Chapter Thirteen
The night market, in Apple Bloom's opinion, was proving to be something of a let down. She'd been expecting something more... illicit.
"This is a market," she observed.
Scootaloo glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. "It's the night market, not just any market."
"...it's a market. At night. That's all!" Apple Bloom threw her hands in the air. "Why did ya sound so dramatic 'bout it before?"
"It's a really big market," Sweetie Belle pointed out. She smiled cheerfully. "We don't have any markets like this at home."
“We don’t have tunnels full of poop at home either, don’t mean Ah’m gonna be impressed by it!” grumbled Apple Bloom. She crossed her arms. “What are we even here for? Ah don’t think anyone here seems friendly enough to tell us if they’ve seen our sisters.”
Since she’d said this as she’d had to dodge aside a man loaded with burlap bags as he thundered through the market without care for those around him, she felt rather justified in her opinion.
“You just gotta know how to ask. Here, let me show you how it’s done. Lemme borrow a coin.” Scootaloo grinned at them, confidence shining through as she started towards a stall.
Sweetie Belle reached into her bag, frowning as her hand sought out something. “Sure. Hmm, which pocket did I put my purse in…”
“Don’t worry, I saved you the effort.” A silver coin flashed in Scootaloo’s fingers, and she tossed the coin purse to the girl.
“Oh, thanks!” Sweetie Belle beamed, a nigh-weapons grade smile she turned on her friend. “See, Apple Bloom, I told you she’s just trying to help!”
Apple Bloom looked between the pickpocket and Sweetie, expression flat. “...Ah have no idea how ya took that idea outta her nicking yer purse.”
Sweetie Belle blinked, cocking her head to the side with a faint, confused “Huh?”
The thief was already gone, sauntering up to the vendor with a smile. She laid the coin flat amongst the varijous knickknacks, one finger holding it down.
“I’m looking to buy some...information,” she said. Slowly, she pushed the coin across the table. “And I’m willing to pay.”
Stroking his beard, the wrinkled ancient on the other side eyed her skeptically. “Mmm, information? And why would you think I have any information, young lady?”
Scootaloo smirked. “Let’s just say a friend of mine told me. A friend I’m looking for.”
“Well, I’m afraid all I can do is wish you the best of luck.” His fingers slid across, pressed flat against the table until they had the coin between the V of pointer and fore-finger. “I don’t hear much, after all, and I like to keep what I can to myself.”
The confidence began to drain, and she glanced back at the girls. Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. Sweetie Belle gave her a thumbs up. Shooting them a shaky grin, Scootaloo returned her gaze to the old man when she felt a tug on the coin.
“H-hey, that’s only for useful-”
“There’s a vendor for honeyed apples, a few rows back,” he cut in. His old eyes bored into her. “I hear it’s quiet. I like to go there, when I take a break. Have a snack, maybe a quiet chat away from the hubbub...you know, gets me what I need to keep going.”
“Uh...cool?” She gulped, glancing around.
A sigh made his beard shake. “I mean,” he stressed, tugging on the coin again. “Going there in, oh, fifteen minutes helps me find what I’m looking for. You got me?”
Scootaloo stared at him. The tugging grew more insistent. “I...maybe?” Something clicked, and she let out a gasp. “Oh. Oh! I get you! Yeah! Awesome, great!”
The moment her finger moved from the coin, it disappeared in his sleeves. The old man flicked his hand at her dismissively. “Then get going, kid.”
“Right!” Chest inflated with pride, she strode back to the waiting girls and hiked her thumbs up with a grin. “Score! I knew this guy would be able to help!”
“How? What did he tell ya?” asked Apple Bloom. She slipped a hand into her pocket, making sure her coin purse was still there. “He seen our sisters?”
Scootaloo shrugged. “Maybe! Come on, I’ll show you where he’s gonna meet us. He’s got something to help us!”
A squeal from Sweetie Belle preceded the hug that nearly knocked Scootaloo the ground. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you! We can finally find them!”
Apple Bloom hooked a thumb under Scootaloo’s shirt, giving her a tug that kept her from falling and taking her Sweetie-shaped, sized and named cargo down with her. “Sweetie…”
“Hey, it’s not biggie. I know this scene pretty well, after all,” Scootaloo bragged. Prying Sweetie off, she started down the market lane. “Just…” She hesitated. “Just don’t get your hopes up too early, ‘kay? He might be able to point us in the right direction, but we don’t know if he can tell us exactly where they are.”
Sweetie’s expression fell. “Oh…I guess you’re right…” A touch on her shoulder made her look, and she found Apple Bloom’s smiling face.
“Don’t let that get ya down,” she said. “A step in the right direction is still a step in the right direction, an’ my sister always used to say-”
“‘Don’t grab scaly vines’?” Sweetie suggested.
Apple Bloom blinked. “Uh, no.”
“I’m pretty sure she did. I remember because that vine tried to bite me.”
“Well, Ah mean, she did say it, an’ that was a snake, not a vine, but Ah meant she always used to say-” Apple Bloom began, trying again.
Sweetie Belle raised a hand, one finger up, and extended a second finger. “‘Never eat flowers from the forest’?”
“No- Well, yeah, but Ah was talking ‘bout-”
“You guys eat flowers?” asked Scootaloo.
“Nope! Just me when I was little!” answered Sweetie with a giggle.
“Ah meant,” growled Apple Bloom loudly, forging on bravely. Her eyebrow twitched dangerously. “She always said the only way to get where ya goin’ is one step at a time, just gotta keep goin’. We’ll find ‘em, her and Rarity, Ah know it!”
Sweetie’s head bobbed in agreement, hair bouncing. She sniffed at the height of a bounce and looked hungrily at the tent from which the scent of honeyed apples wafted.
“Can we get some? It smells delicious, and all we’ve been eating has been that cheap stuff,” she whined, coins clinking as her finger dug through her purse. “I won’t get much.”
Apple Bloom shook her head. “Nope. No way. We gotta save our money. How stupid would we have to be to waste money on honeyed….apples…”
*
“Hmm, delicious!” Sweetie let out a faint moan of delight, licking sweetness from the corners of her lips. “This stuff is great! Do you want another piece, Apple Bloom?”
Cheeks puffing out, Apple Bloom gulped. Sweet apple slipped down her throat as she shook her head. “Nope. M’ good. Scoots?”
“Sure!” Lounging against the back of the sweet apple vendor’s tent, Scootaloo leaned over to snatch up another piece. “This stuff is great!”
“Pfft.” Apple Bloom ran her tongue along her teeth, savouring the sugary taste before following her dismissive sniff with actual words. “Granny makes ‘em better.”
“Oh, yeah, those are the best. Or the apple fritters! Granny Smith makes the best apple fritters!” chimed Sweetie Belle. She clasped her hands before her, her gaze locked on some distant memory. “Not to mention her apple pies!”
The noise of the night market, and most of its light, hummed quietly through the little alley as Scootaloo listened to them ramble on about Apple Bloom’s grandmother and all her ‘mighty fine’ apple recipes. Despite the sweet treat filling her stomach, the thief found herself salivating as she heard of perfectly baked crust over molten apple insides. It all sounded so good, and she couldn’t help but suspect they were exaggerating.
“Never had apple pie,” she remarked.
Their gasps made her pause mid-chew. They were staring at her, and it was really, really weird. She leaned away, hoping their eyes would stop following her. They didn’t.
“Uh….” Scootaloo gulped. “...so...taking that guy a while…”
Shaking herself from nightmares of pielessness, and with a promise to herself that if Scootaloo found her sister she’d bake her one heck of a pie, Apple Bloom glanced along the alley. “Yeah. Wonder where he is.”
“You’re sure he’ll know about our sisters, right? I’m really worried about Rarity,” said Sweetie, sugar-marked lips forming a pout.
Scootaloo nodded. “Sure! Come on, how hard could it be forget someone like Apple Bloom’s sister? I told him….”
Apple Bloom cocked her head to the side, waiting for a few seconds. “Scootaloo?”
Rubbing her chin, Scootaloo felt the faintest of stirrings in her hindbrain. “I...didn’t tell him anything. He just told me to meet him here, and he’d tell me what he knew.”
The girls exchanged looks.
“I’m sure he just wanted to meet somewhere more private to hear everything you wanted,” suggested Sweetie Belle. She smiled at her friends. “There’s nothing to worry about, he looked trustworthy to me. He kinda reminded me of your Uncle Arbor with that beard!”
The light spilling into the alleyway, flickering lanterns casting faint illumination, cast long shadows across the men and women who stepped into view. Ragged clothes shifted as hidden blades slithered into palms.
“Hey there, kids. Looking for someone?”
Scootaloo pulled her eyes from the gang at one end, and found the cold lump of fear suddening weighing down her stomach grow colder and heavier. Stumbling from the crater she’d claimed, the pickpocket came to her feet with a nervous smile on her face.
“H-hey, Feather Buster! What’re you doing here?” Scootaloo fought against another gulp, glancing back at the gang. There was four of them, and only one of Feather Buster. ‘I’d rather take all four!’
Feather Buster smiled the least friendly smile any of them had ever seen. She took a few steps with deceptive delicacy, the thud of her blackjack as it bounced from the palm of her hand with each step a counterpoint to her soft footfalls. Clothes a few degrees less shabby than her gang’s rustled slightly, hiding muscles Scootaloo had seen power that blackjack through a man’s nose more than once.
“Oh, we’re just out for a walk. What a coincidence to find you waiting here for us…” There was something ugly about her smile, and it only grew as she approached them. “I hear you and your new friends are quite the popular girls. It seems the whole guild wants you...and yet all I do is my job, and you come to me…”
Try as she might, Scootaloo couldn’t think of a way to tell the other two to run the moment they got the chance. Being subtle was really, really hard when your death was watching you the way a hungry cat eyes a particularly stupid mouse.
“Us? Me? Pfft, why would they be after us?” Scootaloo asked, a nervous laugh bubbling up as she retreated a step. “I’m not important, am I?”
Feather Buster shrugged. “Not to me, but I think I know someone who might think different…” Her eyes traced towards Sweetie Belle, running across her dress. “Or maybe your little friend here. That’s a very...expensive looking dress you have on.”
Ignoring Scootaloo’s frantic gaze, Sweetie smiled. It was harder than normal in the face of the fierce woman’s stare, but she managed it. “Expensive? I don’t think so. My sister made it for me, it’s one of my favourites.” She frowned slightly. “Well, all the dresses Rarity made me are my favourites, and she did make all my dresses...so I guess they’re all my favourite!”
Faint movement drew Scootaloo’s eye to Apple Bloom. The farm girl’s satchel bulged where one hand slipped through, questing for something. A warning nearly burst from the pickpocket’s lips, but it froze on her tongue. Feather Buster was too close. Way too close.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t been the only one to notice.
“Hey, Buster!” One of the thugs pointed his knife. “That one’s going for a weapon.”
Apple Bloom’s eyes widened, but the next moment occured too fast for Scootaloo to hear whatever she said. Something had driven the breath from her, and she felt a constricting force around her. She might have missed the faint pain on her neck as her chest throbbed, had it not been accompanied by the feeling of iron pressing tightly against her.
“Put down the bag, kid,” Feather Buster’s voice hissed in her ear, loud enough to make her wince and earn another prick. The constriction, Feather’s arm, loosened. “Stop moving. They probably want you more alive than dead.”
Blinking as the world came into focus, just in time for her to see Apple Bloom’s bag drop gently to the ground. The country girls were both looking at her with expression of horror, and with the sensation of a blackjack resting against her and a knife pressed to her throat, Scootaloo couldn’t really disagree with the sentiment.
“Let Scootaloo go!”
Feather Buster shot Sweetie a look, laced with contempt, and snorted. “You don’t really get how this goes, do you?”
Apple Bloom’s jaw worked silently, whatever demand she felt restrained but not needed, not with the fire in her eyes.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do, kids,” Buster went on. She pressed the knife in a bit closer, a squeak from Scootaloo quite solidly making her point. “You’re going to let my friends here take you someplace. Me and Scoots are gonna wait here, and when they come back and tell me you didn’t make a fuss, didn’t draw any attention or try running for a guard, I’ll bring her along.”
“L-let her go,” Sweetie repeated. Her hands gripped her skirt in a white knuckled grip. “You’re hurting her!”
Another trickle of red joined the others that flowed down Scootaloo’s neck, and she closed her eyes as the point dug into her skin.
“That’s the point, and I’m going to hurt her a lot more if you don’t do as I say,” growled Feather. She pressed in, a toothy smile spreading as the trickle grew. “I might do it anyway, but you’re just going to have to hope I don’t.”
Apple Bloom released clenching teeth, glaring daggers at her. “You’re gonna kill her like that! We’ll come, jus’ stop hurtin’ her.”
Scootaloo tried to shake her head, but a squeeze stilled the movement. It grew tighter, and she winced. “Ow!”
“Boys, grab the brats already! They’re starting to piss me off,” she hissed. Her glare redirected at her captive. “I don’t know where you found marks like these, but you picked the most annoying ones ever.”
‘She’s gonna kill me,’ thought Scootaloo. She tried not to shudder, knowing it would just push the dagger into her neck again. ‘Dash always said she couldn’t control herself...go. Get away.’
It was hardly the first time she’d hoped, prayed or begged for something more. More nights than she cared to remember had ended as she drifted off, staring at the sky and imagining there was something more to herself than nimble fingers and dextrous dodges. Maybe, part of her hoped, the fact she wanted it for someone else would change things.
If fate was listening, it had a particularly twisted sense of humour in its answer.
Sweetie felt a dirty hand clamp around her arm, but even as it grew tight, her eyes didn't leave Scootaloo. "You're hurting her."
"Do I need to poke another hole in her to get you to shut up? Long night, I hate brats." Feather Buster scowled.
Tears gathered at the corners of Sweetie's eyes. "You're. Hurting. Her."
Apple Bloom swung her head towards her friend, eyes widening as she read signs only she could see. Ignoring the thug approaching her, she tensed, shoulders squaring. He reached out, and found her ducking away, one hand looping her satchel's strap around her wrist.
"Hey, brat, I said-" Buster began.
Sweetie's mouth opened, and every ear in hearing found itself trying to close, physical impossibility be damned. Her scream rippled through the air to prick at ears with invisible daggers. The cries of the thugs were lost within the supernatural force of Sweetie's voice as they clutched at their ears. Apple Bloom pulled away from the thug, lifting her bag with one hand while her knee found its way to a sharp stop between his legs.
Scootaloo heard it all, from Sweetie’s scream to Feather Buster’s snarl of pain. The arm around her loosened, and the blade jerked away from her neck. Just a moment, as pain and surprise sent the enforcer reeling, and Scootaloo had the taste of freedom.
“Scootaloo, come on!”
Apple Bloom’s voice jarred her into action. She darted forward, and a swish of air behind her warned her it hadn’t gone unnoticed. There was no time to look back, and little inclination to. Instead she went forward, catching up with Apple Bloom. The redhaired girl was already grabbing Sweetie Belle, and the trio put their legs to work.
The scream ended, and Sweetie stumbled as she huffed for breath.
“J-just a sec,” she squeaked, voice quiet.
“No time!” Scootaloo didn’t even question what had just happened. She caught Sweetie by the other arm, and together, she and Apple Bloom pulled her along with them in their flight. The night market’s crowd was stirring. “Coming through!”
“”Cuse us!” added Apple Bloom. Meager politeness didn’t stop her from pushing into the crowd.
Scootaloo’s ears prickled, and faintly, through the hubbub of the stirred up crowd, she swore she heard an angry voice screaming. It sounded, if she contemplated it, very much like, “Get them! Get them!”
Scootaloo started going just a little bit faster.
*
Water dripped in the dark, the quiet tap of droplets striking worn stone. Gloomy tunnels that knew only rats, the occasional cat and sometimes even a pair of children found themselves lit by bright glows that shone until twisting corners hid it. Those few usual, unheard sounds were supplanted by a new sound.
The sound...of organisation!
“Rope?”
“Check.”
“Grappling hooks?”
“Check.”
“Climbing spikes?”
“Check.”
“Compass?”
“Check.”
“Map?”
“Check.”
“Copies of the map?”
“Check.”
“Sunrods?”
“Check.”
“Lanterns?”
“Check.”
“My will to live,” groaned Dash. “Oh, look at that, not check!”
Applejack patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t say that, sugar. She might start over if we gotta find that too.”
“Don’t say that, you’ll jinx it!” the thief whined, covering her face with her hands.
Lowering her parchment, Twilight glowered at the pair. Her lips pursed, and she put her hands on her hips. “What, exactly, is the problem?” she demanded.
“You’re boring me to death.”
“We’re gonna starve before the checklist is even done.”
“This list is too long.”
Twilight looked between all three, her glower taking in Spike as he chimed in. He shrugged, a nervous grin on his face.
“Well,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “For one thing, we most certainly would not starve. Spike, checklist item number fourteen, ‘food, perishable’?”
He nudged a bag, nodding. “Check,” he admitted.
“See? My checklist is perfect,” said the wizard, a proud smile on her face. It dropped away as Dash began to mime, clawing at her throat as if unable to draw in another breath. “Oh, stop complaining. You could try doing something to pass the time.”
Dropping her act, Dash sat back on her stone seat, sliding into a groove seemingly worn away to be exactly right of her derriere. “How? I’ve already taken your purse like four times and you never notice, so that’s no fun anymore.”
“Well, why not try practice reading…” Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, what was that?”
Dash grinned. “Nothing. Here, you dropped something.”
Twilight caught the jingling pouch, and spared only a moment to give Spike a Look for his snickering before she returned to her checklist. There was enough peace for her to even finish and get to halfway through her double-check before Dash’s patience reached an end again.
“So, what are we supposed to find down there anyway? Prince Blueballs wants some trinket or something from some ruins?” asked the bored girl,stretching her hands towards the ceiling.
“Or something.” Twilight looked up, and sighed. “Please don’t start climbing everything. We’ll have plenty of that later.”
“I don’t get it, though. The guild picked the sewers clean. Hell, they even use some of it, especially under the midden. How did they miss the undercity? I mean, it’s a city! Under another city!” said Dash, throwing up her hands. “Someone would have seen it.”
“Someone did. That’s why you know stories about it,” Twilight pointed out. “Where do you think those stories came from? The undercity exists behind a ward that is nearly always impervious.”
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Nearly always?”
The mage sighed, rubbing her forehead. “There are conditions under which entrance can be gained. I’m sorry, but I promise to explain it once we’re under way. Right now, I just want to make sure we’re ready.”
“We’re ready!” The rustle of papers brought Twilight’s gaze to her apprentice, and Spike wore a grin as he held out her checklist. “I finished the double check for you. We can go.”
“...” Twilight sighed, taking the papers. “I suppose I should explain then. I know how to get through the ward. Blueblood wants a relic from Old Canterlot in exchange for Rarity.”
She waited, and they watched her.
“...and?” prompted Dash.
Twilight blinked. “...and what?”
“And what else, I think she means,” Applejack suggested. She offered a shrug. “I was kind of hoping for more too. This place is dangerous, right? What kinda danger?”
Wiping sweaty palms across her trousers, Twilight nodded. “I know, but I promised the Princess that I wouldn’t just throw around everything she’s taught me about Old Canterlot, and that’s not much. There’s not exactly monsters, but….there’s a reason Old Canterlot was sealed away. There’s magic down there that is under no one’s control, wild magic. Creatures summoned a century ago by unintended spells decaying and mutating in the wild magic remain there. There’s traps and mazes and...it’s just not a safe place to be unprepared, or on your own.”
Applejack’s skeptical eye tracked from her friend-cum-employer to the pile of gear. “Well, we didn’t come unprepared, I’ll give you that.”
“That’s more stuff than I’ve ever owned,” Dash complained. She pressed her palms against the hilts that stuck up from her sides.
The gesture didn’t go unnoticed, and a small smile was shared by Twilight and Spike.
“They look good on ya,” said Applejack. She patted the smaller girl on the shoulder and winked. “Maybe you’ll even hit someone with ‘em.”
Before she could voice a word in protest, she was beaten to it.
“Shining’s just really good. He was an adventurer and everything! After him, I bet any monsters we see will be easy,” Spike told her. His hands rose, miming a pair of swords. “She’ll chop and slash and cut until they run away!”
A grin stretched over Dash’s face, and she rose with a shrug that threw Applejack’s hand off. “Come on, kid, you’d bet on that? Bets are only fun when there’s a chance of losing. AJ might as well take the day off, with me here.”
“Heh, that a challenge?” asked Applejack, She reached up, adjusting her hat until the grim hung just across the line of her eyebrows, and a grin spread across her face. “Cause it sounds like someone is putting her mouth where her money ain’t.”
Sauntering up, Dash stretched, letting her get a good look at her wiry arms, until they dropped to the pommels of her blades. “Who said I wasn’t gonna put my money there?”
“The fact you don’t have any?” Spike pointed out, and got a glare for his trouble. He threw his hands up. “Okay, geez, calm down.”
“If ya don’t got any money, Rainbow, we don’t have to bet something so borin’.” Applejack’s smile curved wider than ever. “How about we make ourselves a real bet? No money, just a forfeit.”
Dash snorted, jerking a blade out to expose a few inches from the sheath. Dull metal caught light in a dim reflection. “Like what? Not like it’s gonna matter for me. I’ll win whatever bet you wanna make, rube.”
“Well…” Leaning over her, Applejack reached down and gently, yet firmly, pushed the shortsword back into its sheath. “I bet you, sugar, that whatever beasties we face down there? I can beat the biggest, meanest one they got. An’ if I don’t, I’ll…”
Her eyes brightened.
“I’ll wear somethin’ of Rarity’s. Girliest thing she has. Trust me,” she said with certainty. “If I know Rares, and I do, she’s gonna have something like that just sitting around. I’ll wear it if you win.”
A laugh bubbled up from Dash’s chest, and her rainbow locks bounced with each bob of her shaking head. “Ha! Sounds funny! Sure.”
“Hold on, sugar,” Applejack all but purred with the deviousness of a fiend about to snap shut a loophole. “If I win, you gotta be Twi’s maid next time she has some fancy meetin’. All cute and froufrou like them maids scurrying around the palace. In fact, ya gotta do that ‘til our sentence is all done, officially.”
“Geez, didn’t know you wanted to see me dressed up so bad,” Dash shot at her with a grin. “Whatever, I can live with that, not like I’m gonna lose.”
“How helpful of you both.” Twilight’s voice cut in, and she rose from her triple check. “Alright, it’s time to move out. Is everyone ready?”
She ran a critical eye over her...well, her team, she supposed. ‘Gang’ really wasn’t the right word, though she felt that team wasn’t great either. Group? Twilight frowned. ‘I’ll think of the right word later.’
Her own clothes were well made, and a concession to the nature of delving into the ruins of an ancient city.She smoothed over the short robe, reaching only just past her waist, and adjusted her belt slightly before hefting the bag she had slowly slipped item after item into its all devouring mouth.
“Ready as ever, Sparkle,” said Dash, leaping to her feet. She shot a smirk at Applejack as she strode past, luxuriating in the feeling of wearing something new. Leather armour untouched by age or wear clung to her slender frame, covering her torso. Flaps of leather hung down in a kilt over her upper legs, yet made no sound with each naturally sly step she took.
Applejack matched her stride for stride, longer legs eating up the distance that soon had Dash scurrying to keep pace.“Then let’s get movin’,” she said, and her usual armoured coat looked more than up to the task.
Pausing to give Spike a squeeze on the shoulder, Twilight discreetly checked him. It was much the same as her own clothes, though she’d made sure it was a firm, strong weave.
“Don’t forget to cast Mage Armour as soon as we enter the undercity,” she told him. Her stare bored into his until he groaned and nodded. “Good. Safety comes first.”
Spike grumbled as he trudged along, but his complaints of overbearing, overprotective mages were lost in the gloom of their march.
“...maybe you should use it now, just in case,” Twilight thought aloud, tapping her chin and glancing down a junction, into the darkness of a half collapsed tunnel.
Dash and Spike rolled their eyes in perfect timing.
“There’s no one else down here, calm down,” the thief said. She leaned to one side, an exaggerated look down another tunnel. “Anyone down there? What’s that? These are abandoned tunnels no one gives a shit about? Who could have guessed!”
Twilight glared at her, staff tapping against the floor loudly until she abruptly pulled her arm up and tucked it under her shoulder. “I’m just being precautious. It’s a long way to get to the way into Old Canterlot, and who knows what we might encounter down here?”
“No one,” muttered Spike. He hunched his shoulders as he glanced longingly through the tunnels. This was nothing like exploring them with Scootaloo. There were no plans or checklists or anything, just freedom. “Who else is gonna come down here?”
*
Scootaloo caught the post with one hand, pulled hard on Sweetie Belle with her other, and did her best to ignore the shrieking woman in the apron. A stick of something remarkably hard for the scent of bread and spices that clung to it bounced off her shoulder before the trio shot from the stall in a flurry of flailing children.
“That way!” She pointed, and they took off. Noise erupted behind them, Feather Buster’s distinct shrieks of promised violence following them. Round a corner they went, and then she jumped between tented stalls. “Down there!”
She took lead, slipping down the narrow space with agility born of a pickpocket who was skilled, but not always quite skilled enough. Her feet bounced over obstacles and Sweetie skipped with frantics squeaks, both noiseless compared to the thundering of Apple Bloom kicking aside anything between her and escape.
“Over…” Scootaloo hesitated, glancing one way, and then another.
“I’ll gut you, you little tramp! Stop running so I can gut you!” screamed Feather Buster. “Gut you!”
“There!” finished Apple Bloom. She took the lead with one hand filled with soft fabrics and the other with ragged, torn linen. Twin yelps followed her as the three went tumbling into another stall, crowded in a dark tent through which only a sliver of light escaped. Apple Bloom let go and spun, closing the tent behind her with a hiss of, “Shhh.”
They lay still in the gloom, faint lights of murky green barely illuminating their faces as they stared at the thin barrier between them and discovery. The sound of pounding feet made all three twitch.
“Which way did they go?” Feather Buster’s voice cracked like a whip and they nearly jumped Scootaloo gulped, closing her eyes and praying to Dash. “Find them! Come on, you idiots, how fast can three little girls run?!”
Not so much as a hair moved, frozen in place as they listened to Feather Buster berate and deride her thugs until her voice faded. Still they waited, unmoving, listening for any sign she might return.
How long it was until the first of them spoke, none were sure. Only that it had, hopefully, been long enough.
“Good idea,” whispered Scootaloo. “She totally missed us! Ha! How stupid is she, we’re right here and she didn’t even notice us!”
Irony, as always, had an impeccable sense of timing.
“Into my nest, three little ones creep,” whispered a voice from every direction, bouncing from every corner of the dark tent. “With such cries of thugs, I must wonder what secrets they keep.”
Only now did they see where they were. Only now did the girls look upon their sanctuary and come very close to wetting themselves. Monsters leered from above, eerie snarls frozen in hungry stares. Pots of odd plants that writhed subtly from moment to moment with unnatural activity. Strange, spiky things leered at them, shadows against the witch lights.
“Gah!’
“Eeeeh!”
“Aaaah!”
Yellow shapes, exotic eyes that glowed in the dark, trembled for a moment. With it came a sound that seemed to echo, ignoring the basic fact that no tent should ever have an echo. It didn’t occur to any of them that it was, in fact, laughter.
“My tent, it seems, is quite the haven for those who must hide. What force, I wonder, is it that is your guide?” Her rhythmic voice grewer closer, and before them loomed a figure gathered in darkness. All they could see were here eyes, catching the strange light and turned into the stare of a ghoul.
“G-get back!” Apple Bloom leapt for a basket, fingers grasping stick of hard wood she ripped out and held between her and the figure. “Ah’ve fought monsters from the Everfree! Ya can’t scare me!”
The hood turned, cocking to the side as the figure considered her. “The beasts of the Everfree you say? Perhaps fortune favours us both this day.”
Something stirred beneath its ominous robe, shapes unseen rising. Slender hands jangled and witchlight shone on metal.
“Look out!” Scootaloo moved the moment its hands rose. Her dagger came out and her arm cocked back. It flew before another moment had passed, spinning through the air straight into the chest of the shadowed figure.
A meaty slap took sound from the tent. The figure swayed in the silence, their bated breaths paused in expectation.
Scootaloo blinked as something tinged and bounced across the floor. Eyes widened, looking down on her dagger, and slowly she looked back, eyes rising until they met the eerie yellow of the figure’s.
“Such hasty actions, made from fear, can lead to regret,” advised the lyrical tones that grew more frightening by the moment. “To stop and consider in the future, I would suggest, because only this time will I forgive and forget.”
She gulped. “Y-yes Ma’am!” the thief squeaked. She paused. ‘Wait, ma’am? Monsters don’t sound like rhyming ladies, do they?’
The question was easily answered a moment later. Completing the motion she had begun, the figure pushed back her hood. Dark skin marked in ash-grey designs coloured a face from which eyes, no longer so frightening yet somehow more mysterious still, looked down upon them.
“I bid you welcome to my tent, young intruders faint with fear. Calm your breath and still your hearts, you are in no danger here.” As if lifting a veil from her voice as she had lowered her hood, it was suddenly apparent this rhyming stranger was not speaking with the voice of a demon. “My name is Zecora.”
They kept on staring, eyes latched on her, until Sweetie Belle raised a hand.
“Uh, excuse me,” her voice trembled, but she pushed on. “That last part didn’t rhyme.”
She jerked back, not from the stranger, but her friends. They glared at her, Scootaloo frantically trying to gesture with her eyes for the girl to shut up shut up shut up. It wasn’t doing much good.
“What, it didn’t and she’s really going for a theme since everything else was rhyming,” reasoned Sweetie with a pout.
Zecora laughed, shaking her head in amusement as she watched the trio. Her mowhak bounced with her laughter.
“Ah, my dears, you bring me such laughter when all I thought to have this eve was a quiet cup of tea.” She gestured towards the back. “While you cower from those who hunt you, come share it with me.”
Glances were exchanged, and they shrugged to each other, none quite sure what to do.
“Ah, what the heck, why not! Ah’d love to have tea with ya, Miss Zecora,” said Apple Bloom. She walked past the woman, following her gesture, and turned back to smile at her friends. “Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”
Against all odds, the worst failed to happen. All that did was, a minute or so later, Zecora pouring tea into wooden cups set before the girls. She smiled as her robe dropped away and her legs folded beneath her, faint light catching on the bands of gold that ringed her neck. Sipping first, she wait until they had taken up their own cups.
“I have told you my name, so it seems only right that you do the same,” she suggested.
“Ah’m Apple Bloom! It’s nice to meet ya, Miss Zecora. Thanks heaps for all the help,” said the girl, bow bobbing as she leaned in for another sip. “This tea is real nice.”
Sweetie let out a happy sigh, raising her lips from her cup. “I’m Sweetie Belle. She’s right, this is really nice. I think it might be better than the tea Rarity always made me when I was sick.”
"I am a peddler of exotic wares, trader in secrets from across the land and over the sea. I should hope I can make a decent tea,” Zecora said, a faint hint of laughter in her voice. Her gaze swung to the last of the three. “And who, if I might ask, are you?”
Eyeing her cup with enough suspicion to fuel a dozen guardsman, Scootaloo brought it slowly to her lips. “Does that count as rhyming when it’s so short?”
“Scootaloo, be nice, or no allowance,” Sweetie scolded her.
“Allow- you’re paying me, not giving me an ‘allowance’,” snapped the pickpocket, glaring at Sweetie. “They’re totally different!”
Zecora raised an eyebrow, her question obvious if unasked.
“I’m helping them find their sisters, ‘cause I saw them, but now we’re being chased!” Scootaloo groaned, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t even know why!”
Zecora frowned. “Surely there must be a reason, unless for children they have an open season.”
“Kid huntin’? Do they do that in cities?!” Apple Bloom asked with a gulp.
“Of course not! Why would anyone just hunt kids without a reason? Besides, it doesn’t matter why,” said Scootaloo. She pointed down. “We could hide in the sewers, if we can reach them, but even Feather Buster isn’t stupid enough to not put guards on every way into the market.”
Zecora said nothing, eyes trailing in the direction the young pickpocket was pointing, and she hummed thoughtfully. A few steps took her to a basket of herbs, and she pushed it aside.
“You seek to escape by going below,” she called, glancing back and tapping her bare foot. “Then please, allow me to help you do so.”
Her foot tapped again, and pausing for a moment to cock her head to the side, she listened to something only she could hear. At the first squeak of a syllable from Sweetie she raised a hand, one finger up to shush her. They watched, quiet but fascinated, as she pressed her hand to the stone tiles.
“Fortunate holds much favour for you today. That is to say…” The glow in her eyes this time was entirely from within; a flash of green that spoke of lush forests and endless jungles, a single shade that somehow found within it all the varieties of nature. Words left her mouth, but there was no rhyme to them, though none but her understood her.
“Whoa…”
Scootaloo’s jaw dropped open, mirrored by the others, as Zecora’s hand pressed deeper and deeper into the stone tile. Her hand moved, and stone flowed like water, bending and twisting as if it were soft as putty. She pushed, and it moved. Her work went without speaking, molding stone as easily as clay beneath her hands. A hole first, then more, before her thorough work had created a hole in the market square nearly five feet wide.
Apple Bloom cautiously tapped her foot against the stone next to her. She drew her foot back quickly, though nothing had changed. She let out a sigh of relief, and put fears of sinking into the floor to rest, just in time to have them return at the sight of Sweetie stepping cautiously closer.
“Sweetie,” she hissed, reaching for her.
Sweetie jerked her arm away. “She doesn’t mind,” she said, leaning past the strange merchant to peer into the growing hole. “Right?”
Zecora looked up for a moment just to smile, nodding, but her work went on undisturbed. If anything, her smile grew at the sound of small feet scurrying to get closer, until she had all three watching her.
Eyes narrow, Scootaloo frowned, until her nose twitched and she gasped. “The sewers!” she said, a grin starting to form. “We can get into them here and they won’t know it!”
Lifting her head from her work, Zecora smiled and nodded. “That was the plan. Though of this smell, I am not a fan.” She leaned down, peering into the tunnel she’d uncovered. “I fear these tunnels may be too small. Give me but a moment, and I shall make sure you are not too tall.”
“Yeah…” Scootaloo scowled. Why did the market’s weird drainage sewers have to be smaller than a person? It was just bizarre!
Apple Bloom and Sweetie crowded in when Zecora left the hole, peering in expectantly. Sweetie’s lips drew back, and she waved a hand in front of her nose.
“It kinda smells,” she whined.
“Why is it always smells with you? Of course it smells, it’s got stuff draining into it from all over the market, but it’s better than being caught by Feather Buster,” retorted Scootaloo with a shudder. “It’ll be a tight squeeze…”
Rubbing her chin, Apple Bloom frowned. “Darn, Ah wish Ah could do something. Do we got any butter?”
Scootaloo raised an eyebrow at her. “Butter? Why would I have butter?”
“Well, Ah dunno,” Apple Bloom said with a shrug. “Ah was thinkin’ we could use it to make it easier to squeeze through.”
The barefoot tread of the mysterious peddler cut off their discussion. A jar in her hand, she pulled the wide cork off. Even in the dim light, the balm within was easy for all to see. Dark fingers slipped into the creamy substance, scooping it up.
“There is always a way, and if I may be so bold, you will escape so long as you do as you are told.” With a flick of her finger she slashed a line of balm across Scootaloo’s forehead. The girl yelped, trying to pull back, but Zecora’s hand followed her, wiping and swiping until the balm decorated Scootaloo’s face with strange yet simple design.
“Hey!”
“Calm yourself, my wary little one. I need apply my balm to your friends and we are done,” soothed Zecora, smiling down at her. Despite herself, Scootaloo did find herself relaxing. “Soon all will be clear. Good for you, this potion is not too dear.”
“Not too- potion?!” Apple Bloom almost sent Scootaloo into the hole, rushing to see the jar. “Ooh, can Ah look? Since the town’s old alchemist died, Ah ain’t had anythin’ interestin’ to do. Ah didn’t know ya could make a potion into a balm!”
Zecora pulled the jar away before she could grab it, hand raising at the same time to dab and smear the grabby girl. “I appreciate your interest in my balm, but mind your touch lest it lead to harm. A work of magic and brewing in my hands might heal, yet for one unlearned, lives it can steal.”
Apple Bloom gulped, dropping her hands. “Er, sorry, Ah didn’t think...so, what is this stuff? Why are ya puttin’ it all over me? Is it like a magic potion?”
“The mages here speak of potions and scrolls but they are not so different for me. Brewed like a potion but used like a scroll, as you will soon see.” The tattooed woman moved on, drawing each of the girls to the hole and marking them in turn. “For five brief minutes my magic will make you small. I trust you can make it, if you have the wherewithal.”
“So, we get shrunk an’ we can use the drainage tunnels?” Apple Bloom grinned. “That’s amazin’! Them nasty thugs won’t ever be able to find us!”
She all but jumped into the hole, and held out a hand to help Sweetie get down. Scootaloo lingered, pausing at the hole. She glanced at Zecora, then at the excited girls, and couldn’t quite piece it all together. None of this made sense.
“I just don’t get it. Why are you helping us? We burst into your tent to hide, I threw a knife at you, and now you’re using all this magic to help us!” She glared, almost angry.
“My goal in life is to help those who cannot help themselves. From the most distant of hermits to wealthy kings, from humble halflings to arrogant elves.” Reaching out, Zecora took Scootaloo’s hand in her own, and press both against the girl’s chest. “Even more, though I sense the flow of destiny, the tides of fate. I help you because of one simple fact. ”
Looking down at the hands on her heart, Scootaloo’s brows knit in confusion, and she peered at Zecora uncertainly. “What is it?”
Zecora smiled. “I have a heart, and it tells me I must act. You are children in danger. I must help, though I am a stranger.”
Scootaloo stared at her, eyes lit with confusion. Her mouth opened, then closed again. She didn't know what to say. People, she knew, didn't care. They shouldn't, at least, and only one person ever had.
And sometimes, Scootaloo doubted if Dash still did.
"...thanks."
Zecora smiled, and gently pushed her towards the hole. "All my life, I have sought to help, a need to give in my heart burns. Go on, and remember, once you have shrunk you will have but five minutes before your size returns."
She pressed a hand to their cheeks, one at a time, and whispered in that strange, primal tongue. They fidgeted, tingles dancing over their skin and through their bodies. Even as they dropped into the hole.
"Thanks, we'll bring back our sisters to meet you when we find them, to say thanks," Sweetie Belle promised. She waved, shrinking form easily fitting into the drainage tunnel. "Ooooh, I'm tiny!"
Zecora's hands glowed, and it only took a touch for the stone to fall in, stone sloughing down like a waterfall.
*
“We’re here.”
This announcement, grand as it was, echoed in the gloom of the deepest sewer tunnels. No one replied, until Twilight looked back at them. The drip of water, the tap of feet slowly dying away as they stopped in front of...
“Yay. A table.” Dash rolled her eyes. “How exciting.”
Twilight sighed. “This isn’t a table.” She gestured at the circular slab of stone rising a foot from the floor before them. “This is an access point to Old Canterlot. We just need to move it, and we can descend into the undercity.”
“Right then!” Applejack heaved her backpack off, supplies weighing it down as she left it at her feet, and advanced. “Lemme see how heavy this thing is.”
“Not like that,” Twilight said, shaking her head. She flicked her fingers, curved them as if to hold something. A moment passed, and indeed she was; a scroll. It unrolled easily. “There are other ways into Old Canterlot, but this is the safest I could find. No climbing dangerous tunnels to find the trigger, no swimming through murky waters to open a drain, just a few magic words and we’re in.”
Dash rolled her eyes again. “Well, go on then, Sparkle, impress us.”
Biting back another sigh, Twilight glanced at Spike as she waved Applejack back from the plug. He looked away, tracing a finger across the wall, and for a moment she considered asking if something was wrong. He’d been hanging near the wall the whole time, and a pang of worry ran through her.
‘No, not right now,’ she decided. ‘He probably just misses his friend. We’ll talk after this is over.’
Scroll raised before her, she put her worries aside and focused. The beautiful cursive seemed to shimmer as her eyes ran across each artful word, and almost without needing to try, she felt her mouth begin to form the first.
Angelic syllables played across her lips, a tingle left in their wake. Whatever made them so, it rushed through her like a flood of energy, energy that grounded itself into the plug. Golden light danced across it into twisting shapes that resolved into symbols. The plug’s rim glittered before them with strings of celestial characters.
A whistle from behind reminded Twilight of her companions, and she spared a moment to glance back at them. It brought a smile to her face to see Applejack’s awed expression, and the grudging interest Dash wasn’t quite able to hide, craning her neck to get a better look without actually giving herself away by getting closer. When she looked back to the plug, the stone was translucent.
“Impressed?” she asked, unable to quite keep the smugness from her voice. A spluttered scoff drew her gaze back to the thief.
Dash whipped her head away, scowling. “Yeah, yeah, real fancy,” she grumbled. “So you can make glowy words turn stone into black goo, great.”
“They’re not just glowy words, they’re...wait,” Twilight stopped mid-word, brow knitting in confusion. “Black goo?”
“Er, Twi’, what is this stuff?” Applejack asked, her question bringing the mage’s head back around in time to see the farmer take a step towards the rising swell of matte black where once there had been stone. She leaned down, staring as a protrusion grew, wiggling in front of her.
“Get back!” The words screamed from Twilight’s throat, ripping clear for the hiss of arcane that rose to her lips. “Magic Missile!”
Applejack was already moving before the mage began to cast, knowing a warning when she heard one. The air sizzled, black goo whipping out a moment too late as the protrusion exploded into a sweeping limp. The tentacle writhed before her before bolts of force rent it apart.
All in an instant, the goo surged up from the unsealed tunnel to a chorus of steel slithering from sheaths, it’s thick ‘flesh’ parting into a dozen or more tentacles. They pressed against stone, trails of smoke rising from the contact, as its core rose up on its many limbs.
“Spike, Mage Armour, now,” Twilight snapped, failing back with staff raised to the creature. She didn’t wait or look back to make sure he was complying, her focus narrowing to the goo thing before her.
Dash went hurtling past, blades in hand and hungry grin on her face. “Aw yeah, come get some, goo monster!”
She ducked a tentacle that swung up at her approach, letting it soar overhead. Hilts spun in her hands, landing a back-handed grip that brought them together above her head, blades ringing against each other.The shrill shriek of metal on metal filled her ears as she sent them up, parting through the tentacle, going up and away from each other in a blur. Still moving, she was gone before the severed tentacle fell.
“Stop it with the fancy stuff, Rainbow.” Applejack grunted, muscles bunching with tense energy. Her coat flapped as she sidestepped a lash of writhing goo, and she swung. The power in her arms unloaded itself in a dreadful blow. It seared through, and the maimed tentacle drew back as the cut portion lost cohesion. A cloud of smoke wafted from the steaming goo, eating into the stone.
“Don’t let it touch you!” Twilight called. She kept moving back, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Mage Armour-”
The spell went off in the nick of time. No sooner had she felt the suit of invisible protection fade into existence around her then she heard Applejack cry out a warning. The clean wound before her had swollen and erupted like a bolt from a crossbow, shooting across the distance to same head on into the mage. What felt like a light punch to the gut knocked Twilight back a step, and she had a moment to stare at the hissing black goo flattened as if against glass, an inch or so of empty space from her.
“Back up a bit, sugar, before this thing busts down that magic armour of yours,” ordered Applejack, dropping a heavy blow through the tentacle before her, and hurriedly repositioning her sword to turn aside a rapid swipe at her legs with the flat of her blade a few moments later. “These things are growing back! How do we kill it?”
Dash added her voice to the request, yelping as she leapt above a lashing tentacle. “Seriously! Why doesn’t it have, you know, a big spleen or something I can stab?”
“A spleen?!” A note of hysterics entered Spike’s voice as he pointed a finger at it. “Magic Missile! Why would you aim for the spleen?”
His bolts of force pounded across the bulbous blob at its centre, and for a moment its goo-flesh was thinned. A demand for them to stop the banter frozen on the tip of her tongue, Twilight caught sight of the pulsing core, lit with arcane energies, within the blob. Suspicion flickered across her face, and she raised her hand with a calculating expression.
Her Ray of Frost was barely a spell, a mere cantrip, but it shot across the intervening space to trace its chilling energies along the gap in the goo. She was rewarded by a shudder that shook its gelatinous body.
“Girls,” she called, and ignored Spike’s offended expression. Twilight pointed. “That’s its core in the centre! Aim for that!”
“Gotcha.” Applejack held back, glancing across the tentacles between her and the core. “Dash, ya wanna give it somethin’ else to think about?”
Cocky smirk in full force, Dash spun her weapons with agile fingers. “I’ll give it two things to think about.”
One shortsword stabbed; the other sliced, and the thief danced between flailing tentacles. She led them to one side, and Applejack didn’t need a better chance. She charged, heavy blade raised as she churned up the distance with heavy stamps.
Dash’s grin dropped away. “AJ, look out!”
The ranger’s eyes flicked towards her friend for a moment, and her vision was filled by an oncoming tentacle. Her boots scuffed across stone as she fought to slow herself, and even before it hit Applejack realised she’d made a mistake. She gasped and nearly fell when it slapped into her side. The faint sizzle of its acidic touch reached her ears, and her nose twitched at the scent of her leather coat taking the blow, but the force carried through. If she didn’t have any broken ribs, it wasn’t for lack of trying on the monster’s part.
“Get back!” Acid spat from a distance, a little spray of toxic green flung from Spike’s hand onto the tentacle.
“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Applejack wheezed. She stepped back before it could land another strike, potentially more fatal, with one hand pressed to her side. “Don’t think we can get close, not with all those damn things in the way.”
Twilight sent another spray of Magic Missiles streaking through the the air, each landing with perfect accuracy on the core. Goo-flesh blew away as each struck, and the whole thing shuddered.
“We need to get at it. I don’t have many more offensive spells prepared,” she warned.
Applejack wasn’t green enough to to take her eyes off the enemy, but she took her hand off her side to wave back at the wizard. “Don’t worry, sugar, I got another idea. Dash, you doing okay?”
“Pfft, what, you think this ugly thing could hit me?” The thief was doing well, it had to be admitted, and she threw Applejack a grin that was mostly genuine. “Dream on, hick.”
Retreating, Applejack grinned back. “Eyes on the monster, Rainbow,” she said. Her greatsword slid back into it sheath,and in its place she began to pull her longbow out. “I just need a second to get ready…”
“No rush,” said Dash, and nearly got her face melted off for her trouble. Instead she jerked her head to the side, and her shoulder took the glancing blow without breaking anything. It hurt, sure, but compared to the alternatives she decided it wasn’t so bad.
The thief kept up her slow advance, slowly getting closer as magic streaked past at the monster’s core. She couldn’t risk looking back now; it would be too much of a distraction, and considering it would either melt her head or pound it to a mush, Dash wasn’t really in a position to ignore it.
After far too long for her own taste, Applejack raised her bow. Arrow notched, she pulled back and felt the familiar tension build. Lining up her shot, the ranger cut out the distraction of Dash flinging herself about with reckless abandon. and the colours of freezing rays and globes of acid. Eyes down the arrow, her target held firm in her sights…
It was the faintest of sensations, but it was there; a buzz in her ears, a rush in her blood that set nerves aflame. It came naturally to her, and so she let it happen. Energy rushed through her and words she didn’t know were spun by her tongue and shaped by her lips. The world vanished, just her and the bow in her hands. Static shock seemed to bounce between the arrow and her hand as if building.
The world came back to her in a sudden rush, and, unsure how long had passed, Applejack fired with almost absent ease. The magic surged through the arrow, but there was no flash of insight to guide its path as her blade had been guided. This spell, this sorcerous magic, was different.
Tremors erupted in every tentacle as the arrow head plunged deep into the core. A weight greater than an arrow had any right to pushed it deep into the vulnerable flesh. If ever a creature of goo could said to feel rage, that must have been what gripped it.
Applejack didn’t waste time questioning it. She’d already notched the next arrow, and as it began its lurch towards her, she fired again. Years of practice paid off, and not just in accuracy; she saw just before the arrow hit the glimmer of magic and the change to its descent, as if its weight had somehow increased. Whatever the magic did, her arrows struck and sunk into the vulnerable core with satisfying shudders to its wriggling mass.
Her third arrow was barely notched when the shivering core began to retreat. The tentacles fell away as the core descend into the hole, apparently ignoring Dash’s indignant demands it come back.
“Hey! Get back here you stupid jelly!” she called, huffing as it disregarded her. Her shortswords cut furrows in fleeing tentacles, and still they ignored her as the creature squeezed down. It took only seconds for it to compress itself down the hole, and suddenly the ancient tunnel was quiet, the only sounds left their panting.
“Well….that was interestin’,” Applejack finally remarked. She lowered her bow, but didn’t quite put it away or take her eyes off the hole. “That the sort of thing we’re expectin’ down there?”
Twilight took a moment to catch her breath, and tried to crane her head up a few inches in case that would suddenly let her see down the hole. “That sort of thing is certainly possible, with how much strange magic has been left to age down there...though with you two, I don’t think we’ll need to be worried.”
“Eh? But it got away!” Dash scowled at the hole, pointing at it with a wave of a sword. “And I couldn’t even get close before it ran off!”
“That wasn’t the point,” the scholar corrected her. She reached over to Spike, deciding that contrary to all evidence, he could have been hurt and would only be fine if she checked him over.
Spike grimaced. “I’m fine,” he huffed, tugging her hands off with a scowl. “It didn’t even get near me.”
She frowned, but let go. “We all worked together, and we got it to retreat before any of us were hurt,” Twilight went on. “That was what counted.”
“We ain’t here for monster huntin’,” added Applejack. She trod cautiously up to the hole, and ready to leap back at any moment, peered into it. The tense energy fading from her shoulders was visible as she relaxed. “It’s gone.”
“Tch,” scoffed Dash. Her shortswords slid back into their sheaths, and she glared at the hole as if it had personally affronted her. “Next monster we see, I’m totally taking it down.”
Twilight approached the hole, casting her gaze into its depths. Without the magical vision of Applejack’s hat, all she saw was deep, grim shadows that run onto into world’s past. With a thought her staff lit up, casting its light from the violet orb that topped it.
“The next monster we see, it will be in Old Canterlot,” she said grimly. Her hands tightened upon the staff, and her eyes narrowed. “This it. We’re going down.”
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Wonder why the girls didn't want a Black Pudding? I hear they're delicious!
THE TRIUMPHANT RETURN!
Of AppleDash and Spikaloo play DnDSuper excited to see work on this continue. Keep it up!
Man i missed reading this. I was waiting for this for so long that i was so glad to see it updated and stayed up to 2 am to finish reading it and typing this comment. the interaction between the characters is still solid and entertaining with my favorite interactions being between spike and rainbow dash. So far I like the way these two get along in the story right down to the playful teasing and the common trait of both being non-human for a lack of better words. Also out the three, rainbow seems to be the closest one to treating spike as an equal with, unlike twilight who constantly smother him with worry, which I consider important in friendship.
Applejack also treats spike with a bit more credit as well, but still seems to see him little less than rainbow. She's not wrong however since spike has very little experience in combat. However she diffidently has enough consideration for him to let him at least try to get some experience. Maybe this trip will help give spike a chance to prove himself as reliable ally to twilight.
while the CMC side story may not be my favorite part of the story, it was still entertaining to read with plenty of exciting parts. I can't wait for the reunion between the sisters. hope you update soon again.
Quite amusing :) Especially the part where they just accept that Zecora rhymes everything, but can't except when she doesn't :P
Who let Sweetie get Wail of the Banshee?
I take Intelligence is Sweetie dump stat.
6521512 Not when it moves and tries to eat you.
It's probably a good thing Scootaloo found Sweetie before someone less scrupulous did.
... Wow, did I jinx that or what?
"Party," Twilight. The proper collective noun for a group of
murderhoboestomb robbersadventurers is a party. I figured Shining would've mentioned it at some point.Sorry, Scoots, but praying to Dash isn't going to help unless Auto has some really big twists in store later. And even then, it's still not going to help now.
Your Zecora dialogue is... a noble effort.
Seems like better than even odds of the Crusaders finding their way into Old Canterlot completely by accident.
I like oozes, at least when I'm on the other end of the story. A fun fight, and more sorcery from AJ.
In all, a very enjoyable chapter.
A very enjoyable chapter. Great Job.
6527559 Pinkie and Fluttershy are in the next story, I'm afraid.
6528162
Yes, I am terrible at rhyming. Did my best, which isn't saying much I'm afraid.
6531024 6521943 Glad you enjoyed it.
Twilight, Sweety, it's called a party, and make sure you never split it.
6523510
More like Wisdom.
6531393
A noble effort, indeed. It helps when you not only get the rhymes, but also the meter. Think symmetry. If part A is five beats long, then part B should be as well. Dunno if this has been discussed earlier (it's been a while since I read this story), but a proofreader would not be remiss either.
6555240 I have two proof readers, as it happens. I'm just terrible at all things poetic. Be a bit silly if I didn't have proof readers.
Ah. Aaawwwkwaaarrrd...
6555240 6555287
I try to stick to the meter given if I'm suggesting part of a line from her, but overall I don't like rewriting entire lines of dialogue if they get the point across.
6557789
Well, meter is an important part of rhyming, especially Zecora's; otherwise, it's just a sentence (or two) with two words that sound similar. Zecora is a bit of a poet, and seems to follow those rules when speaking, so it would only make sense to try to match that when writing her dialogue; if only to get her idiom across. Now, I realize how difficult it can be for some people (I, myself had to struggle a bit with finding the right words to fit the meter when I wrote a scene with her), but the extra effort you put into it makes a world of difference, and it just feels so good when you feel like you got it just right, instead of just good enough to get the point across.
So, it's like the Alchemist base class as seen in the Advanced Player's Handbook?
6680386 Not quite, since she lacks any levels in Alchemist. Believe me, I'm familiar with every single class in Pathfinder.
6682810
Perhaps right now you are, yes. But I wonder if that'll be true when the new Aethera campaign setting is released.
6682815 I'll read it and then know, so problem solved. I am, in fact, all knowing. Little know fact - except I know it, because I am all knowing. Irrefutable logic!
6683179
Your face is irrefutable logic!
Holy balls that is some great cover art
Probably one of the most entertaining fanfic I've read on this site and the way you handle those characters is just great, they never get boring.
this is beautiful and so well written!! i've actually had an idea to do something like this before i found it and this is some good inspiration so thanks for that, i really hope that you can get back to this in the future as i would love to see more.
Been on a D&D kick lately, and decide to reread one of my favorite stories. Any chance you'll pick this up again someday?
More please?
Is there any chance this story is still alive or be resurrected?
Man I can't believe I waited so long to read this story it's absolutely amazing I hope it continues.