The master and the windigo

by stupidswampdragon

16 - Going to the bank

"You sure about this?" Lyra whispered. She moved slowly and carefully, her concerns and general anxiety hindering her movements. Doubts had trailed her for a long while at that point, since no less than five side-streets ago. "I mean, we could still go to a cheese shop..."

"With all due respect Master, I am absolutely sure that mortgage isn't a milk-based delicacy," Snowy shook her head.

Lyra made a note of how unusual the windigo looked. The normally subservient creature was suddenly full of determination, going as far as mouthing back at her. That didn't seem like a calculated rebellion however - just a transformation brought by Snowy having finally found a purpose.

"However, should Master doubt the plan itself... it is not too late for a retreat yet," Snowy put an offer forward, trying to offset her earlier, more rigid stance.

"Because these chances are literally just dropping our way," Lyra snorted with a generous amount of eye-rolling. "You've also heard AJ say how her mortgage bothered her. It'd be a sin to waste such a golden opportunity."

"Actually, I'm fairly sure these chances were literally jumping at us. We have never asked anypony for their troubles yet were told anyway," Snowy squinted at her master. She was returning to business as usual; worry tinted her tone and there was a tinge of uneasiness in her gaze. "I don't mean to complain, but that openness... almost feels a little suspicious, Master."

"Pff. Shows what you know," Lyra flashed a smug grin, careful that nopony around her would notice the blink-and-miss grimace. "Of course we would hear complaints. If there's anything ponies love doing, it's complaining. We complain about everything - it's like our national past-time! Leave worrying to when you hear the townsfolk discuss how everything was the best ever."

"Sounds counter-intuitive. However, if Master decrees it to be so then it has to be," Snowy nodded solemnly.

Her head bobbing low as a result of her limping movement, Lyra's nostrils flared wide and her teeth ground against each other. Snowy's unconditional reverence irked her to no ends; the feeling greatly exacerbated by them being in the open street, as she couldn't retort appropriately. Bottling her problems up had never been her greatest asset.

"Anyway, we need to give this a shot. Doesn't matter which case we use as a test run, right?" she whispered once she felt like having had gotten a shred of her composure back. She wasn't at her best yet; her tone was low and uneven, her emotions obviously bleeding into the hues of her speech. "Just why do you fuss so much anyway? You got me to go to the bank, despite my belief of how we should be looking for somepony who knows their stuff about cheese. Don't you want to be vindicated, you-"

The sentence was cut in half; a random passer-by had wandered too close to Lyra and she didn't want to take risks. She pursed her lips up and produced a small, token bow; but the other pony hadn't paid any attention to her and marched on, disappearing from her vicinity the next moment.

Close, she mused as she blew out a lungful of hot air. Way too close. I'm totally going to blow my cover if I keep chattering like this.

"I have no need for vain achievements such as being proven right," Snowy flatly declared. She wasn't looking at her master; her crimson gaze was glued to the large, brown building two intersections down from them. "I only possess purpose as long as I can help Master achieve her goals. That is my sole vindication... and to be honest, I would rather do so without having to prove Master wrong. If possible."

You're totally getting on my nerves, Lyra narrowed her eyes to two thin slits. I wonder what would happen if I told you to quit thinking like that?

Getting out of an earth pony's way as she limped towards the brown building, Lyra put that idea onto her mental shelf. She couldn't readily tell how Snowy would react to such a wish; she might just break the windigo for all she knew. She couldn't afford such a blunder so early. She needed to have something she could show; something to prove how the windigo was safe - and actually desirable - to be around. Anything else risky had to wait.

Well, we'll get there. Eventually, she tried to calm herself. She couldn't help but want the end result right away; not even understanding how that wasn't smart nor possible deterred her impatient mind from the wish. Stay smart, girl; one step at a time. As long as you can keep putting this amnesia-ability towards the cause of the Greater Good, everything should work out fine. Just always clear the most immediate obstacle...

Glancing up at the brown building - the letters BANK now visible on the side - Lyra made a trembling smile. Her mind slowed down, her thoughts retreating as they yielded space to a shapeless mist of anxiety. Snowy's odd behaviour no longer held her interest; she was worried silly even without thinking about that. She was still an intersection away from entering the bank, yet was already breaking into shivers and cold sweat.

Well, here goes nothing. Ah, I mean... positive thoughts! she gulped dryly and giggled. Every piece of her was tingling with nervousness; and that was precisely the sensation she was trying to reign in. I'm sure everything will go just fine! What's the worst that could happen?

---

The hinges groaned as the heavy piece of wood rotated around them. The door swung open with much gusto; almost too much, in fact. Lyra had only managed to catch it in the very last moment, her magic grinding the door to a halt a mere inch from the wall. She paid the stationary piece of wood a worried glance and sighed under her nose; that was close. She hadn't really cared before, but she definitely did not feel like making a grand entrance this once. She would have preferred to stay as invisible as possible; blend into the background, so to say.

As much as a cyan unicorn could blend into a dominantly dark-brown room anyway.

You better be right on this, she frowned and glanced behind her back. The same magic she had used to stop the door now swung in the other way. The entrance closed with a bang; but not before a translucent creature sneaked its way inside. It must have been her general anxiety, but Lyra was no longer so happy to see the windigo trailing her.

You're a dead-digo if you're making a fool out of me! I mean - okay, I have no idea how I'm going to do that. But I'm pretty sure I'll find a way!

Still, idle threats were not what Lyra had sought in the bank. So she grumbled silently and headed towards a counter, expectant and thoroughly wary of the tough conversation to follow. She didn't have the faintest idea about economics and mortgages and the like; she was wading through hostile waters, no doubt about it. It was only by Snowy's unwavering egging that she had changed her mind and gone to a bank.

I wonder why this struck me as a good idea, Lyra flexed the muscles on her face, growling to herself internally. This is so going to be my fault if we screw up.

The inside of the bank was classy and quiet, like usual. Another pony was talking to a teller at a counter; the conversation low-toned and more akin to whispering. Only the subtle movements of their ears and the bobbing of their heads tipped Lyra off that those two were actually doing something.

The other three counters were empty; bored tellers were waiting for customers in their open-ended cubicles. Intentionally keeping her pace slow to make her limping less pronounced, Lyra eyed the bankers carefully. She then decided on the one she absolutely couldn't recall from before.

While she hadn't been to the bank frequently by any means, she had visited the place before. Quite a few of her jobs had been paid in the form of cheques which she had to cash in afterwards; so she couldn't rule out that some of the ponies working there would recognize her face. If she were going to ask around about mortgages and the whatnot, she would have rather done so with somepony who hadn't talked to her beforehoof. She wanted to avoid anypony who knew that Lyra Heartstrings had nothing to do with the dealings of apple-farmers.

With that having been said, there was still a chance of the tellers recognizing her from a performance... but she had live with that risk.

Ehh, it's not like anypony had recognized me so far, Lyra frowned wryly, enjoying her predicament for the very first time in her life. She forced herself into walking on all fours and made her way to the chosen teller with determined, if a bit wobbly steps. She then waited to be noticed... and waited... and waited some more... and then cleared her throat.

The teller - a yellow pegasus with large, oval glasses and a short, brown-red mane - shuddered as if he underwent a passing neurotic episode. He flared his wings and promptly swatted them against the sides of his cubicle, filling the small room with scraping sounds and torn yellow feathers. The sudden movement also threw his glasses off, the fragile piece of equipment dangling precariously off the tip of his nose.

Whoa, Lyra's eyes widened in an honest-to-Celestia shock. This bloke is even worse off than I am!

"Astounding," Snowy took her usual spot at her master's side. "That pony is even worse off than Master."

Oi! Why is this the ONLY thing we're on the same wavelength with?! Lyra shot a short glance to her side, her smile noticeably faded. And just why are you so smug about it anyway? Seriously, can't you wonder just whose fault THAT is? I used to be a perfectly sane and happy pony before I had bumped into you!

That was what she had wanted to believe anyway.

"Ah- ah! I'm terribly sorry about that, miss," the teller giggled nervously. He adjusted his glasses with a shaky hoof, pushing them back up his muzzle. "I was, uh, so busy with my daily tasks that I had barely noticed you arrive. Ah, er... I'm Lickety Splits, and I appear to be helping you today! So how may I help you?"

You're a terrible liar, Lyra groaned internally. Not a single one of those statements sounded even remotely believable.

"Master must be relieved!" Snowy nodded, her cheery voice full with self-satisfaction. "Compared to the greatness that is Master, this poor fellow stands no chance in the art of deceit. Master's victory is assured!"

You're absolutely terrible at telling truths! Lyra despaired, strictly internally of course. She had also made a quick resolve to give the windigo a prep talk on how they were the heroines and not some evil duo.

Only once she was through with this whole ordeal of hers, though.

"A nice day, mister Splits," she greeted the teller in the most neutral tone she could muster. She was planning on sounding upbeat - but even her fake smile had begun wearing thin at that point. "I am L. H. Strings."

"L. H. Strings..." the teller squinted in the cover of his glasses.

Please don't turn out to be smart all of a sudden, Lyra gulped, fat drops of sweat rolling down the side of her neck. It was a pretty transparent trick, she understood that much; but she respected the authority of the Equestrian Royal Bank, so she didn't want to lie. Not too badly, anyway; not about things she might be called out on. For example, L. H.Strings would pass muster if she had to produce her ID. It was a really minimal risk alias - as long as the teller didn't recognize the pony behind the paper thin guise.

"Sorry - I didn't mean to unnerve you!" the teller laughed anxiously. He must have had some doubts lingering in the back of his conscious, that much was obvious; but he didn't dare act on them, the humiliating beginning of the conversation still fresh in his mind. "So, miss Strings... how may I be of help?"

"Well, aren't you a well-mannered pony! I like that," Lyra cooed and deepened her smile notch.

The compliment had an immediate effect on the teller; the pegasus let up visibly. That, in turn, only served to make Lyra's smile all the more natural. She was on the good track.

"I've come to your establishment because I was... er..."

Her act fell apart a little at that point, her voice trailing off. She was desperately searching for a word; she knew she had remembered it just a few moments ago. It was on the tip of her tongue still...

Argh! Lyra bit onto her lip, as overtly as she could. Come on, girl - say something! Anything! You need to appear confident or he'll start asking questions!

"...because I was hired by one certain... AJ," she carried on. She couldn't remember that apple-farmer's full name, so she just rolled with the nickname she did recall. It wasn't much, but it offered her some breathing room.

Oh sweet Celestia, I really should have prepared better, she chided herself as she scrambled to work out the details of her story. She hadn't gotten very far with that during her walk down the streets.

"Ah, yes. Miss Applejack's one of our more prominent clients," the teller made a small nod. He appeared to have completely cooled down; his answer was impeccably calm and reserved. "It is strange for her to operate via proxy, though. She has preferred seeing to her matters in person before."

"Ah, well... she asked me so she could, uh... attend to her business in the market," Lyra motioned at the random direction she hoped the market was in. "It's not a big deal, so she would rather keep selling her apples unbothered."

The teller frowned and glanced upwards. He mused for a few moments; a few tense moments for which Lyra didn't dare as much as breath.

"Makes sense," the teller finally shrugged and turned back to Lyra.

Heck yea'! Who's the best actress? I'm the best actress! Lyra opened the champagne bottles inside her head. Behold my wits and tremble! I'm the queen of improv!

"So what is the small business that needs to be taken care of?" the teller raised his eyebrows.

That fairly logical question put an end to Lyra's short-lived parade. She had absolutely forgotten to think up what she would ask for.

---

Uh-oh, Lyra glanced around nervously. Her nerves were ready to crack; the sounds became distant and her sweat felt chilly all of a sudden. Think of something. Quickly! Before he realizes you're just messing with him!

While she hadn't done anything steeper than an inconsequential lie so far, she would have really preferred not tarnishing her own name. Anxiety and creativity were never good friends though; the possible ideas escaped her farther and farther as the seconds lurched on, her brain mired in the bleak possibilities that her failure was to bring. The dark-brown colours around her faded as the whole bank fell into dead silence; only the steady thumping of her own veins reached her.

He knows. He has to know! Which means I'm going to get caught, Lyra made a toothy, mad smile as the only possible conclusion had dawned on her. I haven't even done anything yet, but I'm already caught. Aaah, I knew it - I'm useless at this. Why did I even think this was going to be a good idea? Why hadn't anypony stopped me?

"Miss Strings?" the teller tried reaching out to her. His head was tilted to the side, open curiosity glittering in his green eyes.

He had inadvertently saved the musician with that question. Lyra's focus returned to the world, the vicious cycle inside in her head broken. A shallow wave of relief washed over her; the teller wasn't suspecting a thing. Not yet.

"Business... yes, pretty small..." Lyra mumbled as she squeezed all the air out of her lungs. She affixed her stare to the old desk that had separated her from the teller, her eyes glassy and vacant. She was about to say something monumentally stupid, she was sure of it. That fact had bothered her the most; but even so, she had no choice but go ahead. She couldn't afford to remain silent any longer. "AJ has some problem with... well, cheese..."

"Cheese," the teller raised his left eyebrow and perked his right ear. He didn't say anything else - he simply echoed the singular word that had confused him so much.

"Ah- ah! Master, have our plans changed? I thought Master came here to battle the great evils of institutionalized finance, one pony at a time!" Snowy rushed forward. She leapt over Lyra and landed halfway between her master and the teller, her see-through figure partially obscuring the bank employee.

Try to read the situation, you dumb ghost! Of course I'm trying to do that! I'm struggling right in front of you! Lyra pursed her lips up and wished her servant could just read her mind. It was maddening how she couldn't answer... not even ask for help.

She really, really needed a kind of sign language she could use with the windigo. Too bad she had never had the time - or the forethought - to develop anything such. She could only use her voice to communicate - something which everypony around her could hear as well.

"Ahaha, did I really say cheese? I meant to say... cheap! Yes, the proper word was cheap," Lyra uttered the only word she knew in regards to finance and burst into a nervous laughter. She held a hoof to her neck as she laughed and reared her head back; that moved the ghost into the middle of her gaze. She then winked; two times, no less. That was also the limit of her options; she couldn't do anything more, lest the teller caught notice.

"Ooh, I get it! Master is not familiar with this topic," Snowy slapped herself on the head. A smirk appeared on her ghostly visage, and her tone gained a badly hidden hue of pride. "Well, I suppose I get to show off my expertise! Not a moment too soon either. Ahem, Master, if I may..."

Snowy cleared her throat and threw herself onto the dark-brown wood, her eyes almost level with Lyra's.

"Master, repeat after me: our client believes the revision of the mortgage contract would be timely."

"You see, the mortgage contract needs uhh... time to be... revised," Lyra forwarded the sentence as properly as she could. It was really hard, acting under stress; especially with words she didn't understand the meaning of.

She ran her tongue down her lips; she found them to be as dry as a sandpit, the skin ready to flake off on a moment's notice. She had no idea why, but that insignificant detail surprised her a great deal. She hadn't talked that much, after all. She felt like asking for a glass of water, but was way too nervous to even think about uttering such a banal request. Her cover had already been falling apart; there was no need to compound the damage.

The teller looked pretty unsold on Snowy's ad-lib line. He scratched his chin, then sighed and repeated the same motion a little higher, near the base of his left ear. Lyra couldn't help but notice how his movements were slow and deliberate; a little too calculatedly so.

He's onto us, she gulped dryly. The dryness annoyed her greatly; she wanted to keep her act up, but the need for water began seeping into every thought of hers. She had no idea at the time, but she was nearing the point where she would break and freak out; her nerves had begun to snap, like the overstrung strings of a musical instrument.

"That is a surprise. I believed Miss Applejack had been satisfied with the terms so far," the teller finally raised his gaze, the cut-crystal panels glittering before his green eyes. "So am I right to understand: your arrival here serves as a kind of notice?"

Lyra wasn't sure how to rank that reply. A wave of light shudder ran down her spine anyway; she was relieved to see the teller having had bought into her paper-thin story. Understanding how that feat had come to pass was purely optional.

"It is only natural our client would prefer a periodic revision of the terms," Snowy mused out loud, her stare unfocused. She was recalling words she had heard very long ago no doubt; days that had been lost to the distant past. "The terms of the contract should reflect on the changing political climate, after all."

He- heavy! I still can't understand a word from that! Lyra blinked at the barrage of unfriendly phrases thrown at her. She held a moment's pause, hoping that Snowy would either repeat or offer an alternative; alas, the windigo only nodded at her master encouragingly. That would have been an awfully kind notion, had Lyra not felt as if she was being prodded into a forced march. There was no retreat, however; so she ran her tongue down her lips, made another note how dry her skin felt, then began talking.

"The climate is, ah, you know... changing, right? So it's only natural that we would reflect on... that," she spoke, absolute in the belief that she had mangled Snowy's overly elaborate message.

"Hmm. I did hear some whispers that our good Major would prefer to have the rain schedules revamped," the teller frowned and adjusted his glasses a tiny bit. "That would indeed carry some significant changes to the rentability of an agricultural enterprise."

Lyra stared vacantly at the yellow pegasus. She couldn't understand how the reply connected to what she had said - though then again, she didn't understand what she had said either.

"Agriculture... hmm. Hmm! Dangerous area. One almost outside of my expertise. Old Master's estate had little in the way of farmlands, but his subjects needed nourishment - so he had rented a few in the south," Snowy mused to herself. She jammed a hoof into the base of her translucent muzzle, lifting her entire head upwards a notch. "I suppose a reasonable answer would go like... for this reason we would need to take a look at the exact scheduling of payments and the late fees, taking the predicted average crop yields and the possible seasonal variations into account."

Reasonable! Lyra scoffed internally at the adjective. She felt so dumb, she could have sworn she had a black hole developing where her brain used to be. She would have been annoyed were the feeling not numbing her at the same time; the absolute lack of ideas had begun calming her. She was an instrument, nothing more; her fate was in the hooves of Snowy and the bank teller. There was no use in getting worked up over something outside her control.

"Indeed. So we should, er... take a look at the schedules. And payments. And uh... the fees," she stuttered, the image of a broken gramophone popping into her mind. "You know, work out the stuff like what the, err, average crop is going to be. Or what the next season's gonna' be like. Details about the... er... stuff she's always on about... those crops? I mean, always those apples!"

Why did that sound so wrong? Did I muck up just now?

With great effort, Lyra subdued her building frown and maintained her indifferent grimace.

I think I mucked up. There's no way he didn't notice how I have no idea what I'm trying to parrot.

"Ha! Apples! Oh yes, do I know about that obsession!" the teller snickered. That turned into an outright giggle; the glasses rocked around and travelled down his muzzle. "She had tried to sell me a few during our last meeting. It's an admirable form of madness, though; it's rare to see such a dedicated pony nowadays."

"Haaa... yes, very dedicated," Lyra nodded absent-mindedly. She was distracted by her success; it came as a true surprise.

"Master is doing most excellent," Snowy winked at the sweating musician. "Now the paperwork is all that's left!"

Lyra cocked her head to the side. An innocent - inconsequential - motion for an outside spectator; but a clear sign to the ghost that had trailed her.

Eh? Paperwork? Say what?

"Now is the time to ask for a review of the actual contract papers," Snowy stressed. She talked hastily; her master couldn't wait too long for the explanations. The chat between Lyra and the teller wasn't exactly fast paced, but it didn't leave space for minutes' long silences either. "If Master still wishes to use my powers to fix that mortgage, that is."

Ah- ah, right. We came to clean that thing up, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and gave her temple a light scratch. Why all this needless and confusing talk, though? Why couldn't I just make everypony forget about it? Why do I need to see the papers first? Maybe Snowy needs them to zero in on the memory...?

There was no use in overthinking, though. She may have been the Master, but then and there, she was only a fake who carried out a windigo's orders. Snowy had the ability to solve the problem; and it was also Snowy who had been savvy enough to keep their act believable.

Wait, what?

As soon as she became consciously aware of it, the realization struck Lyra's head with the gentleness of a hundred-pound mason hammer.

Wasn't this ghost like, completely amnesiac? To the point of not knowing a thing about her own self? Then how does she remember all this nuanced stuff about banks and mortgages and whatnot?

She blinked at the windigo. Curiosity and doubt mixed in her gaze; doubts both about Snowy's story and her own willingness to mistrust the servant who had so readily helped her.

Lyra cut that musing short with a rapid shake of her head. Even if there was an appropriate place for such doubts, the bank was certainly not it.

"Well, now you get my case," she turned her attention back to the teller. "Could I ask for the actual mortgage... thing? I would like to give it a glance. Real quicksie, I promise!"

"Hmm. Well, seeing how you act as Miss Applejack's proxy... I see no reason to deny the request," the yellow pegasus pushed his glasses back to the base of his nose. "However, I need to make sure you understand this is private information. This is for your eyes only - you may not take it with yourself, nor make copies of it."

Lyra cautiously glanced to her side; but all she saw was Snowy making a hearty nod.

"But of course," she smiled as pleasantly as her nerves allowed. "No need to remind me!"

The teller smirked at the perceived professionalism, then backed out of the cubicle.

"Give me a second, then."

---

Lyra was left alone in the empty cubicle. The yellow pegasus was gone and the office was silent; only the hushed conversations of the nearby clients lingered in the air, but they were going on about their business rather quietly. As far as Lyra cared, that was silence. Deafening silence, in fact.

"We made it," she whispered to herself. Relief washed through her whole being, the raw emotion so intense that she had become disoriented for a moment. "We really did it...!"

"Unless he had tricked us and only went away to alarm the authorities," Snowy mused and began moving. She got up as a cat would have had; her legs resting under her head as her back arching upwards.

That idle comment was enough to plunge Lyra back into the abyss of anxiety; but the windigo carried on before her master could truly succumb to panic.

"I'm confident he didn't play such a vile game, though. He didn't look like the kind."

A hoof pressed firmly against the base of her neck, Lyra exhaled loudly.

Could you start reading the mood already?! Stop scaring me like that, you stupid ghost!

She didn't let a single shred of berating leave her mouth, though. She simply squinted hard at the windigo instead. She wanted to ask the question that had been bothering her; it was more important than the mini heart-attacks she had received.

"How did you fool that bloke so easily? I thought you were amnesiac."

"Ah, well... I suppose I have old Master to thanks for that," Snowy chirped and looked away with a prideful smirk. "I had spent quite the many days and nights listening to the evil workings of finance... both in the forms of monologues and duets with lawyers."

"Really? And you can recall those bouts?" Lyra balked in complete honesty. She had also overheard many discussions between managers, but she couldn't for the love of her life remember a word from those. "Actually, wait, let me rephrase that. You can recall that stuff so clearly that you could fool another pony with it?"

Biting her lip nervously and glancing around in a hurry, Lyra double-checked if anypony could have overheard that. It wasn't a smart thing to do, announcing how she had just fooled a bank employee... while still sitting in the same bank. In the same cubicle too, no less.

Think before you talk!

That was no longer a gentle reminder to herself. She was smacking herself over the head with the biggest piece of club she could imagine. Purely mentally, of course. The method was unlikely to help, but had appeased her need for retribution quite splendidly.

"Despite the spotty nature of my memories, I'm a rather quick learner if I do say so myself," Snowy curled her lips into a smile. She had an unnaturally perfect row of sharp, shark-like teeth. "I can remember most things even after the very first sight."

"Ha! Fancy. You're not doing a splendid job at hanging onto those memories though..." Lyra groaned. She closed her eyes and shifted backwards, sitting down. Momentum dragged her head backwards as well, so she took a momentary rest with her nose pointing at the ceiling. Somepony in the adjacent cubicle was going on about a personal loan; numbers and percentages filled Lyra's ears. None of that found its way to her thoughts, however. She had been preoccupied with more important matters.

Le sigh. Seems I got myself one heck of a complicated ghostie. Seriously, how can you remember everything and be so forgetful at the same time?

That was something she would really need to look into... somewhere down the line.

"Master," Snowy alarmed her, giving the pony just enough time for her to assume a more appropriate stance.

"Miss Strings!"

The teller burst into the scene just as Lyra yanked her head downwards; her mane was still wobbling by the side of her head. She accented the slightly awkward sight with glittering eyes and a warm smile; her fairly ineffective attempt at looking intent. That was her best; she couldn't for the love of her life manage acting professional.

"I have good news," the teller carried on as he settled back into his previous spot, at the other end of the cubicle. His tone hadn't changed an iota; even if he had picked up on Lyra's eccentric behaviour, he sure hadn't given much thought to the suspicion.

"I'm all ears," Lyra perked said parts of her body.

"I have managed to dig up the documents you requested," the teller stated. He turned his head back to the saddlebag on his side and dragged the bag to between him and Lyra.

Whoa, Lyra blinked at how the fabric stretched. That looks heavy. Is he really going to throw all that junk at me?

She had been expecting a single sheet of paper - or something of that magnitude. So it was only natural for her to be surprised when a thick dossier landed in front of her, the many dozen - if not hundreds - of pages making a loud thud as they came to a stop.

Then came an odd, nagging feeling that Lyra was - sadly - familiar with.

I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to do with this, she realized - and promptly became leery of the organized heap of papers.

"This is the complete documentation of the financial service between us and Miss Applejack," the teller put a hoof onto the dossier. He gave it a gentle push, and the blue container slid over to Lyra. "How much time will you require for this review? Should it take over thirty minutes, we have a more private room available."

Lyra opened her mouth, left it hanging open, then closed it without saying anything in-between. She was at a complete loss at what she had been supposed to do with all those papers. The only use she could imagine was starting a small campfire and breaking out some tasty marshmallows - but she was pretty sure that none of those boring bankers would appreciate such display of creativity.

Uuhhh...

She turned her head ever so slightly, sneaking a questioning glance to the windigo.

A little help? Wasn't it you who had asked me to fetch all this?

"Fear not, Master. Open the papers," Snowy poked a hoof through the dossier; she had either forgotten how she was a ghost or was just prodding her master in inventive ways. "We need to make sure this is the contract we are interested in."

Ah-ha. So we're being cautious, smart and... well, maybe professional, Lyra grimaced and flipped the cover of the dossier open. A decidedly angry-looking page greeted her - one that was cramped full with printed letters, the black soup of ink only broken up by a few empty spaces. Those empty spaces were, in turn, filled with scribbles of blue ink instead.

Whoa! Lyra reared her head back. This is like, dense! Very dense!

She wasn't prepared to digest so much at once. She braved the wall of text anyway, and started skimming through the page. She figured the text must have been some sort of a form; she couldn't imagine anypony sitting down and typing that much every single time a new contract was made. Her attention was thusly focused to the blue inked parts instead - those which didn't look part of the boilerplate legalese.

Applejack... Equestrian Royal Bank... Sweet Apple Acres... fixed-interest loan for the amount of...

She stopped reading at that point. She blinked lazily, then rubbed her eyes with a hoof; first the right, then the left. A few green dots danced in front of her, but she ignored them; she needed her gaze back on the paper, pronto.

For the amount of... WHA-HA-HAAAT?

It was no mirage; the digits were real and firmly on the paper. Lyra could understand the number; she could even comprehend what it was representing. Which was part of her problem, admittedly.

There were a lot of zeroes there.

There was simply no way she could believe that a singular pony - especially a farmer! - could get access to such a ridiculous sum.

"Sweet pony princess! This is more than I have ever made in my entire life," she whispered to herself, her amber eyes moving back and forth the numerous round digits. "Scratch that, this is more than I've made in my last dozen lives combined..."

Just what the heck is that apple-farmer doing with all this money? Does she take swimming lessons in gold or what?!

"Is there a problem?"

The question came from the teller; the pegasus was eyeing Lyra with a curious look. He couldn't have heard the faint whispers - but he must have seen how Lyra was talking to herself.

"Ah, er, no problems!" Lyra waved a hoof at the bank employee. "No- nothing at all, haha! I was just, uh..."

"Master should make a quick note on that contract," Snowy advised. "Something that would remind Master to take it with herself."

Lyra burst into a nervous laughter and scratched the back of her neck. It was hard to come up with a reasonable excuse on her own; doubly so when she couldn't make sense of the contradicting orders she had to work with.

Weren't we told we're not allowed to take this with us?

That was only what the bank employee had said, though. And if she had to pick a side, she knew she would choose Snowy; no doubts there.

"I was just, uh, looking at the... formalities," Lyra resumed her statement, looking the teller in the eyes. "I think there's some issue with the... address here."

"That's impossible," the teller gasped and reached for the dossier. "This was triple-checked before signing!"

"Even so, I have a funny feeling about it," Lyra giggled. Her horn lit up; her magic aura grabbed a pencil from the teller's side, the small tool floating to the dossier she had open. "I'm just going to make a non-permanent mark here. Just so, you know, I can remember which part to revise..."

"Ah- wait! You can't just write into that thing!" the teller yelped and reached out in earnest urgency.

He wasn't even halfway there before Lyra had finished scribbling the small note, however.

"Okay! Snowy - do your stuff," Lyra murmured under her nose.

Already prepared, the windigo didn't need a second order.

---

The sensation wasn't like before. Lyra could remember their games in the morning, with the magazines; Snowy would simply shine brightly and that was all there is to it. A magic trick; a simple sleight of mind.

This once, however, Lyra felt as if she had met a sledgehammer on the business end.

She lost her balance; were she not sitting already, she would surely have fallen. The loss of balance wasn't the only effect either. A wave of nausea washed over her; she clenched her teeth in reflex, doubtful over the appropriateness of throwing up in a bank. She staggered forward, towards the open dossier...

...and then the illnesses plaguing her were gone. She was still panting and wheezing, yes; her heart was still racing, her breathing was still fast and shallow; but those were all just after-effects, caused by her body having been in a state of alert. She felt a lot better already, and was actually calming down rapidly.

Huh, she put a shaking hoof to her temple. What was this just now? Am I falling sick, or what? Did Snowy make a mistake?

Furrowing her eyebrows and squinting hard, Lyra looked up.

Snowy was fading, her colours returning to their natural intensity; she wasn't doing anything else thought. She lay motionlessly on the panel that separated the cubicle into two.

The teller was also paralysed; he was holding a hoof in the air, mid-way between himself and Lyra. He seemed to be at a loss why he had been doing so, though. He stared back at Lyra with a completely puzzled expression.

"Huh," he finally retracted his hoof, giving the limb a thoughtful stare. "This is... most strange. What... what were we talking about just now?"

"I, er... have no idea?" Lyra giggled nervously.

That was a lie, of course. She had immediately figured out that she had just seen Snowy in effect; but even so, she couldn't really tell just what had happened. She glanced around quickly, looking for something that could clue her in... and amidst her mad dash for help, her gaze wandered over the open dossier in front of her. It looked like a stereotypical legal document... apart from the scribble near the middle of the page.

SHUT UP. TAKE THIS HOME.

I don't think I like the tone I'm hitting with myself, Lyra groaned. It wasn't difficult for her to recognize her own writing. Still, instructions were instructions; and who were she to disobey her own self?

"Ah... I am most sorry about this, Miss Strings. I have no idea what came over me," the teller apologized. He was obviously in discomfort; he scratched the side of his head, his hoof digging wide trenches into this red mane. "I, uh..."

"Don't sweat it," Lyra waved a hoof and laughed the issue away. She slammed the dossier closed and had it float up, right next to her head. "You've already helped me a great deal. I'll look over this... draft and let you know if it fits me."

"Draft?" the teller balked, looking more and more confused by the moment. "We were working on a draft? Pray tell, what was the topic?"

"Ease up, dude," Lyra winked at the confused pegasus. "You've done me a great service today! I'm sure you've also helped at least one other pony too, so... just look forward hearing of me again, hee-hee!"

She turned around and left the cubicle. The thoughts in her head were in stark contrast to her calm exterior; she was half expecting the teller to call the guards. Nothing such came to pass, however. She crossed the bank office undisturbed and walked out the door, a floating dossier and the windigo in tow.

"Whelp!" she took a deep breath once she had stepped outside. "This was... interesting, right, Snowy?"

"Quite unusual indeed."

Forgetting to even breathe, Lyra froze in place. That wasn't the windigo - she knew that voice. She could recognize it anywhere, any time. She turned her head to the right with slow, jittery movements - right towards the green robed pony approaching her.

"You're the first player using my powers to rob a bank," the green robed stranger cackled. "So surely you would agree this warrants a little chat... right?"

Comments

[Shadow-silver]

Well. I wonder how this will end?