Much to the disappointment of Discord, his freedom had taken a bit too long to arrive, the crack slowly spreading as the spell weakened. It had taken one whole day for it to wear away enough for Discord’s own chaotic nature would overpower the harmony that kept him bound. Of course, it was all aided by the dawn of a new day.
“Oh, good gravy, that took forever!” the draconequus stretched his limbs, the mismatched appendages falling off when his back popped. “Ooh, yeah, that feels great!”
Yay, you’re free, Nikhilus deadpanned. Now for your end of the bargain?
“Hold on, I’m getting there,” one scaly arm began to inch its way towards Mr. N’s pedestal. “Well, kind of.”
The arm was just about to touch the granite before the hand started panting from feigned exertion, drops of sweat rolling down the wrist. It wiped the sweat away with a “Phew!” and lightly tapped Nikhilus’ statue.
“There you go, old pal,” Discord said, now in one piece. “Whoever said I didn’t keep my promises? You should be out in, say...seven days, tops.”
What?! You’re leaving me here for a week? Eh, whatever, I’ve been here for fifty-five years, what’s another seven days?
“That’s the spirit! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some revenge to take, ponies to corrupt, the usual.” Discord snapped his paw, and he was gone, a puff of green smoke in his place.
Now all that was left for Nikhilus to wait seven days for the spell to wear off. Nothing too special.
89 trillion, 917 billion, 412 million, 27 thousand and four bottles of rum in the hold, 89 trillion, 917 billion, 412 million, 27 thousand and four bottles of rum! You take own out, guzzle it down, 89 trillion, 917 billion, 412 million, 27 thousand and three bottles of rum in the hold…
[/HR]
The moonlight shone brightly in the sky, glinting brilliantly off of the river down below. The air hummed with a chorus of sounds, insects buzzing their mating songs, leaves rustling in the light summer breeze, pollen carried aloft in the embrace of twisting air currents. On the ground, the tall grass whispered and waved in the soft night. Small clouds were scattered in the sky, decoration from Cloudsdale that cast shadows on the earth as they passed over the moon above.
Yet all of this was largely unappreciated as the small town of Ponyville slept, unknowing of the few that trotted down the main street, bathed in the shadows of the thatch-roofed bungalows and houses in the town.
One of them stopped in the middle of the street, the moon high on the dusk-shrouded horizon sending a silhouette, tall and disfigured, to rest on the road. The abnormally tall pony turned to look at the full moon, and almost basked in its glowing light. A whisper of silence reminded him of his mission, and he turned away, his shadow flickering from existence as suddenly as it appeared.
The pony crept swiftly to the shadows of an abandoned home, three dark shapes dressed in the same black robes as he. “What’d you do that for?” one form, a mare by the tone, hissed.
“Just enjoying the beautiful night,” Eoin whispered evenly. “Why else do you think I still go on these trips? Because it certainly isn’t the pay.”
“None of us do it for the pay,” another shadow murmured.
The four of them nodded in agreement in the noise of the quiet, creaks and groans of homes as they settled punctuating the silence. As one, the four Nightingales, as that is what they called themselves, moved on as if they were never there, and when the town had awoken, none would be the wiser.
Their mission was simple: get to the orphanage, leave the money inside, then get out.
Separately, the four darted past moonlit alleys, holding low to the ground and dawdling not a second longer. When it had turned Eoin’s time, he heard the faintest of whimpers as he passed the alley. On the other side, he froze. As the Spectre had taught the Nightingales before they gave themselves the name, if you think you’ve been found, freeze and don’t move a muscle.
That’s what he did, and when the other three turned to look at Eoin, they followed suit and waited...a sniffle floated out of the alley. The Nightingales shook their heads, already knowing what was up, silently pleading for Eoin to not. Fucking. Do it.
Well, of course he fucking did it.
Eoin turned around and peered into the alley, sticking his head in the opening just enough to see most of the other side without casting a shadow. There were a few boxes, all stacked together neatly next to a garbage can. He held still for a moment, and the moments turned into minutes. The other Nightingales had left Eoin behind, all he was needed for was to help keep an eye open, and he was known throughout the Underground as the sharpest eye in Equestria, able to tell the differences between one pebble and another with a passing glance.
To almost all Nightingales, that very sound was the worst to hear. It was the sound of abandonment, and it was something everyone in the Underground was working to remove from the world. Every so often, a pony falls through the gaps in the Equestrian welfare net. All too often, the real numbers are much larger than the published statistics.
All too often, nopony cared.
Eoin knew exactly what was going on here. It seemed that even here in Ponyville, there was bound to be a pony left on the streets. And it was absurd! There was an orphanage just two blocks away, and yet...It seemed to Eoin that it was in need of the money more than they had thought.
The half-Deer picked apart the carefully constructed box home that was well-disguised as a simple stack. In the center was a little orange filly that was too small to be alone in the streets, curled up under a threadbare and dirty blanket. She couldn’t have been more than five!
Eoin made his decision, and he pulled off his cloak, a Lunar Beret, a copy of Nikhilus’ Novan symbol, adorning his mane. In one smooth movement, the filly was wrapped comfortably in the cloak, held close to his barrel with one arm. The filly accepted the stranger’s embrace and nuzzled down into the cloak, a little paper cap falling off to reveal a matted purple mane, almost the same hue as Eoin’s silver-streaked hair. It was as if…
“Eoin! The job’s done, we don’t need to be here anymore!”
The former smuggler glanced over his shoulder at the three Nightingales. “You don’t need to be here anymore, but I do.” He turned to show them the filly in his embrace, snoring softly and at peace.
At once, the Nightingales’ hearts melted, each one now knowing that the best smuggler in the Underground was now out.
The mare flicked her hood back, a bright blue coat and magenta eyes being overshadowed by her rainbow mane shone even in the shadows. “Y’know...she’s kinda cute. What’s her name?”
As if she was awake, the little pegasus sighed “Scoo...loo...” in reply.
Eoin chuckled softly, “Scootaloo, I guess. I live not too far from here, so I’ll take her home. I’ll sort out all the details later in the morning.”
Rainbow Dash scoffed, “You think you’re gonna watch over her yourself? I recently got assigned this area by the brass in Cloudsdale, so I’ll be here, too.”
“Yeah,” Eoin nodded, looking at the sleeping child with a smile. “Alright.”
[/HR]
“Hey, Pop! I’m off to the train station!” Scootaloo called to her adoptive father, who was sipping glumly at his coffee.
“You think you’re gonna leave without giving your old man a hug?” Eoin set his mug down on the table before limping to his daughter of eleven years. It had been six years since the night he found her, and it was like a dream come true for the filly. Since then, she had completely accepted where she came from, and even though Eoin had told her the truth, Scootaloo would always know him as her Pop.
The two fell into a hug that lasted a while, Eoin releasing a contented sigh. “What’s a man?” Scootaloo wondered aloud, the weird word sticking into her mind at an angle.
The little family pulled away from one another, and Eoin smiled almost sadly. “I’ll tell you when you get back from Canterlot.”
“Why not now?”
“Because if I tell you now, the picture won’t form properly,” the bookish stallion grinned.
“If you say so,” she said. “I’m gonna be late, so Iloveyouokaybye!”
Scootaloo darted out the door, wings fluttering excitedly. Eoin allowed himself one more smile as he gazed at the door happily. “They grow up so fast,” he said, remembering when he had found her in that alley as if it was just yesterday.
[/HR]
Applebloom was annoyed. Every question her sister asked was answered with a “yes” or a “no,” and while she could appreciate the concern, she had felt that it was wholly unnecessary.
“AJ, we’re jus’ goin’ ta Canterlot, ‘tain’t th’ Everfree!”
“Ah know, l’il sis, but it’sw mah job ta worry when yer goin’ outta town,” Applejack said as she straightened her sister’s bow for the umpteenth time. “Now, are yah sure that you’ve got everythin’?”
Applebloom rolled her eyes, “Yeah, AJ. Ah gots everythin’.”
“Good, now off with ya. don’t wanna be late for th’ trip,” Applejack gave her sister one final hug as the two said their goodbyes.
“Ah won’t!” Applebloom called as she walked towards the station just as Scootaloo zoomed into the CMC’s agreed upon meeting spot.
Sweetie Belle, who had just recently gotten over her cold, noticed her pegasus friend’s energy. “Why are you so excited, Scoots? I thought school trips bored you?”
Scootaloo shook her head, “Yeah, but not this one!”
“What makes it so different?” Applebloom piped in as she joined the circle.
“My dad says that we’re gonna meet an old friend of his when we reach the gardens!”
“So?” Sweetie prompted, eyebrow raised.
“So,” Scootaloo took a deep breath, “any friend of my dad’s is probably gonna be awesome!”
Applebloom frowned a little bit, “How d’ya know that? What if he isn’t?”
“I know because my dad has known Rainbow Dash for a long time, and he won’t not be awesome. I just know,” Scootaloo sat on her haunches, her mind completely made up.
Sweetie Belle sighed, “If you say so. I’ll still remain sceptical about all this, ‘cuz somethin’ smells kinda fishy.”
Applebloom tilted her head, “Wha’s septi-, uh, skeppi-, erm, that word, mean?”
“It means that she’s not going to believe what I say just because,” Scootaloo said in a bit of monotone. Then she noticed her friends looking at her like she had grown another leg where her Cutie Mark should be. “What?”
“Ah din’t think you was a dictionary.”
“Yeah, me neither. Where’d you learn that, anyhow?”
“My dad,” Scootaloo sighed. “He always says that ‘knowledge is power,’ and ‘last words are for fools who haven’t said enough.’ Yeah, he’s weird like that.”
“Oh, that old freak you call a ‘dad’?” The air immediately took on a sour note as Diamond Tiara cut in on the conversation. “My daddy told me that he was half-Deer. A freak, just like his blank-flank ‘daughter’.” Tiara had stabbed at Scootaloo’s pride, and twisted with that last, twisted emphasis.
“Yeah,” Silver Spoon, the pink filly’s lackey, added almost uselessly. “And I don’t think it helps that you’re adopted!”
“Hey, butt out, will ya? Ya don’t need ta be in our conversation, anyhow, so jus’ leave!” Applebloom said as she placed a comforting arm over her pegasus friend’s shoulders.
Scootaloo shrugged off her friend’s yellow hoof before she opened her mouth, “It doesn’t matter. I know I’m adopted, and I’m proud of it! That just means I have a dad that cares to tell me the truth, instead of pampering me like some prized doll!” Scootaloo started advancing on Diamond Tiara. “You’re not even worth it, you’ve been bullying us for years, just because we’re different?
“So what, if I’m a blank-flank. My dad told me that he hadn’t gotten his Cutie Mark until he already owned his own house. He says, ‘It matters not where you live, or what rank of life you hold, the evil or the blessing will reach you all.’”
That brought blank stares and weird facial expressions from all four of the others. They looked at one another for a clue, then turned to Scootaloo.
“It means that good or bad things will happen to you, no matter who you are,” she deadpanned. Realization dawned on the small group as they thought about it a little.
Then the train whistled.