//------------------------------// // Chapter 11: Horse Feathers // Story: An Alien in Need, is a Friend Indeed // by Word Worthy //------------------------------// Fluttershy awoke to the sounds of birds chirping excitedly just outside her second-story window. Lulled from her pleasant dreams by the serene avian calls, she let out a long, soft yawn and hopped out of the quilted folds of her bed. Golden shafts of sunlight brightened the wooden surfaces of the room, and the inherent coziness of her cottage just by sight alone brought a smile on Fluttershy’s face. Not every part of her was as pleased to be greeted by so pleasant a morning, however. Fluttershy’s stomach had definitely woken up too, and was quick to let her know that she hadn’t eaten anything for the past eight or so hours that she'd been asleep. “Oh my,” Fluttershy murmured with a chuckle, as her stomach rumbled like a prowling manticore. Donning her morning purple-white robe from a clothes rack that stood near the door, Fluttershy immediately went downstairs to start breakfast. As she made her way to the kitchen, Fluttershy was starting to become curious as to what Angel Bunny was doing, since his bed near the base of the stairs was empty. It didn’t take long before she was able to figure that out. Fluttershy heard the bizarre spectacle that was taking place in her kitchen before actually seeing it. A couple of high-pitched, whispering voices were issuing out towards her. When she peered around the corner, she saw that Angel himself was perched on a countertop, standing impatiently as four stubby bipeds roughly the pegasus’ height bustled about the room, accompanied by some of Fluttershy’s animal friends. Her entrance had been so quiet, that she was able to watch the group go about their business without them noticing her. The tallest of the bipeds, clad in red armor and a two-pronged backpack, was leafing through a cookbook near Angel. She was glancing between the book and the rabbit with frequent nods, murmuring to Angel about what ingredients he wanted her to prepare, and by what means. The other three bipeds were wearing matching orange suits with triangular backpacks, which Fluttershy immediately recognized. One of the trio of orange Unggoy was curiously browsing Fluttershy’s fridge with a raccoon, who was nibbling happily on half of a leftover clover and tomato sandwich. Another was going back and forth, sampling various foods that a group of mice and chipmunks were offering, taking off his mask in brief intervals to place the food into his mouth. He seemed to particularly enjoy the cheese. The last grunt was poking a stubby finger at various appliances before stopping at a toaster, unsure of its function. Fluttershy stared on at them with wide-eyed surprise, unsure if she should greet them or not. Did they know Dadab, perhaps? Before she could make up her mind on how to make her presence known, Fluttershy’s obnoxious stomach decided for her. All four Unggoy nearly jumped out of their combat harnesses with cries of shock, as they turned towards the direction of the low-pitched rumbling and grumbling. “Uhh…” Fluttershy could only stand and blush with an embarrassed smile as the aliens regarded her with wide eyes. “Hello?” “Wah, it’s one of the hoofed natives!” the Unggoy major cried. “This must be her dwelling!” the minor at the fridge added. The grunt who had been analyzing the toaster broke out in rapid Sangheili. “Meio, qutashi tana! Qutashi tana!” “She’s gonna eat us! Flee!” the fourth urged. “No, wait...please? I'm not going to eat you. I'm a friend!” Fluttershy implored, attempting to follow the grunts as they all bolted out of the kitchen’s wide bay window, which had been left open. “Oh dear…” Returning with a disappointed sigh, Fluttershy was met with the curious gaze of her animal friends, as well as the disapproving stare of Angel Bunny. Fluttershy’s large cyan eyes swiveled to regard the open window, then returned to Angel, narrowed with concern. “I truly hope they’re alright out there. I should tell Twilight and the others about this right away…” Angel frowned and gestured towards the fridge, which was still open. Uneaten food was laying around in places, and one of the Unggoy had dropped their plasma pistol onto the tiled floor in the panic. Having mostly recovered from her surprise, Fluttershy smiled again. Between her stomach’s involvement in the events of the past few minutes, and Angel’s gesturing, it was obvious the universe was telling her something. “Oh, okay, breakfast first. But no carrot until lunch, mister.” Carefully picking up the plasma pistol and putting it in a cupboard with a nervous squeak, Fluttershy then directed the animals still lingering around to help out, and within a few minutes, the whole cottage was soon filled with the aroma of fresh pancakes, and the crackle of sizzling eggs. At a table in Café L'Août, one of Canterlot’s most cosmopolitan restaurants, Rarity and the former shipmistress Chur’R-Yar sat patiently with smiles plastered on their faces in the poshly decorated dining room, while three representatives from the House of Outrageously Opulent Fashion, or H.O.O.F. for short, unabashedly gushed over a series of clothing designs that Chur had presented to them. “Look at that embroidery, positively exquisite!” Despite having ingested a sort of tea before leaving Ponyville that Rarity claimed helped relax and focus the mind, Chur had also taken an instant liking to the frothy, dark steaming beverage the Equestrians called ‘coffee’, of which such establishments as this were apparently renowned for. As it were, several empty mugs now sat in front of her clasped talons on the gilded tabletop. “Such striking design aesthetics, Miss Rarity!” More mugs were likely to follow, if Chur had to endure any more of the Canterlotters’ flowery, overly-enunciated syllables. “I must say, I’ve never seen feathers and gemstones applied quite like this before.” Rarity’s smile brightened as she accepted the compliments with an appropriate amounts of humbleness. “Why, I am quite honored that you think so! I do take priority in ensuring that each design is the best that it could possibly be.” The unicorn chose her wording carefully. Too much pride, and the clientele may take offence. Too much modesty, and the prospective customer or merchant may doubt a designer’s confidence in their own work; a very undesirable situation. “Quite as one would expect, Miss Rarity,” the lead representative responded in an almost nasally voice. She was an elderly unicorn of tan fur and silver mane, and dressed in a lavish white overcoat trimmed with peacock feathers. “Fashion is just as much art as it is business.” Chur’R-Yar resisted the temptation to mentally ridicule the overcoat and its trim as she watched the unicorn occasionally stroke the feathers, reveling in their luxurious texture. Only pegasi and the land’s winged unicorn rulers could sport any type of feathers properly and naturally, in her opinion. Speaking of the latter rulers, Yar could almost swear she’d seen the one with dark-blue fur sneak into one of her dreams last night, whispering something about “Quetzalcoatls,” whatever that meant. Chur’R-Yar did not trust those mystique-filled winged unicorns, not by a long shot. The mundane, wrinkly but still stately unicorn’s two companions were a middle-aged, flamboyantly dressed earth pony mare who’s orange coif of hair nearly rivaled Rarity’s in intricacy, and another elderly unicorn who’s tricorn hat and powdered white mane gave him the impression of someone who'd walked right out of the colonial days of the Third Celestial Era. Rarity herself simply wore a nice white wide brim hat, which accentuated her already stunning features. Chur had, for the first time since her arrival, replaced her armor with a set of flowing blue-golden robes and matching tunic based off griffon designs currently in vogue across their western hemisphere city-states. She had encountered the style whilst reading anything and everything within reach about her newly adopted homeworld, Equis, and Rarity had been more than happy to replicate it for her. Since she had been accompanying Rarity to Equestria’s capital, Chur figured her shield gauntlet would have been rather excessive. However, she did have her energy baton’s idle hilt stowed in one of her robe’s inner pockets, just in case of some unforeseen disaster. “I'm quite inclined to agree, Madame Silver Silk,” Rarity said, pausing to sip some coffee with cream. “Outfits of the highest caliber can display creative nuance just as much as any celebrated painting, under the right conditions.” “Indeed. And what of your dragoness friend – Chur’R-Yar, is it?” Silver Silk regarded the Kig-Yar with mild interest, peering down her muzzle at her. “Are any of these designs the product of your work? You design too, do you not?” Yar politely shook her head. “Goodness, no. I could never claim credit to such fine art of fabric! I am but the humble business broker for Madame Rarity.” At least they have no trouble pronouncing my name, she thought to herself with some relief. Looks like I'm a dragon, from now on. “A smashing business broker, dear.” Rarity interjected with a kindly tone. “Oh, I see,” Silver Silk replied, who began delicately sipping from a tea cup resting on its own saucer. As the cup and saucer levitated, Silver Silk absentmindedly ran a hoof through the trim of her overcoat. The other two representatives had momentarily buried themselves in appraising the stack of design drawings again, leaving Rarity to her sip own coffee. Chur scratched her snout, and ruminated over the events of the past week. Their stay at the hospital had been surprisingly quick, all things considered. Unlike Rainbow Dash, whose wing still remained in a cast, any lingering injuries on Chur's part from the battle with the hostile Brute captain were now minor at best, much like Applejack. The effects of healing spells on hastening Chur’s recovery had greatly stunned her doctors, whom had no idea how effective – if at all – applied restorative magic would have been on her alien physiology. For her part, Yar had come to tolerate, even like, Rarity’s eloquent style and diction over the past twelve days that she’d known her. Something about Canterlot ponies’ accents, though, still ruffled the T’vaoan’s feathers in a most unpleasant way. In fact, picturing the H.O.O.F representatives as Unggoy dressed in noble regalia helped upkeep Chur’s cheerful demeanor, which improved Rarity’s presentation. Only a fellow Kig-Yar, or a dragon, could easily tell a professional smile apart from a mischievous grin on her avian-reptilian face. A clearing of Silver Silk’s throat drew everyone’s attention back as she finished her cup of tea. “Now then, it appears we are satisfied with your designs, Miss Rarity.” She chuckled lightly. “Ha, what am I saying? We are swept away by them! Isn't that right, Splendor?” While the hat-wearing unicorn stallion chuckled as well, Chur felt her ruby-red eyes drawn meticulously to Silver Silk’s feathered overcoat once again. “I must agree,” Splendor finally replied. “What say you, Bon Couture?” The citrus-haired earth pony had an urbane smirk. “I do say: shall we negotiate the commission price that the House shall expect to pay for them, now?” Rarity’s ears perked up instantly, and the feathers on Chur’s neck flexed. They briefly shared a look of understanding, before turning back to Silver Silk. “Of course. Would you please give me a few moments to consult with my partner alone?” Rarity answered. “By all means, but don’t keep us waiting too long, young lady.” Silver Screen replied, her muzzle curled into a small smile. Rarity headed towards the café’s register, gesturing for Chur to follow. As Chur put in an order for another coffee, Rarity placed some bits on the countertop and leaned in close. “Showtime, Chur! I'm estimating 15,000 bits for all the designs together, 20,000 if we can manage to knock their socks off, somehow. What do you have for me, darling?” Chur’s beak-like snout was stretched into a full grin as she stole another darting glance at the now distant Silver Silk. “Rarity, you underestimate yourself. Your presented work is worth 75,000 bits commission, at least.” “Seventy-five? Are you crazy?” Rarity hissed with incredulity, earning her an odd look from a passing waiter. “I thought you said Kig-Yar were shrewd masters of mercantilism!” The grin on Chur could not grow wider by any natural means. “Feathers,” she stated cryptically. Rarity scrunched her face in confusion. “’Feathers?’ Whatever do you…?” Following her associate’s gaze back towards their table, it slowly dawned on her. Rarity narrowed her eyes and smirked, her voice low and conspiratorial. “Ohh, very nice observation. It’s a good thing I decided to accept that exotic shipment from Aztlàn, after all. See, I knew you would be indispensable!” “Don’t thank me yet, we still have to secure that commission!” Chur reminded her, idly messing with one of her blue robe sleeves and admiring the gold trim. “Oh, of course, of course,” Rarity giggled. She rubbed her forehooves together, containing her excitement and adopting an astute, impassive expression. “Let’s get to it!” With a nod, Chur collected her fresh coffee from the barista at the register, and then the duo walked back to their table to rejoin their potential clients. Silver Silk greeted them with the same smile, but her brow was raised expectantly, as were her companions. “I take it you have an offer, now?” Rarity and Chur sat down, both now equally straight-faced and thoughtful. “We do,” Chur answered. “Seventy-five…” she began. Bon Couture and Splendor’s faces began to fall as Rarity dramatically drew breath to finish the number. “Thousand. ” Rarity settled back into her chair, awaiting their response. Both stared at her with disbelief, but Silver Silk reacted the most intensely, her skin spontaneously turning red beneath her coat. “That’s simply….absolutely…outrageous!” she stammered, scowling. Before they could respond, the unicorn’s scowl curled into a wicked grin. Rarity and Chur’s poker faces were instantly shattered, and replaced with pure bewilderment. “We accept!” “Indeed, we…wait, what?” Splendor did a double take at Silver Silk. “C-come again?” Rarity managed, looking at Silver as if the mare had just turned into a talking cactus. To the fashionista’s credit, Bon Couture and Splendor were regarding their senior colleague with similar looks. Chur said nothing, her own grin having since crept back onto her face. Silver Silk turned to Chur. “Chur’R-Yar, that one finished dress Rarity showed to me last week, they had feathers. Those were genuine Quetzalcoatl plumage, weren't they?” Silver Silk’s eyes were now ablaze with interest and anticipation as she put the design of the dress in question in front of her on the tabletop. “Several dozen molted feathers, offered as a token by Aztlàni Empress Coatlicue to one of her royal attendants. Said attendant then offered it to interested foreign buyers, of which Carousel Boutique was one. At least, that’s what Rarity has told me,” Chur confirmed. Silver Silk clopped her hooves together loudly and chuckled. “I knew it! I thought their texture felt exotic, yet oddly familiar! That was a dress truly fit for a sovereign!” “Silver, maybe we should slow down here, and consider…” Bon Couture’s suggestion was brusquely halted by a spryly raised tan hoof. “We accept,” the elderly mare repeated with gusto. “75,000 bits, it is!” Rarity then did something that caught even Chur off guard. “Hold on a moment, you're quite fond of these feathers, aren’t you?” We've got them now, Yar thought with a growing feeling of triumph. “Tell you what,” Rarity continued. “If you raise the commission just a bit higher to 85,000 bits, I'll happily use what feathers remain in my inventory to custom tailor a whole Aztlàni-inspired series, just for you personally!” “Tempting… but eighty,” Silver Silk retorted, pursing her wrinkled muzzle quizzically. “Eighty-two, final offer.” Rarity pressed. Silver Silk slowly tilted her head and smirked, greatly impressed. “You drive a hard and surprising bargain, Miss Rarity! I’ve come to expect this from big city types, not small town designers. I simply cannot resist, ‘Outrageous’ is in our very name, after all. 82,000 bits it is, then. The H.O.O.F commission is yours!” Rarity was positively glowing as her companion nodded vigorously. “Done, and done!” Chur declared, emptying the last of her coffee mug down her gullet with an air of finality. “Thank you very much for your business, Madame Silver Silk,” Rarity said, beaming. “The pleasure is all mine, young lady.” Splendor took off his purple tricorn hat and rubbed at his mane peevishly, all the while putting on a contradictory smile. “Done it is, Miss Rarity, Miss Chur’R-Yar. Allow me on behalf of the House of Outrageously Opulent Fashion to offer our thanks for your contribution to next month’s designer catalogue. Oh, and I'm sure Madame Silver Silk will be beyond pleased when the newest additions to her wardrobe arrives, as well.” “Carousel Boutique shall get right to work on them, first thing next week,” Rarity replied. “Very good. I believe this concludes our transaction,” Bon Couture stated, as the three ponies arose and she placed the outfit designs into her satchel. “The commission stipend should be deposited in your account at the Royal Bank of Canterlot before sundown, barring such an unfortunate unlikelihood as a diamond dog heist, or an act of Celestia.” “Good day to you both, this meeting was quite the escapade,” Silver Silk commented to Chur and Rarity, as she followed the other two representatives out of the café. “Likewise, Madame,” Rarity replied, inclining her head in a quick bow, which Chur mimicked, and Silver Silk returned. She and Chur then watched as the stylish ponies exited the establishment. “Feathers are going to be your downfall, dearest,” Splendor grumbled to Silver Silk. “Splendor, my love, I’ve been alive for over a century. Let an old mare live a little! I never bother you about that uncouth fascination of yours with the commoner music of ‘DJ Pon3’.” At that, their banter was now out of earshot, replaced by the regular gentle murmurings of the café’s many patrons. Rarity emitted an exhausted sigh and looked to Chur as she cupped her chin in her right hoof. “High society…goodness, darling. For the first time in a long while, I now realize what I must sound like to other ponies, especially Applejack.” Chur decided to indulge Rarity’s sense of self-criticism just a little. “Well, you do use ‘darling’ rather often. Your mannerisms can also become a bit overbearing, at your worst.” Rarity laughed playfully and shot the Kig-Yar a fake hurt look. “Yeah? Well everypony assumes you're some type of dragon, yet you're actually more or less of a large, bipedal umm…” Rarity rotated her foreleg around in thought. “uhh…space turkey!” “I actually wouldn't be surprised if Spike’s kind turned out to be a distant cousin of mine,” Chur answered back, dodging Rarity’s less than subtle bait. “And I'm one third jest on that, two thirds serious. Is it true he has a romantic interest in you?” “Oh yes, absolutely.” Rarity said, nodding curtly. “Quite an adorable crush, really. I try my best to let him down as gently as possible whenever he tries to get too far into things. It’s the age thing, not that he’s a dragon, if you’re wondering.” The unicorn leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Just between you and me, he and my younger sister Sweetie Bell would make an adorable couple when they’re both much older.” That was met by a snicker from Chur. “Couples, huh? I had hoped to find a mate once, upon securing my fortune, of course. That was before things started exploding seemingly at random. What about yourself, Rarity?” Rarity peered at a ceiling fan above somewhat dreamily. “Settling down with a true love could be nice someday, assuming they could get used to my posh manner of speech.” She abruptly put a hoof to her forehead with a dramatic flourish, as if about to faint. “Dahling, dahhhhling! Simply mahhvelous, dahling!” Chur’s laughter picked up from the unicorn’s unusual Pinkie Pie-like scene, and she began clutching at her chest as Rarity joined in with an unladylike snort and series of chortles. “Heavens, is that what I really sound like, sometimes?” Several seconds into her laughter fit, the T’vaoan’s breathing became a bit irregular as she rubbed at her chest irritably. Having heard the exchange, ponies at nearby tables finally started eying the two with puzzlement. Rarity registered the jackal’s odd reflexes, and immediately halted her laughter, a look of concern on her face. “Oh Chur, I'm so sorry! I’d absolutely forgotten about your rib fractures from the battle. They’re still mending…” “I'm fine, really, it’s alright.” Chur had calmed down now, and looked as equally worn out as Rarity. Her breathing had recovered to normal, but Rarity still wore a sheepish look. “Well…alright, I’ll take your word for it. I-I think I might have drank too much coffee,” the dressmaker said. “That makes two of us,” Chur agreed with an amused but weary murmur. “Are you ready to depart?” “I believe I am, yes.” The both of them got up from their table. “I can’t thank you enough for your help today, Chur’R-Yar. Silver Silk’s penchant for those Quetzalcoatl feathers might not have even broached my mind, had I met with them alone. Shall we endeavor to lug our way back to the train station before the full caffeine crash sets in?” Chur rubbed at her head; excess stimulant was beginning to cause an unpleasant buzzing sensation in the base of her skull. It would appear that mind-relaxing tea had already long since run its course. “I'm quite open to that suggestion, Rarity. If you wish to thank me properly, however, could you perchance find me a nice comfortable place on the train to doze off for…I don’t know…an entire Covenant Age or so?” Rarity smiled radiantly as she held the door open for her alien friend. “Done, and done!" Contrary to the Shipmistress’ expectation, the now familiar subtle reverberations and consistent click-clack of the train tracks several layers of metal beneath her did not hinder sleep. Quite the contrary, in fact, the noises were quite sleep inducing. While Rarity hummed quietly to herself and looked out the window in the seat across from Chur in their shared compartment, she was locked in deep, lucid dreaming. Beyond the world of the waking, Chur’R-Yar found herself standing in a wide, verdant field. She could tell as much, for knee-high grasses were bristling against her digitigrade legs, swaying in a light wind which seemed to come from every direction at once. The sky was a remarkably vibrant blue with the look of daytime, yet stars and constellations were still readily visible between banks of clouds. A cloak of thick mist clung to the periphery of Yar’s surroundings like shuttered stage curtains, obscuring from her view whatever features that may lie beyond. When Chur moved backward, she felt her taloned foot hit something metallic that was concealed in the grass. Looking down yielded a sight of the familiar purple silhouette of an Iruiru Armories carbine. She knelt down and picked up the firearm, inspecting its gleaming surface with bafflement as to what it was doing there. You’re asleep, Yar reminded herself. Asking such questions is as pointless as teaching politics to the grunts. “What is this place?” she wondered aloud as she peered across the high field and to the hanging mists beyond, her curiosity quickly winning out over her tendency for concise logic. Whatever you want it to be, you are dreaming. “Be you unfamiliar with lucid dreams, Shipmistress Chur’R-Yar?” a regal feminine voice inquired. Chur’s head snapped to look in multiple directions, seeing nothing in the visible portions of the field that surrounded her. She readied the Covenant carbine at her hip, a taloned hand pressed firmly on the hand guard, and squawked loudly but said nothing as she continued to scan the area with narrowed eyes. “This is quite unfortunate,” the disembodied voice continued. “For many ponies and those of other races, lucid dreaming is often found to be quite enjoyable, once mastered. It’s the freedom, we often surmise, having such creative power at their hoofs’ grasp that only the dream world could furnish.” “Who speaks?” Chur finally demanded with suspicion. “Come out of that mist, so I may see you.” The bank of low fog directly in front of her parted, revealing the majestic form of Princess Luna. Her mane flowed as it always did in its own magical aura, and a friendly, if tentative, smile lay upon her face. “It is we, who speak, Chur’R-Yar.” Like the Canterlot nobles, Luna’s pronunciation of the Kig-Yar name rolled off the tongue almost immaculately. “We are Princess Luna, noble Shipmistress; Equestria’s warden of the moon, Princess of the Night and all that revels in it, and of course, a guardian of dreams.” “The younger regal sister?” Chur asked, still suspicious. Luna’s features brightened a little. “Ah, so we are familiar to you?” Something about the alicorn’s eloquent voice produced a calming effect in Chur, but recollections of Twilight Sparkle’s account of Nightmare Moon allowed the barrel of her carbine to be only slightly lowered further to what would be considered a semi-friendly stance. “Yes, if only through frequent mention of you, and catching glimpses of you on occasion in my dreams.” “Indeed, we have explored your dreams before, over the course of the past several days.” Luna nodded and ventured a few steps forward to get a closer look at the alien. Chur was not yet prepared for the movement, and hastily raised the carbine again, narrowing her eyes. “That’s close enough, Your Highness! What brings you to my dreams, beyond obvious whim of royal authority?” The Princess’ wings flared outwards as a look of irritation came over her. “Pray you, be calm! We are simply here to introduce ourselves to one of the comrades of fair Dadab, of which Celestia speaks much praise,” Luna answered. She sighed, and her demeanor turned downcast as she continued to study the Kig-Yar. “A desire for friendly conversation, and curiosity, is all. That is why I am here.” “Really? How nice.” Chur’s face formed into a faux grin, before returning to a scowl. “I still do not trust you.” In truth, Chur’s impudence was feigned, she expected that this alicorn could very easily kill her if provoked to violence in the waking world. “Perhaps there’s something I can offer that will help gain your trust, then,” Luna proclaimed, offering her left wing towards Chur’R-Yar. “If it is necessary for a more tender audience with you.” No Kig-Yar – not even T'vaoans, the most avian-like of the species – possessed wings, but the gesture was nevertheless still recognized by Chur. Her ruby eyes widened in astonishment. “You would offer a Karushar-ut? How do you even know of such…oh yes, dreams.” Luna nodded to her, and Chur considered the proposition, quite stunned. “This is no small gesture, Princess Luna. The exchanging of feathers in Karushar-ut, it is sometimes regarded as the equivalent of a declaration of true love. You are literally giving away a part of yourself, however small and insignificant, to another.” “As well as a display of other important expressions, such as sorority and fraternity, humility, friendship, or trust,” Luna added, hoping she had not somehow offended the alien in a further attempt to get to know her. “I know this. I would humbly offer it, if I may speak to you without suspicion.” Relief crossed Luna’s face as Chur finally nodded in understanding. She even stowed the carbine onto her back, which surprised Chur by morphing into a cloud of parasprites that promptly fluttered off and away. “Since I must be awaiting return to Ponyville as I dream, I suppose I cannot refuse.” With a sharp grunt, Chur yanked a red-hued feather from the plumage of her nape with her left arm, which she then held aloft in an open palm towards Luna. The grunt had come instinctively, even though in her dream form, Chur felt no pain. Luna lowered her left wing towards her muzzle, and quickly plucked one of the midnight-blue feathers from it with her teeth, grimacing briefly. The two locked eyes. Luna levitated Chur’s scarlet feather over to her, and placed her own blue one into Chur’s waiting hand. When Luna’s feather made contact with Chur’s skin, the surrounding landscape of the dream suddenly began to change with the completion of the simple but highly symbolic Karushar-ut. The fog lifted, revealing the endless grassy field that was now giving way to the visage of an impressive sea coast, instantly catching the attention of both. “By the Prophets…” Chur murmured with wonder, as the world disassembled and reassembled itself, and the profile of a majestic and sprawling manor house arose before her very eyes. The expression put a warm smile on Luna’s lips, and she was positively glowing when Chur’R-Yar returned her gaze. “This…this is my clan’s ancestral estate on the beach near Tilu City on Eayn!’ Chur stated. She outstretched a feathered arm and pointed at the silhouette of a great gas giant on the horizon. “You can even see Chu’ot; I feel the warm sand beneath my feet as the talons sink into it, and the ocean breeze. It’s like we’re actually there!” “Your homeworld looks beautiful, Chur,” Luna said, her smile growing. Chu’ot began moving rapidly across the sky as if time itself were accelerating, reminding Chur where she really was. Homesickness for her home system notwithstanding, the shipmistress felt pure elation. “It is, but what…” “Consider it a little gift, from a new friend,” Luna said. Looking at Luna and analyzing her vibrant smile, Chur began to feel a sudden realization dawn on her. Her eyes darted between the blue feather still in her taloned hand, and the serene features of its previous owner. “Gift… The whispering of Quetzalcoatl feathers…you are the one who showed me how to help Rarity negotiate such an impressive deal! This was all thanks to you, wasn’t it?” Luna’s smile was all the answer Chur needed. “Thank you, Your Highness, most profoundly!” “It was my sincerest pleasure. Fare thee well, for now, Chur’R-Yar.” With that, Chur’s dream ended as she awoke to the sight of a smiling Rarity, finding herself back in the compartment of their train. The train car was still, and there was no sound of the tracks below. “Chur, darling, we’re back home!” Yar smiled back. “Splendid.” She looked down. As her drowsiness quickly subsided, she noticed a distinct blue feather in the gentle grasp of her hand. “How was your sleep?” Rarity asked. “I slept like royalty.” That elicited a giggle from the dressmaker. “On a moving train? My goodness, that’s quite impressive. Applejack would probably dismiss such a thing as 'horse feathers'.” Rarity began gathering their things. “Come on, I think Trixie said she would be showing us all Discord’s journal today. That should be one…interesting read, to say the least.” Chur nodded and carefully slipped Luna's feather into one of her robe pockets. "We shall surely lose our minds though, reading the writings of such a strange being."