bruised muzzle, though the droplets that fell away sizzled in the air.  Sparks danced from his form as he walked forward.  His heaving breaths were dry, popping every few seconds like a fire.           Roscherk Ink recoiled for a moment, and then managed to put out the flames on his body.  They didn't seem to trust him anymore, but they did not run.         "I'm sorry, I should not have let myself get so engrossed.  That was Empatha – pegasus magic.  It controls fire, as I used it, and air, as Rainbow Dash did."  Then, with a slight hint of inspiration, he winked very pointedly at her.  "Because our magic is powered by emotions, it can be scary, and violent, but it also has good uses."         "Like what?" Filthy Rich asked scornfully.  "I've only ever heard of it being used by renegade guardsponies."         "What's that supposed to mean, daddy?" Diamond Tiara asked.         Rather than looking at his daughter, Filthy Rich smiled at Ink.  "I think it's past time everypony here knew who you really are, 'Mister Ink'."         Ink's eyes widened as the class turned on him.  "Uh, well, I'm–" "What do you mean, daddy?" Filthy Rich shook his head as he glanced to his daughter. "Why don't you ask your friends there?" After a gesture with his hoof, the wealthy earth pony moved out of the way of a little colt who seemed quite calm for being on fire. His eyes were more resolute than any Ink could imagine. Try as he might, the stallion could not find the strength to look away. "My name is Unyielding. Do you remember me, Mr. Ink?" Before Ink could answer, the throbbing in his temple from Rainbow's blow overwhelmed him, and he crumpled onto the floor. - - - A Location Eventually         "–okay?" a murky voice asked in the dark.         "Ah think–"  the distinct voice faded out for a moment, along with a surge of pain in Ink's temple.  "–shouldn't have done that, Rainbow."         "Well he attacked you!"         "I would not say he did not deserve it," offered a stallion's voice, familiar and yet distant.  What followed were a gasp, a scream, and a blood-curdling shriek respectively.  Ink wished he could have his ears cut off as the sound continued ringing.         "What the–" a momentary pop stole the sound from Ink's ears.  "–'re you?"         Rainbow's voice interrupted before the stallion could answer.  "Oh, phew.  Uh, Rarity, AJ, this is Third Brother.  He works for Princess Luna."         "Ladies," the Night Guard offered, without even the slightest hint of patronization.  "Apologies for startling you."         Rarity, who still seemed rather shaken, replied.  "What are you doing in my house?"         "Performing my duty," Third Brother replied calmly.  "On an unrelated note, you should lock your attic windows at night."         "Wha–"         "We have more important things to worry about."  And then came the sensation of a frigid coat against Ink's neck.  He shifted lightly, and received a great pain for his trouble.  "As I was saying, Rainbow Dash, I have no doubt that he deserved it.  However, in the future, should you feel the need to punch somepony you dislike like, I would encourage you to spare them your magic."         "I wasn't trying to hurt him!  I was just pissed off–"         "And that is the danger of Empatha.  It seems almost poetic that was on the receiving end for once in his life."         The scoffing voice of Rarity cut in.  "I don't know who you think you are, sir, but talking about him that way behind his back is not something I will stand for."         The stallion somehow made a shrugging noise.  "He is awake now, though I do not know how long it will be before he can speak or open his eyes.  He can hear us, and I imagine most of his hallucinations will have faded by now."                  Ink tasted dried blood in his mouth as he struggled to move it.  "Mares, I could use a gin and tonic, and a pillow, if you do not mind," he told them.         What came out of his mouth was more akin to "Aggh agmma…"         "Ah.  I see," the stallion noted.  "I will have a doctor sent."         "Just what we needed, Rainbow; ya gave him brain damage."         "I just hit him!  It wasn't even a lightning bolt, and Deadeye survived that…"  Rainbow Dash's voice trailed off with what Ink recognized as a tone of regretful loss.  In order to convey his state, he pushed himself upright.         "Whoa Nelly!  Mr. Ink, that ain't a good idea–"         After the world finished spinning, he held up a hoof and offered a smile, only slightly counteracted by his split lip and the trail of blood leading down from his face.  His eyes squeezed open to reveal the hazy, swimming faces of three mares and a 'stallion'.   "I… fine.  No need for…"  Shaking his head, the stallion struggled to remember his words.  "What is Equiish way?  I am being well?"         "Oh, Celestia, I actually did buck him stupid."  Rainbow hid the blob that was her face beneath similarly shaped hooves.  "Great, now Twilight's gonna be mad at me."         "He'll be fine in a week or two," Third Brother replied calmly.  "I had feared he would be unconscious for several days, rather than a few hours.  He ought to recover his faculties, given time.  Now, I must depart."         Ink leaned forward, trying to bring the gray creature into focus.  Third Brother recoiled.  "You are being doctor on me?"         "Wow, that was bad…" Rainbow noted, earning a harsh glare from Rarity.                  "No, I have only been watching from the shadows, Roscherk, doing what little I can to aid you on my Mistress' behalf."  A beautiful description of the way his tongue danced nimbly over his fangs might have been appropriate, had Ink's eyes been able to appreciate it.  Instead, he only saw the outline of a pony walking away into the blurry back of the room.  "Я надеюсь, тебя минует моя судьба, Росчерк."         The stallion's unfocused eyes widened.  "You are speaking–?"         "До свидания," Third Brother cried, before bursting into a cloud of bats and disappearing.         Rarity and Rainbow exchanged a brief glance, before the latter broke into a wide smile.  "That was so awesome…"         "I dare say I must disagree.  Even had he not broken into my home, bats are unsanitary, disgusting, blood-sucking creatures that–"         "Shutting up!"  Ink pounded a hoof that echoed his pounding headache.  "Here is boot teak?"         "Huh?"                  "He's asking if this is the boutique; I thought you of all ponies might appreciate a bit of linguistic difficulty, Applejack."  The purple stripe over Rarity's white blob shifted slightly, so that it was pointed 'toward' Ink.  "Yes, we are at Carousel Boutique, Mr. Ink–"         Somewhere, a poet wept.         "–and it has been… three hours since your unfortunate lesson.  Can I get you anything?"         Ink pondered, and then nodded.  "Up."         "I… don't think I follow."         "You can getting me up.  Not class miss."         "Oh dear, Mr. Ink, you see…"         Applejack's slightly more defined blob (which now featured a pair of smaller green blobs) spoke up.  "Don't be an idiot, Mr. Ink.  Y' ain't fit to stand, much less teach mah sister 'bout magic and fancy tricks 'n whatnot.  You lay down this instant and wait for a doctor."         In response to her request, Ink rolled over on his side, and dropped his hooves to the floor.  Rarity's plush carpet was quite a pleasant feature for the stallion to discover with his chin.  Balancing on shaky legs amidst the struggling hooves of three mares, he 'spoke', with some degree of success.         "Am Commandant.  Black Clock.  убийца.  I fight many battle bleeding, bruises and wounds.  Worse of much than face punch from mare who has even never killed dragon."         Rainbow held her tongue at the comment, though her brow grew darker.         "If I can fight, can learn many foal.  Simple, yes.  Beside, who is now with foals?"         Rainbow took the opportunity to answer.  "Some unicorn came by.  A total egghead; you could pretty much smell it."         "Rainbow!  Care at least a touch."         "Well, it's true.  I mean, his name was Four Eyes, wasn't it?"         Roscherk growled, and limped forward.  "Show him me."         "Why ever so angry, Mr. Ink?"         "Remind me of somepony.  Wanting to punch." - - - Ponyville Schoolhouse 1340 Hours         Roscherk had regained not only most of his sight, but also motor skills.  He was imitating a rather elegant limp by the time he and the three mares in his company made their way through the little door of the school.         "…and then you simply take the integral of the vector triple-product generated by aggregate market shift and your net exports, and–"         "Mr. Ink!  You're alive!"         "Yay!"         "Make him stop!"         Ink was swarmed by a tide of foals, who did a rather impressive job of toppling the most dangerous stallion of Stalliongrad.  After Applejack and Rainbow Dash helped him back to his hooves, he finally got a glance across the room.           "Teaching pony.  What are name?"         Across the still rather hazy room, from behind a tall backed, rounded black chair that Ink was sure hadn't been there before came the stallion's voice again.  "You don't recognize my voice?  Oh dear, Roscherk.  I hope you don't have amnesia, as well as a loss of word processing.  Or has your Equiish actually gotten worse in your time here?"         "Amnesia?" Rarity asked.  "That terrible plot point from my romance stories?"         "Amnesia is a terrible plot point in fiction, yes," the stallion answered without turning to face the mare.  "It is also the unfortunate but altogether realistic effect of blunt force trauma to the skull, particularly when assisted by magic."         "Answering I!" Ink shouted, before wincing at the volume of his own voice.  "Who?"         "Always so anxious, Mr. Ink?  And here I thought you might have learned some manners."   The stallion seated in the chair turned slowly around to face Roscherk.  He was a tallish unicorn, with a beautifully groomed blue coat and a darkly golden mane.  A thin, dried red scar ran through his left eyelid, from his brow down to his chin, beneath the lenses of a pair of gold-framed glasses.  A luxurious red scarf was wrapped tightly around the neck of his gray neighru jacket.  Resting against his hind legs, Rarity's white cat purred slowly, enjoying the attentions of the stallion's hoof.  "It's been a long time, hasn't it, brother?"  He paused to briefly play with the line where the cat had scratched his eye.         "Предвидение? Какого тут тобой делается?"         "Oh, Celestia," The stallion sighed, taking his hoof from the cat.  "I had assumed it would just be your Equiish.  Let's not butcher our mother tongue, when your vocabulary is 'fine' in the local dialect.  And on that note, you're welcome to use 'Foresight' for the sake of our listeners."         "Be killing yourself, Predvinie," Ink answered rather flatly, in what could honestly be described as his usual greeting.  A few of the foals seemed confused by this, but Twist's eyes widened with a terrible realization, before diving beneath her desk and covering her head.  Ink continued unabated.  "And why should any care being…"         "Be given," Foresight suggested.         "I can to talk for myself," Ink snapped, before shaking his head.           "Uh, no, ya really can't, sugarcube."         Ink's stare would have launched a thousand ships in the course of evacuating nearly any major city.  He turned slowly toward the front of the class and rolled his eyes.  "You teaching of my students money tricks?"         Foresight adjusted his scarf in a manner that might best be described as 'toolish', and nodded.  "Nothing that complicated, of course.  They are elementary students, after all."         "Please make him stop," Scootaloo pleaded, looking desperate.  "My head felt like it was going to explode."         "Oh, that problem not been."  Ink smiled like a feral cat.  "Predvidenie, am I telling them stories of Lady Padayuschaja Zvezda?"         Foresight smiled back, just as predatorily as Ink had.  "If you're thinking of blackmail, brother, you'd best consider that it isn't a game played alone."                  Ink growled.  "What do you know that I don't?"         At the query, Foresight chuckled, and rose from his seat.  "The things I know that you don’t could fill libraries, Roscherk.  And crumble empires."  Adjusting his scarf subconsciously, the stallion added "And I do mean that entirely literally."         Roscherk Krovyu briefly toyed with the concept of just what mysterious object had found filled the gaping plot hole that dominated his brother's personality.  Whatever it was, the pegasus was sure of two things: it had to be massive, and it hadn't seen the light of day in at least a decade.         Predvidenie continued.  "Perhaps I'll tip my hoof for this.  Some of my students told me that their dear substitute teacher, Mr. Ink, had told them all about the history of Stalliongrad."         "Be saying right!"         "Oh, little 'Red Ink' can't stand a pun?"  Foresight nickered with amusement.  "Very well.  You told your students all about Stol'nograd.  All the grim bloody truth.  You even used real names.  Isn't that right, Roscherk Krovyu?"         Ink's eyes widened slowly, as did those of at least a few of his students.         Foresight paced forward calmly, walking amongst the student's desks to approach his dizzy brother.  "I can see at least a few of them have already put together the dots.  I wonder how many more will realize the truth when an alicorn comes walking in here and calls you his son."         "Father?  Father is here?"         "Father and I took a trip to the Crystal Empire.  I think Father was interested in their social system, since they don't have the same racial stratification–"         "Stop, Predvidenie."         "What?"         "If talking like Haynd Rend novel, I am sparing trouble to choking scarf.  Ugly."         Rarity glanced at the accessory and shook her head.  "I dare say you're being foalish here, Mr. Ink.  That scarf is a Prench silk masterpiece; I'd love to work with fabric that nice.  It must have cost a fortune.  Would you trouble me with where you purchased it?"         "An eye for fashion?" Predvidenie asked.  Ink gagged aloud.  "Well, my dear Miss Rarity–"         "You know my name?"         "How could an educated stallion not recognize a heroine like yourself on sight?"         Rarity swooned.  Foresight caught her gently, even as he tugged off his scarf and wrapped it around her neck.  "This little prize was a gift from Duchess Couture of Mareis, though I have a few spares back in Burning Hearth Castle."         Rainbow joined Roscherk in his retching.         "I can't possibly take this–"         "Of course not.  I propose a trade; you are a seamstress, or so I hear.  I should very much like to add one of your works to my collection.  Call this my payment."         Finally, unable to contain herself, Rainbow moaned an instinctual word.                  "Gaaaaaaaay!"         Not that there's anything wrong with that…         Foresight winced, and then turned to Rainbow slowly.  "I am growing quite tired of the rampant homophobia of some ponies.  However, I will note that, were you to hear my brother's oh-so-threatening childhood embarrassment of mine, you would know quite well the reality of my more private pursuits."         Ink coughed loudly into his hoof, gathering the attention of the class.  Then he turned to Twist (who was still hiding beneath her desk, eyes wide), and gave her an incredibly corny wink.  His mouth permitted out only a single word.         "Lollypopth."         As the class erupted into laughter, Foresight buried a face in his hoof in slow motion.  "You know, Roscherk, some ponies might accuse you of being a foal."         "That being always why you are to call me bully?  Looking glasses needs broken."         Foresight smiled.  "Oh, good.  For a moment, I was concerned you were a changeling or something; were you running short on the threats of abject violence, or just having a good day?"                  "I am snapping horn off."         A wince offered prelude the ensuing silence, and Ink realized what he had just said in front of his students.  Shaking his head, Foresight made his way toward the door, and then stopped.  "To answer your earlier question properly, Father, our escort, and I were on our way home via Canterlot, expecting to catch you again, when… well, let's just say a little bat told me that we could find you here.  I'll go fetch father."         "He coming here?"         "Not here, but nearby.  You're living in the library with Twilight Sparkle, correct?"         Ink nodded.         "If you've slept with her, Roscherk, I will be very upset with you.  She is a very nice mare."         "So was… Kselia…Ksevia…"         Foresight removed his glasses gently, as his face began to turn red.  "Her name was Ksenia, Roscherk.  For all the times you tell that stupid story, you ought to at least remember her name!"         "Worth paying–"         "That is not a story for children, though I suppose you wouldn't understand, since you've never grown up!  Teach your foals how to kill each other, or how to get stone-drunk and wake up in a puddle of their own vomit in an alley so their older siblings have to come and find them!  I can't imagine you actually know how to do anything else!"           And with that, the unicorn stepped outside and slammed the door.         "…wow," Rainbow muttered.         Ink sighed, and looked around the class.  "Happy Day Family Appreciation?"