The Wayfarers

by TheFictionAddiction

Chapter Fifteen: That's new...

Business had brought Speira to the Crystal Palace on at least a dozen occasions, yet there was nary a time where it ceased to amaze her. Quill spared his daughter a quick glance. For the second time that week, Speira had betrayed the adult she was forced to be. Childish wonder battled with composure in those dark eyes of Speira’s. Though Quill always enjoyed seeing the happy, he was even happier when a steely coldness came over her gaze. The brief flirtations of childhood were a nice fancy every so often, but childhood didn’t change what Speira was and what Quill needed her to be.

It seems Quill wasn't the only one who noted Speira’s struggle, either. Though the hitch in Quill’s step was momentary, hardly more than a pause as he looked back, it had been enough to draw the attention of the already alert pony to his left. Thinking something might be amiss, Speckled Band followed Quill’s gaze.

“Something wro-” It was all he had time to say before he found Speira, the child named Speira. For she was a child in that moment, the grisly years of her youth peeled away to reveal a star struck little girl in a big city.

Then it was gone, vanishing with startling speed. Speckled Band brought his attention forward and hoped Speira hadn't saw him staring. Then he looked up at the palace with new set of eyes, with a child set of eyes.

Its presence was immense, like a mountain pressing down upon a molehill. Yet, even while caught in the heavy shadow it cast, Speckled Band couldn't bring himself to find the immaculate giant threatening. Those spires glistening like embers in the sunlight as she watched over her subjects down below. A symbol is what she was, a symbol for a future as rich and as grand as the jewels the Crystal Empire was known for.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Speckled Band asked, his voice rising above the babble of the market. He hadn't intended on saying anything, but seeing that look in Speira had moved him. The Corporal had always been convinced on some level consciousness that the Crystal Palace had a way of bringing out the best in the ponies. If one wanted proof, they'd need only look at the brimming, happy faces all around.

“I must have seen this view over a hundred times,” he continued. “Yet… even now as I look up at it… it still feels just like the first time…” His voice tapered off. Suddenly, Speckled Band felt exceedingly aware of his counterparts.

Speckled Band did his best to shrug off the weight of their gazes. “Anyways, best we not dawdle. The Captain has been horrible busy as of late, and I'd rather not keep him waiting longer than we already have.”

Without sparing another word, or even a glance, the Corporal pushed on. This time with fervor.

On the move again, Speira reasserted herself over her emotions with cold calculation. The filly had been smothered and the sellsword was dominate once more. Quill was not so quick to dismiss the Corporal. As he trudged on, the checkpoint marking entrance into the royal courtyard coming into sight, the old bird couldn't help but feel a tiny surge of affection for the young soldier.

Speckled Band reminded Quill of himself from a lifetime ago, back when his feathers didn't lack their luster and his joints didn't ache if he slept in for too long… back when duty and country were as much a part of him as wing and talon.

Oh, to be young and patriotic, he thought wistfully, without even a trace of cynicism.

If Quill was to be honest, it was ponies like Speckled Band that truly gave Equestria hope for a better future. His was the kind of pony who would be willing to stand vigil when everyone else had long tumbled off to slumber. A soldier who would become a warrior when worse came to worse.

Perhaps these ponies have a thing or two to teach this old bird. Quill smiled and relished the thought.

****

Gaining access into the royal castle was an all day affair that required an appointment, and even then it usually took all day. The guards manning the checkpoints were as thorough as a prostate exam, and just as pleasant. Though it seemed impossible for the crystal ponies -most the time all smiles and giggles- to have an evil bone in their body, it seemed to make no difference to the soldiers. They did their job, and did it mercilessly.

Can't say I blame them, Quill thought. I'm just glad we left unarmed. Won't take long at all if they don't decide to search us.

Thankfully, the trio seemed to be an exception. They made their way post-haste past the final checkpoint, unimpeded and unhampered.

Maybe it was Speckled Band’s presence that placated the soldiers. However, Quill had other suspicions. He was not ignorant of the uneasy looks that fell upon them, nor the murmurs that seemed to follow in their wake. Quill could barely hear any of it over the din of plate armor clattering about, but he hears them nevertheless.

It was to be expected, however. The royal guard was always in a huff when the griffin in black and his killer filly came a calling.

A quick peek at the filly to his back told Quill that all the chatter had done nothing to shake Speira’s resolve either. She remained as reserved and stoic as ever.

Sticks and stones mean nothing to a brick wall, Quill thought with the ghost of a smile.

Thankfully, all the talk and sideways glances were left behind in the courtyard. Once past the great opal doors of the castle, any soldier they came upon patrolling the crystal corridors didn't so much as spare a thought for the two mercenaries. Maybe that was due more to the fact that Quill was within reaching distance of any of the passing guards’ jugulars.

“You’ll have to forgive them, manners are in short order among our ranks,” Corporal Speckled said suddenly. Though he spoke softly, his voice seemed to echo.

At least we won't have to worry about one of those guards getting the drop on us, Quill thought. Those tin cans could probably be heard all the way in Canterlot.

“But it’s not just to do with manners, as I guess you well know.” Speckled Band frowned. “There is much talk about the work you two have done these past few months. Some think it’s just that: talk. Nothing more than rumors spread by loud mouths and bored tongues. Either way, you two have quite the reputation here.”

Speckled Band seemed to grow wary now. It was as if he thought the silence between them might be venomous. Quill dismissed these fears with a wave of his talons.

“No need to apologize, Corporal. We are not deaf, but nor are we thin-skinned. It’s simply another hazard of a sellsword’s life.”

Speckled frowned at that and Quill thought he might have more to say on the matter. The Corporal was cut short, however. Quill had heard the approaching soldier coming since Speckled Band had first started to speak. It seemed Speckled Band, so accustomed to the racket of clanking armor that he must be deaf to it, was not so fortunate.

As they took a hard left, the Corporal nearly collided with a gilded soldier. Speckled Band's reflexes were keen, it seemed, for he managed a quick sidestep that saved them both from what would've been a rather embarrassing tumble.

“S-sorry about that, C-corporal,” the soldier stammered out, drawing himself up to attention. His hoof rose to his forehead in a salute so fast that Quill was sure he would have knocked himself out.

“Was in such a rush to the barracks that I didn't even hear you coming! W-won't happen again, I swear!”

This soldier could have been Speckled Band’s senior by ten years. Yet, the way he spoke, one would've thought the poor guy had almost bumped into the captain himself, not a corporal.

“That's quite alright, Private,” Speckled said, a hint of color burning on his cheeks. “At ease, for Celestia’s sake.”

The hoof that seemed practically glued to the Private’s forehead reluctantly fell back to the floor. All four hooves now planted, the private wasted no time in making himself scarce.

Speckled Band watched after the Private for a moment, the color in his face subsiding now, before shaking his head and pressing on. Quill lingered for moment, waiting for the Corporal to get a few paces ahead before following. After that flush of embarrassment, Speckled Band was too out of sorts to realize he no longer walked two abreast.

Quill motioned to Speira and she was at his side in an instant.

“Tell me something, Speira,” he whispered, taking great care not to be overheard, “Did that Private seem a tad bit… frightened?”

“He did seem rather strange now that you mention it,” she answered, those sharp eyes never once leaving Speckled’s backside. “Why do you ask?”

Quill shrugged. “I just think it odd that a private would practically soil himself trying to salute a corporal -a corporal so young, I might add.”

There was silence between them, but only for a moment.

“You suspect something, don't you, Papa?”

Quill smirked. “Just a feeling, my dear, just a feeling.”

That was as good of an answer as any. Speira made a note of this and decided to study the Corporal with even greater attention.

Her father wouldn't tell her what he was thinking, not at a time or place like this, so it was up to Speira to figure it out for herself. Quill would want this, she suspected.

****

Every hallway and doorway in that crystalline maze looked exactly the same to the untrained eye. Beautiful? Definitely so; the hallways were alight with the blue flames of the magical torches lining the corridors.

Confusing? Oh yes, but that was by design. Any invading force pushing it’s way into the Crystal Palace would find themselves disoriented, lost, and well on the way to developing a massive migraine.

Quill had to admit, it was rather impressive. It took him five visits to finally understand the castle’s layout. He suspected, however, that such a large construct was meant to hold a host greater than the one Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor currently possessed.

This left some parts of the place without much -if any- use, while other sections of the castle saw nearly too much. One such place was the castle’s study. Shining Armor’s study to be exact. This was their destination. Quill could've found his own way there with just the scratches and scuff marks left by heavy armored hooves.

Just like bread crumbs, Quill thought with a note of disapproval.

It wasn't long before the trio came upon a sour-faced, tree trunk of a stallion stationed outside a sparkling door. The only door they'd passed that warranted guarding.

“Corporal,” the guard greeted, giving a quick salute. “I see you've got the Captain’s… guests.” Quill wasn't sure he liked the look that accompanied the soldier’s words. Was he sensing a hint of contempt?

“At ease, soldier. Is the Captain ready to receive us?”

The soldier smirked ruefully. “He told me a few minutes ago to hold all other visitors ‘cause something came up, but I'd say he'd thank ya big for barging in now.”

Speckled Band grimaced, that bit of news none too pleasant for his pallet. “Another spat?”

“Yes, sir, and it’s a bad one too. Wanna bet which set of furniture she breaks first this time?”

Speckled Band rolled his eyes. “You're relieved, soldier, go about your rounds as usual.”

Quill and Speira shared a glance. Take note my dear, he seemed to tell her. She pulled her cloak tight and nodded.

The soldier smirked again, tipping his head at Speckled Band. “You got it, Corporal. Good luck.”

Speckled Band waited till the soldier had clomped off before turning to the mercenaries. “So, this may be quite the sensitive situation we’re about to walk into. It would... be best if you waited here for the moment.”

Understanding instantly what was happening, Quill nodded. “Don't worry, Corporal. Believe it or not, I understand far too well what it's like when a commanding officer’s personal life bubbles over into the job.”

That earned a sad little smile from the Corporal. “Thank you. I shouldn't be more than a minute or so.” His tone didn't sound hopeful.

A few seconds later the Corporal was gone, opening the study door and slipping in without so much as a sound. Stealth was a premise that Quill had thought the plate armor knew nothing about.

Color me impressed.

Now alone, Quill looked at Speira once more. “See what I mean now, my dear?”

“I think so…”

“I know I've never taught you much about military procedures, but trust me when I say that a corporal doesn't usually have the authority to relieve a fellow soldier.”

“Who does, Papa?”

“The soldier’s commanding officer. In this case, that would be Sir Shining Armor, a captain and a prince.”

Understanding came to Speira at last. She couldn't help but gape.

“That’s right! Didn't that stallion say that Shining Ar-”

“Remember your manners, Speira,” Quill corrected her sharply, his eyes narrowing. “You may speak freely when we are alone, but who knows how many ears might be listening in right now.”

Speira flushed and quickly apologized. Quill just nodded, bidding her to continued.

“Didn't that other stallion say that Prince Shining Armor ordered him to wait out here?”

“Aye, that he did. Now tell me, what is the question that you need to be asking right about now?”

Speira’s eyes grew round. The question was already written clearly enough across her features for Quill to read.

“How can a corporal dismiss the orders of a Prince?”

Quill smiled in that eerie way all griffins do. “Aye, my dear, how indeed.”

****

“I’m sorry, but... the fuck did you just say?”

This was usually Little Whisper’s cue to give Alabaster a good smack to the back of his head. In that instant, however, she was just as floored as he was. The Mayor did flinch at the obscene language, but the delight of having something to take up her time besides paperwork far surpassed the shock of hearing a naughty word.

“It’s just as I said, sir, you three must be the ponies that the sheriff from Appleloosa sent word about. He said I'd get some travelers arriving by train soon: a mare with a braided mane, a stallion with a mouth, and another stallion without a cutie mark. Unless I need to change the prescription of my glasses, I’d say you fit that description quite aptly, wouldn't you?”

“Well, you got us there,” Whisper muttered, eyes downcast.

Alabaster took a step forward and dared to ask the question on all three of the travelers’ minds. “What else did the sheriff say about us?”

Mayor Mare smiled sweetly. Maybe she sensed the tension pulling at the trio and was trying to set them at ease. Then again, maybe she simply enjoyed toying around with the new ponies.

“Oh, he told me a lot,” she answered. Dread dropped like an anchor in Little Whisper’s stomach, nearly making her knees buckle. Midnight, however, remained as impassive as ever. He started to think this was going to be a recurring theme with his new friends.

Alabaster chuckled, trying to hide the butterflies twitching nervously in his gut. “Really now? And… how much is a lot?”

“Hmm… let me try to remember….” The Mayor tapped her chin thoughtfully, her gaze wandering. “Travelers, not from Equestria, booted from Dodge Junction after an altercation with a mare and her bovine companion, apparently in dire need of a roof and a steady income.…”

She glanced back at the trio, her joviality growing rueful. “Does that all sound about correct?”

Alabaster sighed. “Sounds johnny on the freaking spot. Should we show ourselves out or do you want your goblin to do it for you?”

What's the point in courtesy? Alabaster figured. No one gives a damn if you burn down a bridge already toppling.

In that moment, Alabaster, Little Whisper, and Midnight Dreary knew and felt only defeat. Yes, their time in Ponyville had been short -horribly, horribly short.

Yet, in just the quick walk through town, Little Whisper had seen enough to give her hope for a better future. She remembered the strange and enthusiastic carrot farmer that had greeted them outside the train depot, the elderly mare who had treated that cute colt with an apple, and even the built stallion they had passed on the street who had given them nothing more than a nod and a smile.

Whisper couldn't deny that there was an infectious energy that passed through the ponies of this town like an electrical current. She had begun to dare that this untimely little town would be the start of a new life. An Equestrian life.

Of course, she would never say so much to Alabaster. He would've laughed and said that she was just ready to get off the road for once.

“Goblin!? I beg your pardon!” The trio nearly lept out of their hides. They whirled on their hooves to see the ever so charming Sugar Cube in the doorway. Hovering before her, enveloped in a layer of green magic, was a steaming mug.

“Miss Sugar, is that for me?” Mayor Mare practically cooed. “Oh dear, you shouldn't have!”

Sugar’s eyes flashed threateningly at Alabaster before gliding back over to Mayor Mare. “I know how dozy you can get after signing papers. Thought I might bring you something with a little life in it.”

Sugar pushed past the travelers, the look she shot Alabaster suggested that she had a few more things to say, but thankfully for everyone she decided to keep them to herself.

Mayor Mare took the mug in both hooves, beaming like a foal on Hearth’s Warming.

“Hmm. I can't tell you how good this looks right now! But tell me… does it have a… a little extra love in it by chance?” She asked, winking mischievously.

“Why of course, Mayor.” The faintest hint of a smile teased at the corners of her lips -this in itself was scary enough to startle the trio yet again. The secretary levitated the mug over to the Mayor before joining her side, standing at attention. Alabaster had seen a guard dog stand next to its master in a manner quite similar to Miss Sugar’s.

“Forgive me,” the Mayor said, her demeanor growing professional once she blew on the mug, “I do love my hot beverages.”

This earned a brief snort from Sugar Cube, which Mayor Mare curbed with a curt glance. Whatever the joke was, it was lost on the travelers.

A genial smile returning to her face once more, Mayor Mare continued. “Now, what were we talking about? Sorry, my mind can be so fleety.”

Alabaster pointed to himself, Whisper, Midnight, and then motioning towards the door.

“Oh! That silly nonsense about throwing you out. No, no, no, that won't be necessary. We have to talk about your stay in Ponyville after all.”

There was a long pause at this. Alabaster squinted at the Mayor, feeling as if he was looking at her over some great chasm, while Whisper only gaped. One of Midnight’s ears flicked and twitched in agitation.

Are we getting kicked out or not? The thought was an unsung harmony in each of their heads

“I’m sorry, Mayor,” Alabaster started, “But I feel like I might need to rephrase an earlier question.”

“Please don't!” Whisper shot out, looking first from Alabaster to Mayor Mare. By the time her gaze found Mayor Mare, Whisper’s initial shock had been beaten down and was replaced with a cool, calm collectiveness.

Whisper’s “bureaucrat face”, as Alabaster puts it.

“You’ll have to forgive my friend here, Mayor, things haven't exactly been… easy for us. He tends to be a bit...” Whisper was reaching now. “Overly emotional at times.”

Alabaster grumbled something under his breath, but at a glance from Whisper he quickly apologized.

“Please,” Mayor Mare raised hoof, “There's no need for that! I've heard plenty to know that you three haven't exactly been treated like royalty.”

When the trio continued to stare at the mayor with raised eyebrows, Miss Sugar tacked on, “Perhaps you should get to the point, ma’am, this lot doesn't seem particular to jokes.”

“Jokes?” Whisper echoed.

“Well, can you blame me?” Mayor Mare said, pouting to her beloved assistant. “When you spend all day signing papers, stamping papers, and filing papers, you darn well nearly become like paper yourself I need something to quicken the old wit of mine!”

“Trust me, I know full and well,” Sugar grumbled, deciding this was a perfect time to take her leave before she let something else slip -something that might actually stir up the even-tempered mayor.

“Thanks again for the hot drink, Miss Sugar,” Mayor Mare called out, cut off by a slam as the office door was kicked shut.

“I tell you,” the mayor said, turning a wild grin to her visitors, “That mare needs to get drunk, laid, or both. There's only so much I can do for her.”

You know, Alabaster thought, massaging his temples, I know I can't say it, but Whisper can't stop me from thinking it: What the actual shit is going on!

Whisper glanced at the door for a moment before looking back to the mayor. “I'm sorry, Miss Mayor, but-”

“Please, just call me Mayor!”

Whisper stared at the older mare for moment before realizing that this hadn't been a joke; that goofy smile she wore was too sincere to be joking.

“Right… Mayor… forgive me for being so blunt, but… what's going on?”

“Yeah,” Alabaster added, “Are we staying? Are we going? I'm feeling a little too emotional to deal with this level of fuckery.”

Alabaster grimaced at his own choice of words, and it was probably that grimace that stayed a reprimand from Whisper.

Mayor Mare chuckled and motioned for Alabaster, Whisper, and Midnight closer. “Please, I assure you that I’m not sending anypony out of my office… unless it’s Miss Sugar when she asks for a raise again. Now, pull up a chair, please. We have much to discuss.”

****

There were plenty of comfortable chairs in Equestria, hundreds even. Unfortunately, their existence was mute within the realm of Ponyville’s mayor. No matter how Midnight turned, or scooted, or adjusted himself in the rigid thing, he just couldn't quite get comfortable. His relentless squirming ended when a sudden movement produced a loud, flatulent sound. Midnight fell still as three sets of eyes fell on him.

“You alright there, buddy? Alabaster asked, smirking. Midnight slumped in his seat and muttered something that sounded like ‘It was the chair, I swear’.

Mayor Mare cleared her throat. “Well, now that we’re all comfy, how about we get down to brass tacks? Unless anypony has a question-”

“Actually, if you really don't mind, I got something I'd like to ask first.”

From the surprised look on the Mayor’s face she hadn't actually expected anyone to answer her rhetorical. However, she was quick to recover.

Giving a polite smile and nod, she said, “Of course, go right ahead, Mr… I’m sorry, I'm terribly slow at learning names.”

“That’s fine. Name’s Alabaster.”

Whisper turned restlessly in her own chair as she watched her friend. The look of unspoken promises of head slaps and scoldings, which is what Alabaster had been expecting when he spoke up, was instead replaced with a silent plea.

Please think about what you're about to say, Al. Don't screw up our one miracle …

Perhaps Alabaster had sensed these thoughts, for he gave Whisper a little wink. Something to assure his friend that he really was trying to learn from past mistakes. Then, all at once, Alabaster was all business. He sat a little straighter in his chair now, that good humor reserved for his dearest friend melting away to cold calculation before the Mayor’s eyes.

“Let me start off by saying that we appreciate you not having throwing us out the moment we came waddling in, we really do.” Whisper and Midnight nodded in agreement. “That said, I have to ask… why?”

Mayor Mare raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Yeah, why? At Dodge Junction we were tossed out on our flanks simply for letting it slip that we weren't from Equestria.” Me acting like dick didn't help our case none. “Though we did have the benefit of running into a sheriff with a conscience at Appleloosa, he still told us that it would be in our best interest to keep moving before people started to ask questions -said they wouldn't feel none too happy about our lineage either.

“So why you? Why Ponyville? I've heard that the grass is greener farther on down the track, but I'm pretty damn sure there's more to it than just the topography.”

Mayor Mare’s smile fell and was replaced with something Alabaster hadn't been expecting. Remorse.

“Oaky told me a bit about what happened at Dodge Junction, and about how rabid Rhinestone was when he phoned the Appleloosa office. Oaky said that the poor bugger might have riled a posse together and risked the desert to chase after you if he hadn't convinced Rhinestone how foolish that would be.”

Anger sickled between Alabaster eyes at the thought of that bastard sheriff, but quickly winked out. What was the word the Mayor had just said? It was foreign to the pegasus.

Phoned? The hell does that mean. That didn't matter right now. Alabaster pushed the thought away and redoubled his focus.

Mayor Mare’s eyes had begun to drift. She sighed and continued. “It pains me that that was your first experience with Equestrian hospitality… though, I doubt you'd call such a display hospitality. But to better answer your question, that's because I’ve always believed that everypony should be given a fair chance at life in Equestria.

“Friendship is the very tenant our country was founded upon. Doesn't seem we would be paying our foremothers and fathers the proper respect if we just ousted any pony simply because they are different. I suppose you could say I'm just trying to do my bit to make them proud.”

The mayor took a long drought from her mug before continuing once more. From the twinkle in her eyes, Whisper guessed that the Mayor could've kept on talking about home and country for some time.

Instead, Mayor Mare set the mug back down and restrained herself with a tug of her tie. Alabaster could have sworn he had smelled something on the mare’s breath other than coffee, something that made his tongue tingle and his forehead break out in a cold sweat.

Why do I want a drink all of a sudden?

The Mayor cleared her throat, a tinge of color now splotched across her cheeks. “Forgive me. If I don't curb my tongue now, it's likely to run loose from me.” Whisper guessed right.

“Now, onto more pleasant topics.”

That cloud eclipsing her demeanor moved, and now she was just as sunny as before. “Like your new life in Ponyville! We’d best get onto that immediately. There's a lot we need to cover and not much time to do so.”

The Mayor’s grin was infectious. It wasn't long before she had Little Whisper doing it too. Even Midnight was smiling, though, it was small enough that none would notice it.

And Alabaster? He hadn't shown any note of emotion other than curiosity, but Whisper only need to look at him to know there was more to the stallion. She could see Alabaster had finally dared to believe that they had finally found a place to call their own.

****

The Mayor wasn't lying. There was much she needed to cover, and she did it with such speed that it nearly sent Alabaster and Midnight’s heads spinning. Whisper managed to keep pace with the mare well enough. She nodded periodically, making mental notes here and there as the conversation progressed.

Turns out, the three travelers weren't the first outsiders that the mayor had helped integrate into Ponyville life.

“Are you serious?” Alabaster broke in hastily, an optimistic grin splitting his features. “There's others here? Others not from Equestria?”

“That’s right,” Mayor Mare said, happy to see such enthusiasm. “No more than ten, if my memory is correct. Most are ponies from northern cities like Detrot or Manehatten. Since all this construction started, Ponyville just hasn't stopped growing. Capable hooves have been in great demand these last few months, and what better way to fill that demand and hold true to Equestria’s policy on friendship than to help others without a home?”

Now it was Little Whisper’s turn to speak up.

“So, are you saying that ponies around here are okay with living with foreigners?”

Mayor Mare’s own enthusiasm dwindled a bit at that, but for no more than a second.

“I… wouldn't exactly say that. It saddens me to say that quite a few of Ponyville’s citizens are more than hesitant when it comes to trusting outsiders. Heck, you should've seen how they treated a local refugee taking up residence in the Everfree forest some time ago.”

The Mayor flushed, and this time it wasn't because of her drink. “It’s embarrasses me to say that it was none too pretty….”

Alabaster cocked an eyebrow. “So what, then? Have you just been lying about where these ponies came from?”

“Yes! That's exactly what I've been doing!”

“Oh…” Alabaster blinked a few times, scratching at the back of his head. “Well hell, guess that’d work.”

“Quite so!”

The trio studied one another, chewing on the mayor's words with wide eyed speculation. However, it was neither Little Whisper nor Alabaster who posed the next question.

Midnight Dreary spoke for the first time in what felt like ages, his voice sounding almost alien to himself. “If you don't mind me asking, ma’am, but how do you go about something like that? Isn't it… I don't know… difficult?”

Mayor Mare seemed all too happy to answer the quiet fellow - judging from the way her eyes fluttered, a little too happy. However, another beat her to the punch.

“With great care, complete vigilance, and a little bit of help.”

The Mayor almost glowered as her secretary reentered the room. She didn't take to being cut off, it seemed.

“Miss Dandelo has been informed of our guest’s arrival,” Sweets continued, unabated, “and she is making all the necessary arrangements as we speak.”

Midnight’s brow furrowed, rekindling the Mayor's enthusiasm. “It’s just as Miss Sweets said, but the ‘little bit of help’ is what really goes a long way. We have a hoofful of ponies here in Ponyville, Miss Dandelo being one of them, who are quite eager to help foreigners such as yourself.”

“Well, perhaps not as eagerly as you, ma’am.”

“Eh… point taken. Anyways, we can get to that. Right now, what we really need to talk about is-”

And like that, Mayor Mare shot off like a runaway rocket. Little Whisper and Alabaster did their best to keep pace; there was so much to take in, and all of it was being chucked at them.

Midnight, however, found his mind wandering.

The Mayor talked too fast, every chunk of information he tried to swallow almost ended up choking him. Instead, his eyes glanced to the furthest corners of the room, to where small slivers of shadow managed to cling to existence.

Transfixed, a bit of morbid curiosity began to nag at Midnight. If he should close his eyes right now and listen, really listen, what would the shadows of Ponyville have to tell him? The fear of voices heard days prior urged him against it.

But what was this?

Something deep down in his gut refused to let Midnight dismiss the notion. It told, begged him, to just close his eyes and to listen.

To LISTEN…

“Are you alright there, buddy?”

Time and location had snapped back into place around Midnight like a rubber band. Suddenly he was no longer looking at the shadows, he was looking into the eyes of Miss Sweets and the mayor. They watched him, one impassive and the other concerned. A quick glance to the right and he saw that his friends were staring at him too.

“I-I’m sorry,” Midnight stammered, “Were you talking to me?”

It was Alabaster who had addressed him a moment ago, and it was Alabaster who addressed him now.

“Yeah, I asked if you were alright. You looked a little glassy-eyed there for a minute. Thought maybe you had drifted off.”

Over Alabaster’s shoulder, a rather worried Whisper could be seen peering around.

“He wouldn't be the first,” Mayor Mare answered, much to Alabaster’s surprise. “Miss Sweet’s here has said a time or two that I tend to prattle on.” The slight nod from the secretary went unnoticed.

Mayor Mare smiled apologetically. “I’ll try to keep everything to its meat and bones, then. You three must be tired. The train ride from Appleloosa is a long one.”

And to the Mayor’s credit, she did. Any straying thoughts or words were culled easily enough with Sweet’s assistance. Midnight got another questioning look from his friends, but an apologetic smile seemed to placate them for the time being. Besides, it wasn't like the Mayor was giving them much of a chance to dawdle.

This time Midnight took great care not to let his mind wander. He needed to pay attention, for both his friends’ sake and his.

Author's Note: