Trouble. It follows me around like an unwanted pet. The kind of pet liable to maul my friends' faces. So I tried to face the demon alone. But no one can face life alone and my friends... They're less fragile than I gave them credit for.
Trouble. It follows me around like an unwanted pet. The kind of pet liable to maul my friends’ faces.
From a random stalker to illicit organizations to long-lasting feuds, I tried to face them alone. But life is give and take and no one can go it alone.
This is the tale of a foolish young mare, her friends and how nothing could break their bonds.
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Interested in seeing things from Night's perspective? Check out Mending Light, Invidlord's contribution to our collaboration.
Due to taking place in the same universe as Evil's Twilight, this story only uses canon up to and not including the season 3 finale.
I first noticed him at the meeting for the first winter's fall. No, that's not quite right; that was when I first noticed him noticing me.
A moist, gritty scent—almost taste—hung in the air. The kind that makes a pony feel like it's slipping into her coat, between each of the hairs and sticking. But if she were to look for it, the grime would fail to materialize. Thankfully, such an uncomfortable combination was rare, typically only occurring when pegasi fighting wild Everfree rainstorms mingled with those tending to the dry, dusty weather within Ponyville.
With almost the entirety of the weather team sitting around the town hall's auditorium, the odds were not only high, but realized. Not that we were crowded or anything like that; if we had spread out, each of us could have stretched our wings without even touching each other. The smell was just that strong.
Rainbow Dash stood amongst a dozen diagrams, all of which were pinned to a few rollout corkboards. She had just finished her usual spiel: speeding through the plan followed by a long, blunt and somehow simultaneously vague motivational speech. Thankfully, the plan was pretty close to what we'd done last year, so few, if any, details were lost between the cracks.
We'd just started to mingle and I don't even remember what I said, just that I could feel his eyes turn. They pored over my charcoal coat and blue, tied-up mane, stopping momentarily on my teal scarf. And in that instant, that blue pegasus stallion, who normally spent every meeting—and that's if he even bothered to show up—hiding in the corner behind that large, brown cowlick, got my attention.
It was not Night Flurry, specifically, who set off my subconscious alarms. In fact, the only reason somepony as innocuous as he did so at all is because I made it my business to take an interest in those who took an interest in me.
Awareness was a skill that was constantly surprising me, demanding more and more effort as time went on. At first it was rote training, an aspect of my mother's regimen. Then it was practical, keeping an eye out for bad people as my merchant father plied his trade; apparently having just one guard makes someone a target. Too bad for them that that guard is my mother. Next, as I set out on my own, a lone mare on the road, it, and the wingblade hidden in my scarf, were the only things that had my back.
And yet, for all my supposed experience, I'd been unable to see that good deeds would not necessarily be reciprocated. Some people, especially those with immense reach, don't appreciate good intentions. They might even hold a grudge. Through my own folly, I found myself watching, extra aware of every person, analysing each move. For not everyone is who they appear to be and all it takes is one slip to cause an avalanche.
So I kept my eye on him, carefully meeting his gaze as I trotted toward the main doors. He seized up, looking like he was going to crumble under his own weight. He was either a good actor or easily impressed. Whatever the case, I'd need time to tell. I made a mental note to find out more about him.
---
He started following me around. It was weird, but so unsubtle that my gut leaned heavily toward a genuine crush. I had to wonder if he even knew my name was Dusky Down or if he was simply too busy fawning to think about that. To be honest, I wasn’t sure which was preferable.
My sources, a perk of being my father's daughter, came back quickly and without anything mind-blowing. Night Flurry was the typical Cloudsdale-born weather pony, with a side of falling-out-with-family. Despite his disposition, he made a go at joining the Guard, but dropped out soon after. I figured his enrollment might have had something to do with the family and that they weren’t too pleased with his giving up.
Following that, he moved to Ponyville to take the night shift, which was just about a guaranteed solo job in smaller towns. Given his extreme aversion to meetings, I suspected he saw the solitude as an advantage.
At first, I wasn't sure how I wanted to deal with him. Even assuming my information was all there was to him, firsthoof observation is always preferable. It was too soon to confront him and besides, I had more pressing matters on my mind.
Among the more mundane reports, I received word, yet again, that the situation around Pasture continued to stagnate. For as much scrutiny as the mayor was under, he certainly had a knack for maintaining the status quo. Long before I’d even met my friend, Ivory, the mayor had set his sights on her. He was a greedy stallion looking to off the kindest pony I know, and all because she was in his way. I always worried for her safety, which was a little weird, given that her magical power far surpassed my martial prowess. I guess it might have had to do with the fact that she often pulled her punches.
And while winter had simply begun, the season in general always stirred up memories. Memories of shouting against the howling wind. Memories of the chill, colder than ice, that touched my spine when I realized that Twilight Sparkle; the Winter Wrap Up lead, a heroine of Equestria and the mare I was supposed to be guiding, had vanished into thin air.
I still had nightmares; dreams of a mob’s blood-crazed eyes, of a snowy white void swallowing my friend whole, of the empty eyes of a possessed unicorn before she unleashed a torrent of lightning.
No, I could deal with him later. And perhaps his blustering around might even scare off any real stalkers.
My first thoughts of major reconsideration happened about a month later. I was taking the long way home, treading one of my favourite paths; not that anypony could tell the path was even there. A delicate blanket of fresh snow stretched over the hills and dirt road alike. The only reason I even knew I was on the path was because I’d walked it more times than I could remember. No matter the season, there was just something beautiful and serene about the landscape.
I padded along, taking in the sounds of the soft powder creaking underhoof, while the fresh scent of undisturbed snow drifted up to my nostrils. I have nothing against the city, given that they’re usually the targets of my travels, but sometimes nothing can beat a quiet walk through the countryside. I suppose one could say that it reminded me of the open road, a warm nostalgia that could stave off my wanderlust for just a little longer.
As my eyes slipped over each drift and crevice, they were drawn to a fuzzy, blue blot. It was half-embedded into the snow with not a single hoof print around. I looked up, squinting as the sun snuck through bits of the overcast sky to jab at my eyes. No one in sight. Of course, I knew he was probably somewhere up there. The cloud cover was just too convenient.
I sighed as I approached the object. If I had to wager a guess, it would have been that he had lost some sort of outdoor wear and was too shy to come down while I was still here. The only catch with my theory was that I couldn't remember him ever wearing anything of that sort.
That was when I noticed the little yellow tag, the part that wasn’t stuck in the snow reading ‘To Dus’. My mind froze, several long seconds inching by as it did a double-take. Once I’d recovered, I wanted to fly right up to him and ask just what he thought dropping a random gift in my path would accomplish.
But I didn’t. The rational side of my mind stepped in, saying that while he didn’t know me, neither did I know him. It was not so long ago that I’d judged Ivory without really knowing her—and nearly lost a potential friend forever. If I could get past my reservations with necromancy, surely shyness wouldn’t be a problem.
I looked up again and called up to the clouds. “Thank, you!”
No reply but the wind. I’d hoped the gesture would persuade him to come down for a proper talk, but perhaps it was too little, too soon.
With a short sigh, I tucked the earmuffs under my wing and resumed my walk.
I felt a smirk spread across my lips as I caught the tip of a brown cowlick poking out of the clouds.
I pushed my way through the doors of The Lusty Sea Pony. While I did not particularly like bars over, say, a nice clean diner, I had to acknowledge that it was a good place to find loose tongues. I’d also somehow managed to accumulate friends with a tendency to binge, which made going something of a social necessity.
The Sea Pony was a bit of an oddity, with its rosy-cheeked namesake calling out to sailors from the large, gaudy sign out front. This was because as far as I knew, the bar’s clientele consisted of exactly zero sailors. Not that I could blame the blushing seapony, though, as it wasn’t her fault she was stuck in a landlocked town. Sure, we had a river, but I had serious doubts that anything bigger than a canoe could fit in it.
I’d once questioned Barkeep on his decision and he’d simply shrugged and said, “I like sea ponies and this was the only place I had the bits for.”
And yes, Barkeep is what he goes by. I’d also once asked him if he had another name we could call him by, but he kept insisting that we use Barkeep. To be fair, given the kinds of names we Equestrians tend towards, that very well could have been his real name.
In any event, somehow, the Sea Pony hadn’t gone under. I suppose the sheer novelty of the theme, as well as being one of only two bars in the town, had something to do with it.
Tonight’s plan was to meet my friend, Terrabona, for the usual night of chatting and drinking away some stress. That is, she’d guzzle half a keg’s worth of whiskey, while I nursed a glass of cider. We always sat facing the door. Terra, so that she could call every new stallion hot and nudge me toward him. And me, so that I could assess everyone in general. Oh, and prepare to roll my eyes at the ‘Mistress of Matchmaking’.
As I stepped into the common area, I was bombarded by a dozen incoherent conversations, intermingled with the heavy scent of hay fries and alcohol. I made a quick scan of the crowd before letting my eyes drift over to our usual table.
To my surprise, I found our table occupied by not one, but two green unicorns. On my left, with the unruly red-orange mane, was Terra. If the giant grin on her face and the empty glasses were any indication, she was already on her third drink and more than a little tipsy. She waved her forehoof in that wobbly, off-kilter kind of way that always made me think of a giant noodle.
On the right was the newcomer, a taller, more muscular pony. Pale blue strands flowed down her neck, falling over her scaled barding, as well as half-concealing a pair of sheaths. While the blades were a possible cause for concern, the barding was the most eye-catching. The scales, each of which were painted to match her coat, looked less metallic and more like they came from the hide of something I couldn’t recognize. Whoever she was, she was a professional.
She seemed to be ignoring Terra entirely and didn’t even bother to acknowledge my approach. Instead, she chose to pore over a book that was easily as thick as an encyclopedia.
I kept an eye on the stranger as I slid up beside Terra. “Hi, Terra.”
“Hi, Dusky!” Terra’s grin widened.
“New friend?” I tilted my head toward the newcomer.
“Yeah! Let me introduce you! Starshadow, this is Dusky. She’s all serious like you. An’ Dusky, this is Starshadow. She’s like a Guard or somethin’.”
I was no expert, but if there was one thing I knew for certain: the Guard loves its flashy plate barding and uniforms. Whatever Starshadow was wearing was clearly custom. “Really? That doesn’t look like any Guard armour I’ve ever seen.”
“That is because I am not one of your Guard. I am a knight of Ostfriesen.” Starshadow didn’t even look up.
Ostfriesen…? The name took a moment to click, my mind hastily sifting through non-Equestrian geography. Wait a second, that’s a threeday flight to the east!
In the past, I’d hardly given the place any thought. With the surrounding badlands infested by some of the world’s most-hardened and dangerous monsters, it certainly wasn’t on my summer vacation list. But with somepony who was supposedly a real live denizen right there in front of me, my mind was suddenly very full of questions.
But she seemed less-than-talkative and pestering her was only likely to make her even less so. I’d have to get her to warm up to me first, and that was almost certain to be a difficult task. In the very least, somepony was making a trip to the library tomorrow.
I opened my mouth, but the creak of the Sea Pony’s doors pulled my attention away. In walked two familiar pegasi, the first being Mahogany, another one of my drinking buddies.
Despite his tendency of outdrink Terra, toned muscles gave shape to his rust-coloured coat, a testament to his fitness. He owed this, not to weather work, but to his job as a courier for the Equestrian Parcel Service. I think anypony would get that fit if they had to make long flights pulling many times their weight behind them.
The second, half-hiding behind Mahogany’s parcel cutie mark and the short grey tail behind that, was Night Flurry.
What the? Now there’s something I didn’t expect. I wonder how long until he has a meltdown.
Terra turned to me, not even attempting to whisper. “Oh! New hot stallion alert!”
“Terra, that’s Mahogany.”
“No, the other guy!” She pointed her hoof.
“That’s Night Flurry.”
“Oooooh, you know him!” Her grin grew and grew, until I thought she’d found a way to swallow her own muzzle.
“Not really, he’s just another pony on the weather team.”
“That’s even better!” Terra leaned her neck against mine as she got that far off look, the one that always told me she had one thing in mind: meddling.
I sighed, resisting the urge to push her away, lest she faceplant on the floor. “Terra, look. Just because I know his name and we’ve been in the same room together, it doesn’t mean we belong together. If that was the case, I’d be dating half of Ponyville. Besides, he doesn’t even like other ponies enough to show up for meetings.”
“So maybe he’s a little fixer-upp—”
“Don’t even start.” I shot a glare her way before raising a hoof to wave at Mahogany. He stopped just long enough to wave once before continuing toward the bar. He’d be back, of course; he just needed to get his first couple glasses of the night. While Night Flurry was practically glued to him, I somehow suspected it wasn’t because he wanted in on the whiskey.
Terra drummed her hooves on the table and leaned over to Starshadow, showing off more of her ‘discreetness’. “She’s a tough shell. Maybe she’s into maresh.”
I rolled my eyes, not because there was no truth in Terra’s words, but because she was so relentless about it. To be perfectly honest, a good physique, whether stallion or mare, will get my cheeks a little rosy.
The real reason was I just wasn’t interested in romance. Anyone who got close to me like that could become a target and that wouldn’t be fair. One might then argue for one night stands, but the very prospect of using someone like that makes me uncomfortable.
“Mmm, maybe I’m into maresh,” Terra said, breaking my reverie. She leaned forward, so close that she might as well be nuzzling Starshadow and started sniffing.
I blinked. Sure, drunk Terra could get flirty; in fact, that was practically a given on a night like this. But I’d never seen her be so forward and the whole hitting on other mares thing was new too. I found myself torn between amusement and confusion.
“Uh… Terra?”
“Have you been with maresh? I bet you have.” Terra not-whispered into Starshadow’s ear.
Starshadow spared her about two seconds for a sideways glance. “No.”
“Terra.”
“What?! You’re telling me a schexy thing like you never tried?!”
“No.”
“Aw, c’mon! Don’tcha wanna have shome fun?” Terra’s grin widened. “Jush one kiss?”
Starshadow turned so that she was almost muzzle-to-muzzle with Terra. A soft blue light played over both of their faces as Terra leaned forward… and stopped. Blue auras surrounded both Starshadow’s horn and Terra’s muzzle, keeping them separate.
A confused expression washed across Terra’s face, which, after a few moments of struggling, melted into a blank stare.
Eyes narrowing, Starshadow stood up and tilted her muzzle just enough to be looking down on Terra. “No.”
And with that, Starshadow returned to her book.
Despite all that, Terra continued to stare. I was about an inch away from facehoofing.
“Terra!”
“What?” She gave me a half-dazed look and I couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol or if she had actually been that smitten. I decided I didn’t really care.
Doing my best to keep a neutral expression, I spoke through gritted teeth. “Stop. Antagonizing. The armed pony.”
“Okay.”
I blinked again. Something about that was too easy. Usually, when she got focused on her whole matchmaking bit, she had to be dragged away, kicking and screaming. Granted, it was a rare occurrence for her to be the subject of her own meddling, especially with that level of intensity. I suppose I didn’t really know what to expect. Regardless, I kept watching Terra for several minutes, but she had become far more interested in her drink.
“Ladies!” Mahogany smiled as he took a seat, slamming his ‘Buzzard’ glass down in front of him. It’s a concoction of whiskey and whatever soda suits his fancy, a fact the straight-drinking Terra loved to rib him for. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t even enough liquid left to splash out the top. It was a bit of a shame, really; I missed the days when he would flail his head around, desperately trying to catch every droplet on his tongue. Granted, I wasn’t even sure why he did that, given that he had no qualms about licking it off the table.
“Gentlecolts.” I smirked. “Only one tonight?”
“Nah!” Mahogany turned to Night Flurry, shoving him up to the table with a wing. “I just got my best bud, Flurry, here to help me tonight!”
A pained look washed down Night Flurry’s face as he gingerly slid a second, dangerously-tilted glass onto the table. I really couldn’t help but feel sorry for him; the way he was shaking, I half-expected him to spend the rest of the night hiding under the table.
“Let me introduce you to my drinkin’ pals! This here’s Dusky, that’s Terrabona, an’... an’...” He pointed to each of us in turn, his hoof freezing at Starshadow. Lowering his hoof to the table, he leaned forward and squinted. Then before anyone could say anything, he snapped to. “Terra Number Two!”
I couldn’t help but snicker, waiting for Terra to take a jab at him, but it never came. Instead, she was locking lips with her glass. When Starshadow made no motion to assist, I turned back to Mahogany.
“That’s Starshadow, a newcomer and definitely far too sober to be a clone of Terra.”
“Huh. Well, nice to meet ya, Starshadow!” He extended a forehoof.
“Hi.” Starshadow looked up just long enough to give Mahogany a hurried hoofshake.
“Not too talkative, eh? How’dja even meet, anyway?”
I cast a glance at Terra, who was still muzzle-deep in her drink. “Terra was already getting all… friendly with her when I arrived.”
“An’ she wash jus’ here, sho I deshided to shay ‘hi!’” Terra threw her forelegs up and grinned.
“Haha, ‘kay! Well, this here’s Night Flurry, mah best bud! He’s new too!” Mahogany wrapped a foreleg around Night Flurry and pulled him close. Night cringed, shrinking under the sudden enthusiasm. I had a distinct feeling he’d never seen this side of Mahogany before.
Terra stared sadly at her empty glasses, seeming to forget that there was a bartender not more than ten feet behind her. I supposed she was reaching the point where even that was too much work. Her eyes drifted to the side, finding easier prey. Mahogany’s untouched glass started inching toward her.
With eyes wide, Mahogany brought his hoof down. “Noooo! Get your own!”
“C’mon! Can’sha share?” Terra fluttered her eyelids. I couldn’t quite put my hoof on it, but there was a strange… almost lack of enthusiasm behind it.
“No! Mine! Get your own!” Mahogany held the glass tight to his chest, nuzzling it like he would a foal. Or rather, like he would if he actually liked foals.
“Fine! Maybe I will!” With a whirl, Terra fell flat on her face. I rushed to help her up, ignoring her endless insistances of “I’m okay! I’m okay!”
Mahogany laughed as he trotted round to our side. “You sure you can even handle one more, Terra?”
“Shut up! I can and you know it!”
“Okay, okay. Just one more. I got this, Dusky. S’my turn, anyway.” And with that he braced Terra against him and guided her toward the bar.
“Grab me a cider while you’re at it!” I called after them. Mahogany waved a wing.
I took my seat back. Night was simply staring, having not moved the whole time and Starshadow, well, she didn’t seem to be affected by anything. Night Flurry shrunk away as I turned my gaze to him. I groaned inwardly as I looked to Starshadow instead, wondering if she’d somehow be more social.
“D-Dusky! Hi!” Night said, his voice modulating uncontrollably.
“Uh, hi.“
“I-I’m N-Night L—F-flurry!” He dug his hooves into the table and it trembled. It was a good thing he wasn’t heavier, otherwise he might have ended up with a compressed muzzle.
“So Mahogany said.”
“Haha, he did, didn’t he? Ha...” Night Flurry looked away, his ears wilting.
A frown slipped over my lips. I had serious doubts that we could carry on a conversation, at least if he was going to continue being so jittery.
“Sooo, Starshadow, you said you’re a knight, right?” I asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Night Flurry’s ears perk up and his eyes brighten. Perhaps I could get two birds with one stone.
“Mmmhmmm.”
“Do you mind if I ask about Ostfriesen?” I smiled, waiting for Starshadow to look up.
She stopped and stared, her eyes boring into me with a sort of dull disbelief.
“What?” I tilted my head as I felt my lips slip. Hopefully I hadn’t offended her.
“You are the first to ask further,” was her matter-of-fact response.
“I am?”
Starshadow nodded. “The ponies here always become silent and move on when I mention Ostfriesen.”
I felt the heat of embarrassment flood over my cheeks, even though I had had no hoof in her experience. “Oh, um… sorry about that. That’s not your fault. Towns this far in don’t do so well with foreigners.”
“And yet you ask.” It was Starshadow’s turn to tilt her head.
My smile returned and not entirely of my own will. “I’m a traveler. You might say visiting other places has left me more open-minded.”
“A traveler? Do you not wish to see it for yourself?”
“Of course, but… I’m afraid the wilds there would be a bit much for somepony like me.” I tapped the table with my hoof, hoping my admission wouldn’t ruin our conversation.
She looked me up and down, a chill creeping over my body wherever her eyes fell. I knew she wasn’t staring at me in that way, but I almost would have preferred a lewd look over such a cold appraisal.
“I suppose not,” Starshadow said at last. “What would you like to know?”
“Anything. I’ve only ever heard the name in passing.” I could feel the excitement rising in my chest. Knowledge that I never thought I’d have was suddenly within hoof’s reach. While it wasn’t firsthoof, as I often preferred, beggars can’t be choosers.
Starshadow stared at her book, though she wasn’t reading. Somewhere in the middle of that unrelated text, she was plotting a starting point. “Our country is led by Queen Papaya and her council, which is comprised of our most experienced knights.”
Night Flurry’s ears perked up again. The more I thought about it, the more I was starting to see another motivation for his enrolment in the Guard.
“Their chamber sits atop the Spire of Strength, a great stone tower in the centre of Castle Tapioca, our capital. The castle is named for Queen Tapioca, the first of the royal lineage. She is said to have taken on an Elder Wyrm in single combat and survived to tell the tale.”
Night Flurry’s jaw dropped. In truth, were someone able to see into my mind, they’d know I was just as taken aback. Aided by an inkling of skepticism, I kept my composure. Even among the few legends that reached Equestria, this sounded like a bit much.
“That’s quite the feat. Although, given what I’ve heard of the monsters in your region, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Are the creatures of the Everfree not comparable?” Starshadow fixed me with that hard stare again.
“Maybe? I don’t know. Few ponies go in willingly and even fewer choose to pick fights.” I resisted the urge to call them insane.
“I see. Then perhaps it is time that someponies did.”
I blinked and stared at Starshadow. “That’s… uh, very brave of you.”
“Bravery is part of our duty.” Her eyes returned to the book for a moment, though her voice did not falter in its conviction.
“Erm, right…” I suddenly felt even more out of my league.
A mug of cider plopped down in front of me and relief, as cool as the drink, washed over my face. While I still had many questions for Starshadow, the talk of heroics was beginning to weigh on me. Too many bad memories. I glanced over my shoulder in time to catch Mahogany and Terra’s return.
“Whew! Long line! Shtotally worth it, though!” Mahogany grinned as he lifted his wings and four more glasses clattered onto the table.
“Totally.” Terra trotted up beside me, swaying with each step.
“E-excuse me…” Night Flurry squeaked out as he backed away and headed for the bar.
I raised an eyebrow. “Where’s he going?”
“For a drink. I think.” Mahogany shrugged.
“He drinks?” I watched Night disappear into the crowd.
“Nah. Not yet, anyway. He goesh fer that tea junk. Yuck.” Mahogany made a face.
“That why you bought four more glasses?” Turning back to the others, my eyes drifted over the alcohol stockpile.
“Nah. Ish just fer Terra an’ me.” With a wide grin, Mahogany pointed to himself. Or rather, tried to: he was a few inches wide.
“Yeah!” Terra chimed in. “Anything he drinksh, I can too!”
I shook my head and stuck out my tongue. “Fine, but just so you know: under no circumstances am I carrying either of you home.”
The next day brought a strange collaboration with the previous night. I was called to the edge of the Everfree to help fight off a rogue cold front. While the temperatures were hardly deadly, they were still far less than the day’s allocated low. Plus it was good practice for when the wild blizzard clouds would inevitably try to move in.
I’d promised myself that I’d never let a storm like the Great Winter Wrap-Up Catastrophe happen again, even if I had to face it alone. Such… recklessness is always ill-advised, even against a controlled storm, but when letting it go was, historically, magnitudes worse, there isn’t much of a choice in the matter.
My logical side was always quick to remind me that I should never be in a situation like that again, that it was gone for good. The one with no name had been struck down by the Elements; Princess Celestia herself had assured us of its destruction. And yet, some part of me couldn’t quite believe, or perhaps it was that I feared there were more of… whatever that thing was, out there.
Oddly enough, I found my thoughts drifting toward something else. I was skirting the edge of one of the most dangerous places in Equestria; one that Starshadow seemed wholly unconcerned about not only entering, but fighting the denizens of. It’s not that I didn’t believe her. She definitely didn’t seem the type to blow hot air and that’s discounting the fact that something about her just exuded power.
But I’d also seen proof of their strength. I’d watched those small, demonic bugs nearly devour our town, all the while impervious to conventional attacks. I’d seen an angry astral bear, no smaller than a house, rampage through our town square. Any attempts to confront it directly only made it more pissed off. And then there were the evil… worm things. Sightless, growling, gnashing and seemingly endless, they’d swarmed through the streets.
That somepony wanted to fight things like those, and on their home turf, no less, was something I had difficulty wrapping my head around. But then again, I was no warrior, which was the fundamental difference between she and I.
The shift was short, but intense, with my thoughts driving me into a worker’s trance. Before I knew it, I’d already flown back to the weather office and logged my hours. Lingering sweat clung to the inside of my coat as I stepped out into the nearly vacant town hall.
As with most smaller towns, the office didn’t have its own building. Rather, the town hall had renovated a subsection of its rooms to suit the team’s administrative needs.
I turned my attention to the wall, where a small, colourful poster was pinned. I’d seen it on the way in, but decided to take care of business before giving it any attention. An ice sculpture of a mare sat inside a red and white tent, beckoning to passersby to play her games. In somewhat less vibrant lettering was the date, given for the weekend after the next, and the declaration of Fetlock Falls Winter Festival. I raised an eyebrow.
Ads for out-of-city events weren’t exactly uncommon, but Canterlot, with its sheer size and close proximity, tended to dominate the market. That a small town several hours to the north like Fetlock would bother putting up a poster over here was a bit odd.
The door creaked and I turned in time to see a large, green-blue pegasus mare emerge. Her mane alternated between a deep navy and a floral blue-purple, eventually combining to form a long, mish mashed braid. A pair of flight satchels sat on her back, each, bearing a vibrant blue S, adorned with snowflakes at the middle and ends. As the cutie mark drifted through my mind, her name stirred within my memory.
I’d only met Blizzard Breeze a couple times and only that much thanks to her and Mahogany being old weather college buddies. She only stopped in occasionally, always in a hurry to reach either Canterlot or Fetlock Falls. By now, I had little doubt as to who’d put that poster up.
“Hi, Dusky. Been a while, hasn’t it?” She flashed me a friendly smile.
I nodded. “Yeah. Finally sneaking in some personal time?”
“Maybe a little.” She prodded her bags with a wing. “I still have some posters to put up. Speaking of which, are you interested in the festival?”
“I was thinking about it. Been a little restless lately, so I was actually looking for an excuse to slip out of town for a weekend.” My mind silently added, Because of the laundry list of issues I’d like to forget for a day or two.
“Well, there you go. We’ve got a whole carnival set up, plus there’s even this big ice sculpting competition going on.” Blizzard flourished her forehooves. “Both of our inns are almost completely booked.”
I blinked, even knowing that inns in small towns aren’t particularly big; I had still clearly underestimated just how much of a buzz this event was generating. “Wow, going all out, aren’t you?”
“Yep. Once this puts Fetlock on the map, we should be able to get funding like this every year.” Blizzard grinned widely.
Well, that explains the pushiness. Ice sculptures aren’t really my thing, but it was a convenient enough opportunity to break things up a bit. Plus I didn’t really mind showing support for a friend of a friend. “In that case, you can definitely count me in.”
“Great." She clapped her forehooves together. "You taking the train?”
“I usually fly to these types of things.”
“Sure. But if you change your mind, we’ve got group discount rates at the Ponyville station both mornings and same thing for Fetlock at night.”
Quickly doing the math in my head, factoring the endurance saved, I guessed that I might be able to squeeze in another hour and a half of time with the festival if I took the train. I’d have to double check to make sure I had enough bits to cover such an indulgence, but it was definitely something to consider. Especially if I were to convince Terra to come with me.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
---
While my part-time schedule made my timing inconsistent, checking in on Terra at her store the day after a night of drinking had become something of a ritual. By the time I’d finished up my conversation with Blizzard and snuck home to inhale a quick tulip sandwich, the day had already reached mid-afternoon.
As I approached the store—a small hole-in-the-wall squeezed between a fast food deli and a watch shop—with the warmth of the sun at my back and the cold of the snow crunching beneath my hooves, I recalled our first encounter.
It was a day much like the current one, though my younger self was in much more of a hurry. I’d been planning my project, a small wooden chest, for a while. Ironically, it was likely that planning that made me give in so easily to whimsy. That morning, I’d decided I’d done enough design work and that that night was the night to build it. I’d already gotten my hooves on the necessary lumber, but no matter where I looked, I couldn’t find hinges or a hasp of small enough size.
The work day was on its last legs and I was about to give up and plan a shopping trip to Canterlot. And then I saw it. Terra’s Knickknacks, a hoof-painted sign read.
A wide front window, which barely left room for a door, gave me a pretty good view of the inside. Shelves and bins ran every which way, with only a minimum of floor space to access them from. The bins in the window had the most random of things, from a chair leg to the kind of tiny plastic figure that comes with board games to a steel bracket.
Sold on the idea of finding my misfit pieces inside, I’d nosed the door open. While I wouldn’t have described it as well-lit, I could hardly call it dingy, either. I remember trying to pore over each bin and shelf as I sought the store’s counter. The sheer volume and randomness of knickknacks had been staggering. If I had known Pinkie better at the time, I might have asked if she helped stock the store.
Despite the general helterskelter organization of Terra’s shop, those dusty bins and shelves had left me with a warm, comfortable feeling. I suppose it was like poking through the back of my dad’s wagon again. I’d almost expected to hear him call out, Dusky, find me that third era griffon throw rug.
Terra was never good at hiding her hangovers. While she always put significant effort into smoothing out her coat and mane, the veins spider-webbing over her eyes, as well as the bags underneath, betrayed her. There was a reason she had the counter installed in the furthest corner of the shop.
At first, I’d attributed her binging to the stress of being a business owner, but she really just likes whiskey a bit too much.
I remember our conversation starting just like any other store banter: greeting, small talk, inquiry. Then she found what I needed in less than a minute, darting here and there among the piles, as though it were a highly-organized inventory.
When I’d expressed my amazement, she’d grinned widely and pointed to the toy hammer on her hindquarters; she called it a representation of her ability to find little odds and ends that ponies don’t think much of until they really need it. While my dad worked on a larger scale, it was impossible not to be reminded of him.
Terra being Terra, she insisted that I tell her about my planning cutie mark: the pencil-in-gear sitting on my flank. She was rather… amused when I told her that I got it after proving one of my designs: a process that involved repeatedly stabbing myself with a sewing needle.
I couldn’t resist talking shop, and neither could Terra. This invariably led to learning that Terra’s parents were also traveling merchants. It was rather liberating, having someone who would understand what I was saying without extensive explanation, or even just being interested in the world at large. While I made plenty of acquaintances during my time attending school in Ponyville, I’ve found that my fellow citizens can be quite… insular, to say the least. She was the sister I never had. And that pretty much sealed our friendship.
Shaking the nostalgia from my mind, I pressed toward the shop, which had changed very little over the years; even the weather had barely marred its appearance. I nosed the door open, trotting through the empty shop and taking the shortest route to the counter.
Terra looked about as hungover as usual, at least for that point in the day. She slid her romance novel behind one of the bins as I approached.
“How’s the day been treating you?”
Terra groaned. “It’s been a day, but soon I’ll be able to kick back and relax. Weather work been good?”
“Tough. Wild weather’s been giving us a bit of trouble lately. I think I’ll be looking forward to that spa trip too.” I smiled warmly, the rise of my lips fueled by the anticipation of a good back massage.
“Spa? Oh, yeah, right, haha…” Glancing off to the side, Terra tapped a hoof against the counter.
“I swear, one of these days I’ll come back from one of my trips to see that you’ve found a way to marry whiskey.”
Terra stuck out her tongue. “Only if you marry the road f—”
The door swung open, crashing into the door bumper hard enough to echo through the store. My muscles tensed as I turned to the newcomer, but quickly found I had little cause for alarm. In walked a pale, purple-coated earth pony filly with a reddish-brown mane. Her hooves were caked in mud to such an extent that I wondered if she’d just raided someone’s garden.
“Young lady, don’t you dare track mud in here again! Wipe your hooves!” The hangover's effects were gone, replaced by an ire that suggested Terra might just leap over the counter.
The filly jumped and seemed to notice us for the first time. She hastily scraped her hooves across the worn welcome mat. “Y-yes, ma’am!”
I looked back at Terra, but her gaze was still fixed on the filly. Terra’s eyes did not leave the filly as she shoved her head into the various bins until finally coming away with a tin bucket. Nor did they stop when she approached the counter and paid for her purchase.
It was hard to believe Terra would make such a big deal out of a little bit of mud. I didn’t want to suspect a foal of shoplifting, but that was the only thing I could think of that would merit such an intense stare.
Even when the filly joyfully trotted away, bucket in mouth, Terra’s gaze remained.
Once the door slid shut, I raised an eyebrow. “You seem a little ornery.”
“You would be too if you had to ask her three times not to track mud into your clean shop!” Terra flailed her forelegs.
I peered back at the bins and shelves, most of which still had visible layers of dust on or around them. “Clean? Have you seen your shelves lately?”
Buckling down, Terra directed the stare at me. “Well, I don’t need more dirt in here.”
Yeesh, that hangover must be way worse than she’s letting on.
“Sooo… what are you doing next Saturday?” I asked, only too glad to change the subject. “I’m going to check out the Fetlock festival and was wondering if you and Mahogany wanted to come along.”
Terra blinked. “Oh, um, I would, but I’ve already got a date with this cute stallion…”
“The one from the spa?” I refrained from adding, ‘that made eyes at you for all of two minutes’.
“Yep!” She perked up.
“See?” I smirked. “You don’t need whiskey to find dates.”
“But I like whiskey,” she protested.
“You sure do.”
Terra drummed her hooves on the counter. “I think Mahogany has to work all weekend again. Say, why don’t you ask that new guy?”
“Night Flurry?” I sighed. “Well… I don’t know about him.”
“What? Why? What’s wrong?”
I found myself counting the specks on a nearby shelf. “I want to give him a chance to be friends. I mean, there must be a reason Mahogany calls him his ‘best bud’. It’s just… it seems like he can’t even hold a proper conversation.”
“That’s not good.” Terra frowned a moment before perking up. “But hey, Mahogany got through to him, right?”
“Odds of Mahogany having been too drunk to remember how?” I tilted my head.
“Uh…” Terra laughed nervously as she glanced out the window. “It’s about time I closed up. Why don’t we just forget about that for now and do that spa thing we were gonna do?”
I trudged toward the Seapony, exhaustion rippling across my body with each step through the foot-deep snow. Even half-buried under the fresh powder, the sign’s blush almost stood out like a beacon in a storm. I say almost, because the storm had finally, and thankfully, already passed. In its place was the pale, purple-orange glow of the coming evening.
Eight of the last ten hours of my life had been spent foalsitting that patchwork excuse for cloud cover. We had to maintain the allotted snow depth in order to ensure the most optimal spring, but an ordering error had made our job several times harder than it needed to be.
Whoever was in charge of cloud creation had put in for snow clouds much heavier than we needed. With the day upon us, we had no choice but to deploy all the clouds, calculating on the fly when and where we needed to dismantle them; if we'd simply let the clouds do as they would, the whole of Ponyville would have been buried by now.
A day of flying through winter drafts and picking off the right clouds as quickly as possible had left me cold and sweaty. It was for that reason that I didn’t object when Terra and Mahogany insisted we go to the bar much earlier than usual.
One warm shower later and I was on my way over, already anticipating the sweet taste of cider. As I approached the door, I wondered if Starshadow would be there. I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing more of Ostfriesen over a drink or two.
The Seapony was empty, almost embarrassingly so and our usual table was the only one with any occupants. From left to right, Night Flurry, Mahogany and Terrabona sat around a small pile of empty glasses. While I still refused to carry Terra, I had a feeling the night was going to end with me helping her remember where she lived and how to operate a door.
I expected Terra and Mahogany to be deep into their usual competition, but tonight their focus was on Night Flurry; his eyes were closed and body tensed in that way people tend toward when they’re about to do something difficult.
Half of my brain expected Terra and Mahogany to start chanting, “Chug! Chug! Chug!” The other half reminded me the glasses were all on Mahogany and Terra’s side of the table.
Then Night Flurry opened his mouth. “Dusky, since the first day I saw you, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.”
My brow furrowed as his words settled in my mind. Did… did I just step into a romance novel?
“I... I'd been trying to get the courage to talk to you, but, I couldn't... I gave you the earmuffs you found. I left them there for you.” he continued. “And now, I just wish that I could be brave enough to tell you... to say how much I love you... and to hope… That you'd look at me... and maybe see... just how special you are to me...”
Yep. This is a thing that is happening. I felt a frown form as my eyes flitted over to Terra.
She was frantically flailing her forelegs: a meaningless gesture to Night Flurry’s closed eyes. I gave her a flat look, which was answered by a shake of her head. But her sheepish grin betrayed her.
As Night Flurry finished his speech, I turned to Mahogany, whose eyes were hiding in the farthest depths of his drink; his muzzle quivered around his clamped lips, barely containing the flood of laughter that would have surely crushed his friend’s spirits. The awkwardness was so thick, I could have cut it with a knife.
This is so the wrong night for this shit.
Night Flurry opened his eyes. “I... Terrabona? Why are you… what’s wrong with your legs?”
“Oh, uh... Hi, Dusky! Fine evening we're having!” Terra’s shout was almost deafening.
“Uh, hi,” was the best I could manage.
“Um... what?” Night Flurry went rigid and it was clear that if he wasn’t paralysed by his realization, he would have been out of there in a heartbeat. Slowly, painfully, he turned his head. “H-hi?”
I had no words. All I could do was stare, wondering just how I was supposed to respond to something like that. Or if he would even offer an explanation.
Night Flurry began to melt, each second bringing him closer to becoming a puddle of embarrassment. “I... did... how... um... how long were you standing there...?”
With a casual push of her hoof, Terra slid one of her whiskies toward Night Flurry. It stopped just before it could dump itself all over his chest.
I shot Terra a questioning look before turning back to Night Flurry. “Long enough to hear the whole thing.”
“Um... oh…” Night Flurry grabbed the glass and drained it before either Mahogany or I could protest. We were in the midst of mutually surprised glances when it all came back up onto the floor.
Even though my mind was filled with irritation at his presumptuousness, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. To say he was up the creek with a wing cramp and no paddle was an understatement.
“Well... I meant it,” he said. The creek had just emptied into a lake.
"I could tell." I eyed him up and down.
Night Flurry practically fell over himself as each pair of legs attempted to take a separate route to the door. “I should... I should probably go…”
Yeah, probably, was what my knee-jerk reaction would have been if I hadn’t caught it in time. Another part of me nagged, turning my head toward Mahogany, who looked more dumbfounded than I’d ever seen him. I sighed, knowing I would likely regret what I was about to do.
“Wait, Night Flurry. Can we talk? In private?”
“Um... Yeah... yeah... wherever you want…” He pushed himself to his hooves.
I led the way toward the back of the bar. Terra gave me a stupid grin as I passed her and I shot her a glare in return. During tomorrow’s hangover visit, we were going to have a long chat.
At the rear of the Seapony was a quartet of large, private rooms. They were set up much like the common area, with the only real difference being that they were normally rented out for functions. I was quite certain Barkeep wouldn’t mind if I borrowed one for a couple minutes, though.
I trotted into the nearest empty room and pointed Night Flurry toward a table near the back. He obeyed without question, though his hopeful glance left me a bit wary. If he was expecting me to suddenly come out and proclaim that I also secretly loved him, he was going to be sorely disappointed.
Pressing the door shut, I started silently counting to twenty.
After about ten seconds, Night Flurry looked over, confusion plain on his face. I held up a forehoof and, surprisingly, he remained quiet.
Just a little longer.
The tell-tale tip-tap of swaying, drunken steps touched my ears, growing louder as they neared the door. Then they stopped.
I let the silence linger for a few seconds more before calling out, “Terra, I know you’re there! Cut it out!”
There was a grumble, followed by the clomp clomp clomp of departing hooves. Distant cackles that carried Mahogany’s distinct deepness interlaced each step. His subsequent shout was barely coherent enough for me to make out.
“Toldsya! Both ofsya!”
Once the sound had completely faded away, I let out a sigh and turned my attention to Night Flurry.
Taking the seat across from him, I stared until he finally met my gaze. “Look, Night Flurry, the whole romantic speech thing is flattering, but we hardly know each other. It makes the entire thing lose all of its weight.”
Night Flurry sighed and lowered his head. "I... I know... maybe... I um... well... this is my fault... I knew I shouldn't have listened to them..."
“Terra?”
He nodded sheepishly.
“Right.”
Night Flurry inhaled like it was his last breath. "Maybe it's just a crush, but maybe not... I don't know... I really want to learn more about you, and to make this work.. but... I'm... I'm not very good at it..."
“Okay, slow down.” I resisted the urge to rub my temples. “Let’s start at friends. It’s simple and will let you sort your feelings out. From there we’ll have to wait and see. And if you’re really serious about getting to know me, the first thing you have to do is stop following me around.”
His cheeks flushed and he just about slid under the table, a nervous smile forming on his lips. “I... would like that. T-to be friends. I'm... sorry. I'll just... take it down a notch... a few notches.”
"That would be a good start." I gave him a reassuring smile. The whole talk would be a waste of time if he ended up too high strung to remember any of it.
"I won't make any promises that I'll stop feeling this way... but... I'll try to keep it more... um... civil... sorry..."
“I guess that will have to do.”
He squirmed and opened his mouth again, but this time the words seemed to catch entirely in his throat. Several seconds dragged past before he finally coughed them out. “Th-there’s this festival… in Fetlock. W-would you like to go? A-as friends, of course!”
I pondered a moment. A public function like that certainly wasn’t the worst idea. We needed to do something outside of the bar, something where he would be more in his element. And if his cutie mark was any indication, a snow festival was just the right thing.
Giving him a stern look, I nodded. “I was already planning to check it out, but I wouldn’t mind the company of a friend.”
Night Flurry’s face brightened. “Yes! I mean… yes, so, um, I can get the train tickets in the morning.”
“Actually, I was going to fly.” I glanced at his wings. “Can you handle the distance?”
“Oh…” He squirmed a little. “Um, yeah. I-I think I can.”
“All right, I think that covers everything, then. We should get back; the others are probably wondering what’s taking us.”
“Dusky... I'm sorry... a-and thank you. For understanding and for... for being willing to stay friends…”
With a smile, I glanced back before turning to the door. “Just remember what you said and we’ll get along just fine.”
---
Our conversation had taken even longer than I thought; by the time we emerged, the bar’s usual festivities were well underway; the common area was nearly deafening compared to the private room, in a testament to the back room’s soundproofing. Night Flurry trailed in my wake as I pushed my way through the crowd.
I expected to return to a torrent of meddling, but Terra was distracted by yet another newcomer. The reddish-brown unicorn mare was tall and muscular in a way that reminded me of Starshadow. Bold maroon locks washed over partially camouflaged barding. Much like Starshadow’s, it was painted to blend with the coat, but tiny, unserviced nicks exposed the scales’ true, dull grey colour. Wrapped around her barrel was a heavy saddle, with a large satchel on one side and a holster on the other. A small crossbow, the kind built solely for magical use, sat snugly in the holster, with no effort made to conceal it.
Unlike Starshadow, this second Ostfriesen pony seemed more than happy to match Terra’s forwardness.
“Yes, yes, I am. I’m supposed to meet Sis’ here. Hope you don’t mind if I hang out and enjoy the view~,” the newcomer said, her voice drifting off into an odd sort of singsong, to a tune only she could hear. Her eyes flitted over to Terra’s hindquarters.
The matchmaker and the flirt.
“I see you’ve found a new friend.” I took my usual spot at the table, where all the whiskey seemed to have bred and multiplied.
“She said alla booze's on her t'night. She'szuh bes'!” Mahogany chimed in.
Well, that explains a lot. I cast a sideways glance at the heroically large stockpile of whiskey again. “I’m going to repeat this again, just so we’re clear: I’m not carrying anypony home tonight.”
“That’s okay, they can stay in my room~,” Merriweather grinned.
Oh, Celestia, she’s not just a flirt, she’s that kind of flirt. Fighting back a frown, I gave her a onceover. “On second thought…”
Merriweather slid closer to Terra, pressing up against her neck. I fully expected Terra to play along, but instead she just looked confused. After a few long seconds, she experimentally poked her muzzle into Merriweather’s forelock.
I don’t know why it stuck out to me so much. There could have been any number of explanations, from whiskey-induced spacing out, Terra being unsure about somepony who was more flirty than she, or perhaps just having second thoughts about being into mares.
“So, um… Merriweather,” I began, trying to give Terra an opening to pull back if she needed to. “When are you and Starshadow supposed to meet up? I was hoping to chat with her a bit more.”
“Oh, 'bout ten hours ago.” She leaned back and waved her hoof.
“I’m sorry. What?” I raised an eyebrow.
“She’shgon' use magic to go back in tiiiime, duh! Even Flurry know’zat!” Mahogany laughed as he wrapped one forehoof around Night Flurry and slammed down his umpteenth empty glass.
“I… I, um, do?” Night Flurry’s voice barely rose above the crowd.
Merriweather giggled. “Nah, I just made a little detour~. She’ll get over it.”
I thought back to Starshadow’s oh-so-warm response to Terra’s advances. “Yeah, I’m sure she won’t be mad at all and will have no issues with you arriving so late.”
“Exactly! ‘Sides, she’s always cooler after a kill and she should have bagged at least a couple by the time she gets back.” A glass floated up to Merriweather, wrapped in the pink glow of her horn. She waved a hoof again before slamming the whole thing back.
Mahogany clapped his hooves together. “I like her already!”
“Wait, kills?” I knew the answer, but was almost afraid to ask. “In Everfree?!”
“Yep! I think…” Merriweather poked the empty glass. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what she must have said.”
“That place is dangerous.”
“Good thing Sis’ is more dangerous.” Merriweather grinned.
I frowned, but decided to let the subject rest. Having never seen Starshadow fight, I had no grounds to argue. Shifty as Merriweather was, I had to admit that she probably knew her sister better than I was giving her credit for.
“Well, good. Scrounging up a search party for a place like that would have been… tough.”
“‘Scuse me,” Terra said, finally parting from Merriweather’s embrace. “Gotta use the filly’sh room.”
She stood and started stumbling in the opposite direction.
“Excuse me too,” I hastily added before dashing over and bracing her with my body. “Here, Terra, it’s this way.”
“Oh, yeah!”
The journey took about twice as long as it should have, but it was decidedly a blessing in disguise. We arrived just as a trio of mares departed, leaving us with an empty washroom.
Thankfully, Terra’s business didn’t involve emptying her bladder, which saved me from the awkwardness that was trying to help her into a stall. On the other hoof, her spending the next couple minutes standing at a sink, splashing cold water on her face, wasn’t exactly encouraging.
I stepped up beside her, looking for signs of non-alcohol-related issues. “Hey, Terra? You going to be okay?”
Terra stared at the mirror as though her reflection was her arch-nemesis. Nearly a full minute passed before she finally opened her mouth. “My schexy is gone.”
There were a lot of things I guessed she might say. That was not one of them. “Um, what? Terra, you’re not making any sense. Do you mean you’re not on your game tonight?”
“Uh… …” She trailed off, gaze still glued to the other her. “Shhhure, le’s go with that!”
I sighed. “This is the last time I let Merriweather pay your tab.”
“C’mon, Terra, stop dragging your hooves.” I glanced behind me. Terra was a full five gallops behind, despite keeping pace with me just a block earlier. But now, just a few feet from the Seapony’s door, she was shuffling forward, like a foal dreading homework.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she mumbled, staring past me—and the door.
I peered at Terra, trying to decide if she was attempting to hide some kind of injury or illness. But, at least at first glance, nothing seemed particularly off. “You going to be okay?”
Giving me a half-smile, Terra broke into something resembling a trot. “Yep. I’ve just had a long day. I’ll be fine after a few drinks.”
“So right away.” I grinned and stuck out my tongue.
“Ha. Ha.” Terra could barely hold her attempt at an unimpressed glare before cracking into a broad smile. “Yeah, okay, probably.”
The night was young and the bar had only begun to fill up. A thin layer of chatter hung in the air, though our table was clearly the noisiest, courtesy of Merriweather.
"Come on!" Merriweather teased, seeming not to care that Starshadow was only a half foot away from her. Two glasses levitated free of the army of Buzzards and whiskies that occupied the table. "Mahogany here has shown me the finest of Equestrian tastes!"
Mahogany grinned at Merriweather and raised his glass. He turned to his right and ribbed Night Flurry, who jumped, just about spilling the table's lone tea cup. "Hear that, Flurry? My drink's popular with them classy ponies too!"
"That fact that you recommend it does not help its case." Starshadow frowned.
I plopped down beside Mahogany. Terra didn't even bother before she was muzzle-deep in one of the unclaimed whiskies.
"Hey, Terra! Dusky! You're just in time!" Mahogany clapped a forehoof across my shoulder. "Her Highness Merriweather is buyin' again!"
"Yeah, that's... uh, great." I subtly shuffled a few of the untouched glasses away from Terra.
"The greatest!" Terra burbled into her drink.
Night Flurry fidgeted with his tea cup. While he threw a glance our way every so often, his gaze was firmly fixed upon Merriweather and Starshadow.
"Geez, lighten up, Sis'. This is a bar~."
"I am aware." Starshadow rolled her eyes. "Just as I am aware such things will not help you regain your honour."
"Hey, gotta build a fanbase before the heroic deeds mean anything." Merriweather waved her hoof.
Terra started laughing in a strange combination of amusement and derision.
Merriweather leaned over. “You’re supposed to wait until I tell a joke.”
"A thief talking about honour! That’s funny!" Terra brought her forehooves up on the table, rattling her empty glasses. For a second, I thought she might even climb over it to leap at Starshadow. A fire burned in her eyes, but it wasn't the hazy kind drunkards displayed before swinging a chair around. No, while the film of alcohol was beginning to form, it was more akin to that steely glare she'd given that poor filly the other day.
Starshadow glared back. "You would dare call me a thief?"
"Yeah! You... you sexy-stealing thief!" Terra slammed her hooves on the table.
I blinked. Everyone else at the table stopped dead.
"Siiiiis', you lied to me." Merriweather giggled. "You should've told me she was your type. I could've hooked you up with a nice mare back in Manehattan~."
"Terra." I sighed. "You can't just go around accusing people of 'stealing your sexiness'. It doesn't even qualify as a proper pick-up line."
"Technically, I just suppressed it." Starshadow glared at Merriweather in that sisterly way that said 'You're an idiot.'
Terra flailed at me, a proud grin painted across her face. "Told ya!"
"Wait, what?" I glanced from Terra to Starshadow and back. "That's a thing?'
"Yes. I made it for a certain somepony who lets her loins run off with her," Starshadow said in a complete deadpan. I stared at her for a few more seconds, but no laugh was forthcoming.
"Oh, is that all that does?" Merriweather tilted her head.
"What do you mean, 'is that all'? I shut down your libido."
Merriweather shrugged. "I just dispel it, anyway. But, geez Sis', I expected something more creative, like making beds turn my hair into tarantulas or making me speak alternating Griffon or even suddenly sprouting a—"
"Oooookay, I think we're getting a bit off topic," I cut in. This was already a headache without Merriweather wasting time on total absurdity. Not to mention that alarms were going off in my mind. They certainly didn't seem as knightly as Starshadow wanted us to believe. "Can somepony please fix this?"
Mahogany laughed as he turned to Terra. "Whatcha even need it for? You just try to make other ponies get busy."
"Oh, that's easy. I got it." Merriweather's horn lit up, as did Terra. The light grew more intense with each moment, rippling with power in a way that I'd only seen from Twilight.
"Whoa, hold on." I took a few steps backward. "Maybe we should do this outside."
"Nah, I got it. Just relax and it'll be over soon~."
The frequency of the distortions increased and Terra grimaced as her body appeared to displace around itself. The others began to back away as well.
"Stop! You're hurting her!" I yelled. But it was too late: the magic collapsed, which meant only one thing. "Every pony get down!"
Instinct took over and I dove under the nearest table, covering my head with my forehooves.
In the calm before the storm, I thought I heard Night Flurry’s voice, followed by a set of blue hooves appearing in front of the table. "Look out, Dusky!"
The ensuing 'pop' was blessedly underwhelming, though the table told a different story as it creaked and groaned under the pressure of the release.
But the worst were the cries of pain—Night Flurry's cries of pain—as he was forced back toward me, crashing into the table before crumpling to the ground. I couldn't help but stare, my body torn between anger and concern.
What was he thinking?!
I inched forward, a third contender, the dread of uncertainty, rising above the rest. Thankfully, its reign was short-lived, giving way to relief when I noticed Night Flurry’s chest was still rising and falling.
Poking my head out, I hoped to Celestia that I wouldn’t find a whole room full of downed ponies. The result was even more surreal.
Terra, Merriweather and Starshadow all still stood at the table, bearing expressions of confusion, contemplation and annoyance, respectively. None of them had any discernable injury. In fact, were it not for the frazzled manes and… what looked like an amalgamation of all the melted glasses clinging to the table, I might have thought the whole situation a hallucination.
Mahogany stood just a little forward from the other patrons, a ruffled coat the worst of his worries. And like the other patrons, his mouth was agape, forehooves rubbing at his eyes. I would have shouted ‘No, it’s not the alcohol!’ at them, but I had other concerns.
There was a thin smear of blood on the floor, leading up to Night Flurry, where he lay sprawled on his side. His topmost wing was spread, a couple of his primaries scraping across the stain.
“Night Flurry?” I whispered. When he didn’t respond, I nosed at his temple.
“Ugh…” he groaned.
“How do you feel? Can you move?”
“I… um…” He struggled to open his eyes, seeming to give up once they were half-open. “Fine, just fine.”
As he finished lying through his teeth, he pushed himself up, clenching them around a whimper. His wing curled, loosely clutching itself to his side.
“You are not fine.” I narrowed my eyes, intent on cutting through whatever twisted sense of pride would let him lie about his injury. “Let me see your wing.”
With a reluctant nod, he held his wing up. Small splatters of blood caked the feathers around several large, still-glowing splinters of wood, in a mess that sent a chill across my own wings. The damage seemed to end there, with the rest of his body free of marring. However, this did little to ease my wariness—I’d once been hit by magic that nearly killed me, with little more than a few singed feathers to show for it.
“We need to get you to a doctor.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but upon following my gaze to his wing, promptly clamped it shut.
Starshadow trotted over, her eyes tracing over Night Flurry. “I apologize for my sister’s rashness. May I?”
With a nod, Night Flurry extended his wing. It took all of ten seconds and a flash of magic before Starshadow turned her attention back to Night Flurry himself.
“I agree with Dusky Down’s assessment. You should see a physician immediately.”
“Wait,” Terra stumbled over, giving Starshadow an expectant look. “Can’t you use your knight powers to heal him or something?”
“Sure—” Merriweather began, her horn lighting up.
“No,” Starshadow said firmly. Her own magic leapt into being and Merriweather’s head flicked back, as though something had hit her in the forehead.
“What, why? It’s an easy spell.” Merriweather frowned.
“Do you not see it? His wounds are already saturated with magic. We do not want to risk repeating what injured him in the first place.”
Night Flurry slumped noiselessly to the floor, pulling my attention away from the Ostfriesens. His breathing had become uneven and his eyes barely more than slits.
“Look, can we argue later?” I let a bit of irateness leak into my voice. “He’s getting worse.”
Mahogany dashed for the door, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll get my cart!”
---
It’s not often that I can say laziness and alcoholism helped save the day, but this was one of those times. Mahogany’s impatience had led to him flying directly to the Seapony after work and leaving the company cart behind it.
While a cargo cart wasn’t exactly the most ideal way to transport a hurt pony, the trip to the clinic was short enough that we made do.
The rest of the night was a blur, fragmented memories floating around my mind like scattered photographs. I remembered racing down the streets alongside Mahogany, keeping a close eye on Night Flurry as the others fell farther and farther behind. Then I was slamming through the clinic doors, yelling for help.
At some point, they’d stabilized him. I don’t even know what I was doing, but before they took him away for observation, he called to me. Then everything was overshadowed by anger, an urge to rant, held back only by my reasoning that he was delirious.
“Worth it,” was all he’d said. When all he’d done was throw himself in harm’s way. When all he’d accomplished was scaring us.
I didn’t know what to make of Merriweather or Starshadow anymore. I remember wanting to tell them to get away. But I didn’t have the energy; all I could do was give them a tired glare. Perhaps the awkward silence was enough. Starshadow eventually excused herself to go see Barkeep.
We were still wordless as the clinic staff kicked us out. Terra walked on the far opposite side from Merriweather. I couldn’t blame her.
There was a dawning realization, as the cold swept over me: snow was scheduled that night.
Then I was in the weather office, hoping that somepony was on back-up. There wasn’t. Not a soul was around and I’d only even gotten in because I’d pilfered Night Flurry’s keys from his flight satchel. I don’t even remember who grabbed it, just that I’d counted myself lucky to have found the A-shaped bag pitched into the back of Mahogany’s cart.
With the storm already twenty minutes overdue, I was left with a choice: fly out to Rainbow Dash’s house and annoy her with extra admin work or get an early start on the work I knew she’d ask me to do, anyway.
While I’d worked through the night several times before, it’d always been for Winter Wrap Up and at the tail end of a planned team effort. This was my second full shift of the day, with just a short break that involved nearly getting blown up. Certainly not the worst I’d had, but by the last hour, it was really starting to wear on me.
Thankfully, the Everfree had been kind—a pretty surreal thought all on its own. What wild weather I remembered fighting had been token at worst.
I remember stumbling into my apartment, barely able to lock the door and shuffle over to my bed before crashing face first into it.
It was well after noon by the time I’d risen, which would have been an hour into my next shift. I probably would have bolted out of there too, if I hadn’t noticed the leaflet on the floor. My own flight satchel lay across the wooden boards, half-spilling out its contents, where I must have shrugged if off the night before.
Rainbow Dash’s mouth-writing was hastily scrawled all over the leaflet—a scheduling template—where my name was marked for the next five evenings.
After nibbling on some daisies and ensuring that I didn’t look like someone who’d just crawled out from under a train wreck, I decided I needed to work on my night weather efficiency. I certainly couldn’t count on the Everfree being merciful again for five nights in a row.
While I planned on interrogating Night Flurry, I had no idea how coherent he would be. So I decided a quick side trip to the library, to see if I could find any books, was in order.
There was just one flaw in my plan: getting into a conversation about magic with Twilight Sparkle does not ever result in a quick trip. Which isn’t to say I wasn’t grateful—she was one of the few ponies with the right talent to have a strong understanding of other tribes’ magic. It’s just that my mind was still a wee bit tired for a surprise lecture.
Nevertheless, by the end of it all, I was almost confident I knew enough to get by without even opening the book she’d given me. Still, it couldn’t hurt to ask Night Flurry for some less formal tips.
Once that was all settled, I could finally give him a piece of my mind.
The clinic was deathly quiet, a sure sign that Nurse Redheart was on duty. Even my light hoof steps seemed deafening against the polished floor. And here I’d thought the bright green walls were loud.
Murmurs touched my ears as I approached the door to Night Flurry’s room. I could pick out Terra and Mahogany, as well as bits of what sounded like Night Flurry. Rounding the corner, I hoped that they were the only ones there; I simply wasn’t ready to deal with the knights just yet.
The door was wide open, but I gave it a few taps to be polite. The room was a pretty standard clinic layout, with just a curtain, a night stand and a lamp to keep the bed company. Terra and Mahogany looked up from the foot of Night Flurry’s bed, while he tried to peek around them.
I put on a smile. “Hello, everypony.”
“E-evening, Dusky…” Night Flurry stammered, shrinking down behind Mahogany.
“Hey,” Terra and Mahogany both said in stereo.
“We were, uh, just talking about weather,” Terra continued.
“Right.” I was too tired to ask, so I simply nodded. “If it’s about the night shift, I’ve got it covered.”
“Oh. Th-thanks…” Night Flurry said. While he was still mostly hidden behind Mahogany, it wasn’t hard to picture him wilting. I almost didn’t feel bad. Almost.
I trotted over to the side of the bed, where I could see him. “Anything special you do compared to the day shift?”
His face scrunched up. “Um… I guess ponies don’t care about gathering clouds early. Maybe they just don’t see. B-but, it’s good when I have to spend a lot of time with the Everfree.”
“Anything else?”
He scrunched his face again. “I-I don’t think so.”
Great, guess I’d better hope Twilight’s techniques pan out. I nodded. “In any event, I’m glad to see you’re awake.”
“Umm... yeah.... I slept p-pretty much all day. Nurse said I was out for about fifteen hours... but... um... I can't sleep at all during the night…” He pawed at his blanket, as though contemplating trying to hide beneath it.
I nodded. "I'd be surprised if you could fall asleep again right after sleeping for fifteen hours."
“I’ve got a little something that can fix that.” Mahogany held out something that glinted in the light. It only took me a moment to realize it was his flask. Even Terra stared.
“Mahogany…” Rolling my eyes, I gave him a look.
“No?” He pointed it at Night Flurry, who just pulled away. “All right, your loss.”
And with that, he uncapped it and took a big swig.
“I.. um... Dusky?” Night Flurry continued to play with his sheets.
“Yes?” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Terra taking the flask from Mahogany.
“I... I... wanted to thank you for everything you did. Nurse Redheart says you brought me in and made sure I was okay... and I just... um... thanks…” By this point, he’d practically tied his forehooves together.
A small smirk involuntarily formed on my lips. "What else was I going to do? Leave you at the bar?"
Night Flurry shrunk down, a bit of colour playing across his cheeks. “I... I guess not…”
“You really need to take better care of yourself so you don't end up in here again.”
“W-what do you mean... I thought I took care of myself just fine.” Night Flurry’s eyes shifted side-to-side.
The annoyance was back in force. With a sigh, I let my eyes narrow. “You jumped in front of an exploding wall of magic.”
“But... I... um... I did it to… I did it to protect you!” Night Flurry leaned forward with such suddenness that he almost fell off the bed. A forehoof each from Mahogany and I saved him from face-planting.
“Real smooth, Flurry,” Mahogany shook his head.
“Look, I know your heart was in the right place, but if you were really paying attention, you’d have noticed I was already under a table. Throwing yourself into the open like that was nothing short of foalish.” I tried to make my frown as obvious as possible so that he might finally get the message.
Frustratingly, Night Flurry smiled, looking past me, rather than at me. “It's.... it's who I am. I don't even know... I just... acted on instinct."
I should have guessed from the beginning, really. If that really was his first instinct, I had little doubt that he’d tried to join the guard, not to become a guard, but because he wanted to be a hero. By Celestia, what is it about me that attracts these kinds of ponies?
Not that that was any reason to write him off in my books. Though we had to go our separate ways, one of my friends, Blaze, had started out much like Night Flurry. But for all her recklessness, she was a mare with a strong sense of justice, the kind I could trust to always have my back. Had I not given her a chance, I would most definitely have been losing out.
And to be fair, perhaps it was my own past that made me see those traits as readily as I did. To say that I’d idolized Daring Do ever since I was a filly bordered on understatement.
I shook my head. “You can't rely entirely on instinct in dangerous situations. If you don’t learn when to let logic intervene, you'll end up putting yourself in unnecessary danger.”
“I... maybe you're right... but…” Night Flurry stared at the tiles beneath my forehooves. “It didn't feel unnecessary to me... I just... I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt... um... s-sorry…”
He still wasn’t getting it, but he’d left me an opening; I just had to choose my next words carefully. “I can see what you’re getting at, but think of it in reverse. You have friends and they don’t want to see you get hurt, either. So next time, put a little thought into your actions.”
Night Flurry’s eyes went wide and his jaw began to move on its own, slowly, wordlessly chewing away at his smile. “I... oh... you're right... it was pretty stupid of me… A-and about the shifts… I… I never wanted you to get stuck with them. S-sorry...”
Now I just had to point him in the right direction. I placed a hoof on his shoulder and gave him the teeniest, tiniest of smiles. “So long as you learn from your mistakes. We all make them, after all. As for the shifts, well, I’m used to getting shuffled around a lot, even if the night shift is out of the ordinary for me. Just promise me this kind of thing won’t happen again.”
“It... it's a boring shift... unless they planned some snow or something…” He was mid-nod when his eyes went wide and he started fidgeting with the sheets so intensely that I thought they were going to tear. “Oh, Luna… that was last night, wasn’t it?”
I nodded. “It was still manageable. More or less.”
Night Flurry slumped, his hooves completely still as his gaze drifted, trying to escape to somewhere, anywhere—and pulling mine along with it. They stopped on Terra.
Her lips were puckered, with eyes flitting expectantly between Night Flurry and I, as she anxiously tapped her forehooves together. She mumbled something just barely audible; were we not in the clinic, I doubt I would have even heard it. “Now, kisssss~.”
Just to the side, Mahogany was staring at her, his expression stuck in a weird place between, ‘Should do something to stop her or just break out laughing?’
I raised an eyebrow.
Night Flurry turned beet red. “Oh... um... you know what, I think, um... I think those injuries did more to me than I thought... I'm suddenly really tired, yep... definitely need to get some more rest..."
“Oh, come on!” Terra threw her hooves into the air.
“Yeah, this is over. I need to get to work soon, anyway. Seeya, Night Flurry. Let’s go, Terra,” I huffed and grabbed her tail between my teeth. Her meddling had crossed well into the realm of tasteless and it was time for a little chat.
“Hey! Don’t—” Terra protested as I dragged her toward the door.
Mahogany followed closely behind. “Get well, Flurry! I’ll bring some more ‘medicine’ tomorrow.”
Once we were all in the hall, I closed the door as quickly as I could without making a racket.
“Unbelievable. Are you trying to make everything as awkward as possible?” I glared at Terra.
“Uh... no?” She smiled back sheepishly.
“Then stop pushing us together like that. We’re just friends, stop trying to lead him on by proxy.”
Mahogany was rolling on the ground, snickering as he gasped for air. “Hahaha… What was that even? ‘Now kiss’? Pffffft!”
I sighed. “What am I going to do with you two?”
“Is this a bad time?” The voice of Pinkie Pie made us all jump.
I whirled to face Pinkie, who was standing just a few feet down the hall. She wore a lopsided blue party hat and was pushing a commandeered crash cart with a tray of cupcakes set on top. I couldn’t help but smile. Some people found Pinkie’s boundless energy overbearing, but it always calmed me. For all her wackiness, what was at her core was a whole lot of caring. And sometimes, just a little dose of that was all that I needed.
“Hi, Pinkie. What are you up to?”
“I’m trying out my new ‘Get Well Sooner’ Cupcakes program!” Pinkie Pie flourished. “I used to just wait outside to invite ponies to an ‘I Got Better’ party, but then I thought why wait when I can bring the cheer to everyone while they’re still sick?”
“Well, that’s quite nice of you.” I glanced down the hall, fairly certain I knew what Pinkie was about to say, but I liked to give her the benefit of the doubt. “I’m surprised Nurse Redheart let you do this, though,”
“Oh, she doesn’t know, but I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Since I was prepared, my smile barely dropped. “Er, right.”
“Anyway, was nice talking to you all, but these cupcakes won’t deliver themselves! Bye, Dusky! Bye, Terrabona! Bye, Mahogany!” She trotted toward Night Flurry’s door.
Terra and Mahogany gave each other dubious looks.
“Wait, Pinkie.” I tried to keep my voice low. Wouldn’t want to get her kicked out before she'd made her rounds. “I don’t think he’s ready for another visitor just yet. Maybe you should see all the other ponies first and check back with him later.”
“Okay dokey lokey! Bye-bye!” Pinkie didn’t even miss a step as she bounced toward the next room, humming a vaguely familiar tune.
I felt my lips creeps upward again as my mind sung along. Come on, everypony, smile, smile, smile...
The Ponyville train station was, as expected, practically empty. We were getting a much later start than I’d have liked; by now, the first two trains to Fetlock Falls had already departed. We could have made the first, but that would have involved leaving right after my shift.
As much as I wanted to see the festival, going as a tired, sweaty mess would have been a terrible mistake. After quick trip home, a shower and a power nap, at least the latter half of my problem was solved. The first had become more or less manageable, leaning a bit toward ‘less’.
Even though we had a late start, if I could last the day, we could also stay later. While I’d liked to have also traded away the previous night’s shift, I was already lucky to have freed up one night. Turns out most of the weather team wasn’t too keen on taking the darkest, loneliest shift on the schedule; I got the feeling Cloud Kicker only agreed to this next night because she felt she owed me from that time she ducked out when her kid brother nearly burned down the school house.
In any event, at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel: if the doctor’s estimate was right, I’d only have three more shifts before I could give it back to Night Flurry.
My flight satchels were almost uncomfortably light, with my emergency weather gear stowed at home and hardly a ration added for so short a trip. With my semi-frequent outings to Canterlot, one might think I’d get used to it, but after a lifetime of extended travel, a full pack was always going to be the most reassuring. Still, prudence is only prudence so long as it’s practical, a principle that even my highly-prepared parents embraced.
Despite the platform being out in what was essentially an open field, Night Flurry’s steps almost echoed as he trotted across the wooden planks. His legs were as rigid as stilts and his bandaged wing and flight satchels sagged with his back. But it wasn’t the bags that weighed him down; no, it was the awkwardness, the aftermath of the explosion that burdened him most.
It would take a special level of obliviousness or apathy to dismiss the whole incident. To be honest, while he had much of the former, he let his emotions drive him hard enough that I’d have thought him more likely to flee, backing out of the trip.
Instead, he insisted on paying for the tickets as penance. While I couldn’t help but be a bit wary, I didn’t want to discourage him from making genuine amends. So I grudgingly accepted, the end result of which was him shuffling up to the ticket counter.
“T-two for F-Fetlock, please.” Night Flurry scuffed his hoof.
“Sure thing.” The yellow mare at the booth smiled warmly; I wagered she’d seen more than her fair share of nervous customers. As she set to work scribbling and stamping, my eyes drifted behind her.
Right smack in the middle of the pink and purple wall was one of those hanging cat posters. It was the classic tree variation with a poor black kitten holding on for dear life. Hang in there, baby.
I always found myself distracted from the motivational part by the fact that in order to get their precious photo, someone had to be cruel enough to dangle their poor kitty from a tree.
“There we go, that’ll be ten bits,” the mare said.
A few seconds of fumbling later and we were on our way. As luck would have it, the train pulled up just as we reached the edge of the platform. I led the way, choosing the rearmost coach and settling into the seats at the very back. From there, I could see anyone who entered.
Night Flurry fidgeted with the back of the seat in front of him; luckily, no one was sitting in it. “You know... I've actually never taken a train before… I umm.. I guess that's not too surprising for a pegasus, though…”
I nodded. “Yeah, I only take it when flight conditions are especially poor.”
“In far off places?” Night Flurry stared at a blank spot on the wall.
“Uh, sometimes? I was actually talking about Canterlot.” I replied, scrambling to get us back on the same page. “Sometimes they get carried away with ‘artsy’ to the point that it becomes unsafe.”
“O-oh, haha… well, um, I-I’ve never been to Canterlot, so it’s k-kind of far off for me?” He sunk down.
“Really? It’s a beautiful city. You should really go there sometime.” I couldn’t decide if it was more strange or appropriate that he hadn’t been there. On one hoof, his dad worked for the Guard. On the other, his dad worked for Guard and he was estranged.
“Y-yeah… Maybe one day…” Night Flurry mumbled, playing with the seat even more. It rattled and creaked under the assault.
“Night Flurry.”
He stopped and gave me a nervous stare.
“Try to relax a bit. If you’re this tense the whole way there, you’ll be too exhausted to enjoy the festival.”
He took a deep breath that stuttered almost as much as his speech. “Y-yeah... just you know, um... the train. Yeah, never been on a train... t-that's all.”
Outside, a mare, who was presumably the conductor, shouted, “Passengers for Fetlock! Last call!”
“It’s not much different from riding in a cart.” I put on my best reassuring smile. “You’ll see soon enough.”
“R-right... Okay, I'll just um... think of it as that.”
The train lurched forward. For all my talk, I still found it a bit unsettling, but as such a small part of the trip, it was easy enough to put out of mind.
While he was still fidgeting, Night Flurry already seemed to be doing better. Perhaps it was only because he was concentrating so hard on his forehooves, but it was still something. Another minute passed before he finally looked up.
“Oh! Um... you said you went to Canterlot... So, um... where else have you gone?"
Trips far too numerous to remember all at once stirred in the back of my mind, clambering over each other as they fought for my attention. “Most of Equestria's major cities, plus all the smaller towns in between. There’s more than that, but I can’t name them all off the top of my head.”
Night Flurry stared off at the wall again. “I lived in Cloudsdale nearly my whole life. N-never got to travel much. I came to Ponyville for the job... I-I wish I could travel more.”
“It’s not too late. The trick is to start small and nearby, such as Canterlot, then work your way up from there.”
He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Wherever the wall had taken him, it was far away. Perhaps it was time to give him some space.
It was just as well, as fatigue suddenly hit me hard. I stifled a yawn, letting my head gradually come to rest on my forehooves.
Night Flurry looked over, his bandaged wing twitching. “S-sorry.”
“I know. What’s done is done. Look toward doing better in the future.”
He glanced at his forehooves again. “M-maybe I could k-keep an eye out while you nap? M-make sure we don’t miss the stop and all?”
“I wouldn’t mind resting my eyes for a bit.” I nodded, eying him up and down. “Just don’t fall asleep yourself and… wake me if anything out of the ordinary happens.”
“O-okay. Yes, I can d-do that!” He smiled.
“All right, thanks.”
I closed my eyes, but kept an ear open. After a few moments, I found myself listening to the sounds of the tracks as the train rumbled along; it was pleasant, rhythmic, hypnotic, even. It wasn’t even ten minutes before I’d dozed off entirely.
---
I was running, hooves tapping on the solid white floor as I followed the walls into eternity. I wanted to turn back and look, but I couldn’t, nor did I need to. His silhouette was already motionless, a distant mound behind me.
There’s too many… You… you have to run! Live... and show them they... can’t just do what they want.
His name was Silent Vigil. He was one of eight.
My hooves gave way and the floor exploded in a shower of powder. The walls shifted too, spiralling around me in an impenetrable flurry. Just an inch from my muzzle was the only clear detail: a set of hoof prints. Four steps in the middle of an abyss of snow. Fours steps that stopped dead.
“Twi… light, I… where are you? I… I’m sorry. The cold... it’s too much. Forgive me…”
The snow solidified, becoming a muzzle, then an entire face. An eye peered out from under Ivory’s black forelock. She simply stared at me until I had to look away. When my gaze returned, she was gone.
Why didn’t you do anything? Why did you abandon them?
The voice was mine.
---
“... Dusky? Dusky... um... ... okay? Um... w-wake...?” Night Flurry’s voice drifted into my awareness. I wasn’t even sure if I was still dreaming or not.
“D-Dusky? Um... Hey, it's a little early, but we're... um... ugh, I don't know... um, some great scenery out there... ha ha ha...” His voice was louder this time, cutting through the haze. This time, I was certain I was waking up.
My eyes snapped open, for all the good a blurry world did me. I had to blink several times to focus, but when I finally did, I scanned the car. Nothing had changed: the seats were just as empty as when I’d dozed off.
Raising an eyebrow, I turned to Night. “What’s up?”
“Oh, um... ha ha... n-nothing, really... you just... um, it looked like you were having a bad dream and... um, I-I was a little concerned... Sorry…”
Fragments of the nightmares resurfaced, slipping over and through my mind. I frowned. The night shifts were clearly taking their toll; dreams like those only come out in force when I’m sufficiently sleep deprived.
“S-so stupid... I-I knew I sh-should have let you sleep. I'm so s-sorry!” Night Flurry stared at the floor.
I shook my head, half at Night Flurry and half at my unwanted thoughts. “No, no, I’m grateful. Thank you, Night Flurry. I… Nevermind, I’m fine now.”
Putting on my best smile, I pushed myself to a sitting position.
“Oh, um, okay... Y-you need anything? I can go f-find that conductor for another drink if you w-want one.”
“No, thanks. I’m not thirsty.”
“Oh... good, good... Okay, well... I-I think we'll be there fairly soon.”
I nodded, lingering in the silence a bit as I shooed away the last of my drowsiness. That was when the windows demanded my attention.
The tracks approached the edge of the plateau and while the view from the enclosure of a train could never hold up to that of flying overhead, it certainly wasn’t anything to scoff at.
Long, pristine drifts rolled over the landscape, their height gradually receding as they approached the river. An unstoppable child of the distant mountains, the water danced with deadly beauty as it cut straight through to the next cliff. There, the river became rapids, all too eager to meet the frothing edge of the world.
Finally, the waterfall itself came into view, where chaos became order. The current fell in a perfect unison, creating the illusion of a slow, lazy descent, as it disappeared into the mists below.
“I… I… … beautiful…” Night Flurry’s eyes were vacant, long lost in the waves.
I couldn’t help but smirk.
---
While Fetlock’s station was barely bigger than Ponyville’s and about as busy, it did have one thing spicing it up: decorations. Banners, flanked by more than an ample accompaniment of flags, streamers and balloons, bid us welcome.
A large, half-empty pamphlet stand waited by the furthest exit. Pinned to its side was a giant snowflake poster with a bright red arrow pointing out onto the street. Fun and Games, it promised.
And yet, despite the nigh-overwhelming show of festivity, my gaze was drawn to one of the station’s office windows. The blinds were drawn and shut, but I could make out enough about the large stallion’s silhouette that I could tell his muzzle was pointed my way.
A chill ran down my spine, the kind that went well beyond the normal discomfort I felt when someone took notice of me. Really, there could have been any number of reasons for a train station employee to be looking out the office window. I couldn’t say why, but something about that pony just didn’t sit right with me.
“Dusky! Flurry!” Blizzard Breeze’s voice pulled my attention back toward the platform exit. “Glad you could make it!”
As she cantered over, I took a moment to glance back at our mysterious observer. The window was empty.
“Oh, um, hello, Blizzard!” Night Flurry called back.
I frowned, resisting the urge to paw at the snow-dusted boards. It was probably nothing, but for the sake of my own sanity, I decided to keep an eye out. Better safe than sorry, after all. Perhaps I could let Night Flurry lead the way for a while.
“Hi, Blizzard.” I smiled and turned back to face her. “You weren’t waiting for us, were you?”
“Oh, no. Well, yes, but it’s also part of my job to oversee things. I just happened to check the station when the Ponyville trains came in,” Blizzard grinned.
With a short giggle, I nodded. “So I guess no guided tour for us, huh?”
“Sorry. I can walk you to the gate, though.”
“Sounds good.” I stole one more look at the empty office.
“Whoa, what happened to your wing?” Blizzard trotted around to Night Flurry’s bandaged side.
“I, u-um… uh…” Clutching his wing against his body, Night Flurry tried to sink into the floor.
With a sigh, I stepped in. “There was an accident involving alcohol and unicorn magic; he got caught in the blast.”
“That’s terrible.” Blizzard frowned. “It’s not permanent, is it?”
Night Flurry scuffed a hoof and looked away. “N-no, um, just can’t fly… c-can’t w-work...”
A grim expression passed over Blizzard’s face. “I hope that idiot paid.”
I nodded, “Me too.”
As annoyed at Night Flurry as I was, Merriweather and Starshadow were the real source of all the trouble. Just thinking of their treatment of Terra, I didn’t know whether to shudder harder with my head or my hindquarters. Regardless, I couldn’t say I’d have been sad if they’d been arrested.
Blizzard placed a hoof on Night Flurry’s shoulder. “But hey, you’re here, right? Don’t let it ruin your trip.”
Pepping up a little, Night Flurry nodded. “R-right. I-I’ll try.”
Blizzard led the way, glancing back as we left the station. “So, what did you think of the falls?”
“Awe-inspiring. It’s definitely among the biggest I’ve seen.”
Night Flurry stared off into space. “They were... breathtaking.”
The streets were a little busier, with several ponies and even a few griffons milling about. I gave them all a quick once over, but none of them big enough to be our mystery stallion.
While not as decoration-saturated as the station, the street still had its fair share of cheer. Each lamp post boasted a flag and the directional snowflake signs were frequent enough that even a foal couldn’t get lost.
As we turned onto another main road, Blizzard flashed us a grin. “Most beautiful thing you’ve seen all day?”
“Hmmm, probably.” I nodded. “I mean, the plains were pretty nice too, but the falls just give more of a sense of life.”
Night Flurry started, glancing back and forth between Blizzard and I. “Er, y-yeah… something like that.”
We stopped at the mouth of the street, where a couple of smooth ice columns rose up, stretching a massive banner overhead that read, ‘Fetlock Falls Winter Festival’.
“Cool.” Blizzard motioned beyond the arch. “So, the festival’s all around the town square. You can't really miss it. The knitting expo’s in the town hall. Anyway, I gotta get back to work. I’ll try to catch you on my next break.”
And with that she was gone, already disappearing into the clouds.
“Well, no use standing around out here.” I waved my hoof forward. “Let’s go.”
Red and white tents, just as advertised, greeted us. They crowded around the square in such number that, if I didn’t know any better, I’d almost have thought them the entire extent of the festival. But the flag-covered town hall was easy enough to pick out and somewhere in that sea of tents was the ice sculpture competition. Fun and games, indeed.
Night Flurry was already eying a couple of the booths, though he didn’t move, likely held down by the crushing pressure of choice. “So, um... where to first?”
“How about that one?” I motioned toward his closest pick.
A trio of milk bottle pyramids were spaced out along a long, wooden shelf. Two of the pyramids were awaiting assailants, while the third stood tall and implacable against the clumsy barrage of a couple giggling foals.
“You’re doing it wrong!” yelled the colt.
“Nuh, uh! You are!” the filly shot back.
With their snowball stockpile spent, they charged off into the crowd, laughing the whole way. I smirked, letting my gaze linger for just a moment.
“Step right up!” The carny, a tan unicorn stallion in a matching red and white toque and scarf set, flourished. “Knock over the bottles and win your very own Wonderbolt!”
He pointed a hoof at a second shelf, just below the bottles. An army of small, fully-uniformed Spitfire and Soarin plushes stared up from their cubby.
“O-oh, those are nice. I, um, g-guess I’ll try it,” Night Flurry said, eagerly dumping his bits onto the counter. He quivered as he tried to line up his first shot; I got the distinct feeling that even those foals had been calmer.
Whether through luck or skill, Night Flurry’s kick hit the snowball with perfect power. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of his aim; the ball whizzed over the majority of the pyramid, taking only the top bottle with it.
“Oh! That’s too bad! Good thing you’ve got two more shots!” the carny called out as he reset the bottle.
Without a word, Night Flurry lined himself up again, sticking his tongue out to the side as he concentrated. I stifled a giggle, amused that something so simple could dispel all that nervousness—if only for the moment.
The next kick was more precise, but lacking in speed. The pyramid merely wobbled a few times as the shot bounced off the centre and flopped to the ground.
The carny grinned. “Almost! You’ve totally got this! If not, you can always buy more balls!”
Night Flurry set up again, with a fervour that told me he might be getting just a little too much into it. He launched with all his might. This one had the power and nearly had the accuracy, but I was almost certain the unorthodox weighting behind the carnival bottles would leave at least one up.
I thought I caught a small twinkle of light as the snowball connected, but I couldn’t be certain. There was no chance for a second look; the pyramid imploded, collapsing into a total mess. Something about the way it fell looked a bit off, but I figured I must have just misjudged the way the bottles would react.
Blinking once, then twice, Night Flurry stopped to steady himself on the counter. “I-I won?”
“Looks like,” I said, flashing him a grin.
“Well, how about that? Did I tell ya or did I tell ya?” Leaning in close, the carny shook Night Flurry’s hoof. One of the Spitfires dislodged herself from the pile and flopped down in front of him. “Care to have another go? Build yourself a Wonderbolt armada?”
“U-um…” Night Flurry looked like he was stuck, wedged awkwardly between his nature and his newfound victory.
Seeing exactly what the carny was pulling, I sighed and stepped up beside Night Flurry. “While that sounds nice, we’ve still a whole festival left to see.
“O-oh, right. Um… y-yeah, maybe we could come back after.” Night Flurry shrunk down, a sheepish smile plastered across his lips.
“Maybe.” I turned to the carny, giving him a sly smile. “Besides, I’m sure all your friends will get our bits one way or another.”
“Hey, just so long as you’re having fun, right?” The carny’s expression didn’t even falter.
We returned to the aisle, letting the current of the crowd guide us for a while. From time to time, Night Flurry’s pace would slow, almost to a halt, as he tried to look at four different things at once. There were more than a couple times I was worried the crowd would just bowl him over.
Night Flurry looked at me, though when I met his gaze, he jerked, fumbling for something to say. “It's, um, a lot... b-bigger than I was expecting…”
I nodded. “I have to admit, at least for a town this small, that it’s surprised me too.”
Shrinking down again, he worked his jaw; this time, words escaped him. I was beginning to wonder just how long he was going to be stuck when his face lit up and he rushed over to one of the larger tents.
“Skee Ball!” he called out, a giant grin spreading across his face as he motioned me over.
A pair of long ramps with circular rings at the end took up the majority of the booth. What little remained was dedicated to the carny, her snowball stockpile and a shelf full of random Daring Do-themed knickknacks.
Without skipping a beat, Night Flurry bought a set of balls and kicked one up the ramp. It landed in the ring second-from-the-centre. He launched another not soon after, hitting the centre. He beamed over his shoulder at me.
“I haven't played this since I was a colt.”
I smiled back. “Looks like you haven’t lost your touch.”
“Yeah!” His grin only grew as rolled the next three snowballs, finishing with just under a perfect score.
“Congrats!” the carny said, passing him a small, crude blue figurine that looked vaguely like the Sapphire Stone.
Night Flurry practically bounced as he deposited the lookalike into his growing stash. “Dusky, you should try! It’s fun!”
“Guess it’s about as good a game as any,” I replied, turning to pay the carny. I couldn't say I had a favourite carnival game, not since long ago, before I found out they were all rigged. However, if I just approached the games by writing off the bits as lost for a bit of goofy entertainment, they were still enjoyable enough.
I let loose on my first snowball, sending it on a fast track to the very centre. Unfortunately, fast was just a little too fast and it overshot, deflecting off an outer ring and settling into the third hole from the centre.
“Good shot! just don't put so much force behind it, it's all about control,” Night Flurry said, bouncing with the excitement of a younger self. His words were obvious advice, of course, but I simply nodded, not wanting to risk chasing him back into his shell.
My next ball was another perfectly-aligned shot, but just a tad lacking in force. It hit the middle ring head on and bounced down into the gutter.
“Aw, you were robbed. That should have gone in.” Night Flurry frowned rather deeply.
I nodded again. I might have objected to how worked up he was getting if the shot hadn’t been a gutter ball; that was just embarrassing. I redoubled my efforts and scored a second-from-the-middle, followed by two middle shots.
“Congrats!” the carny called again and shoved a piece of paper at me.
As I took my prize, I realized it wasn't a piece of paper, but a Daring Do cutie mark sticker. It was the cheap kind, where the adhesive would barely stick a day, the compass rose was the wrong shade of everything and the ink had run in random places. To put it another way: it made Night Flurry's statuette look like a high-class prize.
But my assessment was only reflex, another quality of my father’s that had rubbed off on me, fading as quickly as it came. Beneath my scrutiny was the roiling realization that this thing was designed for some foal to slap on her flank and pretend she was a hero. With a frown, I quickly stuffed the sticker into my flight satchel.
“You’re right, that was fun,” I said, playing up my smile. “So what now?”
“Um, I…” Night Flurry’s stomach gurgled for him. “I’m g-getting a bit hungry.”
While it was barely halfway to supper time, between the train ride and the festival, we’d cleanly missed lunch. I couldn’t really blame him if he hadn’t eaten as late as I. Hopefully, he hadn’t waited too long to tell me.
“Light breakfast?” I asked.
“B-breakfast? I, um, d-didn’t have one.” Night Flurry scuffed the ground.
With a sigh, I shook my head. “That’s not good. Let’s go find a food stand.”
I trotted down the aisle, sniffing and scanning for the telltale signs of carnival food.
“S-sorry, I’m not u-used to daytime routine,” he mumbled, trailing just a little behind.
My nose led us, not to a stand, but a quiet nook. There, a couple hole-in-the-wall diners stood side-by-side, each trying to look more enticing than the other. Personally, I wouldn’t have minded the sandwich shop, but among the typical event goer, I think the pasta diner had a distinct advantage.
As if on cue, Night Flurry’s gaze fell squarely on the pasta diner.
I was about to ask him if he’d like to eat there when I caught a flicker in the shadows behind him. It came from behind a knitting expo sign, the upright kind that was just barely taller than a pony. Hardly had I time to tilt my head, when a cloaked figure slowly, ominously stepped out and raised a hoof toward Night Flurry.
The figure’s stature was too short to be the mystery stallion, but I didn’t care. I lunged forward, throwing the weight of my body into the soft section of its side. “Look ou—oof!”
The mare let out a cry and staggered, even though it felt like I’d just slammed into a brick wall. She fell to her knees, cloak catching the corner of the sign and pulling itself off.
I stared at the large, armoured red mare and her shamelessly wide grin. “What the… Merriweather?!”
“Hi, there~.” Merriweather looked up at me as she stood, that stupid grin still plastered on her face.
“What in Tartarus is wrong with you!?” I narrowed my eyes as anger overtook my fear, burning it away. “Do you get some sort of sick kick out of messing with people!?”
Even in that state, I knew she meant us no harm; if she had, I doubt we would have seen it coming. And yet, that almost made it worse. That she would be so flippant and unthinking as to consider popping out like some back-alley mugger to be an appropriate prank was quite unsettling.
“Whoa, whoa, hold on! It’s not like that!” Her eyes widened, a twinkle of uncertainty escaping. “I’ve been helping!”
I stared. Such audacity went beyond question; the only appropriate reaction was a deadpan, “Helping.”
“Yeah! Helping! With games and… stuff! Like games.” Merriweather scratched the back of her head. “‘Cause I’m… y’know, sorry about the other night.”
A frown crept down my face as I processed just what Merriweather was admitting. “Let me get this straight: you thought you could make up for crippling Night Flurry by following him around a festival and secretly cheating for him?”
“Yep!” She grinned widely. I almost wanted to kick her.
“And you blew your cover to grab him because?” I tilted my head, dubious that whatever ‘logic’ she was using was actually logic.
“How else was he supposed to know who was helping him?” she answered, hastily continuing when a blink was my only response. “Oh, and hugs. Healing hugs~. Those always help~.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
“W-wait, that means…” Night Flurry looked sadly at his Spitfire plush. “I d-didn’t earn this. I should t-take it back.”
“Oh, come on! It’s not like they don’t cheat too!” With a wave of her hoof, Merriweather slid up beside Night Flurry. “I was just evening the odds~.”
I watched Merriweather carefully. Like Pinkie Pie, her jovial, seemingly oblivious nature was just the surface. The million-bit question was ‘What’s underneath?’ Especially when this particular pony was a trained soldier.
Night Flurry frowned. “Y-you’re not just making excuses, are you, M-Merri?”
Two trains of thought grabbed my brain and pulled it in different directions. Does he really not know?And ‘Merri’? When did they get all buddy, buddy?
“Hey, I’m not lying, just ask Dusky. She knows what’s up.” Merriweather fluttered her eyes. “Right, Dusky~?”
With a sigh, I shook my head. “You’re both right. She may be making excuses, but she isn’t lying. These games are skewed to put more bits into the festival’s pockets.”
“O-oh. Um…” A conflicted look washed over Night Flurry’s face as he shuffled the Spitfire plush to and from his flight satchel with his wing.
“Also, when did you start calling her ‘Merri”? I tilted my head. It was easy enough to guess that she probably visited him and buttered him up, but why guess when the truth is right there? Assumptions are just too easy to get comfortable—and consequently, into trouble—with.
“Oh, um, s-she came to visit…” Night Flurry answered, rubbing one forehoof against the ankle of the other.
I watched him for a few moments. It was certainly a new habit, but I wondered if I wasn't just reading into it a bit too much.
“And you talked about the... incident?”
Night Flurry nodded. “Y-yeah, she, um, a-apologized.”
“Yep, sure did~!” Merriweather grinned. “I’ll even be sorry for the rest of the day. Let me show you around, I totally already scoped the place out!”
She meandered off, headed away from the restaurants.
Seizing the opportunity, I slipped over to Night Flurry and whispered in his ear, “That’s how it really went down? She didn't bully you into forgiving her, did she?”
“N-no, she's... I'm o-okay with Merri,” he hastily answered. I held his gaze for a bit longer and while he shrunk down, he didn't retract his statement.
“Well, okay, if you say so. If she's going to be like this, it's probably best that we keep her where we can see her, anyway.” I turned back toward Merriweather. “Hey! Merriweather! You're going away from the food!”
Merriweather trotted back much more quickly than than she'd departed. “Oh! You're hungry! Right. Okay, there's sandwiches and pasta.”
She pointed to each of the restaurants in the alley. “Oh, and there are totally other places to eat. They’re just, um... somewhere. Yeah! Somewhere. But you guys are totally up for sandwiches and pasta, right~?”
And there was that fluttering of her eyes again.
Resisting the urge to put my hoof to my forehead, I sighed. “You're such a good guide.”
“I am, aren't I~?”
---
The diner was much like the ones I favoured on my travels. That is, the ones that provided the perfect compromise of speed, cost and taste. Not that I can’t enjoy fine dining, but when it comes to food, I’m a simple mare whose taste buds don’t demand much.
I watched Merriweather as she scanned the dining area. Unless she had a thing for checkered red and white tablecloths, whatever was so interesting about a room full of unoccupied square tables and worn cushions escaped me.
“Huh. Nopony here.” She frowned.
“O-oh, is that bad?” Night Flurry glanced around about as fruitlessly as myself.
“Mmmmmaybe not~,” Merriweather replied as her eyes flitted over to an approaching waiter. She trotted up to him, meeting him well beyond the ‘Please wait to be seated.’ sign. “Hey, can we have that table?”
She pointed over to a table that had to be about the farthest point from the kitchen as possible. While it was near the windows, the drawn blinds made it kind of pointless and the angle to the door meant it wasn’t even the best place to see newcomers from. Although, I did have to admit that it would place the majority of the dining area on one side, allowing for easy monitoring.
“Sure thing, ma’am. Plenty of space to go ‘round.” The waiter smiled. “This way, please.”
As we sat down at our table, I raised an eyebrow. “Why this one?”
Merriweather simply grinned. “Oh, you’ll see~.”
“Here you are.” The waiter set a menu in front of each of us. “If you’re interested in the soup of the day, it’s cream of broccoli. While you’re deciding on that, care for a drink?”
“Water, please,” I answered.
“Wi—” Merriweather paused, her mouth still half-open. Her eyes darted over to Night Flurry. “—water. Water too.”
“U-um, tea, p-please.”
Well, there’s one surprise and one not surprise. Maybe she’s more serious about this than I thought.
“All right, two waters, one tea. Back in a jiffy!” With another smile, the waiter turned and made for the kitchen; a kitchen that just so happened to be a straight line away, giving us a good ten-second look at his butt.
Merriweather nudged me and nodded, her grin widening.
Shaking my head, I turned my attention to my menu. Everything, from the fettuccine alfredo to the rose penne, sounded delicious. It also sounded like something that would put me into a food coma for the rest of the day. I ended up settling for a small plate of spaghetti with a side salad.
Merriweather and Night Flurry didn’t hold back, each ordering a jumbo-sized pasta. I was a bit skeptical at first—I mean, neither are proportionally that much bigger than me—but then I remembered that I’d seen even smaller ponies shovel down twice as much in those food-eating contests.
The, thankfully, surprisingly brief wait, was filled with awkwardly commenting on how tasty each others’ dishes sounded; this was followed by me watching Merriweather, still uncertain what to think of her, and she, wearing that stupid grin again as she telekinetically twirled her fork in the air.
I was all too happy when the aroma of dueling pasta sauces reached my nostrils. With a half-bow, the waiter left us with our food, followed by another ten seconds of stallion butt. However, I soon learned the waiter’s rump wasn’t the only thing Merriweather had chosen this table for.
The door clunked shut and a pair of mares entered. The waiter guided them past right us, to one of the farther tables, giving us a triple whammy of butts.
Merriweather looked up, her muzzle caked in sauce as her eyes came to rest squarely on the mares’ flanks. She licked her lips and turned to me, grinning ear-to-ear.
“Didja get a good look at that~?”
With a sigh, I shook my head. “As good a look as I needed.”
“Mmmm~.” Her eyes continued to followed the mares, lingering long after they’d sat down. “Well, if you’re interested, I’m sure I can convince them to let you in on the action too~.”
For just a moment, as I wished so hard to have Terra’s more honest form of ‘subtlety’ back, I found myself sympathizing with Starshadow.
“I’ll pass.”
“Aw, you’re no fun~.”
“Just eat your food.”
Night Flurry was eating with growing gusto, keeping his eyes to the plate as though he hadn’t noticed a single thing. Too bad his ears were pointed right at us.
“Sooo… Merriweather, what else do you do in your spare time?” I gave her a meaningful look.
“Oh, the usual knightly things Sis’ and I do, like training, spellcraft and knitting.”
I blinked. “Knitting.”
“Yep! Soft and warm is good for traveling, among other things~. That’s why you wear that scarf, isn’t it?” Merriweather looked down at my scarf, pausing just long enough to make sure I saw.
I stared back, trying to decide if she was just being silly or if she could tell I had a wingblade tucked inside. Maybe both. After all, lazy as she seemed, combat was her profession; she probably osmosed enough experience that she could see it if she looked hard enough.
“This is sewn, but yes, I do agree that clothing can be quite helpful for travel.”
“Sewing is like knitting, right? Right?” Merriweather fluttered her eyes.
“You just want to go to the knitting expo, don’t you?” I sighed. Not that I had anything against knitting, but I was a bit annoyed that even after the whole butt-staring shenanigans, she was beating around the bush about something so innocuous.
“Maaaaybe~.”
I glanced at Night Flurry, who looked like he had something on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t squeeze it past his squirming lips. I decided to give him a little push. “What do you think? Knitting sound interesting to you?”
“O-oh, yes! Y-yes, everyone likes kn-knitting!” he blurted out.
I raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. I guess it’s decided, then.”
---
We were barely ten seconds away from the restaurant nook when Merriweather broke into a gallop.
“Hey, wait up!” I called after her.
But instead of turning down the road toward the town hall, she went straight for the nearest game booth. Every inch of the back wall was lined with inflated balloons with only nominal room set aside for the baskets of prizes and darts.
“What happened to knitting?” I raised an eyebrow.
“We can do both! We’ve got time!” Merriweather grinned. “Besides, who doesn’t like darts?”
“Those of us without claws or magic to throw them?” Not that I couldn’t throw things with my mouth. Ever since I was a filly, I’d found chucking rocks into the nearest body of water to be a surprisingly good way of relieving boredom. But darts are different. They require a specific kind of precision and motion that’s very awkward to do with the mouth.
“Pfff, c’mon! It’s not that hard! I’ll use my mouth too!”
As Merriweather bought her darts and lined up her first throw, it quickly became apparent just why she had insisted on playing. She threw all five in what was almost succession, not only popping every balloon, but doing so without so much as a twinkle from her horn. I tried to take note of her technique, but between her speed and my surprise, I caught very little.
She turned and bowed. “Next up!”
I shook my head. “After that?”
“Aw, but it’s fun! Please? I’ll pay for you!”
“Okay, okay, fine. Under one condition: no playing over our shoulder.” I gave her a hard stare.
“What? If that’s what you really want…”
I glanced at Night Flurry, who opened his mouth several times before he finally settled for a nod. “Yeah.”
I took up my first dart and as I struggled to position it between my teeth, I found myself wishing I was already finished. The motion was as awkward as I remembered and while every dart at least hit a balloon, I only got three to pop. By the end, I’d gotten into something of a groove, though I wasn’t willing to spend the bits for another go.
“Ooo, not bad!” Merriweather nodded at the mess I’d left behind. “Hey, Night! You’re next!”
“U-um, I don’t know…”
“But it’s free~.” She leaned in close enough that I thought he was going to back away.
I trotted up beside him. “It’s the fastest way to get her to stop pestering you.”
“O-okay.” He grabbed his first dart, but he was so shaky, he lobbed it right into the ground. He stared.
“Don’t worry about that one. It’s harder than it looks,” I said as reassuringly as I could.
The second somehow managed to miss all the balloons, pinning itself to the corkboard between four of them.
“Getting closer!” Merriweather called, directing a raised eyebrow at me.
I shook my head. No need to give him more victories he wasn’t comfortable with.
Night Flurry wound up and threw with all his might. I wasn’t sure where he was aiming, but his dart hit a balloon dead on; it imploded with a satisfying pop. His surprise quickly grew into a wide grin.
“Woo!” Merriweather pumped her forehoof.
I think the excitement got to him after that, as while his last two darts went where he was aiming, they just didn’t have the technique to do more than bounce off the surface of the balloons.
With all the games played out, Merriweather was the only one to receive a prize. It was a Daring Do plush, about the same size as Night Flurry’s Spitfire and one the manufacturers actually bothered to get the colours right on. The shirt and hat were a bit deformed, but asking for more from a festival prize would have been pushing things.
Merriweather held out it out in her magic. “Here. For being such good sports~.”
“I-I, um, never got into D-Daring Do,” Night Flurry said as he stared at the plush.
I blinked. Given the books’ popularity with the foals of my generation, it had barely crossed my mind that he wouldn’t have read them. “Really? You should check the books out sometime. It’s a good series.”
“O-oh, I’ll k-keep that in mind.”
“I guess I’ll take her, then.” On a whim, I tucked Daring into my scarf, such that she was peeking out. Now she was ready for a proper adventure—or at least as much of one as a quest for the knitting hall could be.
“Oooo, that was fun! We should do another! Like... that one!” Merriweather pointed a forehoof at the back flap of the closest tent, which would have been pretty much nondescript if not for the tall plank holding a bell high in the sky.
“Um… w-what is it?” Night Flurry tilted his head.
“Only one way to find out~!” With a grin, Merriweather took off, zipping around the front corner of the booth.
“Wait, Merriweather!” I began, but she was gone. Shaking my head, I sighed. “Just look up.”
Night Flurry stared after her. “She’s, um… I-it’s like w-watching a foal, i-isn’t it?”
I couldn’t help but giggle, especially when he’d done much the same earlier. “Maybe a little. I think there’s a bit of that inside all of us, though. Come on, let’s catch up.”
The Test Your Strength was, thankfully, not the unicorn hammer variation. Instead, it had a vertical target, set up at just the right height to make bucking it as awkward as possible without being particularly obvious. At least for the average pony, anyway; with her extra height, I doubted Merriweather would even notice.
Prizes, marked for different heights, included what looked like a flimsy plastic Daring Do pith helmet, a similarly cheap Mare-Do-Well hat and mask combination and a larger version of my Daring plush.
An intense flapping of wings, about the flight equivalent of a gallop, pulled my eyes skyward. Blizzard came barreling down, sending up a swirling, mini-storm of powder as she landed.
“Whew! Sorry I took so long. Weather went crazy for a bit there and my team was off bumming around,” she said, swatting away the lingering snow with a wing.
“Don’t worry about it. Not like we had a schedule to keep.” I shook my head and smiled, glancing from Blizzard to Merriweather. “Besides, we’ve been pretty… distracted, anyway.”
“Huh.” Blizzard followed my gaze to Merriweather, who had already begun flirting with the carny. “I didn’t know you were meeting up with somepony.”
“It wasn’t planned. It just kind of happened.”
Blizzard nodded. “A pleasant surprise, then.”
“Y-yeah, um, p-pleasant.” Night Flurry looked away.
“Good news, everypony.” Merriweather grinned. “He’s going to let us play three for the price of two!”
“Is he now?” Blizzard glanced at the carny.
The carny shrunk down a bit. “Uh, yes. They look like real fine ladies and gentlecolt with an appreciation for Test Your Strength.”
Blizzard nodded. “Good eye.”
“Before we do that... Blizzard, this is Merriweather, Merriweather, Blizzard Breeze.” I pointed a forehoof from one to the other and back. “Blizzard here is in charge of festival organization. Merriweather is a, uh, traveling knight.”
“Traveling knight?” Blizzard raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not planning on doing ‘knightly’ things over here.”
Merriweather casually waved a hoof. “Nah, not really my style~.”
“And what is your style?” Blizzard stared intently.
“You could say I do requests per pony~.” Merriweather shrugged, though her eyes hardened for just a moment. “What I don’t do is the whole crusade bit.”
“Hmmm, so long as you don’t cause trouble, we’ll get along just fine.” Blizzard nodded, tension escaping her muscles.
Night Flurry and I exchanged glances. I shook my head, mouthing 'later' at him.
Misguided as Merriweather was in her execution, she seemed to making a genuine effort to be a better pony. Bringing up the bar at this point would almost inevitably cause a confrontation, which risked turning all that effort on its head.
Still, Blizzard deserved to know. I figured I could pull her aside once Night Flurry and Merriweather were a bit more preoccupied.
“Gentlecolts first~?” Merriweather grinned.
Night Flurry shrank. “M-me? W-why?”
“Because we made you go last in the other game.” Merriweather nodded as though she’d just dispensed the sagest of knowledge.
“O-oh, um, th-thanks?” Night Flurry shuffled over to the target. “S-so, I, um, kick it?”
“Yep. Give it a good old-fashioned buck,” I said.
“Crush it beneath the power of your hooves! Work those thighs~!” Merriweather giggled.
“R-right… um, here goes!” Turning and closing his eyes, Night Flurry wound up his hind legs in the most exaggerated, less-than-ideal way I’d ever seen. His kick was completely off-target—at least had he been aiming in front of him. His awkward, almost-overextension struck the target right on, and with impressive power to boot. That he proceeded to nearly fall on his face was tempered by the fact that the ringer cleared the first prize line.
Merriweather whistled. “Not bad~.”
“R-really?” Night Flurry smiled shyly.
“You did get a prize,” Blizzard said. “Can’t argue with that.”
His face lit up. “Oh, w-wow.”
“Your turn, Dusky~.” Merriweather nudged at my neck.
“Heh, okay, just don’t expect anything spectacular,” I replied as I traded places with Night Flurry. With as much travel as I did, plus the lifting I used to do around the wagon, one might think I’d be pretty strong. However, I’m not a particularly big mare and unlike my mother, am decidedly not stronger than I look; so much so that she adapted my training to focus heavily on vital points.
I lined up the shot, the awkward, odd-angled motion just different enough from practice that I was almost sure that I was going to faceplant.
“Hiya!” I shouted as I struck, feeling the target buckle satisfyingly under my hooves. Glancing back, I caught the ringer falling just shy of the first prize line.
“U-um, that looked p-pretty g-good,” Night Flurry said, the pain in his eyes telling me he wasn’t sure whether he should be reassuring me or not. He quickly found the snow more interesting to look at.
“Yeah, it was.” I smiled. “I told you not to expect anything spectacular.”
“Pfff, you’re so modest~.” Merriweather grinned. “I bet if Sis’ were here, she’d be going off about how it’s not about how powerful your hips are, it’s about how you use them~.”
“In those exact words?” I stifled a giggle.
“Oh, she’d probably use stuffier language, but it’s all the same, right~?” She wiggled her butt.
Blizzard smiled slyly. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
“Well, looks like I’m up. Goodie!” Merriweather bounded over.
As we traded places, my eyes fell upon the booth opposite us and its patron. Between his large stature and navy blue train attendant uniform, the stallion gave me pause. His dark brown tail flicked back and forth along his red-brown coat as he casually kicked snowballs at an apple basket. Every so often, he’d glance behind himself, though he never looked our way for long, if at all. I wondered if I was becoming paranoid, jumping at shadows. Still, at least physically, he fit the mystery stallion’s profile.
Despite Merriweather’s extra height, I could already tell from the way she was winding up her hindquarters that her strike wasn’t going to do much better. Her hooves impacted with a crack, but they were off-target with the ringer coming up even lower than my attempt.
Merriweather shrugged as she trotted back to us. “Eh, never been much of a kicker. That’s more Sis’s thing.”
I nodded absently, keeping one eye on the train stallion. “I gathered.”
It was then that I felt something press down against my mane, gripping the top of my head. I reacted instantly, reflexively flaring my wings and spinning to wing-slap my assailant as I turned to face him. My follow-up hoof strike stopped an inch from Night Flurry’s face.
Merriweather whistled, though I hardly even heard her. "Nice moves~."
A stupid, sheepish grin, the kind that would make Merriweather proud, was plastered across Night Flurry’s face. He drifted backward, shrinking under my gaze, and averting his eyes to something above me.
I looked up. It was one of those cheap Daring Do pith helmets, his prize from the Test Your Strength. Warmth flooded my cheeks as I narrowed my eyes. "Did you really just do that after what happened with Merriweather?"
“I.. I, um... wanted to s-surprise you.” He fidgeted with his forehooves.
I shook my head, trying to keep my racing heart from sending me off into a rant. “Well, you surprised me, all right.”
A realization hit me and my eyes snapped back toward the basket toss booth. Perhaps if I could gauge the stallion’s reaction, I could make something of this mini-heart attack. The booth was, of course, empty now. I scanned the crowd, though the result was just as fruitless.
Night Flurry laughed. "W-well... um, mission accomplished?”
I forced a smirk. “Haha, yeah… real funny. Just don’t do it again.”
“O-oh…” He looked down before blurting out, “Um, s-so what next?”
“Have you been to the knitting expo yet?” Blizzard asked.
“That was the original plan,” I replied, still trying to keep an eye on the crowd as I motioned toward the Test Your Strength. “But like I said, we’ve been distracted.”
Blizzard laughed. “Then I’ll show you the short route. Maybe we can get you there before it closes.”
“One can only hope.” I smirked.
We followed Blizzard through the crowd at a brisk pace, the kind that gave Night Flurry and Merriweather less time to fixate on games that might pull them away.
I turned to Merriweather. “So, where is Starshadow, anyway?”
“Sis’? She, ah, wouldn’t have approved.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t even be here myself if I hadn’t snuck away~.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really? What’s so bad about it? Does your knight code forbid celebration?”
“No, it’s not that. She likes festivals, but she just gets so focused and…” Merriweather’s mirth wavered for just a split-second. “It’s complicated.”
I nodded, having not prepared for a serious response. My first instinct was to push harder, to find out more, but reason held me back. Whatever the issue was, I was certain it had to do with Merriweather’s honour—or lack thereof, if Starshadow as to be believed; such fine details were not fit for public discussion.
As we continued on in silence, a breeze swept through the square, heralding the night’s approach. In fact, the sun was already clinging to the roofs of the buildings, holding out for one last hour of light. I found myself wondering just when that had happened; somehow, despite all the unexpected shenanigans, I’d been having far too much fun.
I began to lament how comparatively little time we had left in the day, but all that dissolved as the ice sculptures, or at least the edge of the competition area, came into view. The sun hit them just right, illuminating the larger pieces and sending sparkles rippling over every surface. A Daring Do statue caught it particularly well, the light enveloping her in a heroic aura as she leapt toward the road.
Shame we were kept at hoof’s length by a gaudy red and white carnival fence.
“W-wow…” Night Flurry stopped dead.
“Ooo, snazzy~.” Merriweather strolled on by, a casualness that made me wonder just how grand the works of Ostfriesen must be. Of course, the thought had also crossed my mind that she just might not care, but the allure of a foreign country was much stronger.
“The sculptors have been working pretty hard all day, but most of them aren’t quite done. You going to be back tomorrow?” Blizzard asked.
Upon closer inspection, many of the statues had small, unfinished features. The largest, though not particularly obvious, was Daring’s platform: she was leaping from a smooth, nondescript block of ice. While it was something that could reasonably happen during her adventures, it would probably just come off as lazy in a competition.
“Wish I could, but I’ve only got one day off. Gonna have to sleep the afternoon if I want to be able-bodied for my shift.”
Night Flurry shrunk down, hoof digging a rut into the snow.
“Huh, that’s too bad. Wish that idiot hadn’t messed things up for you.” Blizzard narrowed her eyes at nopony in particular.
I glanced at Merriweather, who was busy staring up at a half-carved replica of Rainbow Dash in flight. Or rather, she was pretending to. She was a lot subtler than Night Flurry, but even a single, slightly-angled ear can be a tell.
“Yeah, well, I’ve still been enjoying myself, so no sense dwelling on it.”
“Sure, if you say so. Want pictures?”
“If it’s not too much trouble.”
Blizzard shrugged. “Nah, we’ll need some for the paper, anyway.”
We came to a crossroad. One turn led up to the closed gate of the ice sculpture area. Another stretched on for a couple dozen more feet, but I could readily make out the stoney, rectangular town hall in all its flag-flying glory.
Stepping to the side, Blizzard pointed down the road. “Well, there it is. Just head straight and you’ll be there in no time.”
“You’re not coming?” I asked.
Blizzard shook her head. “I need to make sure the sculptures are all set for the night. I’ll catch up with you later.”
And with that, she was gone again.
“What are we waiting for? There’s knitting to be had~!” Merriweather called as she charged down the road.
“Um…” Night Flurry looked to me yet again.
I shrugged. “We’re here; might as well.”
---
The inside of the hall was about as crammed with tables as the outside was with booths. I suspected that the only reason there wasn’t more was because they’d run out of town hall.
Scarves, hats and shawls of all shapes and sizes collaborated to form thick, wooly tablecloths over every surface. Fighting against their reign were colourful signs, boasting such deals as ‘Buy two, get one free!’ or claiming their wool to be high quality imports from one far-off country or another.
As Merriweather darted from table to table, it became increasingly clear that there weren’t enough of her to take in all the things she wanted to at once. Of course, if she started duplicating herself, I’d be headed for the hills; as much as I like Pinkie Pie, she’d once found a way to copy herself and Ponyville as a whole spent a month cleaning up all the damage the other ‘Pinkies’ caused.
“Mmmm, so soft~.” Merriweather nuzzled into a wide, red scarf. “I’ll take it!”
“W-wow, um… she really l-likes knitting.” Night Flurry stared, Merriweather having already made three more purchases by the time he finished his sentence.
I nodded, letting a smile creep up my lips. “We all have our interests. Some are just simpler than others.”
“I-I know, b-but I… I guess I can’t th-think of knitting as a very kn-knightly thing.”
Raising an eyebrow, I gave Night Flurry a sideways glance. “People are more than their job. For instance, I like Daring Do, which has nothing to do with weather. And surely you must have something else you like.”
“U-um, well, there’s t-tea…” He tapped his hooves together. “I, um, m-make my own.”
“There you go.”
We followed in Merriweather’s wake and although my enthusiasm paled by comparison, I still found myself admiring each work. While I had no experience with the actual act of knitting, I’d spent enough time sewing to have a general appreciation for just how much effort went into a single garment.
As the shopping spree continued, I found my attention fading. Not for lack of interest, mind, but because I was growing increasingly sluggish. A yawn escaped my lips.
“T-tired?” Night Flurry asked.
“Getting there. I think it might be time to head back.”
“Um, o-okay. S-sorry…”
I shook my head and trotted over to Merriweather, who was now surrounded by a floating ring of knitting. “Hey, Merriweather. We’re thinking about going home. You coming?”
“Huh?” The knitting parted just enough for me to see her eyes. “Oh, no, there’s still so much to see. You two go on ahead~.”
She waggled her eyebrows and winked.
I rolled my eyes. “See you later.”
---
The festival was still bustling as we left its icy gate behind, sounds fading into the background until all we could hear was the snow crunching beneath our hooves. The sun was completely gone now, the moon doing its best to assist the street lamps as it loomed over the empty streets.
While I found it a bit odd that there was no traffic at all, I figured it was just that weird time of night when it was too late for new arrivals, but too early for the night crowd to be departing. And besides, after the day’s excitement, a slower pace was a welcome change.
I smiled. “I'd almost forgotten what peace and quiet is like.”
Night Flurry nodded. “So many ponies a-and then um... Merri. She's f-fun and all, but, um, this is n-nice. Th-thanks again… for c-covering and c-coming with me. I d-don’t think I c-could have done this on my o-own.”
“Hey, it’s what us shift workers and friends do.”
“S-still... I appreciate it.” He worked his mouth as he stared ahead, chewing his thoughts. “Y-you know... I was really nervous about today.”
“Really? Why?”
“I-I didn't know if I'd be able to, um, r-relax with all th-those ponies around. A-and then my wing and I… I j-just really wanted it to be a good day.”
“Well, I’m glad—” I stopped mid-step, my attention drawn to the shadows as something moved in a nearby alleyway.
“What is it?” Night Flurry cocked his head.
A large stallion stumbled out into the street. He wore a tattered cloak, but it barely even reached his cutie mark, nevermind his head. Even under the pale light, I could tell that his coat was red-brown and his mane a dark brown. He lumbered about like a drunkard, but something didn’t feel right. As he reached the middle of the street and turned to face us, it all became clear.
I’d seen his face before, years ago. For just a moment, I was there again. Frantic shouting echoed down the halls. Silent Vigil trying to pull me away, toward the rear exit. Two others were holding their ground, watching our backs. The doors burst open and I saw him, saw his face, as he crashed into one of the guards’ sides.
He was no drunk. He was Cartel.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” he slurred around a grin, bobbing here and there on his muscles. “A pretty little mare."
“O-oh, excuse us sir, we're just o-on our way to the train s-station.” Night Flurry took a step forward.
Damnnit, Night Flurry.
“Shut up, boy! I ain't talkin ta you!” snapped the thug, barely glancing Night Flurry’s way.
Night Flurry’s jaw hung for a moment, as though he had been slapped, but he quickly drew himself up, eyes narrowing.”W-well, I'm afraid we're travelling t-together and we have to be on our way.”
The thug laughed. “Say, why don't you ditch this sorry excuse for a stallion and let me show you a good time?”
I eyed the thug up and down, worry creeping down my spine. The way he was posturing, he was either overconfident or had some buddies waiting in the shadows. With the latter more likely, I needed to buy some time to look, to find them. “And if I say no?”
Night Flurry drew himself even taller, edging toward the thug.
Damnnit, Night Flurry, stop letting him draw you in.
Barely audible steps pulled my ears back. I reined them in, letting them angle just enough for me to tell where the sounds were coming from. Two silhouettes played against the wall. Sloppy. And yet, we were the ones surrounded and outnumbered.
Up! Go up! my mind shouted. My eyes flicked up, where the skies were clear and the roofs too low to properly conceal anyone. Normally, it would have been sound advice; assuming the other two were pegasi, it would have at least evened up the odds. Except… my eyes fell on Night Flurry, on his bandaged wing.
And still it urged me to go, to fly away and save myself. But I couldn’t. Even if it was me they wanted, they knew he was with me. Best case scenario, they’d beat him within an inch of his life until he’d told them everything he knows. Worst case, well… I didn’t want to think about that. No one would be left behind tonight. Not because of me.
I fought against all instinct, standing my ground. What I was about to do was crazy, but there was no ‘safe’ in this scenario. I lowered my head, wrapping my lips around the Daring plush’s helmet.
The thug smirked. “Then maybe you just need a little... persuasion.”
Night Flurry widened his stance, pawing at the ground. “I don't think the lady is particularly interested. Why not just head on home?”
He wasn’t even shaking, like he’d been waiting for this moment. He hadn’t learned a damned thing. If we live through this, we are going to have words.
The thug laughed, pulling himself tall as his act melted into a sadistic smile. “You think you can take me, boy?”
“If… if you don’t back down, then yes, you leave me no choice.”
It was almost time. I just had to let them get a little closer.
The thug laughed again. “Lemme think... 'ow about no!”
Night Flurry lowered himself into a rough fighting stance. “Well, I don't intend to back down either.”
Now!
I whipped my head, launching Daring somewhere just behind Night Flurry. It was all guesswork, but better to try than do nothing. I didn’t have time to watch, barely dropping down in time to avoid my own attacker.
However, the “Agh!” that echoed down the street told me all I needed to know.
Two hind legs flew over my head, a fortunate error on my part. I’d predicted a lunge, where getting low would have sent my opponent sprawling. From my awkward position, I could only manage a half-buck, but with his lower parts exposed, that was all I needed. A pained squeak escaped his lips as my hooves found home.
As my attacker crumpled to the ground, I leapt forward, hoping I’d be fast enough to intercept Night Flurry’s. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Night Flurry already scuffling with the large thug. I didn’t like banking on whatever fighting ability he had, but there was no way I was winning this on my own.
I spotted the Daring plush first, which was just a few feet from the second, smaller stallion thug. He also wore a cloak, but it was a much better fit, even concealing his face. He stumbled forward, making something of a beeline for Night Flurry.
The smaller thug never saw me coming and I slammed clean into his side. He gasped as it collapsed, toppling under my full weight. I wasted no time bringing down my hindquarters, relentlessly planting them into his battered side. Flaring my wings, I laid them and my forehooves into his face. He could barely even get his own hooves up to shield himself.
I almost felt bad, but when it comes to a real fight, there’s no place for holding back; I didn’t let up until he lay bloodied and motionless.
With not a moment to lose, I looked up, expecting my first opponent to be getting up by now. I was just in time to see the brass horseshoe blazing toward my face. I ducked as best I could and I felt the Daring Do helmet press against my head. With a sickening crack, the helmet gave way as the strike continued through to my forehead.
I yelped as I half-fell, half-rolled away from my opponent. The shadowy blur pursued, once again sending a brass-covered forehoof my way. A quick backstep put me just out of reach, though the barehoof swipe that followed clipped my jaw.
Paying the taste of copper little mind, I seized the opportunity to swing round and make a semi-blind buck. My hooves glanced off of something unexpectedly soft. Even if I’d missed my mark, the thug’s gurgle told me I’d gotten what I wanted.
Righting myself, I hopped back a few feet, digging into my scarf and drawing my wingblade. I whispered the magic word and my wing tingled as the blade affixed itself.
I shook my head until my vision finally cleared, revealing my scowling, limping opponent.
He charged, which is exactly what I wanted.
I answered his charge, sidestepping just enough to put us out of forehoof range of each other. As we passed, I brought my wing down, carving an ‘X’ into his thigh. He screeched, buckling just a bit as his momentum nearly carried him to the ground.
We stared at each other for several moments. With his leg as crippled as it was, I knew the next charge would be his last.
But to my surprise, he turned tail and ran, hobbling into the closest alley.
Part of me wished I could have finished it, to keep him from reporting back to his boss and the trouble that would doubtlessly bring down the road.
“Hey!” Night Flurry called, galloping past.
“No! Stop!”
He screeched to a halt. To be frank, I was impressed that he could move with such energy when he was bleeding from a dozen various cuts. From where I was standing, it was a miracle he didn’t get completely clobbered by that larger thug.
“Don’t… don’t chase. There could be more.” I glanced around. “The other one, where did he go?”
“He’s right—” Night Flurry’s hoof fell on a deep, empty rut in the snow. “Huh? He’s… he’s gone!”
My eyes flitted back to where I’d downed my first opponent: he was gone too. “Damn, we need to move, before they bring back more of their friends. Did you drop anything? We can’t leave anything behind.”
I galloped over to the crushed Daring Do helmet and the fallen plush, scooping them up and shoving them into my flight satchel.
“No, I… I, D-Dusky, are you okay? You’re bleeding…” he said, as though noticing my wounds for the first time.
“Am I okay? I’m just a little bruised. You look like you just had a drawer full of knives dumped on you.”
He blinked, a slow, rolling look of realization lighting up in his eyes.
“D-Dusky, I…” He leaned in close. Just as I was about to pull away, he stopped and pulled back himself.
I narrowed my eyes. “Night Flurry.”
“I-I… S-sorry, I…” He shrunk down, face going beet red.
“I’m going to call that adrenaline and let it slide. Now, let’s get out of here.”
As soon as we reached the train station, I beckoned Night Flurry into the stallions’ restroom. I would have preferred the cleaner mares’ room, but odds are he’d implode into a red blob of embarrassment and we really didn’t have time for that.
In fact, I’d have skipped this little side trip entirely if not for the problems that would almost certainly arise from boarding the train looking like we’d just been in a bloody brawl; that is, if they even let us board at all.
Thankfully, I always carried a field kit with me, which let me avoid those awkward questions that came with seeking out medical supplies. All I needed was a clean source of water.
And so I found myself in the stallions’ restroom, constantly glancing over my shoulder as I cleaned up Night Flurry’s wounds. It really didn’t help that he cringed at each touch; although, to his credit, at least he didn’t cry out.
Most of the blood was still fresh enough that it hadn’t caked, allowing me to simply wash it out with water and brush the relevant portions of coat over it. Unfortunately, there were a couple spots, particularly around his neck and re-injured wing, that required bandages, lest he leave a nice little crimson stain on the next thing he bumped.
“There,” I said as I secured the last of the bandages. “That’s about as good as I can do. Best I can tell, there’s nothing particularly serious, but you should get a professional’s opinion once we get back.”
“U-um, okay. I… w-what about you?” Night Flurry asked.
I stared into the nearest mirror. A small line of blood dribbled down my lip and I think my forehead was swelling a bit, but the battle had mostly just left my coat ruffled. A quick gargle, face wash and brushing would cover that up easily enough.
“I’ve had worse,” I answered as I set to work.
Night Flurry nodded. “T-the way you fought... I c-can believe it. Wh-where did you learn to d-do that?”
“My mom.”
“W-wow… she m-must be quite the mare.”
I’m not sure what kind of response he expected, if any. Most people, including myself, would talk quite fondly about their mother. Although, even were I a third-party observer, I’d still speak highly of her; I’d yet to see anyone come close to beating her in a fight.
“You could say that.”
He smiled a shameless smile, staring straight at me. I stared back, waiting for him to get his words together, but his lips never moved. Some thought had run off with him and forgotten to bring him back.
Tilting my head, I eyed him up and down. “Night Flurry? You okay?”
His eyes snapped back into place, his posture slumping as he played with a groove in the floor. “I-I, y-yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure your injuries aren’t getting to you?”
He nodded vigourously. I watched him a few more moments, but decided to chalk it up to an adrenaline crash.
Turning to my field kit, I started cramming the remaining supplies in wherever they’d fit; I could sort it all out later when we were safe. Once that was done, I collected all the refuse into one of the empty packages, tucking it into the bottom of my flight satchel, beneath the kit itself.
“All right. We’d better get going, then. If anyone asks, a stack of crates fell on you.”
Night Flurry watched closely, his eyes following my ball of waste. “U-um, okay. But why—”
“Because it’s pretty conspicuous. We don’t want to leave evidence that we were here. Now come on.”
I had Night Flurry hang back while I went up to get our tickets; the fewer people who saw his bandages, the better. Granted, the lone booth stallion looked so bored, his eyes constantly drifting back to his half-read magazine, that I doubted it would have even mattered. Still, better safe than sorry.
“Two for Canterlot,” I said, setting down my bits.
“Here you go, miss.” He slid the tickets over without giving me a second glance.
“Thanks,” I mumbled and trotted back to Night Flurry. Were the situation less dire, I might have even smiled to myself; it’s not often that lackluster customer service provides an advantage.
“U-um, Canterlot?” Night Flurry asked.
With a nod, I motioned toward the platform. As luck would have it, the next scheduled train was not only supposed to be soon, but had pulled into the station early. It was just as well, as even though the platform was otherwise completely empty, each of the station’s office windows had me periodically glancing over my shoulder.
Once again, I led us to the back seats of the rearmost car. After we’d settled down, Night Flurry gave me a look that was somehow both shy and expectant.
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
Keeping one eye on the doors, I scanned the platform again. I wasn’t sure if the lack of other ponies made me more or less uneasy. While being near the rear door would let us get away if this happened to be a trap, I wasn’t sure what we’d do if we had to flee. Night Flurry’s inability to fly made the otherwise avoidable mountain terrain a serious disadvantage. I supposed we’d just have to find a place to hide until daylight when we could walk down the mountain.
I also considered trying to find Blizzard or Merriweather again, but there was no telling where they’d be and navigating an unfamiliar, hostile city would be nearly as dangerous as the mountains.
As the train lurched forward, I let out a long sigh.
After a few minutes of the nothing but the click-clack of the train, Night Flurry spoke up again, “U-um, so… Canterlot?”
I kept an eye on the far door as I lowered my voice. “Yeah. It has to stop in Ponyville first, so we’ll get off there.”
“Then why?”
“In case anyone asks after us… or if the ticket vendor is working for them.” I felt uneasy talking even this subtly in such a public place, but Night Flurry’s naivety was really starting to show. I needed him on the same page, just in case things happened.
“Wh-what? ‘Th-them’?”
There was no avoiding it now; he was tangled up in a conflict I’d long hoped had fallen by the wayside. I could have lied; given him a very vague bare-bones rundown to get us through the night, but his life was on the line. He at least deserved to know just what kind of threat he faced. Although, as I considered his injuries, another, more sinister thought entered my mind.
Best I could tell, his wounds were largely superficial. While it looked bad, the fact remained that he’d somehow beaten a Cartel enforcer in a one-on-one. Sure, he’d had basic Guard training, but not only did he flunk out, he also didn’t strike me as the kind to keep practicing on his own.
But as I looked into his eyes, at the naive, earnest confusion that spilled out in much the same way as his other emotions, the thought was gone just as quickly. Given his lack of acting cutie mark, I doubted he could fake that behaviour with such consistency. Plus there was the matter of the fight itself. If he was really colluding with the Cartel, why fight alongside me when it could have been turned into a four-on-one?
No, if he was really capable of such things, I would have found a way to deal with him from the very first moment he started following me around.
“Yes, ‘them’. The thugs. They work for a criminal organization.”
Night Flurry stared incredulously. “H-how do you know that?”
“Because I’ve seen him before. He was among those they sent after me.”
“Wh-what? Why would c-criminals be after you?”
“I made a naive mistake. I came across the site of a scuffle, tables and chairs knocked every which way. And there, in the middle of the carnage lay a scattered dossier, unattended, unguarded. It was an obvious plant. Someone wanted that information leaked, but they didn’t want to take the fall for it. I was too eager, too blinded by my desire to be a hero. I took it straight to the Guard.”
“Mistake? B-but it was r-real, right? I-If it could help bring down scum like that… h-how could it be a m-mistake?”
I shook my head. “People like that don't appreciate having their activities brought to light. Of course, I didn’t charge straight ahead like an idiot, but my precautions were pretty nominal. I thought I was so clever, allowing myself to be interviewed under the condition of anonymity. Turns out anonymity isn’t particularly helpful when some of the Guard is on their payroll.”
“B-but that’s… that’s not your f-fault.” Night Flurry’s face contorted as he waded through his words. “I… I don't think I could have made any other choice.”
I raised an eyebrow. “At the time, I thought the same thing. That’s why I called it naive.”
“You… you r-regret it?”
My eyes fell to the floor, a sigh escaping with them. “I… I don’t know. They knew where the safe house was; it wasn’t even a matter of if, so much as when. The Guard who remained true to their station fought back valiantly, but… they never stood a chance.”
Night Flurry didn’t reply. He just sat there, working his mouth. I imagined that the thought that the Guard could be so corrupt had never even crossed his mind.
A wounded Silent Vigil materialized within my mind’s eye. He lay on his side, chest rising and falling erratically. And once again, all I could do was stare helplessly as he uttered those words: There’s too many… You… you have to run! Live... and show them they... can’t just do what they want.
My next words were barely whispers, ghostly sounds that I couldn’t even be sure were coming from my mouth. “I did what I had to. To survive, I… I left them behind; fled into the night.”
Night Flurry shook as he stared at the window. When he spoke, he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anything, “H-how… how can ponies even d-do things like that? I-I don’t understand. You did what was right. And i-if you did nothing else but survive, you w-won. If you had d-died, then… it would have been for nothing!”
“Shhh!” Eyes narrowing, I raised a hoof to my lips.
I turned my attention back to the door, ears flicking in the silence. I let it linger for another minute before speaking low again. “No. It wasn’t a victory; it was… barely getting by. And then I… I couldn’t let it go. I found some Guard I could trust and they raided the operation, but the criminals knew they were coming. The Guard ‘won’ only by the strictest definition.”
Night Flurry chewed on the air.
“They came for me again, during the raid. I didn’t hold back; none of us did. They lost someone important that day, but all that did was make me a target. And at what cost? How many lives?”
“B-but you did the right thing! I… I-if nopony else will stand by you, then I will. I sw-swear it!” A dark look overtook Night Flurry’s face.
I raised my hoof again, ruining his moment. “Look… Night Flurry, I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re better off putting as much distance between us as possible. The sooner you do, the safer you’ll be.”
“I-I don’t care. I c-can’t leave you now; it wouldn’t be…" He drew himself up. "...it wouldn’t be right.”
“Rarely is it ever that simple.” I let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t going to back down. All I could do, then, was to help him temper that zeal—hopefully before it caused another issue. “Besides, we don’t need anymore heroes. Promise me you won’t try to be a hero. Because heroes, they…”
Silent Vigil flashed by again. I looked away.
“O-okay, then I… I p-promise I won’t be a hero. I’ll j-just do what I can to h-help.”
“Are you really sure about this?” I gave him a skeptical look. “This isn’t some game; it will be neither short nor easy.”
Night Flurry got up and placed a hoof on my shoulder. It was a nice gesture, but I couldn’t be sure if it made me feel better or worse. After chewing on even more invisible words, he finally forced his mouth open. “H-hey... Don't worry about me. I l-learned my lesson. I’ll b-be careful.”
“I hope so. There is little room for error in what lies ahead.”
Night Flurry nodded.
“All right.” I lowered my head until it sat atop my forehooves. “Well, in any event, we should rest and conserve our energy, just in case. But don’t fall asleep.”
“Um, o-okay.” Night Flurry slid back into his seat, mirroring my position.
---
Upon our return, Night Flurry had insisted on walking me home, something that I only halfway indulged; strength in numbers provided a comfort that was in rather short supply. On the other hoof, it was probably best if he didn’t know the precise location of my apartment.
We parted in silence somewhere along the main road.
The next day passed without incident. At first I felt relieved, but the more time I had to think, the more I found my mind drifting back to the incident.
Were they actively searching for me? Or was it just dumb luck? A voice at the back of my head nagged at me, telling me that it didn’t matter; if they weren’t looking before, they definitely were now. The real question was whether or not I’d actually given them the slip.
By the following day, my thoughts had grown too numerous for my apartment. Even though my next shift wasn’t too far off, I couldn’t wait; I needed the fresh air now.
I chose the park, as it was well within the town’s limits, affording me a bit more leeway to be distracted. Good thing too, as said distraction didn’t take long to find me.
Just inside the park’s gates, I spotted a vaguely familiar filly—the one from Terra’s shop; she even had the same bucket with her. Streaks of mud cut across her coat in such quantity that she almost looked like a little purple and brown zebra. Her mane and tail didn’t fare much better, though the mud there had simply clumped into thick splotches.
A tall sunflower spilled over the side of the bucket, as though trying to slip away while the filly was busy pawing at the ground.
In any event, somehow I thought the park’s gardeners wouldn’t be particularly impressed with her hoofwork. I trotted over.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” She didn’t even glance over her shoulder.
I stood behind her, tapping my hoof as I waited for her to give me her full attention.
Finally, she sighed and looked up. “Planting. I’m planting.”
I raised an eyebrow. Is this really the same filly who crumbled under Terra’s wrath?
“I can see that. What I’m wondering is why you feel the need to do that on public property.”
“Because they asked me to. It’s my job.” The filly looked at me like she’d just stated the most basic, obvious thing in the world.
Giving her a stern, skeptical look, I asked, “Really? And who’s ‘they’?”
“The gardeners. They said as soon as I show them how nice I can make the place, the job’s mine.”
“Is that so?” I tilted my head as I glanced at her cutie mark, or lack thereof. “Aren’t you a little young to be looking for a job?”
“No. My dad was working when he was my age.” She gave me that same ‘I just spoke a universal truth’ look again.
“And I’m sure he’s a great guy, but don’t you think he’d want you to be in school?”
“Today’s a holiday.”
While I knew foals are prone to being short-sighted, this was starting to get a bit much. “Today is, sure, but what about the next? What if school and your job start to get in each other’s way?”
The filly pursed her lips.
I sighed. “Look, all I’m saying is that you may want to think carefully ab—”
“Hey, D-Dusky!” Night Flurry’s voice pulled my eyes over my shoulder. He was just a few feet behind me.
I nodded. “Hi, Night Flurry.”
“Oh, great, another one,” the filly muttered.
Night Flurry’s smiled as he arrived, seemingly oblivious to the filly’s rudeness. “H-hi. Um… w-who is this?”
I opened my mouth, but that’s when it hit me: I didn’t know either. “I don’t think I caught your name.”
“Aster.” The filly returned to her digging.
“Nice to meet you, Aster. I’m Dusky,” I said, motioning a forehoof toward myself, then Night Flurry, “and this is Night Flurry.”
“Mmm,” was Aster’s only reply. She tipped the bucket over and gingerly dragged the sunflower into the hole.
“Anyway, as I was saying, you might want to think more carefully about the difficulty of juggling school and a job at your age. Besides, I suspect that offer was for a bit farther into the future than immediately.” I glanced at Aster’s blank flank again.
Night Flurry blinked. “W-what? H-her? A job?”
“She’s apparently in with the park gardeners.”
“B-but she’s just a filly.”
I nodded. “Exactly.’
Aster stepped back to admire her hoofwork before turning to us. “You’re dumb. Just ‘cause I’m a filly, doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”
And with that, she took her bucket and wandered off.
Shaking my head, I was half-tempted to go looking for her dad so that we might discuss her attitude. However, her name wasn’t a lot to go off of and I had more pressing matters to allocate my resources toward. Perhaps next time.
As I glanced at Night Flurry, my eyes drifted over the sunflower, suddenly standing tall and proud in its new home. To be absolutely fair, she did do a pretty good job.
“U-um…” Night Flurry stared.
“Don’t worry about it. Whatever her deal is, it’s not worth it. It’ll sort itself out when she realizes that reality doesn’t match her expectations.”
“I hope s-so.” He continued to watch until Aster disappeared over a hill.
In the meantime, I gave him a onceover. Barring the lingering bandages, it was difficult to tell he’d even been hurt; a thankful indication that there should be little-to-no scarring.
“How are your wounds treating you?”
“O-oh, they’re, um, a b-bit sore. But they’re healing!”
I nodded. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Getting restless?”
“Um, y-yeah, you could say that. I thought I m-might enjoy the sunset.” He scuffed a hoof.
Thinking back to the last week or so, I realized I hadn’t seen many lately either. I gave him a sympathetic look. “You don't get to see many of those, do you?”
Night Flurry shook his head. “No... n-not many sunsets, no.”
I pointed to the hill where Aster had gone. “Wanna head up there? Sunsets are usually best seen from higher up.”
“O-okay. That sounds n-nice.”
I led the way up the hill. It was actually rather short, though not wholly unexpected, considering it was a park hill. A nice, refreshing breeze played over my coat as I reached the top.
We’d barely been there ten seconds when the faint whooshing of wings on the wind drew my eyes skyward. A black blur, streaked in lavender, landed right in front of me. As the dust settled, I realized it was her.
She was a charcoal mare, with a coat much like mine, though her lavender mane was cut shorter and held in place by a red and white headband. She didn’t say a word, merely standing there, sizing me up; not that she really needed to, as she knew I couldn’t beat her.
But I had to try. No matter how many times she defeated me, this was a big part of why I trained. I subtly lowered myself into a fighting stance. She did the same.
Oblivious as ever, Night Flurry called out, “Hello, you u-um... here to watch the sunset t-too?”
I doubted she heard him. I barely did, the majority of my focus straight ahead. The first move was always crucial.
“Um... e-excuse me... what's your name? Do you t-two know each other?”
My mom lunged.
The forehoof swing was sloppy, practically a gimme and a sign she’d wanted me to initiate. I easily stepped out of the way, aiming my counterstrike at her midsection.
Like lightning, she’d already parried, shoving me back with a force that nearly bowled me over. I threw my head up as I stepped back, something that would have easily caught the undisciplined off-guard. She didn’t even bother to advance, my strike whiffing entirely.
Reversing my momentum, I pressed the attack, opening with a wing strike, followed by a one-two forehoof combo.
Again I found myself stonewalled, with mom unleashing a torrent of interchanging wing and forehoof strikes. I barely deflected the first few, but she was just too fast; for every three that I parried, her wing would come crashing into my muzzle or neck.
It wasn’t even a proper fight anymore, she was just picking me apart. I threw my wing up, intercepting hers, my exhausted counter going way off-target. I was lucky I was even able to stabilize in time to stop her forehoof strike.
But this wasn’t a parry, it was a dead block and slowly, but surely, I was faltering, her superior strength bringing her hoof closer to my forehead.
In a last ditch effort, I bent my knees, letting all her force go free. She staggered for just a second. I pushed her hoof aside and took several hops backward, panting as I went.
I felt my ears twitch as they picked up on a third set of hooves galloping across the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Night Flurry charging in. Oh no.
My mom’s attention turned to him. He wasn’t ready. With his form as it was, he’d be done in a single strike.
“Ni…. Night! … W-wait!” I gasped between breaths.
Night Flurry screeched to a halt, his face uncertain whether rage or confusion was more appropriate. “B-but... she…”
“I… it’s okay... It was... a...a—”
“Pop quiz.” My mom gave me a stern look.
“A... pop quiz?” I could practically hear Night Flurry’s brain collapsing upon itself.
My mom turned her gaze his way. “That’s right.”
“Is... is that s-supposed to be some kind of joke?" Anger won out, washing over Night Flurry’s face. After what happened in Fetlock, I don’t think anyone could blame him.
In fact, I felt some annoyance of my own creeping up on me. “Mom, what did I tell you last time?”
Night Flurry held up a hoof, lingering a good ten seconds until his brain finally recovered. “Mom...?”
My mom sighed, her eyes sweeping over each of us in turn. “Yes, I know. But not every fight is going to show up when it’s convenient for you. I waited until the filly was gone, didn't I?”
“I understand that, but this is also the kind of place where somepony else might call the Guard.” I glanced at Night Flurry. “Or get the wrong impression. And yes, Night Flurry, this is my mom, the mare who taught me how to fight.”
He froze again, a new habit clearly in the works. “O-oh… y-yes, um, th-that mom.”
My mom peered at him. “Hmph, and you are?”
“Oh, um... s-sorry. I'm Night F-Flurry... Mrs...?”
“Ward. Windy Ward. But you can call me Windy.” She turned back to me. “And don’t you worry about that. There won’t be any problems with the Guard.”
“Um, n-nice to meet you?” Night Flurry mumbled.
“And the ponies we freaked out?” I raised an eyebrow. “Being able to talk the Guard down doesn’t guarantee they won’t be forming their own impression.”
“They’ll get over it. Unless you’re talking about him.” She pointed at Night Flurry. “Then he needs to get himself sorted.”
“U-um?” Night Flurry shrunk down. “I d-do?”
“See? How’s he supposed to back you up getting all like that? He’s already kind of scrawny for a stallion; he needs something going for him. At least the postal pony has muscles.”
I sighed. “My friends aren’t just here to be bodyguards. Besides, I can take care of myself and I’d rather they not be in harm’s way. Anyway, what are you doing here?”
“Your father and I are on our way to Canterlot. He caught wind of a few deals and you know how he gets when that happens.” My mom slipped over and snuck a quick nuzzle.
Learning in close, I pressed my muzzle against her neck. “Of course.”
I was about to ask where my dad was, but as I glanced up, I found my question answered. He was hovering down toward us, taking great care to keep the old skywagon, which was trailing along behind him, level.
My dad had a royal blue coat framed by a sky blue mane. His kind eyes, a big part of his charm as a salespony, sat behind a pair of spectacles. Spectacles that, as long as I could remember, he only ever took off to clean.
Despite the wagon’s somewhat rickety appearance, the frame was solid and the roof watertight. It was not for the wagon that my dad was cautious, but the wares inside.
Idly, I wondered if they’d had time to realign that rear right wheel. For any of the other pony tribes, it might seem weird for a merchant to not fix what seems like it should be a fundamental part of the wagon’s workings. However, the amount of time skywagons spend both on the ground and moving was actually rather trivial.
“Bravo!” My dad grinned as he landed. “You’re giving your mother more of a run for her money each time.”
“Don’t spoil her.” My mom gave him a sideways glance before turning back to me. “As I was saying, since we had to fly over Ponyville anyway, we just had to stop in to check up on our favourite daughter.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I smirked back at him before rolling my eyes at my mom. “Only daughter.”
“Same thing, right?” Just the barest of grins played across my mom’s lips.
“Yeah, sure. Anyway, Night Flurry, this is my dad, Splendid Speech. Dad, this is Night Flurry, a friend of mine.”
“A pleasure.” My dad shook Night Flurry’s hoof.
“S-same here.” Night Flurry’s replied, his portion of the shake being less ‘shake’ and more ‘being pulled along for the ride’.
As details of Fetlock crept back into my mind, I wondered if I should consult with my parents. However, that would require going someplace safe and secure to chat. “Are you heading straight there or staying overnight?”
“Straight away, unfortunately.” My dad gave me an apologetic look. “The market waits for no one.”
That answer was almost a given, but I had to ask. My mind quickly sought out alternatives. “That's too bad. Maybe on the way back? Or perhaps I could stop by Canterlot?”
My mom nodded. “Probably. We'll see what we can do. But I think it's time that we left. We've had a long journey and there's still a few hours left.”
I stepped between my parents and each of them nuzzled into my forelock, the same way they’d done it ever since I was a filly. For just a few moments, time stopped and the world faded away, that familiar warmth and safety washing over me.
And then it was gone, time resuming as I took a step back.
“It was nice meeting you, Night Flurry,” my mom said.
“Perhaps next time we can chat for a bit,” my dad added.
Night Flurry squirmed. “Th-that would be n-nice.”
They each waved in turn before taking off. I watched them go until they were mere specks against the towering mountain that Canterlot called home.
“Well... your m-mother seems... um, interesting.” Night Flurry scuffed his hoof.
“Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”
“No, no, she's... a-amazing. I just, um…” He looked me, then promptly blushed and diverted his eyes. “S-Sorry I tried to attack your m-mother.”
I couldn’t help but giggle. "I'm glad you think that. And... well, it's no problem, really. I just didn't think you wanted one of her lessons just yet."
Night Flurry shook his head. “No, um… p-probably not.”
“I must admit, I’m a bit surprised you held back as long as you did.”
“W-well, I did make a p-promise, so, um…”
I nodded. “I’m glad you’ve taken it to heart.”
He rubbed one forehoof against the ankle of the other. “I, um... I'm w-working on it.”
I cast one more glance at the sky, though it was impossible to pick out my parents now, especially against the darkened heavens. That’s when the realization hit me.
“Huh. Looks like we missed the sunset.”
Night Flurry let out a chuckle, the kind that was in that odd medium between nervous and bog-standard uncertainty. “Th-that’s okay… things got p-pretty exciting.”
With a smirk, I turned my eyes back toward Canterlot. “So it did.”
It was good to be back at the Seapony. With the night shift back in Night Flurry’s hooves, I could look forward to a nice, long evening of socializing. Even if I still wasn’t really sure about Merriweather and Starshadow, it was preferable to another night alone with the Fetlock incident.
While certainly nothing to brush aside, with no new information, I was just dwelling. Besides, there would be plenty of time to think about it tomorrow, both on the way to Canterlot and once I met up with my parents.
The evening had hardly started and Terra was already into her third glass by the time I’d arrived. She sat a seat farther away from Starshadow this time, something Starshadow didn’t seem to mind in the least.
Meanwhile, Mahogany was still more than happy to buddy up to Merriweather because of the endless supply of free Buzzards. And, as usual, Night Flurry sat low against the table, squished under the weight of Mahogany’s forehoof.
“Today any better?” I asked as I sat down.
Terra squinted her eyes, shifting them from patron to patron. “Nah. Shtill ain’t feelin’ it.”
“What, your… ‘sexy’?” I sighed, still unable to believe I was using that terminology.
She nodded emphatically as she leaned forward and intensified her stare.
“Somehow I don’t think it’s going to work if you try to force it,” I said before dropping my voice to a fake mumble. “Just like a certain other thing.”
Sticking out her tongue, Terra continued eying the slim pickings of the room. “Psh, you’ll thank me when it all worksh out.”
I shook my head. “Riiight. So, have you asked Starshadow about it?”
“Yeah! She shaid there’s too much inta—incha—” Terra screwed up her face. “—intherawoven magic to tell. Not that it matters. She shaid the magic won’t go ‘way until next week. It shux.”
I gave Starshadow a sideways glance. “Hmmm, well, if you want a second opinion, we could always see what Twilight Sparkle has to say.”
Terra spit her drink back into her glass. “Twilight Schparkle? Twilight Schparkle?! Nonononono! No way!”
“Why not?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Why not?! Because she’s a celebrity! I can’t… I can’t…” Terra slammed back the regurgitated drink. “I just can’t!”
I had to admit that I was taken aback. In all our years of friendship, I’d never seen her react this way. Granted, we’re both simple mares and I hadn’t been friends with a celebrity up until rather recently, but still.
“She won’t bite, you know.”
“It doeshn’t matter.” Terra levitated another glass up to her lips.
“Uh… okay? Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”
She and her glass nodded.
The doors swung open and in walked a bleary-eyed Blizzard Breeze.
I stood, ready to intercept Blizzard and pull her aside. After all, I still owed her an explanation of Merriweather’s history. But something was wrong. The look on Blizzard’s face was not the fatigue of a job well done, the tired after-bliss of a challenge overcome. No, her eyes were sunken, bearing the sort of wavering glimmer that spoke of a painful ordeal.
A newspaper was tucked under her wing, clutched up against her like a newborn foal.
“Hi, Blizzard. Are… are you okay?”
She shook her head. “I need to ask you and Night and that Merriweather pony a question.”
My heart fell as I motioned over to the table. I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be avoiding a certain topic like I’d hoped. “Sounds serious. Do we need to talk in private?”
“Maybe? I don’t know, it depends.” Blizzard sighed, taking a seat beside me.
“Oh, um, h-hi, Blizzard,” Night Flurry began with what cheer he could muster, but quickly clued in too. “W-what’s wrong?”
“I need to know: did you three see any weird ponies by the sculptures?”
My stomach churned. “Weird? How so?”
“Anything. Rough, suspicious, drunk.”
“Not that I can think of.” I shook my head. “But we weren’t by the sculptures for long. Night Flurry and I left right after our visit to the knitting expo.”
Blizzard’s gaze turned to Merriweather, with Starshadow following suit and adding a raised eyebrow.
“I was at the Frothy Flagon the rest of the night,” Merriweather answered. “I’m sure a few ponies there would happily vouch for me~.”
“Wait a second. You went out in public and drank without me?!” Starshadow narrowed her eyes.
“Yeah. What’s the big deal? It’s not like you drink anymore.”
“That is not the point! What were you even doing?”
“Helping!” She pointed a hoof at Night Flurry, who shrunk down. “He was winning! And happy!”
Starshadow closed her eyes as she clutched her forehooves to the side of her head, as though something might escape if she didn’t.
“Sis’?” Merriweather tilted her head. “You’re not angry about some little thing like this, are you?”
Starshadow’s eyes snapped open and she glared at Merriweather. “Of course I am angry! You oversaturate two ponies with your magic and then decide it is appropriate to use even more magic near the one who was seriously injured? Have you gone mad?!”
Blizzard started like she’d just been hit by a cart. She gave Merriweather a dark look. “So you’re the one who hurt Night.”
“No! I know what I’m doing!” Merriweather’s head swiveled toward Blizzard. “Not on purpose!”
I winced. The whole bar was looking our way now and it only seemed like things were going to get more intense. I drew in a deep breath.
“Everyone, calm down! Now!”
The conversation stopped dead.
Good.
I motioned around the room. “This is obviously something too heated to discuss in public. Now follow me before we get kicked out.”
Astonishingly, everyone fell into line behind me—even Starshadow and Merriweather. What I thought would be ten minutes of dragging them one-by-one to the back rooms turned out to be a simple thirty-second walk. Part of me thought I should yell more often. Another said, That’s stupid.
Once Terra and Mahogany had made a second trip to retrieve all the drinks, I shut the door.
“All right.” I took a seat. “Now let’s try this again without shouting. Blizzard, what’s wrong? Did something happen to the sculptures?”
Blizzard sighed. “They were smashed. All of them.”
“Whoa! Seriously?!” Mahogany leaned forward, his drink forgotten for once.
Blizzard nodded, spreading the the newspaper out in front of us before glancing at Merriweather. “And there was alcohol dumped all over the remains.”
“Agh, what a waste of perfectly good booze!” Mahogany moaned. When all eyes and scowls turned on him, he hastily added, “And sculptures! Yeah! That’s whatameant!”
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to the newspaper.
Statues Vandalized Beyond Repair! Who is to Blame?! it declared. I started skimming the article itself, but at least from the part that was on the front page, it was more concerned with pointing hooves at the leadership than the vandalism itself.
“Hey, don’t look at me. I was having a good time at the pub~,” Merriweather preempted.
“Too much of a good time?” Starshadow peered at her.
“No, I… I could only afford a few ciders,” Merriweather looked away, as though that was somehow the most embarrassing thing she could admit to.
“What?” Starshadow stared.
“It’s not my fault the knitting was so good~!” Merriweather replied, nuzzling at an invisible piece of wool.
Starshadow just shook her head.
“Cider was dumped on the sculptures,” Blizzard said flatly.
“C’mon, Bree, cider ain’t a reason to suspect somepony. I mean it's no Buzzard, but plenty'a decent ponies drink it. Now if we were talkin’bout Screwdrivers...” Mahogany nodded sagely.
“It ain’t pure whishkey, either.” Terra half-smirked. “But sheriously, doeshn’t that kinda thing have guards and schtuff?”
“They did.” Blizzard looked down. “One of the tents caught fire. They jumped in to stop it from spreading.”
“That is troubling,” Starshadow said, crossing her forehooves. “While Sister is prone to inebriation and excess in her pranks, especially when inebriated—”
“Oh, gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Merriweather frowned.
Starshadow continued without missing a beat. “—I do not believe there is reason to accuse her. I suspect that this was premeditated malice.”
I nodded. “The fire is just too convenient. Was anything else damaged or stolen?”
“All the ice in the warehouse was smashed too.”
“Yeesh! And here I thought I hated ice.” Mahogany took a long sip from his Buzzard.
“That’sh a lotta work for shomething sho…. uh…” Terrabona’s eyes glazed over.
“Petty?” I suggested.
“Yesh! Dat!”
“U-um, what about the ponies d-doing the sculptures?” Night Flurry added.
“Fixing the competition? If that were the case, why smash everything?” Starshadow asked.
The Cartel drifted back to the forefront. They had to be involved somehow. A sleepy town like Fetlock just doesn’t normally attract those kinds of people. There was the obvious question, though it was almost too obvious and whether I was right or wrong, bringing it up would reveal my knowledge to everyone here.
“Blizzard.” I looked her straight in the eye. “I need to ask you a difficult question. I may have a lead, but first I need you to answer honestly.”
She let out a sigh. “Whatever it takes.”
I’d had years to prepare, imagining many scenarios from a slip of the tongue, to taking them aside and telling the individually, to giving the quick-and-dirty as we fled the Cartel's enforcers. I thought I was ready. I wasn’t. Years of doubt surfaced. What would they think? Just being friends was putting them in danger. After that, I couldn’t reasonably expect them to trust me. My body shook, racked by the thought of losing them in one way or another.
I took a deep breath and then a second. “Have you ever made any deals with the Leaf Sister Cartel?”
“What?” Blizzard’s eyes went wide and she just stared as though I’d just said something as ludicrous as ‘Princess Celestia is secretly in love with an arch-villain.’ Unless she was really good at faking it, her shock was genuine. Still, I wanted an answer to make certain.
“Pfft, good one!” Mahogany raised his glass, but stopped as he met my eyes. “Wait, ‘snot a joke?”
I kept the entirety of my focus on Blizzard. “The Leaf Sister Cartel was in Fetlock that weekend. Did you or did you not make and break any deals that they would be inclined to collect on?”
“N-no! Never! I wouldn’t ever go near something like that!” Her expression didn’t change. If someone had made a deal, it probably wasn’t her.
“That is a very specific organization. Is there a reason you asked about them?” Starshadow eyed me up and down.
“It’s because… well, let me start by saying that Night Flurry didn’t accidentally knock a stack of crates onto himself.”
“O… kay?” Blizzard cocked her head.
“We were attacked.”
Terra’s drink sprayed all over the table. “What?!”
Starshadow didn’t even say a word, but her ears were pointed right at me, while Merriweather bore a surprisingly serious look of concern.
Blizzard’s face alternated between horror and anger. “Where? When?”
“On the way back to the station. They came from the alleyways.”
“I… I… why?” She slumped.
Starshadow’s eyes flitted over to Night Flurry before falling on me. “You do not seem worse for wear. Have you contacted the Guard?”
“I’ve been in a scrap or two. And… no, I can’t trust them.”
“I see. How do you know that these criminals are, in fact, Leaf Sister Cartel?”
“The thugs’ leader. I’ve fought him before. Well, insofar as fleeing is fighting him.”
Terra and Mahogany stared. I was an alien, far more than the simple Ponyvillian they thought I was.
“What?! When wash thish?”
“Years ago. I was baited into taking planted evidence to the Guard. Someone wanted that information out, but without taking responsibility, perhaps because they knew the Cartel have spies within the Guard. Regardless, I learned the hard way that that’s why I can’t trust them.”
“Yasure you aren’t talking about a book you read?” Mahogany asked.
I nodded. “I wish.”
“If the Guard can’t help, then when do we start knocking heads~?” Merriweather grinned.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to draw more attention to myself, let alone any of you. This is not an organization a small group can beat by taking out a few thugs.”
What I didn’t add is that after that last magic display, I wasn’t sure if Merriweather and Starshadow would cause more or less damage than the Cartel.
“Then what do we do? Challenge their leader to a duel? I bet Sis’ would have it no problem~.”
Peering at Merriweather, I sighed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t go for that. This isn’t Ostfriesen. As for what to do about the attack? Nothing. The details are too specific. It’ll lead them right to us. As far as the sculptures go, perhaps if we draw a connection, then the Guard could be given an extremely anonymous tip.”
“If they are connected.” Starshadow frowned. “All we have so far is idle speculation.”
“What about the rest of your staff?” I glanced at Blizzard. “Did the festival receive any large, mysterious increases in funding?”
She shook her head. “No, the books all checked out. Besides, they might be rough around the edges, but I can’t see them stooping to… that.”
“Dusky, are you certain they were not looking for you and that the sculptures are not coincidence? If none of the staff are suspect, then what do they have to gain?” Starshadow turned her forehooves up.
I shook my head. “No, I have no way of being certain, but I believe it to be an attack of opportunity. There were too few of them for it to have been planned.”
“T-too few…?” Night Flurry shrank.
“The Cartel doesn’t fight with more than basic finesse. They send overwhelmingly large groups to take care of their targets. If they knew Night Flurry was with me, three is maybe half of what they’d normally bring. It would make sense for them to be short-hoofed if they’re going after something that large within such a limited time frame.”
“But that still doesn’t tell us why.” Blizzard eyed Merriweather again.
I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help, but whatever the missing piece is, we’re not going to find it here.”
---
With nothing concluded, we’d left the room as uneasily as we’d entered. I took a moment to make sure Terra and Mahogany were okay. They were still giving me funny looks, but that was about the best I could hope. All that was left was to give them time; time to decide whether they could risk the dangers of being my friend.
I’d planned to talk to Blizzard next, but she’d excused herself pretty much as soon as we’d reached the common area. The whole round table discussion was something I’d hoped would take some of the stress off of her, but as she’d scurried out, I had to wonder if it hadn’t just made things worse.
It was then I decided that come Canterlot, I’d have to make a detour to see an old friend and to ask him questions I’d hoped I’d never have to again.
And so I found myself padding through the darker streets of Canterlot’s bar district, with only a long cloak insulating my features from prying eyes. To call it seedy would be an inaccurate comparison; even the worst sections of Canterlot were pristine compared to the rest of the country. Still, there was a certain feeling of hushed and hasty business that hung in the air like humidity on a hot summer day.
The Record Club was a small, unassuming pub whose only quirk appeared to be its gaudy obsession with collectable vinyl. But like many on the block, it was a gathering place for those who dealt in information. The Record Club just so happened to be a favourite of my friend’s.
As I pushed through the door, as expected, I was flanked on either side by a half-dozen framed records. Old booths circled the room, taking up any remaining wall space as they enclosed what few free-standing tables there were. The familiarity was comforting, knowing I had somewhere to ground myself, for it belied the high-speed world I was about to tap into.
I trotted to the back corner, stopping at a particular pair of booths. There were no markings or signs to indicate which, but my hooves always knew where to take me. I reached under my cloak, to my flight satchel, and retrieved a small bag of bits. I slid it under the table of the booth on my right before taking a seat in the left.
Now it was just a matter of waiting patiently for Lockbox. It wasn’t his real name, of course, but it had almost been assimilated into the role. The last I recall his real name even receiving mention was years ago, back when he was in the Guard.
It was with his help that I was finally able to get my information to stick. And it was because of his centralness to that effort that he also became a target. I’d always wondered if he resented having to go into hiding. Never could get even the vaguest answer out of him, though.
A half-cider later, I caught a glimpse of Lockbox as he slid into the booth seat behind me. He had a coat a similar colour to Mahogany’s, though it was a touch redder. He wasn’t particularly large, especially for an earth pony, but he was also much like my mother in that they’re both much more vicious than their size would suggest. A long, uneven hazel forelock shadowed his eyes; even if I were looking straight at him, it would have been difficult to tell what he was thinking.
“I heard a certain Moonlit Dream caused a bit of a stir in Fetlock Falls. I thought you were done with this fool’s errand.” His voice was completely even, which just felt weird when he was being particularly blunt.
“I am. I was. But they found me. I need to know if they’re after me.”
“You ask more than that.”
Poking a hoof at my drink, I sighed. “I know, it’s… I owe some friends.”
“Must be a hefty debt. Business, then?”
“Bits are under the table.”
The bag’s contents clattered against themselves as I heard them fall across Lockbox’s table.
“Very well. I hear Fetlock brought in extra ice to accommodate the larger competition this year. Too much, in fact. Or perhaps not enough, given that some of it contained certain… impurities. A shame it all went missing so that nothing could be done about the vandalized sculptures. Hoofington should safeguard theirs more closely, lest they find themselves in the same situation.”
The barest of joys drifted up my chest. I never quite expected an opportunity to come this readily. “When?”
“This weekend.”
I frowned; that hardly left any time to prepare. “Thanks.”
“Don’t get yourself killed.” He slipped away as quietly as he came.
I sipped at my cider, the gears in my head already turning.
---
My next and last stop was another friend, this time at the Canterlot University. If I wanted to make Hoofington, I’d have to move quickly. I’d already sent word to Rainbow Dash, to enact my emergency vacation, as well as my parents, who I told I’d catch up to later.
If I could figure out which ice had impurities, then I could bring some back as evidence. As it was, I had no way of telling which did and did not fit that category. And so I trotted the halls, seeking one Ruby Result, Magic Analysis Specialist.
Her lab was as smelly as ever, the cocktail of different chemicals forcing me to pause at the door. Not that they were dangerous or anything; a trip down a large enough scented candle aisle had the same effect.
While I waited, I peered out over the room. As usual, the room was pristine in every place except the one she was currently working. Sprawled across the farthest table was a half-dozen dog-eared books and a small assortment of glowing materials.
“Ruby?” I called out.
“Dusky?” Ruby’s head poked up over her table. A wide grin spread across her fiery red coat and her soft pink forelock bounced around her horn as she hopped to her full height. She was in full lab gear, the white cloak and thick goggles appearing especially dull against her natural colours. “Dusky! What a surprise! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? We could have done dinner!”
I smiled back as I approached. Sometimes that exuberance made it difficult to remember that she was nearly twice my age. “Sorry, this was actually kind of spur-of-the-moment. I... could I ask you a favour?”
“Of course!” Ruby stepped away from the table and trotted over to meet me.
I glanced back to ensure no one had come in behind me before lowering my voice. “I need a way for a non-unicorn to detect the presence of either part of the Ghost Flower.”
Ruby’s brow furrowed. “You’re not going after them again, are you?”
“Well, yes and no.” I scuffed my hoof. “I have some friends who might be caught up in one of their schemes. I need to get this all figured out before it comes back to blindside one of us.”
“Okay.” With a nod, Ruby headed for one of the book shelves, several tomes unseating themselves before she’d even arrived. “How do you think it’s being concealed?”
“In ice. Probably mixed.”
“Very well. Give me a few minutes.”
With a nod, I settled down beside one of the empty tables. “Thanks, Ruby.”
“Just make sure you come back and fill me in afterward,” she said, burying her muzzle in a book before snorting and setting the tome aside.
The next book bent itself to her will, its pages fluttering open. I was always a little awed—even though unicorn magic is relatively commonplace—to see how quickly and accurately magic could perform these precise tasks. My mind turned to idle thoughts. If I had had spells, would it have made a difference? Could I have finished this sooner?
I’d certainly seen enough destructive magic, even in recent memory, to know that fighting would have been significantly easier. But perhaps that would have just drawn more ire my way. Powerful entities always seemed to find a way of clashing, especially around Ponyville.
“Is a solution okay?” Ruby asked, breaking my day dream. “I can have it prepared in a few hours. Anything else will require days.”
The sun had just begun its descent, framing Hoofington in a warm glow as the city came into view. Its pale purple structures formed a rough rectangle, with the nearby river giving it a gentle curve; the water itself was dotted with dozens of boats, all turning in for the day.
A large cluster of bright blue-and-white striped tents sat in the very centre of the city. They caught the remaining light just right, such that the reflections twinkled, like some sort of collective beacon; a beacon that belied just what was going on within the shadows beneath the flaps.
I locked my wings, starting a slow glide toward the city proper. These would be my last moments of peace for the rest of the weekend. I wanted so badly to drink in that beauty, no matter how fake it was. But my mind was all business. My eyes wandered the city, mapping out the general layout of the festival and the surrounding streets. While I did recognize a few of the streets, the years since my last visit left it a strange and unfamiliar place. As I got closer and closer, my focus only intensified.
Near the middle of the rectangle formation, just a little closer to the water, was another rectangle. This one was a smooth stone wall surrounding a large, gated park. Wide paths cut through the walls in the middle of each side—a necessity for such a massive public area.
Even though I was still quite far away, I could make out the raised mounds of snow; they weren’t especially tall, but just enough to act as both a stage and division. They were arrayed in a bit of a lopsided grid, patiently awaiting both ice and sculptors.
Not that I planned on being inside the park at any point, but it would serve as a very convenient landmark should things get hectic.
Plus, the warehouses I was looking for couldn’t be too far away. There was supposed to be a trio of them, the middle of which would be where the ice was stored. It didn’t take me too long to spot them; they were all in a neat little line, running along the waterfront.
Of course, I’d have to leave them be for the moment. The festival wasn’t due to start until the morning and with the Cartel involved, just knowing the layout wasn’t enough to act on. In order for this to be a true success, not only would I have to keep myself safe, but I’d also have to remain undetected. It was for that reason that I planned to dedicate the next day to scoping out the finer details, including any suspicious individuals.
The intensity of the task would require me to be well-rested and so I would need to find an inn. I didn’t bother considering anywhere near the festival itself, instead opting to check the outskirts of the city. Anything closeby would have been either long picked over or far out of my price range.
So I took to the streets in search of a homebase for one “Indigo Strands”, as indicated by my ‘alternate’ ID. Even if the air usually offered a wider view, it was also easier for untoward characters to spot me.
As I wandered from block to block, my eyes traversed each building, flitting over the occasional festival sign. A breeze swept through the town and the flickering of shadows drew my gaze skyward. My heart made a false start, stopping only two steps in.
A pang of annoyance washed over me, settling as a warmth in my cheeks. I was getting jumpy again. The culprit was nothing more than a decorative flag and a couple balloons tied to a nearby lamppost. This setup was strategically duplicated every third post.
Once my nerves had settled, I began to realize just how different Hoofington felt. Fetlock had been the young, excited child, eager to please, if only someone would come see. Hoofington was the older, patient child who knew the ropes; there was clear effort put into the decor, but it wasn’t aggressive, instead waiting for the inevitable crowd.
The first three hotels were busts, with the ragged receptionists generally giving me noncommittal shrugs and apologies. To be perfectly fair, the idea of being able to walk in during an event like this was bordering on unreasonable. I imagined they must have already turned away dozens of far less-polite people.
With the night wearing on, I was starting to get desperate, wondering if I’d have to find a nice outcropping to camp out under. That’s when the fourth hotel came into view.
It was one of those rugged travel hotels, the two-story kind that was all one building with rows and rows of identical green doors. An ample, snow-dusted space, nearly as large as the building itself, sat between the doors and the road. Several dozen carts were lined up outside many of the doors, quietly sleeping as they awaited their owners’ return.
While the hotel was far from fancy, that same fact gave me hope—hope that the other festival goers had overlooked this little cart stop.
As I pushed my way through the heavy wooden door, I was treated to a small, white reception hall. The walls were completely bare with only an age-scarred desk and a pair of those potted plastic plants to keep them company.
Behind the desk sat an elderly earth pony mare. Her drooping eyes slid between a set of spectacles to an open magazine—Photo’s Fashions, if my eyes didn’t deceive me. She looked up as the door swung shut.
“You’re in luck,” she said, cutting straight to the chase. “I had someone cancel earlier today.”
I nodded, resisting all temptation to smile. “How much?”
“Fifteen bits.” She tilted her glasses, the fatigue giving way to what can only be described as business.
Frowning inwardly, I nodded again. “I’ll take it.”
The price was clearly inflated, but in this climate, bartering was right out of the question. I could even hear my father in the back of my mind, urging me not to press my luck.
Once the paperwork was taken care of, I trudged up the beaten path to my room. I found it buried about halfway down that unending line of doors—an expected trial of any stay at a cart stop.
The inside was cramped, but surprisingly clean. My biggest gripe was that it only had a single candle. With proper lighting, even the fifty-year-old furniture might have looked more than a little inviting.
Still, the bed seemed clean enough under the covers. Not that I was going to sleep just yet; my quest for a room hadn’t taken that long.
My first temptation was to go out to gather information, perhaps find a bar. But I quickly discarded the idea as too risky. The streets were too sparsely populated at the moment, not to mention that even amongst a crowd, establishments like that were more likely to draw 'off-duty' Cartel.
Whatever general rumours I could possibly scrape together simply weren’t worth the possibility of alerting them to my presence. The next day would be far more valuable, both for gathering information and if things went well, exploring the warehouse. I was making the right decision.
And yet the uncertainty still crept in, my mind chastising me for all the unknowns in my plan. Reality and imagination clashed. The warehouse became a fortress, complete with thick stone wall and a regiment of security guards. Then the crowd—every one of them—was Cartel; all eyes turning toward me, boring straight into my soul. I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Frowning, I swatted away the thoughts, but they were persistent, returning shortly thereafter.
My mother’s stern face flashed across the front of my mind. I sighed, knowing what I had to do.
After checking to ensure the door was bolted, I found the widest space in the room and closed my eyes.
Calm. I moved my lips, though the voice in my head was my mother’s.
The darkness is your friend.
Focusing on nothing but that empty void, I took a deep breath. And then another.
You’re in control. That’s all that matters.
I pushed all thoughts aside, leaving only feeling. With nothing to cling to, it drifted away, slowly, but surely, becoming irrelevant. A shiver ran down my spine as the fear—and its absurdity—escaped my body.
With the irrationality distilled away, I opened my eyes. There was, of course, truth to some of the thoughts. I needed to be focused and on point tomorrow. Even with more mundane ideas filling in the blanks, the fact remained that I was still working partially on the fly. There would be no room for mistakes in my execution.
My wing absently caressed my flight satchel, where Ruby’s solution lay tucked away. Her instructions drifted through my mind. Just pour it on anything suspicious. If you’re correct, the ice will melt and turn green.
I’d make it work. I had to make it work; for both my friends’ and my own sake.
---
Some of the night’s chill lingered, leaving the morning air crisp and borderline uncomfortable. As the wind flung bits of fresh powder against me, I was grateful for my cloak. Of course, it wasn’t just for protection from the weather—I wanted to hide as much of myself as possible without arousing suspicion. This necessitated leaving the hood down, as unless the weather got much worse, it would merely draw more attention. I would just have to rely on the crowd itself to conceal my face.
Even with the festivities well underway, there was a certain unease, a coldness that went far beyond something as simple as the temperature. There were guards everywhere, their stony gazes covering just about every inch of the grounds. If the Cartel was going to pull a Fetlock here, they were going to need a solid plan. I didn’t know if this made me more or less confident in my ability to sneak in first.
The crowd was still milling around, laughing, talking, content to pretend that everything was just fine. Ironically, it was this attempt to act natural that made everything feel stiffer and on-edge. The guards simply didn’t fit into their safe little world and the wide berth they gave each guard was rather telling.
Looking back, if I had wanted to get philosophical, I could have found such behaviour quite worrisome. However, with more than a few other things on my mind, I was just grateful that I could hide more easily within the compacted, wilfully ignorant crowd.
I let the crowd carry me down the main path. It cut through a series of game tents, then forked almost immediately. Straight ahead was the park entrance, while the right turn led to more games. The crowd started out splitting quite evenly, although the ones headed for the park didn't get far.
A couple guards—ones who couldn’t be pointedly ignored—barred the park's gate. Most of the crowd was turned away, grumbling as they doubled back. However, there were a few exceptions, and going by their heavier clothing, from boots to toques, they were most likely contestants.
I supposed it made sense to keep the area closed to the general public until the contestants had had a chance to make some headway. If nothing else, I imagined the average person would get awfully bored looking at a pile of ice blocks for more than a few minutes.
Turning my attention to the booths, I allowed the crowd to divert me down the other path. Similarly to Fetlock, this section housed the standard carnival games with the usual array of cheap pop culture prizes.
I stopped at the balloon-popping booth, which wasn’t too far from the fork and had a pretty good angle to the park entrance. It was a decent enough area to monitor things from, but those same strengths meant that loitering for extended periods of time was either going to be suspicious or expensive.
Loud, hearty chuckles pulled my attention to the game and its players. Two stallions were taking turns ineffectively tossing darts at the wall. They laughed, poking fun at each other as dart after dart deflected off of the impenetrable rubber. When the darts ran out with little more than a couple balloons popped, they left, ribbing each other all the while.
A wave of melancholy washed over me. I knew going in that this whole affair would be a lonely little quest, but now… the whole festival just felt empty. With a shake of my head, I kept walking. This was no time for distractions.
After circling the entire games section a couple times, I decided it was time to move on. The players were all too engrossed in their games and the carnies too busy keeping them there. If any of them were working for the Cartel, they probably weren’t on the clock yet.
The path to the next section took me along the lengthier side of the park wall. Booths gave way to small, permanent buildings. Several branches broke off from the road, each running to larger structures in the back.
Unlike the booths, these buildings were purple, although a liberal application of blue banners and flags helped them fit in. Each fork boasted a tall, colourful sign that summarized which exhibits were on its path.
I tilted my head. Even if I had time to go see things, I wasn’t sure if such strange or basic topics as The Ultimate Apple Corer, The Making of Snow or The Legend of the Windigos would interest me. I couldn’t help but smirk at the one advertising the Fleece Expo, though.
In any event, I was glad this section was mostly indoors. Very few windows faced the park’s gate, leaving only one good area to watch from. Said area was a wide, open space, consisting of clusters of umbrella-sheltered benches and tables. With no signage or nearby stand, I could only guess that it was a sort of general lounge for any people who needed to rest their feet or hooves. And unlike the games area, people were expected to loiter there.
Moving on, I knew what the next booths held before I even got close. A myriad of scents, from fries to pasta to ‘elephant ears’, slammed into my nostrils.
The booths closest to the exhibits were the quick-and-easy fast food, but it was quite telling that the festival had decided it was worth bringing in larger tents for restaurant-quality vendors.
Each establishment had its own set of sheltered tables and cushions, in a similar fashion to the exhibit’s lounges. Most were completely unoccupied, though I was certain that would change in about half an hour.
The pasta, burrito and pizza tents all tempted me toward an early lunch as I passed by; their sweet aromas were certainly more persuasive than any carny’s sales pitch, in any event.
However, all thoughts of food faded away when I reached the sandwich shop in the back. Not that there was anything wrong with it; the smell was just as tempting as the others and the layout of the dining area was just the same.
No, it was what was across the street that demanded my attention: the trio of warehouses. As my eyes settled on the middle one, I was both embarrassed and relieved to note that it was distinctly lacking in military fortification.
The only thing that came close was the ceremonial Guard cart, the kind that looked like a golden chariot with wings and bore a jeweled emblem of the sun; it was parked out front in a clear statement to potential troublemakers.
For the moment, the situation didn’t look too bad. Absurd day dreams aside, the festival itself had me worried about just how many guards would be lurking around the warehouses. While I had no intention of fighting anyone, that isn’t the only thing affected by numbers. The more guards I had to convince, the greater the risk of someone questioning my cover story. After all, Ruby’s solution would be all but impossible to use if someone was looking over my shoulder.
Still, I’d have to be perfect when I made my move and there was no guarantee things would stay this way once night fell. And then there was the Cartel.
I’d just have to be patient and keep an eye on things. As I continued to glance around, I got this weird feeling, like the festival itself had somehow taken pity on me. In addition to being across from the warehouses, the tables offered a clear, if distant, view of the park entrance.
I had a feeling I’d be buying a tea or three from this fine establishment.
As I approached the warehouse, I felt my chest tighten with each step. Night had fallen, there was no one else around and the Guard’s cart was even gone. It was perfect, almost too perfect.
There was no way they knew I was coming, but I couldn’t help but feel the whole situation was a set up. Perhaps not for me, but traps have been known to catch things other than their intended prey.
Still, I had to make my move early that night, as to wait would invariably give the advantage to my enemy. The Cartel was more likely to act tomorrow, drastically increasing the risk of us running into each other and more than negating the advantages of an additional day’s reconnaissance. Similarly, the night’s darkest hours meant fewer non-Cartel factors at the risk of the Cartel either getting in before or at the same time as me.
This gave me exactly one shot. I had to be smooth and convincing in the face of suspicion. While this was far from my first time bluffing my way through a situation, the stakes were high enough that even a strong prop like my ID did little to ease my edginess.
As I trudged up the stairs, they were as lookouts, creaking and groaning to their masters. The heavy, oaken door, called forth by its companions, loomed over me, all too eager to judge.
Bracing myself, I pushed on into what was some sort of office-reception combination. Each corner was populated by a desk with accompanying name plate, chair and filing cabinet. Currently, only the desk to my immediate left was occupied by a light blue unicorn mare. ‘Even Flow’, according to her plate.
Along the left wall was another wooden door, this time watched over by an earth pony guard. I could already feel his eyes on me, even though he hadn’t moved a muscle.
Half of me was relieved that security was so light; the other was pondering just how many they’d have waiting in or around the warehouse proper.
Even Flow was hunched over a stack of paperwork. She applied a stamp to the current form as she glanced up. While she looked tired, her smile was a far warmer welcome than the guard’s.
She tapped a hoof on her desk. “ID, miss?”
I looked down at my badge, which had flipped around to its blank backside. Giving it an annoyed look, I nudged the string until the picture was facing forward.
“You’re here awfully late, Miss Strands.” Even Flow raised an eyebrow.
I held my head high as I nodded. “I was delayed, so I’m getting into the competition late. I’d like to claim some of the good ice before the next day starts.
A lump formed in my throat; this was the crucial moment.
Some people may ask why the festival doesn’t just keep pegasi on-site to create ice as required. I was among those people until I started looking for my ticket in. While making ice is easy, making consistent, high-quality, competition-grade ice is time-consuming, precise and even unreliable. It’s no wonder that the officials would play things safe and place an order with Cloudsdale months in advance.
Despite all the precaution, the very nature of crafting by hoof meant that the product wouldn’t all be equal, even if the margin of error was relatively small. The big question was whether I seemed hardcore enough to fuss over that.
Even Flow stared at me for a couple seconds before finally replying, “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, miss. Our competitions involve only the choicest of ice. However, if it would ease your mind, you may mark off that which you intend to use.”
I did my best to play up my gratefulness, which wasn’t too hard, given that the majority of it was genuine. Still, it never hurt to stick to the role. “It would. Thank you.”
“All right. Go on in, then.” Even Flow motioned me toward the door.
The guard stepped aside, though he kept his eyes on me, his stare reaching an uncomfortable intensity. I made a mental note to get well away from the door before trying anything with the ice.
I stepped out into the chill of the warehouse and was greeted by ice, ice and more ice. While the closest section held a few stacks of blocks, the majority of them were gone, their pallet-shaped gaps outlined by a mess of tiny, crystalline shards. The light from the hanging lamps danced over the frozen refuse, only serving to emphasize the dull grey of the concrete cavities. Everything smelled clean and fresh, the kind of scent that always came after a morning’s snowfall.
As my eyes continued toward the back, the gaps became full pallets, with each row housing a set of six. The farthest pallets blended together, giving the impression of one giant block of ice. Part of me just wanted to fly over and carve out an elaborate fort.
For every few rows, there was a pair of overhead doors on the left and right, leading to the street and docks, respectively.
One thing that immediately struck me was the lack of additional guards; none stood nearby and not so much as a single hoofstep reached my ears.
The doubt nagging at the back of my mind grew. This was too easy, too light, even for a trap. It was more like a calculated gap, open to allow a certain organization to operate without much fuss.
I swallowed, my senses involuntarily heightening. My first instinct was to rush forward, to complete everything as quickly as I could. The logical part berated me. This was my only opportunity, and the opposition had just unknowingly given me a golden opportunity. To draw attention by acting rashly would only leave me exposed and empty-hooved.
No, I needed to keep the act up, at least until I could get to the far end. There, I could perform the test while concealed, then slip out the rear exit. I took a deep breath.
As the anxiety left my body, I walked toward the closest pile, pretending to take interest in some blemish or another.
My first few steps upon the crystal shards crunched deafeningly, the echos filling the entirety of the warehouse. I cringed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost have thought the Cartel was already here, a dozen of their hammers grinding the stockpile into powder.
But there was no further noise, leaving me rubbing at my ears. Once they were done ringing, I swiveled one behind me, just in case my ‘hosts’ were drawing their own conclusions. Their voices were a bit muffled, but it wasn’t hard to fill in the blanks.
“Is this really necessary?” the guard asked.
“Come on, Crag, you heard about Fetlock, didn’t you?” Even Flow sounded exhausted, as though she’d just repeated herself for the fiftieth time.
“Yeah, but now we know what they’re up to. Who risks that much for a pile of uncarved ice?”
“Well, we do have more security at the park for a reason. And hey, if nothing happens over here, it’s an easy paycheck.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Upon realizing they weren’t even paying attention to me, I trotted toward the back. It was time for the hard part: figuring out which blocks were the Cartel cargo.
At first, I was convinced that it couldn’t be anything near the street-side doors because there was too much risk of someone else running off with the tainted ice. However, once I reached the end, I changed my mind.
Two pallets, which were fully-stocked and closest to the the door, were each marked with a crude mess of yellow tape streaming from a wooden sign. Lulamoon was scrawled across both signs in bright blue ink.
They may as well have read I’m the shipment!
After taking a quick glance around me, I set to work, fishing Ruby’s solution out of my flight satchel. It was a large flask with one of those fancy turn spouts that was supposedly made for those of us using our mouths. It still took me three tries to get it through a full counter-clockwise rotation.
The liquid itself was clear as water, a convenient excuse that I was glad I hadn’t had to use. While it would have technically been safe to drink in order to ‘prove’ that it was water, Ruby had warned me that it might throw my stomach off.
Eagerly, I tilted the flask, splattering half-aimed solution all over the nearest block. Nothing happened. Furrowing my brow, I poured a bit more. Five seconds went by, then ten.
I couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. If I was right, the solution should have already started working. But somehow, this ‘obvious’ ice wasn’t having any of that.
Spinning around, I looked for something, anything that could be a tell amongst the icy walls. But there was nothing, just endless white-blue staring back at me.
I slumped. There was no way I had enough solution to test every pallet.
That’s when I noticed a small line of green worming its way through the shards on the floor. I watched as one fragment out of a clump of five melted away.
Stepping back, I frowned. What am I missing?
Then it hit me. The Lulamoon pallets weren’t meant to prevent themselves from being taken away; they were marked off to discourage anyone from choosing the ten behind them. Most people would be taking the pallets closest to the street and then working their way in while the door was still open. Not only did this setup completely counter that tendency, but gave the Cartel clear and easy access to their ice from the dock’s side.
Hurriedly, I swung round to the nearest unmarked pallet and applied Ruby’s solution. Within seconds, the ice began to creak and groan, deforming as the liquid flowed among its crevices. The end result was a small, sickly green pool at the top of the block.
A sardonic smile crept up my lips as I realized my first instinct had actually been right.
Closing the flask, I tucked it away, trading it for an empty, handled tube and long cork. This design was a bit less unwieldy to hold, but was tougher to open without spilling its contents. Thankfully, I didn’t anticipate needing to pry it open anytime soon.
With one more glance behind me, I scooped up my sample, filling the tube as much as I could. I took one more pass, just to be sure. Pinning the tube against the next nearest block with my forehoof, I gingerly eased the cork into place. Quite frankly, despite all the concessions these bottles made, it was a wonder any earth ponies or pegasi ever chose to become chemists.
Just as I was finishing up, a dull crash, followed by several shouts, worked their way through the warehouse. I got my wing down just in time, my primaries only barely preventing my prize from being smashed against the concrete floor.
My eyes flitted over to the office. I chastised myself for even considering checking it out; more than my own well-being was riding on this information.
As I tucked the vial away in my bag, I headed for the rear exit. It was an innocuous, pony-sized door, just beside the farthest dockside overhead.
If the day’s observations were correct, the door would take me out into the alley. From there, I’d have any number of ways to slip away without being seen.
But as I pushed out into the cold night air, I just about ran headlong into a pair of stallions and their cart. One was an orangey-brown and the other a deep yellow. Both were wearing light cloaks with the hoods down, as well as leaning up against the back of the cart.
“Hey, that was quick. You really are good with the ladies,” said the yellow one as he stood up straight.
“Wait a second.” The orange-brown stallion cocked his head. “That ain’t Crag.”
Shit.
I was off without a second thought, hoping to Celestia that there weren’t any Cartel on the street. If I could get back to the festival, perhaps the presence of the Guard would scare my pursuers away. Failing that, there were plenty of places to hide, including the crowd.
“After her!” the orange-brown stallion yelled.
Adrenaline cut in and I felt myself gaining speed, to the point that I was afraid I’d trip over myself. But I somehow kept my balance, blasting out of the alleyway and straight through the parking lot.
There were no Cartel on the street; in fact, there wasn’t anyone at all.
The heavy, grimy scent of smoke invaded my nostrils just as I spotted the ring of onlookers. They were crammed, flank-to-flank, into the restaurant area. Some distance away that was almost assuredly not far enough to be safe, flames licked up toward the sky, trying to catch the roiling grey clouds before they could escape.
My heart fell. There was no way I was going to fit into that crowd, nevermind getting through it. I could fly, but if the rising heat didn’t cook me, the smoke would make it impossible for me to see incoming threats. And if I doubled back, I’d be painting a target on my back for any Cartel fliers in the area. Nonetheless, they were currently my best options and I had about ten seconds to make up my mind.
Eyes moving a million miles a minute, I searched desperately for something less likely to get me killed. A bitter salvation awaited.
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before, but not only was the park gate still open, but there were no Guard present. Changing direction immediately, I headed for the opening.
While it was quite likely that the Cartel had already infiltrated the park, the sheer size alone would allow me to hide more easily. Plus, if I found a chance to take wing, the trajectory would be far preferable to my other options.
Skidding around the corner, I held myself low, looking for something, anything to hide behind. The park was generous enough to offer my choice of several long, snow-caked sections of bushes.
I headed for the closest set, sticking to the main path as long as I could. Turning off into the bushes, I spread a wing, hurriedly dusting off my tracks as I went.
Time slowed down as I took my new surroundings in. The faint scent of iron, each creak of the snow, each hoofprint and its freshness; my mind documented it all. These next few moments were crucial and the bushes could hide anyone else just as easily as I.
Granted, they would have to be trying to hide too, but the thought wasn’t so far-fetched; the Cartel clearly wanted to keep attention off their agents, otherwise they wouldn’t have bothered with the distraction.
Luckily for me, it was unlikely that those on vandalism duty would be back anytime soon. The two sculptures that used to stand in this section had already been reduced to a shattered mess.
I also doubted that smashing sculptures could be done effectively by anyone who wasn’t drawing themselves to their full height. If the sound didn’t give them away, I should have been able to spot the top of the silhouettes.
Still, it was likely they’d posted lookouts and those other goons wouldn’t be far behind me. If I didn’t want to get hemmed in, I’d have to somehow move both quickly and quietly.
I scanned the snow mounds and bushes for any larger, better hiding places. Ideally, I’d find a nice, innocuous spot and stay there until everything blew over. Unfortunately, the festival organizers seemed to have converted the whole area into a perpetual stage.
Even having seen the entire area from above, I never could have anticipated just how low and awkwardly I’d have to move to keep myself entirely behind the bushes. It wasn’t quite a belly-crawl, but my body was constantly complaining that my joints shouldn’t bend that way.
Slipping up against the farthest bushes, I poked my head around the corner—and nearly yelped. A Guard’s head, beaten and swollen under his golden helmet, protruded from the right side bushes; they bulged as they struggled to contain his body. A shallow pool of crimson congealed under his head, with individual strands escaping down the contours of the snow like bloody tears.
For a moment, I saw the silhouette of Silent Vigil. I blinked. When I opened my eyes, he was the other guard again—another name on the Cartel’s long list of victims. I stumbled as my stomach wretched, getting my forehoof back in place just in time to avoid a spill. I had to look away, but I couldn’t.
Stop! Focus! my mind demanded. I shook the haze away, but the damage had already been done.
A heavy crunch in the snow sent me whirling. I faced that yellow thug just in time to see him lunge. I barely sidestepped as he whooshed by.
With my position already compromised, I decided there was little point in trying to find a new hiding spot on the ground. Jumping forward, I spread my wings. But my cloak refused to move and I gagged as it clung to my throat.
The thug turned, his head wrapped in my cloak, and wildly swung a forehoof my way. I hardly had to move for him to whiff, but I wasn’t getting anywhere with him tangled up with me. I tugged a couple more times, but to no avail.
Desperate for alternatives, I flicked a wing at the clasp, but it didn’t budge. With a grunt of frustration, I brought my forehead down, smashing it into the bulge where his ear should be. Just to be sure, I leapt forward, driving what could barely qualify as a body slam into the front of his face. I was aiming for the snoot, but I’d settle for anything that might throw him off.
The muffled scream was my cue to duck my head, holding my muzzle up, keeping it aligned with my neck. The fit was a bit tight, but I felt the cloak slip up and over my face.
I lashed out my hind leg for good measure, not even sure where I was aiming. For a split-second, I felt it dig into something, before deflecting off to the side.
Breaking into a run, I flared my wings, flapping furiously to get myself primed. It didn’t take long; the adrenaline did far more for me than my preemptive efforts.
As I launched into the air, I expected Cartel aerial sentries to come straight for me. But while I did catch a few loitering fliers out of the corner of my eye, they hardly seemed to react until I was already several seconds out of the city.
Somehow, they must have missed the fight below. Of course, there was a lot going on and I even allowed myself a smirk as I entertained the thought that the Cartel’s own diversion had covered my escape.
But I wasn’t about to let myself get complacent, keeping myself vigilant for the next few minutes. In fact, I didn’t even let myself relax until I was halfway back to Canterlot.
I noticed the loss of the ID not far from the city; or rather, that’s what I told myself in my fatigue-addled state. In reality, I was at least an hour away and still felt stupid enough to entertain the idea of going back. Thankfully, it only took a few moments for the impulse to pass. All I could do was hope the ID was lost and forgotten, buried beneath the Cartel’s carnage. But no matter how I spun it, I was still leaving everything to chance. The missing ID remained a yoke around my neck, its unseen consequences mired in the previous night.
Regardless, that persona was done for; a shame, because I’d hardly used it, but probably for the best, given that a Cartel agent had gotten a good look at it.
It was time to look to the new task at hoof: getting Ruby some food.
She has a bad habit of getting sucked into an analysis job and not emerging until the whole thing was complete. Without intervention, food, sleep and hygiene fall by the wayside. In fact, it was such a common occurrence that I’d heard her coworkers joke that Ruby’s actual special talent was converting knowledge into sustenance.
Since I’d set the pattern in motion again, I felt it my duty to pay her back. So I found myself wandering off into Canterlot to find “something edible”, as she’d so succinctly put it.
“Dusky!” The mare’s voice, one I hadn’t heard in a while, pulled my eyes to the side. But there was no way she could be here; she was off training in Fillydelphia.
However, when I spotted the orange unicorn, a short, green cadet’s jacket poking out from under her fiery red mane, there was no denying it. She was the same pony who had helped me unravel the truths behind the Necromancer and Pasture’s mad mayor; the same pony who had stood up for justice when things got messy; the same pony who was run out of Pasture as a result. She was Blaze, a trusted friend and ally.
She was already dashing toward me, though not quite at full tilt, as she struggled to maintain some token level of military air. A smirk crept up my face, but truth be told, if she hadn’t rushed over, I’d have gone to her just as quickly.
As she skidded to an awkward halt, hoof half-raised, I did my part and hugged her. She was quick to return the embrace. It was always strange to know that someone so impulsive and instinctual felt the need to hold back around me. I couldn’t help but wonder if the lessons of Pasture had produced lopsided results.
When we stepped apart, I eyed her up and down, noting that she’d bulked up a bit. “Blaze? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Fillydelphia?”
“Yeah, but they had to close up the academy. Said something ‘bout finishing elsewhere and next thing I knew, we were all shoved out here. Didn’t you get my letter?”
My mind drifted back to my apartment, to my dresser and the stack of untouched mail that lazed upon it. I gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry. I’ve been run off my hooves the last few weeks.”
“Is it serious? Something I can help with?” Blaze cocked an eyebrow. She knew there was little that could disrupt our correspondence and was doubtlessly aware I knew she knew.
“I... don’t know. It’s complicated, but I think things should be coming to a close soon enough,” I said, the last part as much to myself as Blaze. Once the analysis was done and in, I’d walk away and that would be it.
Catching myself before I could burrow deeper into my own thoughts, I turned back to Blaze, and found her tilting her head at me. I stared back. “What?”
She frowned, chewing on her words a bit. “You’re always so sure of yourself, like… like you could handle anything. This must be something really bad.”
I let out a giggle, uncertain whether I was more amused or nervous. “If that’s the impression I give, I’m afraid I’ve been unintentionally deceiving you.”
Blaze shook her head and pointed a hoof straight at me. “See? There it is.”
“Right.” Perhaps I was biased, but I was pretty sure she was mistaking being level-headed for being confident. “Well, if you really want to know, it’s not something I can discuss in public. If you’ve got some time, come get lunch with me; I can tell you back at the lab.”
“Lab?” Blaze stared at me, her expression torn between serious and playful. “You sure you’re not some kind of superhero?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s not even mine. Remember when I told you about Ruby? She’s helping me with the thing. She’s just crazy enough to work through lunch, so I’m bringing her some food.”
“Oh.” Blaze almost looked disappointed, though she recovered faster than I gave her credit for.
Still, I allowed myself an inward smirk. Just like the old days.
“Er, yeah, sure.” Blaze’s voice brought me back again. “We ain’t starting until tomorrow, anyway.”
In spite of the time we spent catching up, the streets were still relatively clear, with the lunch crowd only starting to pick up. The trick would be to find a suitable place to get takeout before the rush gained its full momentum.
As luck would have it, the allure of the first cafe we came across ensnared our nostrils. Nestled amongst dozens of too-expensive fine dining establishments, Courtyard Cafe relied on a large, colourful chalkboard to draw customers. ‘Fresh carrot and honeyed oat biscuit, side of lemongrass included,’ it boasted, though I needed little more persuasion.
I glanced at Blaze. “This place sound good to you?”
“Are you kidding?” She grinned. “I’m ordering two!”
“Of course.” I gave her a smirk of my own. “You sure you weren’t sent here to conquer that unstoppable metabolism?”
“Already did,” she said, puffing her chest out and striking a pose.
I clamped my mouth shut, trying to keep my amusement from bubbling out. While Blaze had gained some notable bulk, she was only now catching up to my own. Thing is, even way back when I’d met her, she wasn’t that much smaller than me. Although, I did have to admit that sometimes I was just a little jealous of her ability to get away with eating whatever she wanted.
With a nod, I trotted toward the door. “If you say so.”
From the moment we entered, it was clear that despite being nearly muscled-out by the finer dining, this cafe was certainly no slouch. Canterlot’s purple and gold architecture continued into the building, doing an impressive job of mimicking each curve and each band of trim. The ceiling was a light blue with white clouds painted here and there. Such a painting, no matter how well done, could never fool a pegasus; it was pleasing, nonetheless. Beneath the fake sky were solid, purple picnic tables, with plush cushions of the same colour built into the benches. And just in case that wasn’t quite fancy enough, floral etchings, inset with golden paint, filled out each corner.
At least half of the tables were already taken and the line of business ponies nearly reached the door. I was rather glad we hadn’t dawdled any longer.
As we settled in for the long wait, I turned to Blaze, eager to address a nagging thought. “So what happened at the academy that was bad enough for you to end up here?”
“They never tell us anything, but word’s going round about a pipe burst that messed up the first floor something fierce.”
I blinked. “Doesn’t that first floor see the most traffic? How did no one notice until it did that much damage?”
Blaze shrugged. “Who knows? They wouldn’t even let us empty our own lockers. Then all the real Guards moved into some tiny building and shipped us cadets away.”
“Seems like an awful lot of fuss for a simple pipe burst.”
“You think it’s foul play? Like them?” Blaze was on it in a second, her preconceptions betraying her. While I’d warned her about the Cartel’s infiltration—and respected her resolve when she said she was going to join anyway to set things right—I hadn’t expected her to see them everywhere.
“Probably not.” I gave her a meaningful look. “It’s hard to imagine what could be worth antagonizing the Guard like that.”
“Then what?” She stared expectantly.
Yep, juuuust like the old days.
I looked her straight in the eye. “I don’t know. Remember that all we’ve got is a rumour. Try not to get worked up over pure speculation; you’ll wear yourself out before the real thing comes.
“Er, sorry.” Blaze scuffed a hoof.
“Anyway, how are you faring away from home? I mean, as much as Filly can be called home.”
“Better than our first move. Canterlot ain’t that much bigger and the streets make more sense. Bit too glittery, if you ask me, though.”
I giggled, eying the table etchings again. “Canterlot does love its grandeur.”
“I do miss Mom and Dad.” Uncertainty filled Blaze’s voice as she stared off to the side. It was gone just as fast as it came, Blaze holding her head high. “But I’m my own mare. I can’t be hanging around forever.”
“It’s tough at first. Maybe a little…” My mind pushed long-forgotten memories forward. The tears as I parted ways with my parents. The cloud hanging over my head the next few days of school. Coping living under the care of family friends. But then came the more familiar memories. Letters from Mom and Dad. The joy that spilled from every inch of me the first time they returned to Ponyville. The frequent visits that followed.
With a sad smile, I looked back at Blaze. “No, more than a little scary, but moving away isn’t the end. You can still visit each other when you have time.”
She met my smile; it grew into a smirk. “Yeah, you’re right. I can already hear Mom telling Dad that next week’s too soon to drop by.”
“That’s the spirit!”
---
The Courtyard Cafe continued to impress: they had been prepared for the lunch rush. We’d reached the front of the line rather quickly and immediately found out why. Three ponies toiled in the back kitchen, half-hidden behind the wall of pre-packed lunch specials. Our order was stuffed into a bag and tucked under my wing before I could even consider stepping away from the counter.
We were back at the university in no time. I nosed the door of the lab open, taking care not to crush the lunches against the frame.
Ruby was still hard at work, alternating between a piece of parchment and her microscope. The chalkboard, which had been empty when I left, was now crammed full of numbers and formulae.
I motioned to Blaze to follow, then trotted over to the table next to Ruby’s. Not wanting to interrupt her, I set the lunches aside and took the moment to rest my hooves. While she often forgot to attend to herself, she’d usually notice when other people were around. Usually.
Blaze gave me a quizzical look.
“Just a little longer,” I mouthed.
It took three more circuits before Ruby finally looked up. “Oh! Dusky! Back already?”
I grinned and held up the lunch bag.
“Hah! You’ll have to tell me your secret someday.” It was then that she noticed Blaze. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Blaze, my friend from Pasture. Blaze, this is Professor Ruby Result.”
“Nice to meet you.” Blaze nodded.
“The pleasure’s all mine.” Ruby smiled. “I suppose I could take a break now. We can use the side room.”
The side room was something like a small, temporary office, the kind a professor could use to prepare before a class. I’d never seen Ruby use it for academic reasons, though. I guess she was just so familiar with her curriculum that she could go straight from her actual office to the lab.
As usual, we borrowed a few extra chairs from the lab and arranged them around the light, wooden table.
Keeping in mind what I’d promised Blaze, I made sure the door was shut before I took my seat. “So, how did it go? I hope it hasn’t been too much work.”
Ruby waved a hoof. “Nope. They’re all simple calculations, just a lot of legwork involved. I’m almost done with the write-up. I’ll need to make copies and seal the official copy, but you should be good to go in a few hours.”
“Right, your seal..." I didn’t know why I didn’t get the implications beforehoof. “Ruby, about that official copy. You don’t have to put yourself in danger for me.”
“Don’t worry, I’m already a verified anonymous analyst.”
“You are?” Silent Vigil flashed before my eyes. “But even so, sometimes anonymity isn’t enough.”
“This is the heart of Canterlot. There are enough wards and alarms that all they’d find here would be a swift and unfortunate end from one princess or another.”
Blaze raised an eyebrow. “Hey, sorry to cut in, but what’s going on? Official? Are you talking about the Guard and the Cartel?”
Ruby glanced at me. “She doesn’t know?”
I shook my head before turning back to Blaze. “I was attacked the other night, by the Cartel. Then they vandalized a festival, which hurt my friend in the collateral. I did some digging, to see if they really knew or if it was all just dumb luck. And... well, damning evidence is what turned up.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I could have helped!” Blaze planted her hooves on the table, leaning halfway across it.
Placing a hoof on her shoulder, I shook my head again. “Because I couldn’t. I mean, it would have been nice to have backup, but the info demanded that I act immediately.”
“Damn!” Blaze slumped.
I blinked, pulling away from her intensity. “Blaze? You’re awfully fixated on the Cartel. Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“I really wish I could help you! I wish I could help Ivory and everyone they ever threatened! I…”
“Blaze, slow down.” I gave her a short nudge.
She opened her mouth and it all came out at once. “Sorry, it’s just that Dad’s been working so hard and he hasn’t gotten anywhere. All the requests to the Guard, they just disappear. Then we found out Prideful’s father had a connection to the underworld and there’s just no way it could be coincidence! You understand, don’t you?”
I shuddered as I recalled Prideful Policy, the mayor of Pasture and the uncanny hold he had over the townfolks’ minds. Even Blaze’s dad, Earnest Care, and my good friend, Ivory Hope, two very strong individuals, were affected by his manipulations to some degree. To think that he might have a much longer reach than we’d thought was worrisome.
Steeling myself, I nudged Blaze again. “If that’s the case, then more than ever, we can’t afford to act rashly. Promise me that if you find out anything, you’ll come to me first.”
“All right.” Blaze scuffed at the table. “I hate these games.”
Looking away, I caught Ruby’s eye. It was one of those rare occasions when she actually looked worried. Normally, she’d just laugh things off and say something encouraging. But in our wordless exchange, her face clearly said, “This isn’t ever going to end for you, is it?”
I shook my head. “Me too. But we can’t fight on even ground without it.”
“Seems that way.” Blaze continued to play with the table.
“If you ever need to find me or… even if you just want to visit, come to Ponyville. There’s a bar called The Lusty Seapony. I’m there many nights a week.”
Blaze nodded a few times, pausing halfway through the third or fourth. “Wait, Seapony? Isn’t Ponyville, um...”
“Landlocked?” Sporting a renewed smile, Ruby seized the opportunity. “Sure is!”
Blaze gaped, eyes flitting between the two of us. “Then why?”
“You know, I wondered that myself,” I said, letting a smirk creep up my lips. “So one night I asked Barkeep…”
I was home, and yet not. While I’d been away just a bit longer than a weekend, it felt like ages had passed since I’d last been at the Seapony. As I trotted up the path, the bar came off as a bit alien, a warm glow concealing the chill of the unknown.
My stop in Canterlot had cost time, time during which information could spread—information which I could very well have given away in Hoofington. Even in the familiar places, where I’d be surrounded by friends, I had to be vigilant.
I drew in a deep breath. Just a little longer and this whole thing would be out of my hooves. Provided I could find someone trustworthy, that is. But if I could just get the Guard to move, they would likely draw any attention away from me, simply by doing their job.
Or it’ll just be the beginning of something worse, my brain nagged.
Frowning, I nosed the door open. Sometimes I didn’t like my voice of reason. I mean, it was probably the only thing that had kept me alive this long, but it would’ve been nice to relax for a night.
Night Flurry, Blizzard, Starshadow and Merriweather sat around our table. Despite the absence of Terra and Mahogany, the table was crammed full of an impressive amount of glasses. I really needed to get used to Merriweather’s contributions.
Starshadow was looking right at me as I entered. She bowed her head. “Ah. Hail, Dusky.”
“D-Dusky?” Night Flurry’s ears perked up and he’d barely spun around before he was waiving his hoof with a vigour that could rival Terra. “Oh! Hey, Dusky!”
I padded in, glancing behind me one last time as the door slid shut. Doing my best to smile through the fatigue, I trotted over to my friends.
Night Flurry stared at me, focused enough that he didn’t shy away when I stared back. Of all the times to start cluing in to details, he had to pick that night. Not that it particularly mattered, since I planned to tell everyone about the analysis, but still... he was making me a bit nervous.
“You, um... you okay, Dusky?” he asked, a hint of colour playing across his cheeks. Perhaps he had noticed my stare. “You... s-seem kind of tired…”
“I'm okay. I've... just been flying for awhile and had a few long nights lately.” I glanced at the others; they didn’t seem all that tipsy. Upon further inspection, it appeared that the majority of the drinks were still full. Which meant, if there was ever a time to break the news, it was now.
I let my eyes settle on Blizzard. “I found a few things out that you may be interested in, Blizzard.”
Blizzard blinked, apparently not quite on the same page. She looked at everyone else before finally answering, “Me? Err… sure. What’s up?”
My eyes flitted over the rest of the room. The other patrons seemed more interested in their drinks, but it’s not like that wasn’t easy to fake. At the same time, I couldn’t wait around forever.
I turned back to the table, leaning in just a bit. “Although, I'd actually like to talk to all of you. In private.”
With everyone informed, I snuck over to Barkeep. He was most cooperative, even letting me have the room for free. In rather short order, I had everyone filing into the room.
I kept an eye on the commons as I closed the door. While no one had been coming our way, that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone waiting for me to let down my guard. Once the door was completely shut, I turned my ears toward it. When a half-minute went by without so much as a hoofstep, I allowed myself to relax, if only a little.
Trotting over to the table, I dug one of the analysis scrolls out of my flight satchel and unfurled it. It proved somewhat uncooperative, and I ended up having to pin it to the table with both forehooves.
Everyone stared around my hooves, although Starshadow was the only one to shed her blank look. Rather unsurprising reactions, really, since I had to ask Ruby to explain it to me twice before I felt knowledgeable enough to clarify in her stead.
“This is a chemical analysis confirming a sample of plant extract I found.”
The confusion in Night Flurry’s eyes only deepened. “A... plant?”
I nodded, hoping the wording I’d brainstormed on the way back to Ponyville would be coherent enough. “The more I thought about it, the harder it was to shake the feeling that the Cartel’s presence and the vandalized ice were somehow connected.”
Starshadow’s eyes didn’t leave the scroll. “Intriguing... then this extract was mixed into the ice?”
“Yes,” I said, glad we weren’t going to spend the whole time with just me talking. “Ghost Leaf’s a powerful hallucinogen. A favorite among the rave crowd. And worth a pretty bit.”
Head held high, Merriweather let out a snort. “We don't have that kind of stuff back in Ostfriesen.”
The way Starshadow looked at her, I swore I could see the question marks passing between them.
Merriweather coughed. “Just... different stuff. Which the queen has outlawed, of course…”
I could feel a pang of curiosity tug at my brain, but now was not the time. Pressing onward, I simply nodded. ”There was another ice sculpting competition in Hoofington. I got a sample from their warehouse, and had a friend in Canterlot confirm my suspicions. That's where that analysis comes in.”
Night Flurry shrunk a bit. “M-monsters…”
Starshadow glanced at the scroll one more time before nodding. “Then you shall have to turn this over to the proper authorities, yes?”
Tired of standing on my hind legs, I stepped back, letting the scroll furl back up. “Yes, I… I think I have to. Especially since there can be little doubt about the connection. Two nights ago, Hoofington's display was also vandalized, and its surplus destroyed.”
Blizzard stared at the closed scroll, her question seemed more addressed to it than anyone there. “Why would they be smuggling it in ice blocks? Why bother sabotaging sculpture festivals?”
I didn’t have a clear explanation. I mean, it was a pretty reasonable guess, but without information from someone in say, the Guard, it was still just speculation. I tapped my hoof against the table as I gathered my thoughts. “I don’t know why they’re using the ice. Maybe their old methods of smuggling just aren’t discreet enough. As for the sculptures… well, my guess is they did it to cover up for the theft and make it look like full-on vandalism.”
Glancing at Blizzard, I took a deep breath, trying not to focus too much on the memory of the Guard’s corpse. “And before anyone asks, yes, there was a Guard detail assigned to the display. I... stumbled across one of the corpses on the way out.”
Blizzard scowled and shook her head. “Bastards. All seems a bit elaborate to me… but I guess I can see the logic. As twisted as it is.”
The room fell silent, though not for long.
“"D-Dusky... th-that means... you…” Night Flurry’s voice was almost inaudible at first, simmering into something I could only describe as a sort of indignation. “You put yourself there? I-into that level of danger? W-without telling us?”
I couldn’t help but glance away. There was really no denying it; as much as I’d tried to plan for safety, as much as it had been necessary, the very nature of my mission had required some rashness.
“I'm sorry, Night Flurry. Time was of the essence. I hadn't expected them to raid the warehouse that night.”
Night Flurry’s voice continued to rise as he propped himself against the table and pointed a hoof. It struck me just then that Blaze and Night Flurry had the strangest similarities. “We... We could have helped! Y-you go, telling me not to play the hero, and... I listen! B-because... I care about you... and then you put yourself back into that kind of danger without even telling us what might have happened?”
I met his gaze and spoke with complete earnesty. “If I had waited, the surplus would have been gone. If I had hesitated at all, they would have secured the perimeter before I could get in.”
He shrunk, suddenly looking more tired than angry. He stared down at the table as he replied, “I... I just don't want anything to happen to you. But... you're right…”
“I understand.” I gave him a sad smile. After all, it wasn’t too long ago I’d felt the same. “If it makes you feel better, my good luck was on par with my bad. They were so surprised that I didn't even need to draw my weapon.”
Starshadow’s nod was firm, a warrior’s approval that made me feel a little better about the situation. “The best kind of luck. I am glad you managed to avoid any significant confrontation.”
“Yeah!” Merriweather chimed in, a mischievous grin spreading up her lips. “You'd have kicked their flanks anyway, right? So what do we do?”
I sighed. While I knew Merriweather was just trying to be encouraging, it only emphasized just how harsh the reality was. “We can't do anything. If our little group tried to oppose them, we'd be crushed.”
Staring at the floor, I did my best to push the fall of the safehouse from my mind. Even so, glimpses of my friends in place of the Guards seeped into my mind. “Trust me when I say I know what I'm talking about.”
The room was still again. We were helpless. It was a feeling I’d never wanted to burden my friends with, but the Cartel had forced my hoof. Now all I could do was offer an explanation, a consolation prize.
Blizzard’s sigh was heavy, a delayed echo of my own. She looked at me, smiling that same brave smile I’d put on moments ago. “Thank you, Dusky. You put a lot of work into this, I can tell… and it means a lot to me.”
She stood, trotting around the table to me. But she didn’t stop there, instead wrapping me in her hooves and wings. I froze. In truth, I didn’t think I deserved a hug for all the trouble I’d brought with me, but I returned her embrace, nonetheless.
“I’m happy that it does. I… I wish I could do more. Really get them into the public eye. But the last time I tried that…” I let go and stepped back. “Let’s just say that it didn’t end well.”
Blizzard pulled back, as well, and sighed again. After a few moments, her eyes found Merriweather. With a guilty smile, she spoke, “I suppose I owe you an apology. I just thought it was you and some drunks being stupid.”
Merriweather giggled and waved her hoof. “Don’t worry about it… Not the first time I’ve been accused of getting drunk and accidentally smashing something.”
Starshadow cleared her throat. This time her glare was accompanied by a short ‘nudge’ in the ribs.
Merriweather coughed. “Oh. But yeah, I mean… I am sorry about what happened.”
“As long as I know it wasn’t just some ponies being stupid, it’s fine.” Blizzard shrugged before giving Merriweather a sympathetic look. “I’ll live.”
After packing the analysis away, I turned back to the others. And while I spoke, it was more to myself than them. I didn’t really expect any of them to have connections within the Guard. “Now, the real tough part will be finding someone in the Guard who I can absolutely trust. Or at least trust enough to not burn the report as soon as I leave.”
Night Flurry straightened up and I was almost worried he was going to fall out of his seat. He spoke softly, the words caught in his throat, “I... I kn-know somepony.”
I felt my ears swivel of their own accord. My first instinct was to be skeptical, but really, I had little to lose by hearing him out. “You do? Someone you'd entrust all of our lives to with complete certainty?”
In truth, it didn’t need to go quite that far. After all, it’d just be my life on the line. But I wanted to know he was certain beyond a doubt.
“I... absolutely,” he replied firmly, with a rare confidence that almost made me more suspicious. “I trust him.”
“A shame,” Starshadow mused as she stood. “It would have been interesting to engage with this Cartel.”
Merriweather giggled, shaking her head in imitation of Starshadow. “C'mon Sis’, weren't we going to practice your whole non-interference thing? They're handling things just fine.”
Cocking an eyebrow at Merriweather, Starshadow sighed. “I suppose. But should our friends be harmed, those responsible shall get the worst of us.”
I stared at Starshadow. Of everyone in the room, I’d never expected her to be the most gung-ho about a fight. It was like I’d temporarily stepped into some weird, alternate dimension where she and Merriweather had switched places. “No. That's too dangerous. This isn't about revenge. I needed to know they weren't after me or my friends. And to soften the collateral they wreaked upon Blizzard. We'll pass on the information to Night Flurry's contact, and then leave it be.”
Starshadow backed down almost immediately, as though suddenly aware of just how worked up she’d been. “So be it.”
I let out a sigh of relief. I was certain I could have swayed the others, but Starshadow was a bit harder to get a read on. If she had been really determined, I doubt there was much I could have done to stop her.
“Good. That's all. Thanks for listening, all of you.”
Turning back to Night Flurry, I smiled. “And could you stay a moment, please, Night Flurry?”
“Er... s-sure?” He settled on his haunches while the others excused themselves.
Merriweather, of course, couldn’t resist throwing out a wink and mouthing “Good luck!” before shutting the door.
Shaking my head, I eyed Night Flurry up and down. It was time to find out more about this contact who inspired such confidence in him. “All right, about your contact in the Guard: you're sure they can be trusted?”
Night Flurry thought for a moment. “Y-yes. I do. He's a Captain in the Solar Guard. I... I would trust him completely.”
I blinked. Captain? Hmmm, could it be… one of his estranged family? This could be problematic.
His ears drooped. “H-he and I... we just…”
Freezing up, he seemed to become lost. My skepticism grew with each second.
With a sigh, he found himself again. “We haven't spoken in a long time.”
I narrowed my eyes. As I’d suspected, he was making assumptions based on a dormant relationship. “How can you know he’s trustworthy if you haven’t spoke to him in so long?”
“He… he never let me down. I know he’s trustworthy… A-and we lost touch because…” Night Flurry shrunk down. “I was the one who stopped reaching out.”
Unsure whether that made things better or worse, I sighed inwardly. It wasn’t like I had a better choice at the moment. I supposed that, as a Captain, Night Flurry’s contact was significantly less likely to have Cartel affiliations, but still, I could never be too careful. There was nothing left to do but judge him myself and decide whether or not he deserved to have my information.
“Then, as long as you're comfortable setting up the meeting, this should work.”
“I... Yes. I don't mind. I... I'll write a letter tonight. And... I'll let you know once he wants to meet with us.”
I raised an eyebrow, uncertain if he felt obligated to be there. This could get awkward fast.
“Us? You sure? You wouldn't have to come, especially if you're uncomfortable.”
“No, I'll come too... if um... if that's all right with you?”
“He's your contact. If you think it's best, then sure.” I gave him my best reassuring smile. “I think I'll go and get a drink. I've had a long last few days. I could use a little relaxation.”
I trotted toward the door.
“R-right.” Night Flurry said, trailing just a bit behind me. “I'm... I'm going to h-head home. Get that letter written.”
“Thanks again, Night Flurry. You have a good night.”
“Y-you too. And Dusky... t-take care.” Colour filled his cheeks. “B-be careful.”
“You too.”
---
I was nervous. Not that I was trying to be ungrateful or anything, but Night Flurry’s description of the state of his and his contact’s relationship left me worried. What if this other family member didn’t want to talk to him? We could be waiting for something that would never come. Or even if something could be arranged, there was the risk that I was walking into something that could collapse into an argument at the drop of a hat.
I’d sent word to Lockbox, of course, exploring my options for alternatives. He was the only one I fully trusted to find a Guard contact, as he had as much reason as me, if not more, to be careful. So when several days went by without any news, I began to worry.
There was just too much at stake and nothing to do but wait.
I began to plan for worst: if the Cartel really was on to me, if my sniffing around had put them on guard or even if there just wasn’t anyone willing to help.
There was just too much to consider. Each night I found myself staring at the ceiling, mincing the details against it.
I was at the Seapony more and more, admittedly, binging a bit on a second or third drink. While the extra cider did little for the fatigue, it did wonders to keep me calm. Somewhere in there, I think I reassured Terra and Mahogany that everything would be back to normal soon enough. My own hope was the only thing that made it wishful thinking, rather than an outright lie.
Eventually, on the fifth or sixth night, the exhaustion caught up to me post-shift. I’d barely gotten home, hadn’t even had supper yet and couldn’t have cared less. I collapsed onto my bed, fading away into blissful nothingness.
The next day treated me little better, as I woke with my muzzle buried so deeply in the mattress that when I pulled away, the indent kept its shape for a few moments. I'd also flipped upside down, such that my flank was squashed up against the headboard. Somehow, I dragged myself out and through the light flurries of my shift. I wanted to collapse again, but my worries and desire for company won out.
And so I trudged toward the Seapony, my hooves not so much leaving hoofprints as cleaving paths through the fresh powder. At this point, I was pretty much ready to talk about anything, even Terrabona’s matchmaking wisdom. Or at least, so I thought.
Just as I neared the Seapony’s doors, they flung open, red light hanging off the edges. Terra shot out of the bar, practically a green blur as she nearly bowled me over. I stared, having never, ever seen her move so fast before.
I didn’t get a really good look, but fear, framed by streams of tears, was plastered across her face. Before I could open my mouth, she was already disappearing down the street. Something had terrified her and she wasn’t even sticking around to tell me what.
My body snapped to, the exhaustion suddenly gone. The Cartel had surely found me this time and my friends were suffering the consequences. Time slowed down as I turned my ears forward and edged up to the door.
There was chatter, lots of it. But for some strange reason, it seemed normal. Someone was complaining about spilled beer, another bragging about hauling a house across town.
“What? Wait! Terra! Aww, c’mon!” Mahogany’s muffled cry barely reached me through the door.
Finally, my brain couldn’t take it anymore. Nothing added up, so it was time to see for myself. Nosing the door open, I was not greeted by a room full of thugs, but a perfectly normal bar.
Mahogany was lumbering away from our table, squinting as he waved.
“Oh, good! Y’heard me!” he shouted about twice as loudly as was necessary. Meanwhile, at the table, Merriweather was laughing while Starshadow shook her head at the both of them.
I cringed as I stepped inside. Despite the newest excitement, my fighter’s instinct was settling down, leaving me with a sense of relaxation that just didn’t feel right.
Turning to Mahogany, I raised an eyebrow. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Oh! Oh!” His face contorted as he fumbled for words that weren’t meant for Terra. “Dusky! Y’gotta talk some sense into Terra!”
“Depends,” I said, glancing around in case something external had scared Terra. “Does this have anything to do with why she ran out of here crying?”
“Yes! Yep! Yeah! But, uh, I dunno why.” Mahogany’s face was clouded with confusion and concern.
I shook my head. Way to give me a heart attack.
“You don’t? You… sure? She seemed pretty upset.”
“We were just talking about her foal!” Merriweather chimed in.
“Her… what?” I blinked. Something definitely didn’t seem right. While Terra was a romantic, she was not the type to go getting herself pregnant off of a one night stand. And besides that, there was no way she had a secret foal with some secret stallion; she’d have been gushing over him to me the moment they met. Or even before that.
“Last night she ran off with dis foal,” Mahogany answered, flailing his hooves in the air in a way that might have been him trying to indicate the approximate size of the child. “Dint come back ‘til late. So I said she was like a… a Matron!”
Ugh... This is what I get for taking a break. I pressed a hoof to my head. “Okay… you sure you didn’t say anything else? Because this really doesn’t match her reaction.”
“Ahem!” Starshadow said, waiting for all our eyes to be on her before breaking into a strangely convincing Mahogany impression, “I believe you said, and I quote, ‘Matron Terrabona. All prim and proper-like, wavin’ a ruler aroun’. Keepin’ all dem foals all in line ‘n’ stuff!’”
I moved my hoof to my mouth just in time to stifle a snicker. “Thanks, Starshadow.”
“Happy to be of service.” She bowed.
It was my turn to clear my throat, although in a much less dramatic way than Starshadow. “Right. If I had to guess, it might be because you indirectly called her old. I mean, I doubt that’s the core issue, but it might have touched some other nerve.”
“Oh. Right...” Mahogany stood completely still, as though his brain was still processing. It could have been my imagination, but I thought I heard his brain creaking and groaning under the effort. “So, uhhhhh…”
“Yes,” I sighed. “I’ll go talk to her.”
“Thanks, Dusky! I’ll getcharound when ya come back!”
I smirked. “I’ll hold you to that.”
---
Terrabona’s house was small and simple, much like my apartment, except, well, an actual house with a real yard. Some of the paint was looking a little worn and the faint odor of half-frozen leaves made me question the last time she’d cleaned her gutters, but otherwise her house was always reasonably presentable. At least, the walkway had already been cleared right down to the gravel.
I stood on her porch, my hoof raised to the magenta door, as I tried to think of a non-awkward way to broach the subject. Not wanting to stand outside all night, I settled for ‘least awkward’.
Of course, that was assuming Terra was even in a mood to answer the door. Drawing in a deep breath, I gave the door three firm knocks.
“Go away!” Terra responded instantly and loudly enough that I was pretty sure she’d just been sitting by the door since she got home. She was also obviously drunk—I could even smell the whiskey from there.
“Terra, it’s me! Dusky!” I called back.
“I’m not home! Go away!”
I couldn’t help but narrow my eyes at the door, useless as it was. “Come on, Terra! Don’t be like that! Do you really want to lie on the floor moping all night when I’m here for you?”
A heavy silence fell between us. My concern grew with each second until finally, I just couldn’t wait any longer.
I tapped a little lighter this time before calling out, “Terra?”
The lock turned and I felt my breath catch in my throat. A few excruciating moments later, the door eased open just the barest of cracks. One bloodshot eye peered out at me. It was actually a little disconcerting, as the moonlight was too weak to reveal the rest of her face.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. Shee? Now go away.” Terra mumbled, her voice fading as she progressed. There was a slight waver to her voice, nearly lost beneath her breath.
I caught a glint in her eye, one that continued to hold the moon’s light as it trickled down her cheek.
With a sigh, I leaned in closer. “Then how come you’re crying?”
The door opened just a little more, this time held in the red aura of her magic. There were obvious dark spots under her eyes and her forelock was completely frazzled, as though she’d been grinding her hooves against it.
Still, she tried to smile at me, that sort of ‘innocently guilty’ look a filly gives when she’s caught with her hoof in the cookie jar. She couldn’t even hold it for three seconds before her eyes fell to the floor.
“Fine. Come on in.”
Terra’s house was just as cluttered as her shop, with boxes and cartons of something or other stacked against the walls in no particular form of organization. And just like her shop, Terra could find anything she needed without a second thought.
She led me toward the living room. The scent of old whiskey was already wafting into my nostrils by the time we were halfway down the hall, but it wasn’t until we rounded the corner that it really hit me. I wrinkled my muzzle, trying to adjust a little before pushing onward.
The living room was still laid out more or less the same as always with more boxes and cartons ringing the room. I was certain they’d have swallowed the room whole if Terra didn’t need space for her sofa and loveseat set. They carved a hole in the very centre, where the sole large window would have deposited the majority of its sunlight. However, Terra and sunlight didn’t appear to be on particularly good terms these days—the heavy curtains were drawn tight.
A long coffee table sat between the two seat sets, sporting a couple candles. They illuminated the floor just enough that I thought I could see some hardwood patches beneath the sea of whiskey bottles.
I stared at Terra, suddenly feeling guilty I hadn’t picked up on this earlier. “Have... have you been drinking all day?”
She scuffed the floor, forehoof knocking aside a bottle with a hollow tonk. Terra opened her mouth, but it was several moments before she actually answered. “Yesh.”
Trotting over to her, I took a quick survey of the bottles. There were a lot. Too many, in fact, which was in a strange, twisted sense, a relief. Even Terra’s legendary alcohol tolerance wouldn’t have stood up to this cache. If she’d really binged that hard, I’d already have been dragging her to the hospital or… well, I didn’t want to think about the alternative.
“This isn’t just about tonight, is it?”
Terra shook her head. “No.”
“How long?” I asked, not really looking for the answer itself as much as how she said it.
“I…” Terra slumped. “I don’t know.”
I circled around so that I was facing her head-on. “Terra. What’s wrong? I want to help.”
Once again, I already had an idea of the answer, but I’d rather have her reach out to me than press the issue. Things had better odds of working out that way.
Terra continued to slump until she was sitting on her haunches. “I’m old an’... an’ pasht my prime!”
I frowned. Then the spell still wasn’t gone and I suspected her ‘sexy’ wasn’t the only thing it had affected. We’d just been too distracted by the obvious.
“C’mon, Terra. You’re a beautiful mare and you know it. And I’m sure everyone who looks your way knows it.”
“But, Dushky, ish not just about beauty. The shexy is more like the thing in your thing.”
“Um... what?”
“The thiiiing,” Terra replied. She stood, dejectedly shaking her rump—and almost toppled over.
As I rushed to steady her, it hit me just what she’d been getting at. A chill formed on the back of my neck, sliding down my body, through every hair in my coat. “I think I see now. Terra, this… this isn’t just stopping you from feeling attracted to anyone; it’s preventing you from feeling attractive. Am I right?”
“Yeeeeeesh! I’m jusht an old maid now!“ Terra whimpered, as she threw her head and hooves into the air, her lament suddenly several times more unsettling. This wasn’t just about relationships or an urge between her legs; it was an alienation of self. She knew how she wanted to feel, how she was supposed to feel. And yet, this magic wouldn’t give her so much as an inch.
I could feel renewed anger toward Starshadow rising in my cheeks, wondering if she’d truly known what she was casting. But there would be time for that later.
“Old maid? Terra, why would you say that about yourself?” I stepped up beside her and gave her a quick wing-hug.
“Ashter,” she whispered.
My mind drifted back to the park, where the purple filly and her attitude problem had so kindly introduced themselves.
“Foals sometimes say mean things Terra, try not to let it get to you.”
“She didn’t! I mean, she did, but thash not it!” Terra milled the air with her forehooves and just about fell over again.
“Okaaaaay, let’s get you on the sofa before you hurt yourself,” I said, guiding her over. There was a small fleece blanket draped over the back that I hadn’t quite noticed, most likely because it was the same colour as the sofa and practically on the floor behind it. I pulled it over her before continuing. “Then what is it, Terra?”
“I… I… I rehpra… rehpre… reprimanded her!” She buried her muzzle in the blanket.
“Um…” I blinked. “What’s so bad about that? She’s not exactly tactful. As in, not at all.”
“‘Caush I’m like… like…” She burrowed again.
“Like what?” Leaning in closer, I nudged Terra.
“A moooooo-therrrrr!” Terra burst up from the blankets, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“What?”
Terra didn’t seem to hear me. “A-all naggy and chashin’ her around crampin’ her shtyle!”
“Okay, now this is about what Mahogany said, isn’t it?”
She looked down. “Yesh.”
Propping myself up on my hind legs, I gave her a tight hug.“I know this doesn’t change that it hurts, but he wasn’t trying to be malicious.”
“It hurtsh caush he’s right.” Terra slumped again.
“Just because you’re being kind and responsible, doesn’t mean you’re over the hill, Terra.”
“Responshible ish the end of the shexy.”
I couldn’t help but pull away a little. Her words weren’t malicious either, but they were certainly unexpected. Quickly collecting myself, I smirked. “If that’s true, then what does that make me? Certainly not someone worth trying to set up on dates with an endless list of people, right?”
Her eyes were drooping, practically closed. Still, she somehow mustered the energy to stick out her tongue. “Crazy.”
“Uh, huh.”
“Yeah! ‘Caush you… you gotsh the shexy an’... an’ you don’t….” And then she was snoring.
I let out a chuckle as I shook my head. “Right. I might be crazy, but I don’t think it’s because I don’t use my ‘sexy’.”
Terra’s only response was more snoring. With another giggle, I adjusted the blanket, ensuring it covered as much of her as possible.
After checking to make sure the door was bolted, I settled down on the loveseat. I decided I’d wait a few hours to make sure she was okay. Then maybe I could see if I could find her spare key and slip out.
Of course, plans don’t always work out and as I drifted off, I couldn’t help but think that this was our weirdest ‘slumber party’ to date.
In the morning, Terra was generally more coherent, but also tight-lipped about the whole business with Aster. All I could get out of her was that Aster had wandered into the bar—for what reason, Terra didn’t know. Predictably, Aster wasn’t welcome. Less predictably, Terra took it upon herself to escort the loud-mouthed filly home.
This was where she started getting particularly vague, but apparently they spent some time wandering around before finding Aster’s house and meeting her father. Terra wouldn’t say anything more, but I suspected this mysterious stallion was as much a cause of her discomfort as the whole mothering thing. I decided it was best not to pry too hard—at least until the ‘sexy’-suppressing spell was no longer an issue.
It was just as well, since that very same day, Night Flurry brought me news from his contact. I didn’t want to get overly hopeful, but his willingness to even meet was a good first step.
Getting to work, I provided Night Flurry with the details my anxiety had insisted I prepare days ago. We would be returning to the shadier side of the city, but I didn’t want to use my best locations. I’d settled on the Adorned Petal, one of the busier, somewhat fancier hubs. Sure, there was a slightly higher risk of being seen by a Cartel informant, but when dealing with strangers, I like places where funny business would have dire consequences for them.
We sent the letter express, and within two days, Noble Light was set to meet with ‘Ebony Mist’. I almost felt bad about using an alias, but I wasn’t taking any chances this time.
So Night Flurry and I arranged to meet at the Seapony for an early afternoon trip to Canterlot.
He was already waiting in front of the bar, its two stories providing little protection from the sun, which highlighted each of his features. Staring off into the distance, he fidgeted with the ground, no doubt lost in thought about the upcoming reunion.
His flight satchels looked light, something that would have been appropriate for a normal trip to Canterlot. But again, I wasn’t taking any chances. I had the standard survival and first aid kit, plus a week’s worth of rations and an extra bag of bits.
Trotting up beside him, I spoke just loud enough to get his attention, “Hello, Night Flurry.”
Despite my care, he still looked like he wanted to hop away from me. He just barely held himself in place as he fumbled out a response, “Hey, Dusky… you, um… ready to go?”
I smiled, hoping it would help him calm down. “Sure. Have you been waiting long?”
Night Flurry shook his head, his lips just barely fighting back as he smiled. “Oh, um, no, not really… just… been here, thinking.”
It was pretty much a complete non-answer, but I simply raised an eyebrow instead of pressing further. I didn’t need him being even more nervous at this meeting.
“All right. Guess we’d better go if we want to get there early,” I said as I spread my wings. To be perfectly honest, I was pretty on edge and just taking to the sky made me feel a bit better. The sooner this was over, the better.
Night Flurry wasn’t far behind, although I had to slow down a bit to let him catch up.
“Th-this will be my first trip to, um… to Canterlot,” he said as he came up alongside me.
“Canterlot is a beautiful place. It’s too bad your first time has to be for something like this.” I gave him an apologetic look. He didn’t seem to notice.
“It’s so strange…” He stared off at the distant mountain. “Canterlot has always been there, just on the horizon, but I’ve never made the trip.”
I glanced down, making sure we were following the tracks before I responded. With the exception of a few sections, the railroad took the shortest route to the mountain.
A giggle escaped my lips as I turned back to him. “Well, you don’t have to go straight home after we’ve met up with your contact. Maybe you can use this trip as an excuse to tour the city.”
Silently, I added that, even assuming his contact was legit, their whole reunion thing could get awkward or worse. Perhaps a little exploration could provide some necessary distraction.
As I came out of my own thoughts, I realized I’d gotten a couple lengths ahead of Night Flurry again. I held my wings a moment, letting myself drift back until we were side-by-side. I chastised myself, telling myself to stay calm.
But once I’d gotten a good look at his face, I knew I wasn’t the only one whose pace was affected by the weight of thought.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I… well… Dusky, I… I need to come clean.” He looked like he was going to start hyperventilating. The stare I gave him before I could catch myself probably didn’t help. “A-about my contact… and… what happened between us.”
Night Flurry shrunk down and I pursed my lips as I tried to keep a dozen questions, including why he didn’t say anything earlier, under wraps. Deciding there was nothing for it but to hear him out, I nodded. “All right, Night Flurry. I’m listening.”
Staring at the ground, his reply was almost lost to the wind. “He… I’m… I was in the Guard, once. A long time ago…”
I glanced back at him, waiting him to continue—and hopefully give me some new information.
“I joined up as soon as I was able to, volunteering to serve. I wanted to serve Princess Celestia, to… to serve Equestria, and keep it safe. But… I couldn’t do it.” There was an edge to his voice, a disappointed harshness he turned upon himself. He’d wanted to be a hero. I couldn’t blame him, since I’d once wanted much the same. Although, unlike him, I’d never had pressure from my family.
“You dropped out of training?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible.
“Yeah... “ He sighed. “It wasn’t for me… I just… couldn’t.”
I eyed him up and down, choosing my next words carefully. “That’s not your fault. I have some experience with that kind of training. Not everyone can keep up with the intensity.”
He kind of stared at me, undoubtedly remembering my mother’s entrance, which was definitely not a standard part of Guard training. Or rather, I hoped it wasn’t standard training to start an impromptu brawl in the middle of a public location.
“It wasn’t that… well, not entirely. I went through training for a few months… They said I was meeting expectations, that I was doing fine. I… I c-couldn’t handle the stress, all the ponies…” His ears drooped, taking his whole face with them. “But.. there… were expectations I could never meet. I’m sorry, Dusky.”
I wasn’t really all that surprised. His personality, for the most part, wasn’t the kind that would do well with the large crowds involved in mass training, nevermind the rest of his duties. And if he was pushed into it at all, well, that situation wasn’t exactly fair.
“What are you sorry for? It doesn’t sound like it was your fault at all.”
“My… my contact. He… well… I moved on to the Cloudsdale Weather College after that, and… then got the job in Ponyville. We… I didn’t contact him after I left.”
I nodded, suspecting that his family member had been a trainer and that his leaving would have caused all kinds of awkwardness. At least I knew things could still get plenty awkward, even when the training was going right. “And do you think he holds it against you?”
His eyes fell below again as he sighed. “I… I don’t know. I’m sorry, Dusky… If this ends up… I don’t know… I just… I wanted to help. I know he can help. I didn’t mean to keep causing problems.”
This wasn’t quite how I pictured things. I’d expected more conflict, not for the feelings to be so one-sided. It occurred to me then that, while this was a significant risk that I was taking, Night Flurry was also sticking his neck out.
I spoke as reassuringly as I could, “It’s all right, Night Flurry. As long as this information gets into the right hooves, that’ll be enough.”
He closed his eyes. I looked ahead. Canterlot loomed overhead, high on its seat on the mountain. Just a few minutes’ ascent and we would be there.
When Night Flurry opened his eyes, they went wide, as though noticing the entire mountain for the first time. “Whoa…”
Stifling a laugh, I watched him for a bit. He almost looked happy. I really hoped there would be something here for him other than doom and gloom.
---
Canterlot was as busy as ever. Even during a time when everyone should have been at work, it always seemed like someone or several dozen had some pressing matter to attend to. Normally, I wouldn’t have paid it much mind, but between the city and the people, Night Flurry seemed a bit overwhelmed. Thankfully, this didn’t stop him from following and we reached the Adorned Petal in short order.
It was in a little cove, just barely into the bar district and not far off the main road. Unlike the rest of the city, the Adorned Petal utilized a more down-to-earth, faux rustic design, with the entire squarish building being made of wood. To complete the image, a sign hung from a pair of chains, its scripted name carving the petals from an engraved rose. I pushed the door, which had been cut and painted to look like a giant leaf, aside.
The interior continued to do the classy country feel justice; sleek wooden benches and tables filled the well-lit dining area, while the tinted glass allowed the patrons to keep an eye on the street. Soft padding lined each bench while vased roses spilled out from the walls, letting their sweet aroma waft into the room. It was like those country clubs where millionaire nobles went to while away their days, but without the exclusivity.
The cafe was quiet, which was hardly a surprise, given that we were nowhere near mealtime and most of the ‘alternative’ business would have concluded hours ago.
“Can I get you two a seat?” The hostess, a pale red pony with her mane pulled into a bun, smiled.
“Actually, we’re waiting for someone. Wanted to take one of the back rooms,” I answered before producing the normal upfront fee from my satchel.
“Sure thing!” The hostess continued to smile as she assessed the bits. It wasn’t long before she nodded. “What’s the name for your party?”
“Ebony Mist.” I let a smile of my own creep up my lips. There was no real reason to believe that this part would have gone badly, and yet, here I was feeling relieved over the simplest thing. I was letting myself get too wound up.
The hostess scribbled something down before motioning toward a back hallway. Each room we passed contained a longer table and benches to match. I thought there were also a few pictures on each wall, but I didn’t get a really good look.
Instead, my attention was drawn to a mint green pegasus mare who was lounging on the closest bench in the second room on the left. Her blonde, bound mane bobbed around her muzzle as she looked up, peering expectantly into the hall. No doubt she’d be disappointed.
She blinked, eyes fixating on me. Or was it Night Flurry? I couldn’t be sure. All I knew that was that within a couple seconds, she was on her hooves, shoving the door shut.
I couldn’t help but smirk at the thought that she had just now realized that private rooms are only private if the door is shut. Still, something nagged at the back of my mind, insisting that that wasn’t quite right. As the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, I wondered if I should abort right then and there.
No. Stop jumping at shadows. I frowned. I couldn’t let myself be spooked by something so ordinary, especially in an establishment such as this. No, I would need something bigger. Or perhaps just a second coincidence.
The hostess stopped, waving a hoof at the next door on the left. “And here you are. Just let me know if you need anything!”
Once we were inside with the door closed behind us, Night Flurry let out a sharp breath. He looked like he was trapped between the jaws of a vise, about to clamp his decision in place. This was his last chance to escape.
“He… he should be here soon, then.”
I gave an absent nod, trying to decide if it was a good idea to address his nervousness. As I finally settled on the bench with the best view of the door, I determined I should at least help him see that final chance. I owed him that much.
“It won’t take too long to give him the information. You sure you don’t want to sit out?”
He slumped into a seat some distance away.
“N-no… no, that’s all right. I need to see this through.” He looked up and smiled. “But… th-thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it, Night Flurry. I should thank you too, for setting all of this up.” Smiling back, I gave him what little encouragement I could spare. Even if things went south, I wanted him to know I appreciated it.
Night Flurry lowered his head again, another, longer, sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah… l-like I said… I just want to help…”
I nodded, letting the last of my smile linger just a while longer.
We sat in silence for several minutes before the sound of hoofsteps pulled my ears toward the door. I rose as it opened, uncertainty holding me tense.
The door creaked open, and in strode a white stallion. His mane was a deep purple and, aside from the lack of cowlick, was styled almost exactly like Night Flurry’s. In fact, their muzzles held a very similar shape, though he looked much older. I wanted to say Noble Light was his father, but if I were stretching things, an older brother was also a possibility. His cutie mark was a shield bathed in light—appropriate, perhaps almost too appropriate, for a Guard.
Night Flurry leapt to his hooves and saluted. “H-hello, s-sir.”
Raising an eyebrow, I watched Night Flurry and Noble Light carefully. Of all the ways the conversation could have started, ‘formal Guard’ was not my first pick.
Noble Light paused, a split-second of hesitation I normally would have missed. Whatever Night Flurry was thinking, they definitely hadn’t been on the same page. Noble Light eyed Night Flurry up and down before finally responding, “At ease.”
While Night Flurry dropped his salute, he remained rigid. Then the two of them just stood there, staring. Whatever was between them wasn’t getting solved now.
Thinking it best that we move on, I cleared my throat. “Noble Light?”
He turned that stony gaze upon me and nodded. “Ebony Mist?”
I nodded.
“Then it appears we have some business to attend to.”
Inwardly, I wanted to take a deep breath. Thankfully, my brain knew better than to give away any tells. “I have conditions.”
“Name them.”
My chest tightened, as though it were attempting to crush itself. This was the moment that determined everything. I could only hope, not only that he would see my demands as reasonable, but that he would actually keep his word and follow through.
“I am anonymous and shall remain so. I can provide testimony, but I will not take the stand. If this is acceptable, I’ll give you the information.”
He took a few moments to reply, his face remaining unreadable. I couldn’t help but note just how different he and Night Flurry were.
“Very well.”
“Do you swear? Upon your honour?” I asked. Not that it would mean much if he meant to betray me, but at least this way I could gauge his reaction.
“Miss Mist, I assure you. My word is my oath. I promise you, by my position, rank and by the grace of her Majesty, your involvement goes no further than this room,” he replied, his voice without hesitation and his eyes never leaving mine.
I held his gaze a little longer. He didn’t so much as flinch. If he was faking it, he was good—too good for me to tell.
The odds were in favour of his sincerity, which, when I really thought about it, was probably about as good as I was going to get.
“Okay,” I said, taking a seat at the table again. I waited for Noble Light to join me before, in a voice I tried to keep just barely above inaudible, I related the events of Hoofington. Of course, I kept the personal details as vague as possible, and that was only if I couldn’t omit them entirely.
Noble Light didn’t say a word. He just watched and listened, absorbing it all like a sponge, and hardly reacting at all; only when I got to the Guard’s corpse did I catch the barest of frowns.
Once I’d concluded my testimony, I pulled out the sealed copy of the analysis, which he, once again, opened and read without a word. I was starting to feel a little nervous, like perhaps he didn’t even believe me.
I glanced over at Night Flurry. He hadn’t even bothered to sit down, doing his best to hold that same rigid stance. But Night Flurry being Night Flurry, his nerves betrayed him: he was constantly shifting and fidgeting. In fact, I got the impression that Noble Light’s stoicism was getting to him way more than me.
When Noble Light finally looked up, his expression still hadn’t changed. “I will see that this reaches the right sources.”
“So that’s it? No questions?”
He rerolled the scroll and tucked it under his wing. “Your testimony was quite clear, as is the analysis. I have all I need. Thank you for your assistance.”
“You’re welcome. I wish you luck.”
“You too. Take care of yourself.” And with that, he was gone.
Night Flurry let out a sigh that went on for nearly a minute. I couldn’t blame him, if only because I understood just how nerve-wracking the whole thing was, even if it was for different reasons.
“You okay?” I asked as I trotted over.
“Y-yeah… um, th-that went well, I think.”
“It did. Thank, you, Night Flurry.” I wrapped a wing around him, giving him a quick hug.
He froze, his cheeks lighting up like a Hearth’s Warming lamp. Perhaps I’d gone too far, riding on the day’s success—it wouldn’t be the first time I made someone uncomfortable with spontaneous hugs. But then again, it was the rare person who stuck his neck out this far for me. I didn’t want my friends to think I was taking them for granted. Regardless, I stepped back to give him some space.
A full minute went by before he finally spoke. “I-I, um, think I could use some air. M-maybe s-see the city. Would you l-like to come?”
I shook my head. Normally, that’s the kind of thing I would do, but it was starting to feel like I was holding his hoof. If he was really serious about seeing places, he would have to do some exploration without constantly looking to me. And really, Canterlot was about the easiest, safest place to start.
“This whole thing has left me exhausted,” I answered, a statement that was entirely too true. “I think I’m going to head back a little early.”
The question now, was whether Night Flurry changed his mind and decided to leave with me.
“O-oh… um… well, s-see y-you back at the S-Seapony?” he asked, much to my surprise.
“Sounds good.” I put on my best reassuring smile. “Well, go on, then. You don’t need me to guide you out of the restaurant, right?”
Night Flurry paused for a few seconds before he snapped to, practically scrambling for the door. “Um, r-right! S-see you!”
A smirk crept up my lips.
After waiting about a minute, I decided he had enough of a start to get out and over his indecision. It wouldn’t do for him to freeze outside, see me, then decide he’d rather go home. As least, I hoped that by the time I settled the bill, he’d be long gone.
The rest of my day looked simple, the kind where, even if I wasn’t truly liberated from the Cartel’s reach, I could at least spare some time to lounge and relax.
But as I stepped out into the hall, the voice of Noble Light called out to me, “Miss Mist, may I have another moment of your time?”
I could already feel the tension creeping back into the tips of my hooves. A sigh tried to escape, but I held my lips fast. Turning to Noble Light’s voice, I met his gaze; it was as impassive as ever.
“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my face just as neutral.
As he motioned back toward the room, I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d waited. Whatever it was, I doubted it was anything that had been simply forgotten—he didn’t strike me as the type to let that kind of thing slip his mind.
My best guess was now that Night Flurry was gone, Noble Light wanted to talk to me about the complicated stuff. The question then, was whether he didn’t want Night Flurry interfering or wanted to spare him from getting caught up in some really ugly stuff.
With the room secured once more, I gave Noble Light an expectant look.
“Night Flurry. How is he?” he asked, the words stretching out just a little longer than they could have. I thought I even caught a hint of uncertainty in his eye.
The question stretched even more as it entered my mind and I searched for a hidden meaning. “He’s… good?”
He studied me for a moment. Whatever he was looking for, it wasn’t there and especially not in my answer. He bowed his head.
“Perhaps I should clarify: I am not looking to start a fight. I… We have been apart a long time, my son and I. I wish to reconnect with him.”
I nodded. So my gut instinct had been correct—at least partially. Whatever feud I’d imagined between the two seemed to be imaginary. But something didn’t quite sit right with me. “Then why did you pull me aside?”
Noble Light coughed, a hint of embarrassment passing across his face. “I am… uncertain of his circumstances. Both then and now. If he is not ready to see me, I fear it may do more harm than good.”
It was my turn to study him. The embarrassment was long gone by this point, his face returned to neutral. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel he was genuine. It was something about the way he’d asked. It was almost… pleading without pleading, if I were to try to put it into words. It was then that I realized his face didn’t quite have that usual stoniness. More than anything, he looked tired.
As I finally decided on giving Noble Light a bit of help, it occurred to me that I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I’d never been asked so directly to profile someone, nevermind a friend.
I chose my words very carefully, not wanting to misrepresent Night Flurry, but also to give the bare minimum. While I did believe Noble Light, I also believed that whatever he was looking for, it could only be found by talking to Night Flurry, himself.
“He’s naive, I guess would be the best way to put it. As in, he has a sort of idealized view of knights and heroes. But he has a kind heart, the sort that wants to help his friends however he can. He has a weather job, one that he puts his all into. I suppose you could say he’s normal enough.”
Noble Light looked relieved—almost happy.
“Thank you, Miss Mist. I will have to write him more.”
“Write?” I let a smirk creep up my lips. “What if I told you he was still here?”
“Is he now?” This time, the surprise filled his face, and while his voice sounded absent, I swore he was still looking right at me.
I arched an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”
Noble Light shook his head, although it was more like he was clearing something from his mind than giving me an answer. “Don’t mind me, I think I’m just getting old.”
“Um… what?”
A bit of embarrassment returned to his face, scrunching his muzzle, before he relented. “It’s just that smirk... An old student of mine used to give me that look.”
I blinked, as a ripple of thought coursed through my mind, becoming a tidal wave. An old student… Oh, Celestia, he’s ‘Nobes’!
It was all so clear that I was ashamed of my obliviousness. While my mother had never called him anything but ‘Nobes’, it wasn’t all that far off from Noble Light. So this was the stallion she respected as a fighting peer.
A sense of budding familiarity spread over my mind, though it didn’t get far before I caught myself. Just because he might have been my mother’s mentor, didn’t mean I shouldn’t be cautious. While I allowed myself to feel more secure in trusting him with the Cartel information, I decided I should confirm with my mother first before getting all chummy with him.
“Um, okay…” I forced my face to remain neutral. “Anyway, he’s off seeing the city.”
Noble Light bowed his head again. I could almost see the plan formulating in his mind.
“That is all I need to know. Thank you, Miss Mist.” He turned to the door. “If there is ever anything you need, you know how to contact me.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
---
The flight home was liberating. I felt like I’d left all the weight of my circumstance behind me in Canterlot. While, in actuality, much of the burden lingered, the difference was still big enough to make me indulge in a few unnecessary maneuvers.
Despite that, I practically sailed across the downdrafts, and Ponyville was in sight a whole ten minutes earlier than expected. As I blew back into town, I flared out my wings, slowing myself just enough to drift lazily above the rooftops.
Deciding I wasn’t quite ready to land yet, I eyed the ponies below. The market was winding down with the sun; a small wave of shoppers trotted across the beaten snow, their saddlebags stuffed to the brim. Some of the stall owners even looked to be closing up early.
That’s when I spotted Terra, striding across the snow, glancing to her side every so often to make sure the pale purple filly was still there.
I squinted. Is that… Aster? Oh, Terra… So much for not cramping her style, huh?
Any prospect of enjoying a quiet back half of the day evaporated as curiosity took hold, dragging me down to the ground.
“Hey, Terra!” I called as I landed. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, hi, Dusky,” she replied, merely glancing at me before fixing her eyes back on Aster.
Aster looked up at the same time, giving me an expression that clearly said, ‘Save me.’
“I’m just taking this filly back to her father,” Terra continued. “She was playing hooky, saying she’s got some kind of gardening job. In the winter. Can you believe her?”
“But I do!” Aster protested.
My mind drifted back to Aster’s lonely sunflower. Is she seriously still on about that?
“Really?” I asked.
She nodded emphatically.
“Then what’s your boss’s name?”
“Mister Green Hoof!” Aster blurted out, though the look on her face told me she had second thoughts about giving up that information. Regardless, it surprised me. I’d thought she’d be unable to come up with a serious answer.
“Young filly, don’t lie.”
“But I’m not—”
“Green Hoof is a professional, which means he doesn’t need help to do his job. But even if he did need help, he’s not the boss,” Terra said, her voice firmer than usual. “There is no reason for him to ‘hire’ you.”
Sheesh, no wonder Mahogany called her a ‘matron’.
“Um, Terra, don’t you think you’re overstepping a bit here?”
“Hardly. School is one of the most important things in a filly’s life. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I thought back to my parents, and how they’d gone through pains to ensure I had a stable school life here in Ponyville—even though their jobs demanded they be on the road. So, while true, Terra had also completely missed my point. I tried to think of a way of getting the hint across without cluing Aster into Terra’s issues.
“Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant. Like, don’t you think you’re… ‘cramping her style’ a bit?”
Aster stared up at me, like she couldn’t believe I’d just said that. To be fair, I couldn’t believe I’d just said that.
Freezing mid-step, Terra’s eyes glazed over for a split second. But when they snapped to, they were hard and determined. She let out a cough. “Perhaps, but some things just have to be done. Now, enough talk. Stalwart will be home soon and we have much to discuss about a certain filly’s punishment.”
I sighed. It was clear that I had about as much chance of stopping her quest for mothering as I did her matchmaking. “Right. Let me know how that turns out for you.”
---
Because I clearly hadn’t done enough sleuthing in the last couple weeks, I checked in with Green Hoof. After a bit of prodding, he admitted he felt sorry enough for Aster to slip her a few bits. Turns out she took this as an indication of employment.
I relayed the information to Terra, who was less-than-amused. She seemed to be getting deeper and deeper into this crusade and it was really starting to worry me. Perhaps there was even more to this spell than what I’d concluded at her house.
After a couple days of fruitless research through arcane tomes that I only half-understood, I decided it was time to go back to the source. I would find Starshadow and make her explain the spell to me, line-by-line, then I would cross-check it with Twilight Sparkle. With any luck, the whole thing would be dealt with by the end of the week.
The sun had barely set when I nosed my way into the bar. I wanted to make sure Terra was mostly sober, just in case I had to get her involved.
The bar was quiet, with only the most hardcore of drinkers at their seats. Oddly enough, this didn’t include Mahogany or Terra. Or even Merriweather—in a technical sense. That our table was completely devoid of glasses bordered on eerie.
Instead, she and Night Flurry stood beside the table, chatting about something I wasn’t quite sure about.
As I approached the table, I allowed myself a frown, disappointed that Starshadow was not with her sister.
“W-wait, there was a payroll?” Night Flurry shrunk down.
“Of course! All the—oh, hi, Dusky~!” Merriweather spun to face me.
“Hi, Merriweather, Night Flurry.” I quirked an eyebrow. “What’s this about payrolls?”
“W-well…” Night Flurry began.
“Oh, just the Knighthood that Sis’ is dismissing Night from.” Merriweather waved her hoof.
“I… what? Knighthood?” I peered over at Night Flurry. He looked like he was about to burrow into the floor.
“What?” Merriweather looked between us. “Was that supposed to be a secret or something~?”
I glanced at Night Flurry. “I don’t know. Was it?”
After seeing him with his father, I had a pretty good idea what this whole thing was all about. It was for that same reason that I couldn’t be particularly annoyed. If anything, I just felt sorry for him.
“I… I-I…” Night Flurry looked at the door.
Slipping over to him before he did anything stupid, I placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Hey. Whatever it is, if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”
“O-okay. I, um, w-well…” He looked around self-consciously.
I gave him a quick nudge and motioned to the back rooms. Without a word, he started down the hall. I turned to Merriweather, raising an eyebrow.
“Nah, go on without me. I’ma see how Sis’ is doing with the paperwork.” She grinned widely, as she headed for the stairs. “You two have fun~.”
“Uh, huh.” I rolled my eyes.
As we settled into one of the booths, I couldn’t help but note that even though the Cartel stuff was out of my hooves, I had still found my way into yet another secret conversation in a private room.
Night Flurry was looking everywhere, except for me.
“So…” I tilted my head.
Night Flurry snapped to, looking at me for a split second before his eyes fell onto the table. “S-sorry... I, um... asked Merri to train me a-and... well, one thing led to another and suddenly... I was a kn-knight under S-Starshadow.”
I blinked. “That’s… quite the leap. But since it’s Merriweather, I can’t say I’m surprised.”
With a cringe, he dug into his flight satchel. He came up with a gold hoof bracer, which he gingerly set upon the table. I’d seen the things around every so often. Anypony wearing it could channel a bit of their innate magic to activate it and summon a blade. They weren’t particularly popular because the style required to use it is difficult for many ponies to learn, nevermind master. It was ornately engraved, no doubt with some sort of traditional Ostfriesen carving. However, the most interesting part was just how old the thing looked. That gold had clearly seen better days.
I gave him an expectant look.
“Merri gave it to me,” Night Flurry said. “I... I thought m-maybe if I learned how to use it, I c-could stop being s-such a burden. I just w-want to protect my friends. B-but it was all too much... I.. I'm no knight...”
He was trying, that much was certain. I knew, as much as anyone else, that everyone always wished they could do more.
Putting on my best reassuring smile, I waited for him to look up again before saying, “I understand.”
“Y-you do?” He perked up ever-so-slightly.
“When I asked you to make that promise, I wasn’t asking you to foreswear fighting. I just didn’t want to you to do anything overly risky. But if you just want to be prepared, I have no objections.”
Night Flurry paused, chewing on invisible hay for the next few seconds. At last, he gave me his own sheepish smile.
“Th-thanks, D-Dusky.”
I nodded. “Just don’t get carried away. Preparation doesn’t mean much if you hurt yourself doing it.”
His eyes fell back on the bracer. I think he mouthed something at it, but I didn’t catch what. Regardless, when his gaze returned to mine, he looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.
“R-right. I… I’m going to keep trying. But… I won’t lose myself to it. P-promise.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I smirked. “Shall we head back? Maybe we can catch Mahogany and Terra before they’re completely plastered.”
I was starting to think that if Barkeep ever stopped letting me have the back room for free, I would have to adjust my budget. Thankfully, that day was not today.
Good thing too, as I had other concerns on my mind, such as just how well a heart-to-heart with Starshadow would go. Sure, sometimes the others were so wasted or otherwise incapacitated that we might as well have been talking by ourselves, but going into a separate room always changed the tone of things.
Starshadow waited patiently by the farthest booth, an expression that said “business” written across her face. The question was whether or not she knew just what kind of business I was going to bring up.
I shut the door and trotted over. She waited until I was seated before speaking.
“Am I correct in presuming that you wish to discuss Night Flurry’s knighthood?”
“That’s one of the things. But since we’re on the topic, let’s start with that.”
“Very well. Has he informed you that he is no longer a knight?”
“He has. But that’s not the entirety of my concern.”
“The fact that he was even a knight to begin with?”
“Yes, that would be it.” I watched Starshadow carefully. If she was following my line of thought, there was no way she could have been ignorant to Night Flurry’s disposition. My gaze fell upon the exotic scales of Starshadow’s armour. “Why? I doubt many trained Equestrians could hold up to Ostfriesen standards of combat. You can’t possibly have believed Night Flurry fit for your ranks.”
“It is true. I had my reservations, even after Sister told me he had passed the trials.”
“Trials?” My imagination slipped back to the books of my foalhood, to Daring Do and how she had to fight her way through endless rooms of death traps for each and every artifact she recovered. To the story of Grand Trek and her ten-year struggle to return to her home and family. Or to the Twelve Tasks of Titan, challenges so difficult that even a nigh-unstoppable alicorn nearly lost his life several times. I caught myself before my mind could run away with me, in part because the stories weren’t quite exact parallels. Still, I couldn’t help but cringe.
“Yes. It is up to the recruiter to assess an applicant’s abilities. This includes, but is not limited to, cunning, martial prowess and physical fitness. Usually this involves pitting the applicant directly against the recruiter, who is, of course, not fighting her hardest. The details vary from house to house, but the bottom line is that they determine whether the applicant can survive our training.”
I cocked an eyebrow. Unless I was missing something, Starshadow wasn’t making much sense. “Okay, but that just makes it even more questionable how he got in.”
“To put it bluntly, Merriweather lied. When I found out, we had many words. In the end, we determined that it was not the knighthood itself, but the training, that he wanted. While his heart was in the right place, he had clearly chosen the wrong path.”
At this point, I think my brow was somewhere up inside my forelock. “So, what? Your solution was to just let him continue until he crashed?”
“It was a conclusion he needed to come to on his own. Sister was of the opinion that should we push back too hard, he would give up entirely.” Her voice wavered a little, but she didn’t break eye contact. “After much thought, I had to agree. As much as I disliked deceiving my friend, our best option was to go along with it.”
A frown crept across my lips. “I think I see where you’re coming from, but do you really believe him so fragile as to merit stringing him along like that?”
“In retrospect, no. However, our assessment did not have the same benefit of closeness that you two share.”
I blinked, the heat of annoyance spreading across my cheeks. “I’m sorry, are you trying to imply something?”
Starshadow stared at me a moment, eyes widening with realization. She shook the surprise from her face as she replied, “No, no. My intent was not to suggest romance. Consider that, aside from Mahogany, you are the one he is most comfortable around, the one he tends to talk to.”
It was a bit strange to think of it that way. I mean, with all his hesitating and stammering, ‘comfortable’ was the last word I’d have used. And yet, he’d confided in me many times, even revisiting a past that had clearly left its mark on him. It all seemed completely contradictory, but at the same time, it was a very Night Flurry approach to things. Perhaps Starshadow was right.
“I suppose that makes sense, but it still doesn’t excuse what happened.”
“Of course not. That is why we apologized to him.” Starshadow gave me a solemn, sincere look. It was the kind of disciplined determination I’d occasionally seen from my mother and—more often—in the mirror.
“All right. I guess we can move on to the next topic, then.”
“Which would be?”
“Terrabona.”
Starshadow’s ears drooped just a little as she looked away. “Is she unwell?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Are you sure all the spell’s effects are accounted for?”
“Yes. It is a simple, if powerful, spell. What is her issue?”
“Aggressive mothering.”
It was Starshadow’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I do not follow.”
“She won’t leave this one filly, Aster, alone.”
“You are sure she was not like this before?”
“Absolutely. She never showed as much as a hint before the spell. Up until then, she was all about the matchmaking. Not to mention she’s clearly aware she shouldn’t be hanging off of a stranger’s foal like that. Then I come back to find she’s latched back onto Aster and even reminding her of our previous conversation wouldn’t break her out of her mothering trance.”
“Hmmm, that is most odd. There is nothing in the spell that should do that. However, I admit that since my assumptions have always been based on an invalid sample pool, I did not properly consider the psychological side effects. Is it possible she is compensating for her inability to engage in this matchmaking?”
“Maybe?” I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m really qualified to make a judgment one way or the other.”
“That is unfortunate. Without further assessment, I do not believe I can come up with a proper magical solution.”
“Understandable. That’s why I’d like to ask you a favour.”
“I shall do whatever I can.”
“Could you write the spell down for me? I’d like to have a friend crosscheck it, just to be certain.”
“Very well. Give me a moment.”
---
Starshadow’s spell checked out. According to Twilight, it did exactly as advertised and nothing more. Which meant that Terra’s libido was such an intrinsic part of her personality that removing it practically made her another person. I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than the prospect of her behaviour being overwritten by magic.
The thoughts weighed heavily on me throughout the entirety of my afternoon shift. Thankfully, Winter Wrap Up had just happened, so I could afford to be a bit distracted when it came to the less intense rain clouds. By the end, I could only come to a single conclusion: I never thought I’d see the day when I missed her meddling.
I’d just clocked out when Mahogany strolled in. Which was strange—not because he was here, but because he wasn’t lugging a half-dozen parcels through the doorway. He made a beeline for me.
I tilted my head. “Hi, Mahogany. What’s going on?”
“Hey, Dusky. Some guardspony is outside looking for you.”
I smirked. Just like Blaze to get bored waiting at the Seapony.
“Orange unicorn mare with a red mane?”
Mahogany shook his head. “Nah, he’s a he and he’s brown.”
The smirk faded from my lips. “Strange. Did he say what it was all about?”
“Something or other about private business.”
My heart sank. Is Noble Light already breaking his promise? Am I never to be free of this? Or something else?
A nagging little detail, in the shape of an ID badge, drifted in from the back of my mind. The downside of a totally anonymous submission was that it did nothing to protect me if the incident itself led them to me. My first instinct was to go out the back door.
Calm down. There’s no need to jump to conclusions, I told myself, preemptively shutting down my imagination. He could just be looking for witnesses. And if worst came to worst, I could discreetly drop Noble’s name. For the moment, I needed more information and if I knew one thing for certain: avoiding him would only cast suspicion on me.
“Hey, Dusky, you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, just thinking. Let’s go meet this guy.”
---
It didn’t take long for us to find the guardspony, even in the crowded town square. He was a chestnut unicorn, clad in full Guard armour, which stuck out like a sore hoof amongst the Ponyville populace.
“Here you go, officer. Found her!” Mahogany called out as we approached.
The guardspony turned his head, his soft orange eyes catching and holding mine. There was a certain warmth to them, an inherent feeling of safety.
“Dusky Down?” His question broke my reverie.
I nodded. If he already knew my real name, I needed to get whatever this was addressed as quickly as possible. “And you are?”
He stood at attention. “Sergeant Light Horn, Equestrian National Investigation, ma’am.”
“And what can I do for you?”
“We believe you have information regarding a certain incident in Hoofington.”
Mahogany looked straight at me, the doubt in his eyes asking, ‘What now?’
To his credit, those were the extent of his tells, but there was little chance Light Horn didn’t pick up on it. Still, I decided it was preferable to make him work for it, so I could get a better read on him.
“And what makes you think that?”
“We have reason to believe you were in Hoofington, entering a certain warehouse on the night of the incident.”
“And?” I raised an eyebrow.
“And we believe you have a story to tell.” He was confident, I’ll give him that. Perhaps he was used to charming everyone into cooperation, but it would take more than a friendly face to persuade me.
“What if I have nothing to say?”
Light Horn’s expression hardened ever-so-slightly. “I would wonder why an innocent pony would refuse to give her account.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mahogany open his mouth, a wise crack most likely on the tip of his tongue. But when I caught his eye, his jaw snapped shut.
“Are you trying to imply something?” I met Light Horn’s stare with my own.
“I’m saying you’re walking a fine line between witness and suspect.” He turned a forehoof up. “I can’t help you if you say nothing.”
At this point, I definitely had to satisfy him enough to make him go away. It wouldn’t do to have an open trail leading back to Ponyville.
“I suppose I have no choice, then.”
“Sorry.” The hardness evaporated from Light Horn’s face. “We’ve got a private room at the inn, so if you’ll follow me, I’ll try to make this as fast as possible.”
“No.” I shook my head. One agent was already one too many to deal with. The last thing I wanted was to end up in an interrogation room with several of them.
“What?” This time, surprise spread across his face. I suppose he didn’t expect me to have conditions.
“We do it on my terms. I want to use a place where I feel safe.” Where that was, I didn’t quite know. Just that it wasn’t the Seapony. I needed somewhere disposable. Then it came to me. There was an old warehouse, behind the one the weather office owned, that no one ever used.
He paused, looking for just a moment like he was thinking about arguing. “As you wish. Lead the way.”
I turned to Mahogany. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
----
We were barely three streets from the town square and it was already strangely empty. I supposed that traffic in this area was never that high to begin with, but it still felt a little odd. On the upside, it would make being alone with Light Horn easier.
A breeze drifted through, picking up some of the loose dirt. I tucked my muzzle into my scarf as the grains pelted my coat. Once the wind had died down, I shook myself out, the dirt making tiny crackles as they bounced off the nearby wall.
Light Horn coughed under his helmet, its golden paint highlighted by the descending sun. I supposed it wouldn’t do much to protect against errant grit. Still, he didn’t break pace as he marched onward, his barding bobbing in rhythm to his steps.
We’d said little since we’d parted from Mahogany, which wasn’t particularly surprising. The business ahead of us wasn’t exactly mirth-inspiring.
Perhaps after this discussion was done, regardless of whether I needed to play the Noble Light card or not, I’d have to contact him and see if he could do anything to preempt any more unwelcome visits.
I couldn’t help but wonder who had seen me enter that warehouse, since I’d been wearing my cloak. Perhaps it wasn’t even a ‘who’, but a ‘what’. My entry would have been logged and if someone had been persistent enough, as well as found my lost ID, they might have been able to piece something together. I cursed my carelessness.
As I thought more on it, I came to realize that it wasn’t the accusations that bothered me. It was a nagging feeling in my mind, insistently pulling my attention away again and again. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my hoof on it. The best I could come up with was that Light Hoof was just a bit too charismatic. Which wasn’t a big deal, really—I’d just have to be more careful during our discussion, that’s all.
And yet… my mind wouldn’t let it be.
My ear twitched, picking up the faint crunching of gravel behind me. I tilted my head a little, glancing out of the corner of my eye. Two shadows.
I felt a little colder.
Are we being followed or am I just being paranoid?
The road was coming to an end, its wings diverging and forming a T-intersection. Light Horn turned back to me, an expectant expression on his face.
Time to find out.
“Left,” I said, keeping an eye on him. He nodded, but said nothing else.
Bit by bit, despite the weather being spring, the cold was taking hold.
We were among the warehouses now. They weren’t anything huge, not like Hoofington. A smaller city like Ponyville benefitted much more from quantity over size. That is, more businesses could find affordable storage, which leveled the playing field for local owners.
And so, as we traversed the street, a mix of large, ascending wooden and steel doors loomed over us, almost comically, as they took up the majority of the face of each squat, square building. While the odd one out did have a second story, the proportions still didn’t do them many favours.
The two shadows rounded the corner and I caught a glimpse of them. Earth pony stallions, both clad in Royal Guard armour. That settled it.
The question, then, was why two guards were skulking around behind me like a couple of muggers. The easy answer was, of course, that they wanted to keep their agent safe. Some part of me really wanted to believe that, but the more I thought about it, it just didn’t sit right with me; if they’d really found me that threatening, they would have just arrested me. No, there was something off about them, almost sinister.
As I continued to watch, I realized it was their gait. Unlike Light Horn, these guys were awkward and weighed down by their armour. While I didn’t know a whole lot about the Guard, I had a sneaking suspicion even cadets wouldn’t come out of training looking like that.
So those two were obviously imposters, but I still didn’t know if Light Horn was friend or foe. I really, truly wanted to believe the former. Even just looking at him, I felt safe from the advancing thugs. But another, nagging part of me, told me I couldn’t risk it; I couldn’t trust anyone I didn’t know.
I glanced up. The clouds just ahead were denser, forming something that resembled a forest canopy. It would certainly explain why the air was a bit cooler here. I mulled it over. If I could get into the air, they’d never catch me. The clouds would be perfect for hiding a pegasus like me. Or pegasi waiting to ambush me.
I cringed inwardly. Suddenly, the expanse of cloud was quite daunting; there was no telling how many pegasi were up there. I could run. But evading two earth ponies by running straight at them was a poor gamble. And there was no telling what kind of magic the unicorn could do. My imagination immediately set itself to work on that one.
Fighting wasn’t an option, either. I just wasn’t going to win a three-on-one. Even if I could get my wingblade out in time, they were armoured, to say nothing of whatever weapons they may have brought.
I could delay, but eventually they’d catch on that I’d caught on and I’d lose what little advantage I had.
We passed under the clouds and something strange happened. Light Horn’s helmet continued to glow. It was faint, just the barest of golds, but it was an all-encompassing light that clearly shouldn’t have been there. As the realization hit me, I finally understood where the warmth was coming from.
Magic. I shivered.
This whole thing had been a trap and somehow, I’d walked right into it. With all the obvious avenues cut off, the warehouses were my best bet. If I got in among the maze of alleyways, perhaps I could lose them.
“Right, coming up,” I said, motioning my head toward the intersection.
Light Horn nodded again.
I waited until we’d passed the second-last alley before the corner. My eyes fell back to the earth ponies one last time. They were still quite a few paces behind. Even if they reacted immediately, I’d still have some time.
Three... two... one!
I turned and bolted, doubling back and into the alley. A flurry of hoofbeats filled the air around me.
The farther away I got, the colder—and better—I felt. It was like a fog lifting from my mind, one thin layer at a time.
I rounded a corner and screeched to a halt, just shy of ramming my muzzle into a wall. It was a dead end, one with a scuffed-up wooden door, but still. I glanced up. No, it was too soon to evade their aerial sentries. I’d only reveal myself prematurely.
“Get her!” someone shouted, pulling my eyes behind me. Two shadows were barreling down the alley, maybe ten seconds away.
With a deep breath, I pivoted, slamming my hind legs into the door with all my might, hoping against all odds that it would open.
With a feeble crack, it gave way so easily that I almost fell over. A deafening crunch echoed down the alley as the door slammed into the inner warehouse wall.
Great, now the whole block knows where I am.
I really couldn’t complain, though. Slipping into the open door, I glanced around. There were crates stacked anywhere and everywhere, with no obvious logical pattern to their placement.
Swinging round, I rammed my side against the door, smashing it into the door jam. The lock dislodged itself, clattering to the floor, which was no matter, really; if it couldn’t even hold against me, it wouldn’t do anything to stop a group of angry thugs.
There was, however, a tower of crates just to the side of the door. Without thinking, I circled around and threw my whole body, chest first, at them. The base barely moved, but the top half was only happy to oblige. They toppled right over with a thunderous crash, the lid exploding in a shower of dusty books.
Not a moment later, something hit the door from the other side, followed by a long string of expletives.
I spun around, searching for a sign of any other exit. There was no way those crates would hold them for long, and I needed to get out before I was surrounded.
The old floorboards protested as I dashed around the perimeter of the far wall. The only other entrance was the heavy main door—not exactly a good gamble. Of course, even if I’d been willing to try, the pulley lay in a tangled wreck on the floor, taunting me.
My eyes darted around, looking for something, anything. As luck would have it, I’d chosen a two-story warehouse. A staircase ran along the wall to my right, doubling up on itself before reaching the loft.
I galloped as hard as I could, reaching the top in a time that would make Rainbow Dash proud. As I cleared the final step, I dug my muzzle into my scarf, pulling my wingblade from its sheathe.
While I attached the blade to my wing, I glanced around, hoping for some sort of balcony door. But the second floor was only an isolated half-loft, crammed full of crates and sacks. A lonely railing ran the edge of the loft, from the wall to the stairwell, where it merged with the stairwell’s. At least I had a decent view of the floor below.
A final crack drew my eyes below, where splinters spewed across the floor. A couple more cracks and the rest of the door came down in larger chunks.
“Moooooonlit.” Light Horn’s voice wafted up.
The two earth ponies and a pegasus mare tromped into the main area. The pegasus stopped in the centre of the room while the others started plowing through the mess of crates.
“Or perhaps you prefer Indigo? Or maybe Dusky, hmmm? Tsk. You sure like your false identities, don’t you, you naughty girl?” Light Horn wagged a forehoof. “There’s no escape, you know. Come quietly so we don’t have to mess up that pretty face of yours.”
I glanced around, guessing they would be smarter than to leave the door unguarded. The upper floor had little to offer. What few windows it had were far too small.
My eyes returned to the stairwell and the larger, circular window sitting high above the mid-level. There.
If I tucked my wings, I might just be able to fit. But first I needed to deal with that glass.
Creak, the stairs groaned. They were coming. I stood stock still, unwilling to give away my position.
That’s when I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye, a lonely little sandbag, about half the size of the other sacks. I crept over, taking it in my teeth.
I could hear the careful, muted steps. Surely, they were at least halfway up by now. This meant I had one chance and one chance only.
Steady...
I spun with all my might, releasing the bag at just the right time. A helmeted head poked itself halfway above the stairs, falling back out of sight with a yelp as the bag whizzed by.
I rushed forward, the sound of shattering glass bringing the barest smile to my lips.
He never saw it coming, my firm buck sending the earth pony guard tumbling down the stairs. The second earth pony, who was making his way up the mid-level, leapt over him, just narrowly avoiding being bowled over.
The second earth pony charged straight up the remaining stairs. I held my ground. If I could keep him there, he’d be at a severe disadvantage.
He swung wildly, his long forehooves smashing into the floor, but a quick backstep put me out of reach. I countered with a quick forehoof swipe of my own, catching him in the side of the jaw. Somewhat predictably, he kept pressing forward.
I backed up some more, letting him waste his energy as I waited for an opening. When he tossed his head, I knew it was time. I dashed in, slamming my full weight into his neck before pushing away, taking a swipe with my blade as I went. I scowled. It wasn’t a total miss, but the blood trickling from his neck was little more than a flesh wound.
He came at me like a crazed Ursa and this time, he was able to push clear of the stairs.
However, I wasn’t about to let him have it for free. I circled right, giving myself the majority of the floor to work with. Ducking under a particularly vicious swipe, I brought my head up. I felt something give as he stumbled away.
One, two. And buck!
He crashed into the railing—then straight through it. He toppled over the edge with a scream. The whole warehouse seemed to shake as he impacted the first floor.
I cringed, almost tempted to look, but there was no time. Plus there could only be one outcome from a spill like that.
Instead, I put my energy toward shoving everything that was near the stairs straight down it. Crates, sacks and their contents tumbled over the edge, followed by much shouting and cursing. Then silence.
I stole a peek down the stairs. Only a couple hooves protruded from the mess of books, splinters and papers. A particularly large sack sat right on top of his muzzle.
Two down. Who knows how many to go...
There was a thunk behind me. I knew it had to be the pegasus. I knew I was in trouble. Spinning wildly, I swiped blindly with my wingblade. It fell completely short, but at least it gave me some space to work with.
A glint of light caught my eye. She was using a wingblade too. Not only that, but she was larger than me.
Her counterattack came quickly, a precise thrust that I barely parried.
Stepping to the left, I brought my wing across again, this time cleaving top to bottom. But this one was quicker and less about brute force.
She backed away before coming for a quick horizontal cut. I ducked just in time, or so I thought. A sticky warmness trickled down my left cheek. But it was shallow, a nick that I barely felt.
With a grimace, it was my turn to press forward. Even if Light Horn was watching the door, he was a unicorn. He was undoubtedly searching for a good angle to snipe me from with some spell or another.
I feinted left before slashing upward. The pegasus pulled her head away. I knew she would, as it had become clear she was watching my blade very carefully. Thing is, it’s pretty easy to get fixated on the weapon to the exclusion of everything else. And that’s just what I was banking on.
Leaping forward, I smashed my forehead dead into the centre of her muzzle. With a screech, she stumbled back, but not before I felt something dig into my side.
This time the cut burned like fire, searing the nerves and muscle just behind my foreleg. I knew it wasn’t that deep, at least not with that much pain, but there was already an undeniable stickiness creeping down my leg.
Stupid...
I was out of time. It was do or die.
Taking one more swipe as I spun, I didn’t bother to check if I’d connected. All my focus was on my gallop as I limped my way toward the top of the stairs.
Ahead of me, the window was like a shark’s maw, its jagged fragments just waiting to taste flesh. Doubt filled my mind. I wasn’t going to make it. Apprehension became energy, a surge of strength rising with my nerves.
Somehow, I had just enough speed for my feeble leap to get just above the window. I spread my wings for just a moment, keeping myself as on-target as I could.
And… tuck!
I bowed my head and closed my eyes as I barreled through. Something brushed against my back.
However, I was clear and for just a moment, I didn’t care. But just a moment. As I spread my wings again, my back felt like I’d just shoved it into an oven. I wavered, tears clouding my eyes and I struggled to keep myself from plummeting.
I needed help and fast. A single image filled my mind, overriding every other thought: the Seapony.
Flapping with all my might, I pushed onward, even as every motion jarred my body to new heights of pain.
The beating of a second set of wings reached my ears. My eyes followed. It wasn’t the pegasus from before. It was someone fresh and he was closing in fast.
No! It can’t end here!
I pushed harder, somehow finding just a little more strength. Yet still it was not enough.
The pain cut right through me as I whirled and I dropped a couple feet. My opponent tried to correct course, but the angle was all off. We collided, a tangle of flailing hooves in the air.
Desperately, I slashed at the blurry silhouette that was my opponent. I thought I felt something spray onto me. More stickiness. I couldn’t even tell if it was mine anymore.
I had to dislodge, get away. The ground would be coming soon. But as I kicked off, it was too late. I think I lost consciousness.
Then we were rolling and skidding. At some point, I ended up on top of him.
I think there was a wall. He hit first. I blacked out again. Then I was in the dirt somewhere. I couldn’t see. But I had to get up. I had to get to the Seapony. My legs just wouldn’t work.
Once. Twice. Thrice. Each time, my muscles giving out sooner than the last.
I groaned. There were many voices. Many hoofsteps. Friend or foe, I couldn’t tell. I had to get away, just in case. If only my body would cooperate.
“...usky... … … stay still!”
Night Flurry?
I’d made it. I couldn’t believe it. I forced my eyes open. There was a face and it was vaguely blue. I was safe, at last.
“Too many...” I mumbled. Wasted words.
Night Flurry was moving his lips, clearly talking, but nothing was coming out. I tried to shift my ears, but they wouldn’t listen.
Something was lifting me.
“...be fine ...y, ... get you … ... clinic...” Night Flurry suddenly become audible again.
The clinic. Even in my condition, I knew it was bad. I had to tell him.
“What? Clinic? No... they'll... they'll find...”
My voice was gone. I didn’t have anything left. Not even enough to feel pain.
I thought I saw blots of light, racing above me. Then Night Flurry again. More silent words. I was moving again. There was a blinding flash.
Time is already a strange, mercurial thing. And in that moment, when I stood on the border between two worlds, it had lost any last semblance of definition. I faded in and out of existence for what felt like months, a measure something in my body insisted, with absolute conviction, was so very wrong. Vague murmurs drifted beside me. I tried to swivel my ears toward them, but every inch was like trudging through a lake of mud. There were no words—just voices. Night Flurry, then Twilight Sparkle. Back to Night Flurry. Twilight again.
My eyes refused to open. Someone had glued them shut.
The rest of my body didn’t fare much better. Even with every muscle combining in one colossal effort, the best I could manage was twitching my legs.
Exhaustion overtook me and I slipped away.
Time had no place where I went. For all I knew, it could have been years since I’d last been awake. But at least this time, my eyes worked, for certain definitions of ‘work’, anyway.
A purple blob, with a mass of blue and magenta near its top, loomed over me. I blinked a few times and it started to actually look like Twilight. She was staring off to the side, the soft glow of a candle playing across her face. Between the furrowed brow and rustling pages, it wasn’t too hard to guess that she was, unsurprisingly, reading a book of some kind. I briefly wondered if the title was What to Do if Some Thugs Leave Your Friend Half-Dead in the Middle of the Street. It wouldn’t be the first time she pulled out an overly specific guide, anyway.
The rest of the room was dark, with vague patches of brown marking the location of the walls—and their inset shelves. Judging by the proximity, we were probably in one of the small back rooms of the library.
My whole body was both raw and numb at the same time. Like I hurt in so many places that my body just stopped feeling. Everything about it was just wrong.
I opened my mouth. While I could hardly feel it, there was so much resistance in the muscles that there must not have been a single drop of saliva in there. My breath escaped in alien, uneven stutters.
“Oh! Dusky!” Twilight furrowed her brow. “You’re not supposed to be awake.”
I stared blankly, trying to raise my own eyebrow. While it did make sense that I should be getting bedrest, the way she worded it threw me off. Whether I succeeded or not, she got the idea.
“You’re wondering why, aren’t you?”
Nodding was not happening; my neck felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Thankfully, the question was rhetorical. She smiled weakly.
“Healing spells make their recipient exhausted. This is because it accelerates the natural process, which comes with an extra energy cost. If the magic was working properly, then you’d still be out for the next couple days.”
Twilight tapped her book as she let out a nervous laugh. “I guess it’s a good thing Magical Aid: A Comprehensive Guide wasn’t checked out. Since, y’know, I’m not a doctor or anything.”
By this point, I’d given up on making my mouth work. I wanted to smirk, but it was just too lazy.
A glass pitcher, about half-full with water, levitated over Twilight’s shoulder. Its lip settled against mine, the delicious liquid measuredly trickling across my tongue. With each drop, I felt like a sponge, dried and immobile, slowly reassuming my real shape.
Suddenly, the pitcher was empty. It was like I’d totally lost myself for a few seconds there. After a brief bout with panic, I realized that that must be what Twilight was talking about when it came to her healing spell. It was just very disconcerting to think that I’d blanked out so hard while my body continued doing its own thing.
“Why didn’t you want to go to the clinic? They could give you much better treatment there.”
My eyes flitted to the side. I didn’t know where I could even begin without having to tell her everything.
“It’s okay. Everypony has their secrets. Celestia knows I’ve got more than enough and you still trust me. So, whatever it is, don’t worry. I trust you.”
I think I actually managed to smile that time.
There were still details I wondered about. About the blizzard. About when Twilight had not been herself. And some I did know that lingered in the back of my head. But we were of like mind, so I knew her reasons were sound.
“Oh! Night Flurry told me to give you a message.” She paused, staring up at her forelock for a few moments before continuing. “Sorry. I thought for sure he’d get back before I had to tell you this. He’s meeting with a Captain Noble Light. Something about finding a safehouse for you. So whatever it is you’re scared of, try not to worry about it for now. You’ve got ponies watching your back.”
Noble Light’s involvement brought me mixed feelings. My assessment from the other day was still firmly cemented in my mind. I wanted to trust him. But even in my haze, I realized that, while the Cartel might have stolen the onsite logs, someone still had to have leaked the information that linked the badge to me, leading them here.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t Twilight’s fault that everything was such a mess, so I did my best to look thankful. The strain sent me into a light coughing fit. At least I could feel my throat again.
Twilight gave me a sympathetic look. “I wish you’d stop resisting the spell. It would make this all so much smoother. But I guess it’s not like you can tell your body to stop doing the things it does. Not that it wouldn’t be nice. I mean, if we could just up and do that, then maybe I wouldn’t have so many ponies coming in asking about contraception spells.”
I let out a weak, pathetic giggle, the kind that would make Pinkie Pie sad.
“Sounds like you could use more water. I’ll be right back.”
I listened to the tapping of her hooves as she left the room. As the steps began to fade down the hall, so did my consciousness. That was the last I would see of the library for some time.
---
The darkness was welcome, all pain and rawness lost within its depths. And yet, it felt so very wrong. In that void, where I was half-aware, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was like being on a stage where, not only was the backdrop gone, but so was the stage itself.
I laid on the ground and listened, trying to get a feel for this lonely, empty world. But it didn’t feel like anything; I might as well have been floating. But there was something fundamentally wrong about that too. Not a single sound reached my ears—not even the subtle whisper of the wind.
The silence was deafening. With each moment, the numbness became less and less comforting. My eyes ventured off into the darkness, but they too became lost.
Instinctively, I curled up. I had to rest. I couldn’t remember why, just that I did. Besides, it’s not like there was anything to do, anyway.
The not-world eventually faded away. Or at least, I thought it did. Perhaps it was just myself fading from the not-world. It’s a bit difficult to judge when my own body was my only reference point.
Time seemed to fade away, as well. I think I was sleeping. Mostly, anyway; some speck always felt oddly aware.
I thought I heard Night Flurry’s voice, the sound washing in and out, like waves on a beach. “...spring... brought… … memories, Dusky...”
Spring memories? Why spring? Eyebrow raised, I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
I was in the bar again.
Not that they’d even noticed. Given Merriweather’s drunken, off-target attempts to hug Starshadow, and the latter’s corresponding annoyance, it was hardly surprising.
Meanwhile, Terra and Mahogany’s eyes were locked. Each had a glass to their lips, the liquid steadily draining. Mahogany’s was tilted just a little higher.
Typical.
Night Flurry turned and mumbled something.
“What?” I cocked my head.
He mumbled again.
A frown formed on my lips and I shook my head. “Speak up.”
We were in the back room. He was sitting across from me.
“Guess you didn't hear, did you?”
“No. No, I didn’t,” I replied.
Strangely, Night Flurry didn’t seem to react. I mean, I continued talking, but it felt like he was looking at me without looking at me.
“M-my real name...” He continued to stare, lost in himself.
I tensed, my mind suddenly active enough to nag. Fake names don’t just hide another name. They hide another person. Would he confess to being a Cartel spy? Or perhaps one of Prideful Policy’s?
“I was Night Light,” he finally said, chuckling afterward. “It sounds funny saying it now. Mom told me… a night light was a little magical light you keep in your bedroom to keep away all the monsters.”
The name wasn’t surprising; it just fit so well and, given his father’s name, I probably could have guessed. What was surprising, though, was how much he was opening up. I couldn’t remember when or why this level of confiding had come to be, but I was too interested to care. With a nod, I continued to watch him.
“I told her that’s silly. A real hero isn’t afraid of monsters.” He gave me a sheepish look. “I… I was ashamed of my name. When I moved out to Ponyville, I changed it, to match my cutie mark.”
Again with the heroes. While it’s the type of the thing foals tend to latch onto—Celestia knows I did—something about it felt even more ingrained than usual with Night Flurry. It was no wonder his sense of reality had been so skewed.
Night Flurry stared off into space. “I… thought ponies like Merri and Star and… like you… you wouldn’t have any need for something as silly as a night light. Y-you weren’t afraid of anything. But… there are monsters in the world… who make even the bravest ponies tremble...”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m no hero. Nor even a fearless mare. I do what I can to protect those I who are close to me.”
“I’m Night Flurry now. I’ve grown to like the name, but… for however long you need, I… I can be Night Light for you.”
I smirked. It was cheesy, but somehow fitting. I decided I’d let him have his moment.
---
“...starting to think of trains as bad omens…” Night Flurry’s voice drifted in again.
The steady click-clack of train wheels filled my ears, each bump helping me shake off a bit of grogginess. Eventually, I got my eyes open, but they refused to go beyond a squint.
We were on the Friendship Express again. As before, Night Flurry rested in the seat across the aisle.
Why? is what I wanted to ask. What actually came out was, “Mmmph.”
Thankfully, Night Flurry seemed ready to explain, anyway. “The trip to Fetlock... I suppose it was a lot of fun, I... I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But still... that night and the attack… And now, this train ride... I can’t help but tie it to what happened to you.”
“Mmmmrph.” My voice failed me again.
Night Flurry sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever like trains. You were right to want to fly to Fetlock.”
“I’ve never been to a beach before. I-I don’t even know what I’m going to do... I imagine you’ve been to the beach dozens of times.” He slumped, staring down at his forehooves. “I g-guess it’s not really a vacation. Merri and Star, they’re pretty serious and M-Mahogany, I don’t know what to say.”
I reached out my own foreleg, which felt like the weight of the entire train was pulling it down. It also didn’t help that my eyes still didn’t want me to see what I was doing. Somehow, I managed to get my quivering hoof atop his. I’d wanted to pat him on the shoulder, but that definitely wasn’t happening, so I supposed I’d have to settle.
“Whatever’s ahead… I really don’t think I have the courage. B-but you all do. And somehow, that gives me enough to go on…” Night Flurry looked up and smiled.
My eyes were growing heavy again, but I did my best to smile back. As the darkness returned, I neither knew, nor cared, whether I’d succeeded.
Up until now, I’d thought I’d lost all sense of time. I was wrong. My mind had become a black hole, sucking in my senses. Before, bringing them to bear had been ‘merely’ difficult. Now, I wasn’t even allowed to try. Despite that, by some miracle, I still had the click clack of the train wheels. But something about it wasn’t right; it was too same-y, like I was still in the library, listening to a broken record of a train.
The loneliness was closing in, holding me fast against myself. It was almost maddening.
Then Night Flurry’s voice cut through it all. He was distant, the sound of a whisper, but without the inflection. I could barely understand one word at a time. But with him came a reassuring warmth. He could have just been a dream, an illusion. It didn’t matter.
“... think … … like … I … clinic... … ?”
I got the gist of it. I wanted to nod, but, of course, I couldn’t.
He continued to speak. Nothing else stuck out, or fell together quite so nicely. It still didn’t matter.
Terra spoke next, her words just as lost as Night Flurry’s. Yet, they carried a similar warmth with them, wrapping around me like a blanket.
Their voices alternated, some topic bouncing between them for many, uncountable iterations—enough that I feared that they too had become a part of the repeating record.
However, the next time it should have been Night Flurry’s turn, Terra spoke again, this time a little louder. And again after that.
There was still generally no form to her words, but every now and then, she’d become clearer. I caught some shop jargon here and there. Each word made me relax a bit more. I still had no sense of time, but at some point, I no longer felt lost. It was almost like things were normal again—just Terra and I having a pleasant, mundane conversation.
---
The sound of wheels on the tracks had stopped and I didn’t remember when. It had reached its destination, whether that was a real place or the end of its existence in my dream.
I thought I heard Night Flurry shout my name, but he was so distant that I wasn’t even sure it was a shout.
There were more murmurs. Always with the murmurs. They continued for several minutes, growing louder, but not clearer.
I felt myself being lifted up, the freaky touch of unicorn magic sliding across my coat as it levitated me through the air. Not that I have anything against unicorn magic, but flight by magic other than that of a pegasus has always felt completely wrong.
The landing was about as gentle as it could be. My legs, then the rest of my body, pressed up against a surface that was perfectly level and spacious, but decidedly not cushy. It had the approximate feel of wooden planks, but I couldn’t be sure. A stiff, plastic-y tarp of a blanket brushed across my back and over my head. All sound became even more muffled, with, much to my annoyance, all conversation blending together into a long string of incomprehensiveness.
Aside from my inhibited hearing, I couldn’t say I was particularly uncomfortable. After all, I’d spent more than a few afternoons lazing in the back of my dad’s wagon. In fact, as the floor beneath me lurched forward, the sensation was almost nostalgic. The steady crunch of wheels grinding over dirt road touched my ears, and I couldn’t help but smile.
We couldn’t have gone more than a few blocks, but the change was marked. The cart stopped bouncing, its wheels gripping something smoother and sturdier. Gone too, was the bustle of the station, even if it had been an incoherent mishmash. Other than the muted sound of the wheels, everything was silent—eerily so.
As I listened in vain, the endless quiet lulled me into an uneasy haze, then sleep. Inexplicably, the darkness became darker.
---
“How is... this place… I-it’s so… big.” Terra’s disbelief was almost tangible, like the words themselves were reaching out to touch the massive room.
The floor was made entirely of polished marble, with trails of light sliding across the floor and out the half-drawn curtains. Even with the plush, red curtains in the way, the visible parts of the windows were easily four times taller than me and about twice as wide. Outside was nothing but blue, with a tiny of line of a horizon where sky met ocean.
On our right was a full bar that boasted a long row of crystal glasses, the kind of glass my dad sometimes sold individually for several hundred bits. The counter was some kind of sturdy, expensive wood that I couldn’t quite identify. The stools had cushions so thick that, had they proper backings and foreleg rests, they could have been thrones.
A thick, woven rug sat in the centre of the room, just beckoning everyone to flop down. I almost might have if the colours hadn’t distracted me. Whatever they were trying to form, I wasn’t getting it. Figures that a fancy rug would incorporate some kind of abstract art.
As if the rug and stools weren’t enough, the cushions on our left had to outdo both of them put together. They were huge, easily twice my mass and just looking at them, I knew they’d form to the exact shape of my body the second I sat down.
And that was just the main room. Beyond both the bar and the cushion sanctuary, additional corridors ran off around the bend, no doubt leading into a labyrinth of excess.
I wasn’t sure when we entered or even how we planned to afford it, but we were unmistakably in a penthouse suite.
Shaking my own awe off, I turned to Terra. Perhaps she knew why we were even here. However, if she did, it would have to wait. She was frozen in place; not an inch of her moved, not even her eyes. Given that her coat was also glistening about as much as the marble floor, I was almost concerned she was going to end up in the clinic for a heart attack or dehydration, if not both.
“Uh, Terra, you okay there?” I asked.
Shallow breaths escaped her lips as she let her rump fall to the floor, but otherwise, she didn’t respond.
“Terra?”
She opened her mouth, but it didn’t close. Not a single sound came out.
Reaching out a forehoof, I prodded her in the shoulder. Once. Then again. Still nothing.
“Um… Terra?” Night Flurry asked from in front of us. But that couldn’t be right. My head snapped forward and sure enough, he was there. I didn’t know how I'd missed him.
Terra jumped, almost tripping over herself as she got back on all four hooves. “Huh?”
“H-help with D-Dusky?” he asked.
“Help? With what?” I tilted my head. “If anything, it’s Terra who could use some help.”
“Huh? Oh! Yeah, I can help,” Terra said, like I wasn’t even there.
“Um, hello?” I prodded her again. She didn’t so much as flinch.
“Pfff, yeah. ‘S’like you ain’t ever seen a full cooler before.” Mahogany laughed from behind us. I spun around. The door was still closed.
How? Am I going deaf? I wondered, poking at my own ear.
“That’s not what I was looking at and you know it!” Terra grumbled. “Not like you’ve ever seen one either.”
“That’s besides the point.” Mahogany scrunched his muzzle as he waved a forehoof.
Terra was lightning fast, responding with an intense glare. “No, it’s the whole point.”
Night Flurry trotted over to the cushions. “Over h-here.”
“Er, right. This is more important. Sorry, Flurry.” Terra’s anger was gone, replaced in its entirety by concern.
“Hey!” I shouted. No dice.
Why aren’t they talking to me? Am I dead? A ghost?
Nothing made sense. It was all wrong. The world ended.
---
Once, as a filly who was high on the discovery of her budding weather control skills, I’d gathered as many of the smallest clouds I could find. It was a lot of work, but once I’d shoved them together into some sort of deformed super cloud, I proceeded to flop on top, letting the endless fluff embrace me. It was perhaps a bit too comfortable, as before I knew it, I’d whiled away the entire afternoon.
As Night Flurry’s voice pulled me back to semi-consciousness, or whatever state-of-mind it was, that’s how I felt. Whatever I was lying on, it was quality.
“I guess we made it. Pretend vacation, right?” He let out a laugh, the sort of half-forced chuckle that wanted so much to be genuine, but only served to highlight how uncertain it was.
Vacation? I wanted to ask him so many things, but my body was heavy and useless again. My lips got maybe an inch open, just enough for a small sigh. Frustration welled up inside me, though only briefly—it was exhausting, even though I was lying half-conscious in a boneless heap. Letting it go was a necessity.
As I turned my attention back to not-anger, I heard a deep, uneven sniff, the kind that comes with holding back tears. When Night Flurry finally spoke, his voice was just as uneven.
“Y-you... you nearly died, Dusky. A-and I know... I know you're going to be okay, but..."
Suddenly, he was crying. Not just sobbing, but a full-on meltdown. Still, he kept going, somehow managing to get some words in here and there. “I-I don't want to lose any of my friends… Dusky... I...”
I didn’t know how bad off I was, but I wanted to reach out, to hug him, or even just touch his shoulder again. Anything to reassure him. Twilight is good at what she does, after all. Of course, my body was about as useful as ever. My forelegs flopped out in front of me and took root. As I struggled against their weight, I faded away.
---
To say I felt sluggish was an understatement. Everything was silent—eerily so—as I pushed my bleary eyes open. The scent of seawater lingered in the air.
Even with my blurred vision, the room looked nothing like mine.
My eyes snapped open and everything came into focus.The room was rectangular, its soft blue walls adorned with a variety of pictures and seashell decorations. There was an untouched bed to my left and a large window, curtains drawn to a crack, to my right.
My best guess was a hotel room. Not a suite, but nothing short of a standard double at a four-star establishment.
I didn’t know the why or the how, but my first instinct was to secure the room. Just because it was nice, didn’t mean there couldn’t be danger or that I wasn’t a prisoner.
The majority of the tension left my body as I noticed Night to my right. He was facing the window, staring at the slit of visible sky.
“I imagine you’ve been to tons of beaches. This is probably nothing new to you.” He spoke in a contemplative way, as though he didn’t expect me to respond.
Bits and fragments of dreams flashed through my mind. Night’s voice. Strange places. I couldn’t be sure if it was real. I couldn’t be sure this was real.
“I... I can’t believe how much I’ve seen, just recently. Places I’d have never dreamed of going to just a few months ago. It’s... it’s fun. Even when the circumstances aren't the best. It’s just taking the time to enjoy the little joys of someplace new and... and it's the ponies who go with you that make the trip really special.” He turned to me, a sort of sad smile on his lips—and stopped dead. His eyes brightened considerably as the realization took root. “Um… D-Dusky?!”
I smiled clumsily, my body a tad sluggish again, now that the adrenaline was wearing off. “Good morning, Night.”
“Morning!” He tensed, jaw working as though he had a billion things to say, but no idea what to say first. Then he moved with remarkable speed, wrapping me in a tight hug that said it all.
As I hugged back, the warmth of his coat against mine, his scent drifting up to my nostrils, I just knew it was real. I nuzzled into his forelock. I wasn’t alone anymore.
“Oh, I see how it is. You were just waiting until I was in the bathroom, weren’t you~?” Merriweather’s voice pulled my eyes to the left, where she leaned against the wall, a giant grin plastered on her face.
“Wh-what?” Night looked down, eyes going wide, as though he just realized he was hugging me. His cheeks tried to imitate Merriweather’s coat as he pulled away and stared off to the side. “N-no, it was just… w-we were, um…”
I rolled my eyes at Merriweather. While my throat felt more parched with each second, I still managed to push the words out. “Really? That’s the first thing you say?”
“Aw, geez, c’mon, it was just a joke. In case you didn’t know, things have been kind of tense lately.” She trotted to the end of the bed and looked me up and down. “Wow, you’re looking pretty good for what you’ve been through. That Twilight’s a real wizard. Maybe even better than Sis’~.”
“Well, magic is kind of her thing. Plus she’s an Element of Harmony and Princess Celestia’s personal protégé.”
“Oh! That’s why her name sounded so familiar.”
I blinked. “You mean you didn’t know?”
“Nah. Sometimes I just forget things because Sis’s speeches are too long-winded, that’s all.”
“Right. All that boring Equestrian history.” A smirk crept up my lips as I sighed.
“Exactly~.” She nodded knowingly, although she paused after her third. “Er, no offense.”
I stuck my tongue out. “I’ll let it slide for now.”
The bigger concern was just how accurate Merriweather’s assessment of my health was. With all the aches catching up to me, I certainly didn’t feel in good shape. I shoved the covers aside so I could get a better look at my body. When shadows continued to get in the way, I switched on the bedside lamp.
To Merriweather’s credit, I did look better than I felt. Not that that was a high bar or anything, but it was a pretty marked difference. Sure, there were a few bald spots and scars where I’d obviously taken some bad hits, but given a week, my coat would grow back.
“I, um, th-think you l-look good… um, t-too.” Night smiled sheepishly. It was strangely reassuring.
“Thanks.” With some effort, I mustered my own smile. “So where are we anyway?”
“Myrtail Beach. Nice, huh?” Merriweather flourished and grinned like a salespony.
The name clicked almost instantly. While it wasn’t the most famous resort in the country, it was still a staple of any respectable travel centre’s brochures. Its secluded location was as much of an attraction as the beach itself. Even by train, the trip would have taken at least a day.
“Why?” I furrowed my brow.
“B-because you were... h-hurt and we needed s-someplace safe.” Night looked like he was about to tear up. I placed a hoof on his shoulder.
“Right and I'm glad you thought of that, but… well, a resort doesn’t strike me as a first choice for lying low.”
“U-um, well… th-that’s…” Night slumped.
“It was his dad’s plan,” Merriweather chimed in. “Something about choosing somewhere unofficial so the info won’t leak out through the Guard.”
Apprehension washed over me, starting with the mention of Noble Light, but completely passing by the end of Merriweather’s sentence. There was still a lingering wariness, lying heavy in my gut, but it was weak enough that I could laugh it off—at least for now. This was tempered as my mind pondered his logic.
“That doesn’t make the vacation destination any less odd, but I suppose that may be why he went with it in the first place.”
Night nodded, although it lacked confidence, like he was agreeing with my theory rather than confirming it. And just like that, I found myself wondering, once again, if Noble Light was really our ally.
But I was getting ahead of myself. If I wanted to be anything more than useless, there were pressing basic questions that needed answering.
“How long was I out? A week?” I knew my guess was probably high, but I always found it easier to plan for the worst and let the rest be windfall.
“Um, two days? Maybe three?” Night looked at Merriweather.
She shrugged. “Something like that.”
“That’s not very long. Everyone must have been on the ball.” I made a mental note to thank Twilight when we got back. Her magic had mitigated more of my disadvantage than I could have dreamed.
“Sure were! You should’ve seen Night, being all organized and leaderly.” Merriweather grinned.
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow, under which Night shrunk. “Well, thank you, Night Light.”
“I-I just wanted you to be s-safe.” He blushed. A moment later, my statement caught up to him. “W-wait, you, um… h-heard me talking?”
“Sometimes. I don’t know how much of it was a dream or not, but that particular statement stuck with me.”
Night didn’t say a word. He’d passed well beyond embarrassment, into just grinning ear-to-ear. I doubt he even realized he was doing it.
“So who else is here?” I glanced at Merriweather. Starshadow was a given, but I could only hope to Celestia that Terra, Mahogany and Blizzard hadn’t been dragged into this fresh mess.
“Well, there’s Sis’ and Terra and Mahogany.”
“They aren’t hurt are they? And what about Blizzard?”
“Eh? No, whoever attacked you backed off before we found you.” Merriweather pondered. “As for Blizzard, I don’t think she was there.”
I let out a sigh. Well, one out of three is still something, right? Plus no one else got hurt… for now.
Had I not been sitting, my mind’s own jab might have staggered me. The advantages were minor before the scope of what I’d have to plan. It was big. Maybe too big for me to handle. I was just one pony, after all, and one who just almost died at that. How was I to keep three others, if not five, safe?
All this before I’d even asked the hardest question. I took a deep breath.
“Okay. I know this may be hard, but can you gather everyone? I need to know everything that’s happened while I was out.”
“E-everything?” Night’s eyes grew wide.
“I know I’m asking a lot, but if we want to get through this, I need to sit down and piece this together.”
Merriweather nodded slowly, a strange clairvoyance in her eyes. “Okay, then. Go on, Night.”
He blinked. “M-Merri?”
“Go get everyone.”
“Wh-what?” He looked at me, then down at the floor before staring up at Merriweather. “What about you?”
“I’m standing guard, silly. Now, go on. It’s rude to keep a mare waiting and you’ve got two of us sitting here~.” She grinned broadly as Night squirmed.
“U-um, right,” he squeaked. “I’ll b-be back.”
“Thanks, Night,” I said, hoping to mitigate a bit of the teasing. Turns out, a fourth ‘voice’ had other plans.
Grrrrrrrrwnnnnnndurgle! went my stomach, every ache flaring up again as the grumble rippled through my body. I was now painfully aware of the one hunger I’d forgotten in my pursuit of the other. Perhaps it was just the fatigue, but I could have sworn that the sound echoed a couple times.
Night and Merriweather stared.
“Um, think you could get something for me while you’re out?”
---
I never thought I’d order room service. It just never seemed worth the cost. However, despite the assurance of safety, I was loathe to have anyone wander too far in this strange environment, nevermind discuss private matters in a public eatery. With everyone’s safety on the line, a few extra bits didn’t seem so bad anymore.
And that’s how we ended up in a circle in a dark hotel room, surrounding a meager buffet. To be fair, it was still rather tasty wild grass and oats. The portions just left a bit to be desired.
Once I got a bit of food and about half the ice bucket in my stomach, I felt like a new mare. The aches were forgotten and a weight I didn’t even know had been hanging over my mind was lifted. Granted, I wasn’t about to run laps around the hotel, but at least now we could have our conversation without interruption—or at least that specific interruption.
Of course, the conversation had to start first. Not that I could blame the others for avoiding the subject. It definitely wasn’t easier to make the request a second time. In fact, if anything, it was even harder.
Night looked like he kept wanting to say something, but was too afraid. Mahogany smelled of whiskey and wouldn’t even look me in the eye. I couldn’t tell if the room or the food made Terra more uncomfortable. Merriweather was about as serious as I’d ever seen her. And Starshadow was… Starshadow, a fact that made me wonder if such a thing could ever be said about me. Of which I wasn’t even sure if I could call it good or bad.
“Very well,” Starshadow finally said. “I shall tell you what I know on one condition.”
I blinked. “A condition? Why? This is serious.”
“I know. That is why you have to tell us your side too.”
“All right. But it’s not pretty.” I sighed—not because I wanted to withhold the information, but because I was wary of how it would make Terra, Mahogany and Night feel. “Are you really sure you want to know?”
Terra stared straight at me, her eyes emanating fear, a fear of both everything and nothing. “Do you think our imagination would be much better?”
“No, you’re right.” I gave her my best apologetic look. “It all started with a member of the Guard named Light Horn”
Mahogany snorted.
“It’s not your fault, Mahogany,” I said. He still didn’t meet my eyes. “I didn’t really pick up on him, either. He had us both fooled.”
Starshadow cleared her throat. “If I may interject, neither of you can reasonably be blamed. The enchantment was tailored to fool even experienced unicorns.”
“Enchantment?” I froze, the whole sequence of events rushing past at once. That must have been the magic that had thrown me off-kilter. But the thought of it being some sort of influence that didn’t even require effort on his part, that sent chills down my spine.
“Indeed. But I shall speak on that more when it is my turn.”
And with that, everything was back on me. I detailed Light Horn’s Equestrian National Investigation ruse, how my attempt to find a private place had led to me being tailed by thugs and how I felt like the magic had altered my perception of him. While Mahogany slipped in a curse here and there, it was Night who squirmed and buckled like he was going to be sick.
As the warehouse approached, I started to scale things back, leaving out as many gory details as I could. But as greater and greater horror progressed across Terra’s, Mahogany’s and Night’s faces, it became clear that the gesture was in vain. They had no need for any description of the gore.
To be honest, my own recounting left me unsettled and not entirely because I’d almost died. No, it was because of those I’d had to snuff out. I’ve been taught never to hold back in a fight, and in the heat of battle, I’ve never hesitated to defend myself by any means necessary. However, once my blood cools, it’s plain to see what I’ve done. Cartel or no, they were still living, sentient beings. And it always hurt, even more so when I didn’t know anything else about them. It was, strangely, a feeling I’d grown to cling to—not because I wanted to obsess over my regrets, but because it’s what kept me from excess, from becoming a murderer.
The Ostfriesen sisters’ expressions didn’t change, with Merriweather merely glancing at Starshadow. At that moment, they almost looked like twins. I wasn’t sure if their impassiveness came from professionalism or desensitisation, but I really hoped it wasn’t the latter.
Terra stood and trotted over to me. She stared at me. It was that kind of far-off look where she was seeing something else.
“Um, Terra?” I peered back at her.
“Dusky.” She reached forward and wrapped me in a tight hug. She didn’t let go.
“Terra?”
“Dusky. You’re alive. You’re alive.” She repeated it a few more times.
I leaned in, giving her a hug of my own, albeit much lighter than hers. “I’m sorry.”
“If this is too uncomfortable,” Starshadow said. “Merriweather and I can take it from here while the others wait in another room.
“N-no. I’ll d-do it,” Night insisted.
“Are you certain?” Starshadow eyed him up and down.
“We have to f-face this if we w-want to help.” His voice wavered, but didn’t completely falter.
“Mahogany? Terrabona?” she asked.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Mahogany grumbled, looking away.
Terra stepped back and nodded, slowly and with a resigned deliberation.
“Very well. Night Flurry?” Starshadow motioned toward him.
“Y-you crashed into the b-bar, D-Dusky. Y-you were a b-bloody mess.” Night shivered. “The guard was d-dead, b-but you were still there, b-barely clinging to life. I… I wouldn’t accept that you might d-die too. W-when y-you said not to go the clinic, we c-could only think of T-Twilight and how she was s-so strong. Sh-she had to be able to h-help y-you.”
I nodded. “And did you notice anyone watching? Or if anyone followed you there?”
“No,” Merriweather chimed in. “I was watching to make sure everyone was safe and there was no one. Doesn’t surprise me, since you ended up so far away from where the fight started.”
“No one noticed me moving our ‘friend,’ the ‘Guard,’ when I moved him, either,” Starshadow added. “During that time, I discovered the enchantment on his helmet. It alters behaviour, likely by making people like him more than they should.”
She gave me a meaningful look. My reply was a solemn nod.
“R-right,” Night swallowed hard. “S-so Twilight was able to heal you, b-but she said you would need t-time. Meanwhile, I… I c-called in my d-dad. H-he said he was going to s-send us here until he could s-straighten things out. I-it’s supposed to be wh-where spies can’t f-find us.”
I nodded again. “And how did we get here?”
“B-by train. We came s-straight from Ponyville. A-and as soon as w-we arrived, we brought y-you up here. M-Merriweather and S-Starshadow s-said they would stand g-guard.”
That certainly explained the train, but not the bar. I began to wonder if the latter had been merely a dream, but then, that was when I learned about Night Light, so that didn’t make sense. Before I could go any deeper, my mind poked me, reminding me that I could continue being silly and speculating, or I could actually ask for the truth.
I raised an eyebrow. “So we weren’t in the bar at any point?”
“N-no, um, w-why?” Night asked.
“Mmmm. Perhaps I was dreaming, but, that was when I heard you say your real name.”
“O-oh, um… well, w-we were just in the library.”
“See? This is why I need you to recount the events,” I said, to which just about everyone nodded. “Anyway, and no one was following you at any point?”
“Nope! Sis’ and I had it all covered!” Merriweather flourished.
I was about to push for more details when Starshadow quickly clarified, “Such surveillance would be especially obvious here.”
“And that brings us to the present?”
“U-um, sort of.”
---
The rest of the explanation outlined the rest of everyone’s stay thus far—something that had become a boring, yet also strange, routine. At least, I thought the very nature of the situation made the whole thing odd, but the Cartel had clearly done nothing to approach, if they were present at all. Starshadow and Merriweather had been on rotating guard duty, while everyone else did their own thing. Night’s thing just so happened to have been keeping me company.
Frustratingly, Noble Light hadn’t given any kind of estimate for when he would be finished. Not that I could really blame him. The task ahead of him would probably unravel quickly if he could find the right thread. But that required him to find the right thread.
Doubly frustratingly, my current condition wasn’t good enough for me to even think about resuming exercises or scouting out the rest of the resort. As such, it was determined that everyone should just part ways. Night and Mahogany had their own room, while Terra and I were bunking. And, of course, while Merriweather and Starshadow had their own room, one of them had to hang out in mine and Terra’s.
Because the prospect of sleeping a ton, stuffing my face, then sleeping even more, made me feel like a glutton, I found myself looking for anything that could provide a few minutes’ distraction. And so, as I felt myself slumping and yawning, I poked through the sizable cache of bags that Twilight had sent along.
There was a generous helping of medical supplies in one, and what appeared to be home-made emergency rations in the other. A third had random grooming supplies.
The fourth and last, however, was my flight satchel, which is what I had really been concerned about. The colours were noticeably dulled. Even though fading was inevitable through normal use, it was the distinct acceleration that bothered me.
As I pulled the flap open and found my scarf inside, in a similar condition, I began to wonder if it was a problem with my eyes. I pulled it out with the intent of staring at it in the mirror. As it unfurled, a couple index cards fluttered out and onto the ground.
The first read, “Sorry about the fading.” From there, it and the following card launched into a detailed explanation of a spell and why it had dulled the colour so much. The theory and terminology were completely beyond me, but from what little I could understand, when the stains are especially deep, the physical damage is worse and that many attempts may be needed. The very end was neatly signed by Twilight.
Night had clearly not being exaggerating even an inch when he’d called me a “bloody mess”. I was beginning to have doubts that I could have even cleaned my equipment without Twilight’s help. I made another mental note to thank her.
With a sigh, I turned back to the dreaded bed, pondering what else I could do to avoid it. That was when I noticed that the comforter, as well as the sheets, were missing from Terra’s. I could have sworn they were there only five minutes ago.
“Uh, Terra, What are you doing?” Merriweather’s confusion quickly became amusement. “Do you have some sort of thing for closets~?”
I followed her voice to the jacket closet, where Terra had entrenched herself and her linens. She glared up at Merriweather. “I have to do this.”
“But you could totally sleep like a princess~!” Merriweather waggled her rump as she pointed, as though she was settling into the bare, sizable mattress.
“Exactly!” Terra held her ground, digging in even more. “I can’t let the fancy in. Once it gets in, there’s no getting it out.”
Despite my best efforts, the barest of smirks formed on my lips and I immediately felt bad. Once things were a bit calmer, we’d have to have a chat about this aversion of hers. But for now, it was my turn to trot over and wrap her in a hug.
I didn’t know what was weirder: passing out in the closet pressed up against Terra as Merriweather giggled incessantly; or waking up to Starshadow peering down at me. As she continued her wordless stare, I began to lean toward the latter.
“There is a bed,” she said.
“We know,” I mumbled, mouth still a minute behind my brain. “It’s... complicated.”
“That is not the term Merriweather used, but I shall take your word for it.”
I frowned. “Dare I ask?”
“‘Getting awfully friendly’ is how she put it.”
“Oh. I expected something lewder.”
“She does sometimes have some level of tact.” Starshadow gave me a look that I can only describe as an apologetic smirk.
“Right.” By then, I was finally awake enough to realize that I didn’t feel Terra’s body against mine. A quick glance to my side and, sure enough, she was gone. “Where’s Terra?”
“She had an urgent ‘errand’ to run as soon she woke. Presumably one that involves a bottle.”
“I can’t really blame her. It’s been a rough week.” Still, I couldn’t help but sigh. If only she’d woken me, I would have kept her company. As I pushed myself up to my hooves, it occurred to me that I still could. The hotel couldn’t have too many bars to check.
Starshadow stood back, although her eyes were still fixed on me. The concern on her face told me quite clearly that she wanted to help, but I supposed she wanted to respect my dignity. To be honest, I was a little grateful for it.
Yesterday’s soreness was basically gone, replaced by an awkward stiffness. As I worked to limber up my legs, I glanced at Starshadow. “Do you feel up to a stroll?”
“I should be the one asking you that.”
“It won’t be far, just a quick check to make sure Terra’s okay. I’ll be fine.” Now that I had my blood flowing a bit, I felt like wandering around wouldn’t be a big deal. I wagered I could even run a few laps; I knew better than to push my luck, though.
“Very well.” Starshadow nodded. “So long as we inform Merriweather, I do not have a problem.”
“Thanks.” I flashed her a smile as I trotted back to the main room, where my bags—as well as Twilight’s packages—still lay in semi-disarray. Despite Merriweather’s previous presence, the rest of the room hadn’t changed either. It was almost like hugging Terra had stopped time and I was just picking up where I’d left off.
I just needed to take an assessment of my bits, as well as find my cloak; it wouldn’t do to let everyone see the damage to my coat. I was about halfway done counting when a slow knock echoed through the room.
Turning toward the door, I caught Starshadow’s eye. We exchanged nods, then she crept up to the the door and peered through the peephole.
She gave me another nod, then opened the door. “Hello, Night Flurry.”
“Oh, um… Star? Could, um... you just... s-step outside for a moment?” He asked. I could practically hear him shrinking.
Starshadow didn’t say anything.
I trotted over, deciding it best that I see what was up. “Hi, Night. Everything okay?”
“Nothing important, really… I just needed… c-can we talk? Alone?” He squirmed as he looked up. The first statement was clearly false, but I didn’t think he was intentionally lying.
“Are you feeling up to it?” Starshadow asked, more as an excuse to let me decline than anything.
A smirk spread up my lips as I answered, “I think I can manage.”
“I shall be just outside.” Starshadow bowed before exchanging places with Night. The door eased itself shut.
He trotted up to me and grinned a nervous grin. “Dusky… hi.”
“Hi.” I smiled back. “So, nothing important. No word from your father?”
Night shook his head.
“Then what’s on your mind?”
He inhaled deeply, as though he had to push the words all the way out of his lungs. “Just... I... I've been thinking. About... me... a-and you.”
There was no way I didn’t give him a funny look. It was almost like we were a few weeks in the past again. “And? What did you need to say to me alone?”
“J-just that... well…” Night was breathing so hard, I was certain he was going to start hyperventilating. “We're friends…”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you're all right?”
Nodding vigourously, he worked his jaw, always snapping it shut before any sound could escape. He should have saved the deep breath. “I... just couldn't... I... I need to know the truth.”
“The truth is what I told you.” I eyed him up and down. “There isn’t much more to say, unless you mean something else?”
Night squirmed. “N-no. I mean... about me. I... I need to know... we're friends, right?”
Relaxing a little, I nodded. “Of course.’
“Th-then... th-that's what I need to know... I don't want to… If... if I ever step over a line, if I ever get too... Aggggghh!” He threw his forehooves in the air.
I almost took a step back, but my mind was too busy working. Something was wrong and I was beginning to suspect just what it was.
He looked straight at me. “Dusky... I love you.”
Yep.
And yet, I still found myself surprised. Truth be told, while I’d hoped he wouldn’t, that he’d still taken the prior weeks to heart, I was also okay with it. Perhaps it wasn’t what he or others would normally associate with the word, but it was definitely something genuine. The question, then, was whether it would continue in that same vein, or if old tendencies would resurface. There was only one way to find the answer.
“Oh, Night... don't you think 'love' is a little strong?” I cracked a smile. “I mean, we haven't even had a first date.”
He froze, a grin slowly materializing on his face. "I... w-wait… Does... does that mean we'll have to change that?"
“Maybe. If we're in agreement, I don’t see any harm in trying.”
His face turned bright red. “I... absolutely!”
“Although, that’ll have to wait for another day. I don’t quite trust this place enough for something like this on such short notice.”
“I... guess it’s good to b-be safe, y-you know, even after your um... well... yeah. I... I'll figure something out soon, then, okay?”
I nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
Night turned and started toward the door, but after a few steps, he doubled back, awkwardly wrapping me in a hug. “Um... Have a good afternoon... Dusky.”
I hugged him back. “You too, Night Light.”
---
As Starshadow and I rode the elevator down, it occurred to me why I felt especially nervous about Myrtail. I had no arrangements. No back-up location, no contacts in the city and no line to my outside connections. With no eyes beyond the city limits, it was as much a prison as a haven.
The lobby was a large oval, the ocean side of it crammed with as many windows as possible. The sandscape beyond was dotted with ponies, most lounging on towels or under large, colourful umbrellas. A few of the more restless vacationers hung out in the water.
Pulling my eyes back to the lobby proper, I glanced around. It was mostly empty, with just a bored receptionist at the desk and a single mint green pegasus mare perusing the somewhat gaudy, yet charming, reed furniture.
Even gaudier, though, was the mare’s oversized sun hat. While the crown was a plain white, the wide brim was filled with dozens of bright, abstract suns. Her golden lyre cutie mark flashed in and out of existence as her blonde tail swished back and forth. A pair of sunglasses obscured her eyes, although they were quite clearly pointed at a paper on the table in front of her. An intense frown was set upon her lips, completing the picture of a grumpy tourist.
The whole getup just yelled, “Hey, look at me!” so hard that I wasn’t sure if she was trying to be self-important or draw my attention away from someone else. Given that the lobby was otherwise completely empty, the former seemed a bit more likely. Still, something about her felt vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my hoof on it—and that set me on edge.
Regardless, stopping and staring would do little more than alert her, if she was a spy; or make her angry, if she was legit. So I filed her appearance away in my mind and kept walking.
The oval attached to a wide hall, which branched off several times. Just about all of them were narrower halls with rooms lining each side, before ending at a glass door that led out onto the beach. The only exception was one that led into a small alcove with public washrooms. At the very end of the main hall, it opened up into what looked like a large foyer.
As we reached the mouth of the last side hall before the foyer, I stopped. Even though she was right beside me, Starshadow didn’t miss a beat. She tilted her head.
I motioned toward the end of the side hall. “If we get separated at all.”
“Understood.” She nodded.
The foyer was a pretty standard hotel hub. There was a sizable gift shop with bright floral shirts plastered all over every window. As I turned away, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the tourist’s gaudy hat. My eyes darted back to the window. To be fair, it was the same hat, but it was donned by a clothing dummy, both of which were barely visible behind the wall of shirts.
Cool it, Dusky, I chided myself.
Across from the shop was a tribal wooden arch that served as an entrance to their restaurant. Judging by the tuxedoed stallion at the door, I wagered it was still the thirty-bits-per-plate kind of place these types of hotels usually tote.
It was just beyond the restaurant that I found what I was looking for: the bar. However, Terra was nowhere to be found. Instead, I saw Mahogany, alone at the counter, with nothing but a couple empty glasses keeping him company. It was as I feared: the incident had left its mark on my friends, which was exactly what I’d been trying to protect them from. It was a very strange feeling to think that Night, of all ponies, was dealing with it the best. In some strange twist of irony, perhaps his prior foolishness had left him prepared.
“Would you mind waiting here?” I asked. “I’d like to talk to Mahogany.”
“No.” There was just a tinge of sadness of in Starshadow’s voice. I couldn't really fault her; this was the second of what was likely to be three conversations that she would be left out of. “I shall let you have your heart-to-heart.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, deciding that perhaps when we got back to the room, we could have a chat. It wasn’t like we were going anywhere else anytime soon and I wouldn’t mind hearing more about Ostfriesen.
I trotted over to Mahogany, stopping at the seat beside him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said without looking away from his drink.
“Need some company?”
Mahogany shrugged. “Sure.”
I ordered a cider. Neither of us said a word while we waited for it to arrive. The silence was deafening. As soon as I had my drink, I turned to him.
“I don’t blame you, y’know.” I hoped I didn’t sound like a broken record. “Neither of us could have known. And besides, if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. If I hadn’t been such a naive young mare, you wouldn’t have even been in that situation. So, please, Mahogany, don’t be so hard on yourself.”
He let out a low, almost bitter, chuckle. “‘Sjus’ like you.”
“What?”
“Big Sisser Dusky Down’s gotta put on ‘er motherin’ pants an’ look after everything an’ get ‘er chickens in a row before they hatch.”
I felt a tinge of pride, even if the honourific wasn’t being used entirely positively. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Mmmph. Whaddawe do when y’ain’t ‘round?” He gave the wall over my shoulder a meaningful look.
“I don’t know. I never wanted it to come to this. I guess… deep down, I knew I just had to hope they’d decide it wasn’t worth it.” It was my turn to laugh darkly. “So much for that. But, there’s still hope. Maybe when we’re done here, it’ll all be over.”
“Psh. Maybe.”
Truth be told, I was still skeptical too. Noble Light was too much of a wildcard. Even if he came through, there was no guarantee that everything would be solved. And if he didn’t, well… I’d probably be looking for a new home.
For now, the best I could do was hug Mahogany. He stiffened a moment before slumping down again. He gave me a drunken approximation of one in turn.
---
Oddly enough, Mahogany hadn’t seen Terra. I thought for sure that she’d go for the whiskey, but I supposed the bar probably qualified as too fancy, too. I initially debated whether I should bother checking the other indoor bars, but turns out Mahogany’s was the only one. Outside, however, was a different story. According to the hotel floor plan, there were no less than five drink stands out on the beach.
The beach was quite crowded, which didn’t help the search any, nevermind that the density of people made me extra nervous. There were too many faces to keep track of and thus, no telling who could be watching. At least it would be easy to tell if grumpy sun hat mare was following me—everyone else had better fashion sense.
By the time we’d visited the second stand, it was pretty clear that even these outside bars were just as lavish as any other part of the hotel. With the bars out of the picture, I figured Terra might try to find someplace isolated so she could ignore as much of the hotel as possible. With the crowd stretching out in both directions as far as the eye could see, the only thing we could do was start walking.
After a good five minutes, we eventually came to a rocky, C-shaped sort of hill. The beach leading up to it was practically a driftwood graveyard, with all the extra gunk that entails. To even get anywhere near the inner face, someone would have to had to climb over at least two trunks. I had my doubts that Terra would have bothered, but something in my gut told me to check anyway.
It wasn’t until I was halfway over the first log that I spotted a pair of green hooves sticking out from a crevice in the hill. I glanced over my shoulder at Starshadow, who was busy eying the long stretch of beach and the crowd atop it.
“Starshadow?”
Her eyes snapped to, immediately falling where I’d been looking. Then they turned to me. When I nodded, she spoke softly, “Very well. I shall keep watch.”
“Thanks.”
Either my wounds had really taken a toll on me, or Terra was fitter than I’d given her credit for. I was starting to sweat by the time I’d traversed the debris. I’d have flown, but aside from not wanting to freak Terra out by dropping in on her, any observant members of the crowd would’ve easily spotted me.
“Terra?” I asked, stepping around the rock as widely as I could.
“Oh, Dusky.” She looked up at me, almost like we were meeting again for the first time. “Hello.”
Terra sat on her haunches, her mane unkempt in a bedhead kind of way. Dirt and muck spotted her coat. At least her eyes looked dry enough.
“What are you doing out here?” I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”
She let out a nervous laugh. “Of course. I’m just, um, admiring the scenery.”
“Really, now?”
“Yep!” Terra stared past me, out over the ocean. A sigh escaped her lips.
“Is it about ‘the fancy?’” I knelt down so that we were eye-to-eye.
“No.” Her eyes wandered away. She slumped, looking sheepish all the while. “Yeah. Stupid, isn’t it?”
“I’ll admit that it hasn’t seemed like the most reasonable reaction, but...” I leaned in to give her a hug. “It’s because I don’t understand. What’s wrong? Was it that night?”
Terra shook her head. “I… guess it’s just we never had much to spare when I was growing up. We couldn’t afford anything like this, so it was just always a bad thing.”
I had to wonder why this had taken so long to surface, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. We lived in Ponyville, which wasn’t exactly a ritzy place and my own tastes aligned so closely with Terra’s frugality that I couldn’t even think of a point where it might have come up. Perhaps if she’d made it out to Fetlock, although I was quite grateful that she hadn’t.
“Makes sense. Still, I don’t like to see you like this. Is there anything I can do?”
She gave me a sad smile. “I don’t know. I think it’s something I have to deal with myself.”
I nodded. “Then I’ll be here to support you. Even if we have to hang out in a closet all day.”
Terra laughed. “There are worse things to do with worse ponies.”
“Right. Shall we get out of here?”
She nodded. As we doubled back over the logs, Terra turned to me.
“Have you seen Mahogany?” she asked, huffing as she worked her way over the last of the debris.
“Yeah, he was at the bar.”
“Great. I… I want to try going there. I owe him a drink.”
I nodded. “All right. Go on ahead. I’ll get Starshadow and catch up with you.”
As we parted ways, I scanned the beach. Starshadow was nowhere to be found. I frowned and glanced back at the hill, hoping I would see her looking down at me. But she wasn’t there either.
My gut reaction was that someone had gotten to her, but once I’d pushed the panic aside, it didn’t make much sense. There was no sign of a struggle and it was extremely doubtful that she was somehow silently beaten. Presumably, it was Starshadow who noticed something and had taken care of it. But even that carried its own concerns.
Without any more information, all I could really do was head for the rendezvous point. Once I’d met up with Starshadow and was appraised of the situation, then I could formulate a plan.
As much as I wanted to rush back to the hotel proper, I had to restrain myself. If something was really wrong, then moving so obviously could only make things worse. And so I forced myself to walk, each step rattling my worries around in my head.
After what felt like ages, I passed the gift shop. Just a couple more turns and I’d be there. That was when an unfamiliar voice called out from behind me. “Miss!”
Whirling, I spotted grumpy sun hat mare, headed straight for me. My mind raced. If she was still around, then she wasn’t the problem Starshadow had seen. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be one of many problems. On the other hoof, being a problem in the middle of a busy foyer would invariably attract the attention of security. I wouldn’t call myself safe, but there was nothing remotely overt she could do without giving me an advantage. And yet, my body tensed of its own accord.
“Miss!” she called again.
I steeled myself, forcing my voice to be as calm and level as possible. Perhaps I could gauge her better after a few words. “Yes?”
She trotted up to me and cleared her throat. “Hello. My name is Sergeant Mint Creme, of the Equestrian Guard. I have been led to believe you have some information regarding a certain incident.”
Swatting away the memories of Light Horn, I forced myself to look straight at Mint Creme. If this was another setup, I needed to get ahold of myself. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong pony.”
She gave me an expectant look. “Dusky Down?”
“And if I am?”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“Do you have proof of your identity?” I watched her carefully.
She nodded slowly, with a bit of an odd tilt, as though she was trying to see past me. “I do, but not here. Somewhere more private.”
It was obviously the same ploy, and yet, but by some bizarre twist of logic, it was the fact that I didn’t feel that same immediate affection that made me think twice. But all that really said was that the sun hat wasn’t enchanted. Snide fashion comments aside, there were any number of reasons, from time to cost, that would prevent them from deploying it here.
Perhaps it was bordering on paranoia, but I couldn’t afford to let my guard down—not after last time. I motioned down the hall and started walking. I could only hope to Celestia that Starshadow was there. If nothing else, sorting this all out with backup would make me feel a lot better.
I had just reached the exit when the second-to-last door creaked open. Whirling, I fell into a defensive stance. Sure, it could have just been some tourist headed out to the beach, but with my mind as tense as it was, it could only see thugs around every corner.
Mint Creme turned toward the door, confusion written on her face. A blade shot out of the room, stopping just before touching her throat. A mixture of relief and dread washed over me as I realized that the razor-sharp blade was held in Starshadow’s aura; I was safe. Unless Mint Creme tried to fight back. Then things would get messy.
“In. Now.” Starshadow’s command was almost as sharp as her weapon.
“Okay.” Mint Creme’s voice was tense, but calm. “I don’t want any trouble.”
She walked slowly and deliberately, keeping herself in full view of the room. Whoever she was, she was definitely more sensible than the standard Cartel fare.
I quickly followed after Mint Creme, locking the door behind us.
Starshadow stood at the back of the room, sizing up Mint Creme from several paces away. The room itself seemed rather indifferent. It was pretty much a duplicate of my suite, but without any indication of anyone staying in the room. Aside from our presence, it was ready for the next guest.
I hoped that whatever Starshadow had done to gain access wouldn’t draw any undue attention to our little ‘meeting’—or come back to bite us in the flank sometime further down the road.
“What do you plan to do with me?” Mint Creme asked, a tinge of worry in her voice, but still remarkably calm for being held at knifepoint.
“We should be asking you the same question,” Starshadow said. “Given that you were following us around.”
I frowned. She must have kept some serious distance if I didn’t notice her, although that would have been of extremely limited value. It made sense, then, that she might have approached while I was distracted. Too bad Starshadow was keeping an eye out.
Mint Creme’s eyes flitted over to me. “I told you, I just want to talk.”
“Sorry.” I circled round to her side. “But the last pony to say that wasn’t particularly sincere. How about that proof of yours?”
“What?” Her mouth remained open, as though a dozen questions were on the tip of her tongue. She caught herself after a few moments. “R-right. It’s under my hat.”
I glanced at Starshadow. She nodded and Mint Creme’s hat very slowly tipped until it fell to the floor with a dull plop. The sunglasses came with, bouncing off the brim before skittering across the carpet.
As her ponytail fell free of her hat, it suddenly hit me: this was the same pegasus I’d seen in Canterlot, prior to our meeting with Noble Light—the one who shut the door when I looked at her. This meant she was either working with Noble Light or spying on him.
Poking out of the crown of the hat was a corner of parchment. I looked at Starshadow again. Once more she nodded, and the sun hat slid over to me.
At first glance, the document appeared to be some sort of orders. But as I read further, the writing seemed too familiar to be any official military document.
Mint,
This is a matter of utmost importance. This is entirely off the books and must remain as much. You are the only pony I can trust with this case—do not involve any other Guards.
You are to go to the location we previously discussed and await the arrival of six ponies (see the enclosed envelope). They are high priority targets. See to it that they are not harmed or followed. In addition, you are to ascertain the details surrounding the pegasus mare’s incident. I leave the method up to you.
I’m counting on you.
-Noble
The aforementioned envelope was missing, but the letter itself was more than enough to bring my train of thought up to full speed. I eyed the document a second time, then a third. I wished I’d gotten to know Noble Light a bit better; I just couldn’t be sure of the authenticity.
“So… you’re close to Noble Light?”
“You could say that,” Mint Creme replied. When I raised an eyebrow, she hastily added, “He’s my father.”
I blinked. “You’re Night Flurry’s sister?”
Mint Creme’s voice dropped a little. “Yes.”
It certainly explained why, if the letter was real, she was the only one he trusted. At the very least, now I had an easy way to verify her claims.
“Then he should be able to clear this right up.” I glanced at Starshadow. “Let’s tie her up before I head out.”
“Very well. There is a coil of rope under the bed.”
Mint Creme’s eyes went wide. “W-wait! Please don’t!”
Starshadow cocked her head. “Do you have a phobia?”
“Not that. Night. Don’t tell him I’m here.”
“What? Why?” I furrowed my brow. This was the perfect opportunity to prove her innocence. That is, unless she was lying and knew Night would out her.
“Night Light... Flurry... Whatever he calls himself now.” Mint Creme grimaced, like she’d been struck right in the ribs. “It wouldn’t end well. He… he doesn’t want to see us.”
“You realize that this doesn’t help your credibility, right?”
She sighed. “I know. But I’d rather you be suspicious of me than upset my brother.”
It was a strange sort of loyalty, not unlike Night’s initial tendencies, although less extreme. Between that and knowing his real name, she was really starting to look like the real deal.
I turned back to Starshadow. “I believe her.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. I mean, this could all be an elaborate deception, but she’s got a lot of things working in her favour. Plus she seems sincere enough.”
“All right.” Starshadow was already nodding, as though she’d been waiting for my confirmation. She lowered her weapon.
Mint Creme smiled. “Thanks. So, the incident?”
“Not yet.” I shook my head. “I trust who you are, but you’re still a stranger and I’m not going to talk about that with just anyone.”
She slumped. “I understand. How can I earn your trust?”
“Let me get back to you on that.”
---
A niggling in the back of my mind kept telling me that letting Mint Creme go was a mistake. But there was no new reasoning or information. And while there was nothing wrong with still being wary of her, I needed to be careful; letting myself get carried away because I was high strung was little better than letting my guard down entirely.
It was for that reason that, even though dusk was approaching, I found myself headed back to Terra’s little alcove. Sure, it was pretty dirty and the footing wasn’t going to be great, but it’s not like I was feeling up to the more strenuous aspects of training, anyway. Just the basics would work—the location was just fine.
Starshadow, of course, insisted on coming along. Not that I was inclined to stop her after this afternoon.
Once we’d arrived, she stood off to the side and said, “Do not worry about anything other than your practice. I shall keep watch.”
“Thanks,” I replied. Although, truth be told, I couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious. Years of practice under the strict tutelage of my mother and I was somehow more nervous during this lightweight session.
I took a deep breath, clearing all thought from my mind. Fifty headbutts. Fifty kicks from each forehoof. Fifty wing strikes, rounded off by as many bucks. I still had it. My body felt a bit stiff, even off, but muscle memory is a powerful thing.
While my worries were still waiting for me when I finished, at least I felt more relaxed. If there was one constant in the world I could count on, it was that strange combination of focus and exhaustion I always got from those old regimens.
As the ocean breeze began to cool my sweat-slicked coat, I turned to Starshadow. “I think that’s enough for now.”
She nodded. “Your form is quite good. Have you had formal training?”
“Thank you. Yes and… well, no.” I paused, pondering how to explain without getting too wordy. “I was trained by my mother, who once trained with the Guard. She left before she officially joined their ranks, but she took that knowledge with her.”
“Ah, so she created her own style.” There was a twinkle in her eye of, not quite admiration, but closer to respect.
“Yes. She taught it to me when I was just a filly. She told me that when I was older, I’d need to know how to protect myself and those I care about.” I laughed bitterly, as visions of my last fight skittered through my mind. “I try to do it justice, but sometimes I wonder.”
“Wonder what?” Starshadow gave me an expectant look.
“I… it’s just, these recent events. I’ve been practicing all my life and yet it… it wasn’t enough.” I turned to Starshadow and my voice fell, refusing to go above a whisper. “I almost died. my mother has thrown countless would-be swindlers and robbers on their backs, but a few thugs were too much for me. I can barely protect myself, nevermind Terra, Mahogany, or Night.”
Starshadow placed a hoof on my shoulder. “That is a concern many Ostfriesens hold, as well. Even the strongest warrior is still but one pony. That is why we band together when we confront monsters. So long as you need us, Merriweather and I will help you fight yours.”
While I still wished that they hadn’t gotten dragged into this to the point that such an oath was necessary, I had to admit that I was in over my head. I would take whatever I could get.
I smiled. “Thanks, Star. Can I call you that?”
“That is a fine nickname.” She nodded. “If I may add one more thing?”
“Of course.”
“Strictly speaking, your mother has an unfair advantage.”
I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, which was met by a look that said, Let me finish.
“As an instructor who developed her own style, she has a far more intimate knowledge of it than anypony else ever will. As such, you will likely never master it in the same way, but you can develop your own, the same way she took parts from that of the Guard.”
“That makes sense.” I nodded as a smirk crept up my face. “Think it could benefit from some Ostfriesen technique?”
Star cracked a smile of her own. “I would be honoured to teach you.”
“Sorry about that.” I let my smile turn sheepish. “I imagine this doesn’t even compare to life in the wastes.”
Star shook her head. “While that is true, very few dare to take on that lifestyle.”
“What?” I had this sinking feeling that I was totally off-base.
“Our land is not just the barrens. Where we settled is lush and green, with multiple sources of fresh water. Beyond that are mountains, easily accessible and rich with gems and precious metals.”
My cheeks grew warm, my own fault for going off of secondhoof rumours and legends. “Wow. Sounds like you have everything you need.”
“Mmm. Sometimes I think it is as much a curse as a boon.”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“The barrens are dangerous, even for many seasoned knights. From the Equestrian side, your ponies are so unprepared that the peril of the roads have become legend. Add that we have little want for anything material that we cannot make ourselves, and there is little incentive for trade, or rather, providing escorts for Equestrian trade. Our relationship is skeletal, at best.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” I could see where she was going now. Complacency is a universal danger, and one that Equestria was not a stranger to, either.
“Internally, small squabbles break out. Politicians get caught up in their games, obsessed with nudging the borders of their influence here and there. Were it not for the monsters and our warrior pride, I am afraid we would stagnate.” Star looked down the beach, though there was nothing there. She quickly caught herself, snapping to.
I wondered if that was why Star and Merriweather had left Ostfriesen. Merriweather certainly didn’t seem the type to be too attached to politics, which would leave her little reason to stay if Star was getting sick of them. I wanted so much to ask, but the question was almost certainly overstepping my bounds. It would have to wait for another time.
“That’s a strange irony, for sure. I suppose every system has its flaws, though.”
Star nodded before glancing over at the hotel. “We should head back. Merriweather will be wondering where we are.”
“Somehow I doubt she’ll be too worried if we’re a few minutes late.” I grinned. “But I need to find Terra, anyway, so let’s go.”
Terra had found Mahogany, who hadn’t even moved from the bar, and for the first time in while, I was surprised. However, I should have known their desire for drink would eventually override their various reservations. Knowing that they were relatively fine, I was content to leave them be.
I’d considered staying for a cider or two. However, with my nerves already subdued by my training, what I needed more than anything was a shower.
And so Star and I departed, discreetly making sure we got an elevator devoid of anyone else. It was a bit strange, since neither of us had anything to say, but we might have. If nothing else, there was something very reassuring about being on the same, cautious wavelength as her.
As the elevator doors opened, the faint scent of sweat touched my nostrils. My eyes followed the trail, straight to my door, where Night was standing.
He knocked. “Um… Dusky? You in there?”
I trotted up behind him, expecting him to turn. He didn’t. Trying not to be too amused by his preoccupation, I spoke as gently as I could. “Oh, hi, Night. Did you need something?”
He froze, but at least he didn’t jump. “I… um, wh-whoa… I, um… y-yeah! Hey, Dusky. I was, um... downstairs, looking at all the stuff and, um… well, I had... we had this idea.”
A sigh escaped his lips as he tensed up.
With a smile, I met his eyes. “Oh? Find something interesting?”
“Kind of? It, um… Mahogany and Terra and—” he paused, then started a little as his eyes fell on Star, “—a-and Merri and Starshadow, of course! Well, um… they want to do a little get-together. Just… all of us, there to hang out. So… I, um… I wanted to ask you.”
I fought back a frown as I tried to parse Night’s meandering thoughts. Normally, it wasn’t a problem, but this time, I had to work to uncross his two lines of thought. There was something oddly charming about him being so nervous about proposing a date that wasn’t a date as a follow-up to us already agreeing to go on a date.
Sneaking a glance back at Star, I wondered if she was miffed that Night had to throw her and Merriweather in as last-minute additions. She seemed more amused than anything.
Meeting Night’s eye again, I let out a giggle. “That sounds like fun. Count me in.”
He relaxed a little. “Okay! Um... Terra said she'd get a private room and, um... Mahogany said he had drinks taken care of... so... they said I just needed to be sure to bring you.”
I couldn’t help but grin. Terra was clearly feeling better if she was back to the meddling game. Still, if we were to call this a proper first date, we needed some one-on-one time.
“How thoughtful. Do you want to go out and get some food before we meet up with them?”
“Err... d-do I? I mean, yeah! Sure! Mahogany had mentioned drinks, but nothing to eat. A quick bite would probably be for the best if we'll be spending the night in the bar. Did, um... you have anywhere in mind?”
I shook my head. I’d only seen the resort restaurant so far and that certainly wasn’t going to be my first choice. “I haven't really looked around town yet.”
“I... I haven't, either.” Night frowned. “I guess we'll just have to find somewhere close. Wherever you'd prefer.”
That was probably more or less for the best. Myrtail was still fairly foreign to me and I wanted to make sure our choice of eatery was safe before I let my guard down at all. “I'll find us somewhere nice. We can head out a little earlier, before we meet everyone at the bar.”
Merriweather poked her head into the hall. “Did somepony say 'Bar'? Count me in!”
The barest of smirks crossed Star’s lips. “If you heard that, then you know we were invited, Sister.”
“Right! Perfect! We'll see ya then!” And then Merriweather was gone, the door shutting loudly behind her.
Night’s ears drooped. “She, um... said she wasn't going to listen in…”
“Sister sometimes has difficulty with her word.” Star shook her head before turning toward her room. “We shall see you both later.”
“Have a good night, Star.” I gave her a quick wave, then looked back at Night. “I'm going to shower off and get ready for bed.”
“Um... yeah. Me too.” His cheeks flushed.
A thud, followed by a muffled “Moof!”, drew my eyes back to Star. She stood outside her door, tapping her hoof, until it finally moved aside.
Merriweather appeared again, rubbing her head with a forehoof. When Star gave her a stern look, she batted her eyes. “What? He said he'd be more nervous if I was standing there listening in! What?”
Star sighed. “Come, Merriweather. Leave them be for tonight.”
“Fiiiine! I already learned what I needed to know, anyway~.” Merriweather winked at Night with all the subtlety of a neon sign. I smirked after her until her door was completely closed.
Night gave me a sheepish look, his face even redder than before. “A-all right, then. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I said, pushing my door open. Glancing over my shoulder, I added, “I'll come get you once I'm ready.”
“Then… i-it's a date.”
I grinned. “So it is.”
---
This is silly.
The thought rolled through my mind several more times as Merriweather and I left the first restaurant—and this was just the start of the day. There was just something extremely awkward about scoping out a restaurant for escape routes and suspicious factors. Although, at least I had the excuse of inquiring about the menu; this particular establishment happened to specialize in quesadillas.
As we reached the side of the road, I paused, taking a moment to calm myself. My eyes drifted over the mix of shops and restaurants. It was a tourist strip, all right, with the building line running right up to the horizon—and likely far beyond.
However, the street was currently quite quiet, which was hardly a surprise. We were wandering around a good two hours before noon, so the crowds would all be at the beach.
I stole a glance at Merriweather. “Thanks again for coming along.”
She grinned. “You say it like it’s a chore to check out all these cool places.”
“Well, it’s not that. It’s… you don’t think I’m being excessive?”
“Maybe, if I was a normal Equestrian talking to another normal Equestrian. But you’re practically an honourary Ostfriesen.”
“Um, thanks? I think?” As it occurred to me that, once upon a time, I would have been thrilled beyond imagination by such a designation, I couldn’t help but let out a bitter chuckle.
“Back home, we think of that kind of stuff all the time. It doesn’t come up very often in the city, but it’s just a thing we’re trained for. Sure, you didn’t grow up with our regimen, but you’ve obviously seen things that give you a reason to think that way. So if you ask me, you get a pass.” She smiled at me, but it wasn’t the usual, goofy smile. It was more in line with the seriousness I’d seen in Fetlock.
With a nod, I returned the smile. “Thanks.”
“Happy to help~.”
We continued from restaurant to restaurant. As I realized just how similar most of the layouts were, both inside and outside, my quest became more about the food and presentation.
There was a Griffon establishment that had enough gold decor to rival those in Canterlot, but their specialty was fish, something clearly not suited to the average pony’s tastes. Another served artisan salads under a heavy palm tree theme. One that particularly caught my eye was a pasta house with a house and hearth atmosphere.
We’d just finished up with a gourmet hayburger joint when I noticed that the street was suddenly overflowing with tourists. Somehow, I’d lost track of time. In any event, we’d covered enough restaurants that I felt confident calling off the hunt.
As I turned to survey the crowd, I spotted a familiar sun hat.
“Excuse me a second.”
Merriweather’s eyes followed mine. “Huh. Okay. I’ll just be checking out the scenery~.”
Mint Creme stared at me as I approached. It wasn’t until I was halfway there that I realized she might think I wasn’t happy with her. I stopped to wave, feeling a bit better when she replied in kind.
“Hi.” I put on my best friendly smile.
“Uh, hi?” Mint Creme tilted her head. “How did you find me?”
I tapped a hoof to my head. “Not exactly inconspicuous.”
“Oh. I guess it is a little big, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I gave her a short nod, my mind focused on choosing my next words as carefully as possible. “Anyway, that’s not why I came over. I’ve been thinking and, I’m willing to talk about the thing, if you’ll do me a favour.”
Mint Creme’s expression brightened. “Name it.”
“I want you to tell me about you and Night.”
“What, why?” She frowned.
“Like it or not, I’m in the middle of… whatever it is that's hanging over you and your family. If I’m to trust you—any of you—I need to understand what I’m getting into.”
“I…” Mint Creme’s ears drooped in a way that reminded me of a certain stallion.
“It doesn’t need to be the whole story, just enough to help me understand. I’m just not in a position to let this kind of thing slide.” I looked her straight in the eyes.
She nodded, determination filling her face. “All right. When do we talk?”
“Tomorrow, at thirteen hundred hours. Meet me in the lobby and we’ll go from there.”
---
Supper was quickly approaching and I needed to get moving. I stole one last look at the mirror, paying particular attention to my forelock. Despite the sheer volume of things Twilight had packed for me, not a single one was a nice outfit or accessory. Not that that was a surprise—I was going into hiding, not sight-seeing.
With a quick trip to the gift shop and some effort, I had been able to rig up a non-tacky hairband fitted with a plastic lily. It’s certainly not what I’d prefer to wear on a first date, but beggars can’t be choosers.
Thanks to the hairband, I could leave my elastic behind, letting the rest of my mane fall semi-free, without fear of, should a situation arise, it getting in my face. And, of course, the whole ensemble wouldn’t be complete without my scarf.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, I glanced at Merriweather, who grinned back.
“You suuuuuure you don’t want me to come along~?” she asked for the fifth time that night.
“I just need a safe zone, not a chaperone.”
“You sure you’re sure? I hear that Night fellow is a pretty rowdy guy~.” Merriweather’s grin grew wider.
The only appropriate response to that was to stick out my tongue.
“Fine. Fine. I’ll be waiting around the corner. But you’d better tell me all about it afterward~.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’ll see.”
The hall was empty as I made my way to Night’s door. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. It wasn’t because of the date itself, but because of the step we were taking. To take a friendship beyond a friendship always risks the whole thing. I could only hope my gut was right.
I took a deep breath and knocked. Unsurprisingly, the door opened immediately, revealing a grinning Night. What was surprising, was that he wore his flight satchels. While the night was going to be relatively informal, I couldn’t help but think he was planning something.
“H-hi, Dusky!” he half-said, half-exclaimed.
“Hi, Night.” I gave him a smile of my own. “Ready to eat?”
He nodded several times. “A-absolutely!”
“Let’s get going, then.” I trotted toward the elevator, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Night was following.
He shifted side-to-side as we waited for the car to arrive. “S-so, um, you found someplace to eat?”
The doors slid open and I nodded as I stepped inside. “I think I found someplace fairly simple. Hopefully that's all right with you.”
“Y-yeah. Simple is good. Whatever sounds good to you.” His eyes wandered the elevator.
“I'd prefer not to pay a small fortune for Canterlot portions.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “I found someplace a little homelier.”
After some debate, I’d settled on the pasta house. It sounded good, was a rather substantial type of food and was only a couple blocks away from the hotel. Plus, there was just something about the atmosphere that was relaxing.
The restaurant was even more inviting at night, with the stylized metal lanterns above the windows and the door lighting it up like a beacon. A softer, warmer glow filled the interior, spilling out just enough to give passersby a small taste of what they could have. This was accompanied by the faint, but sweet, scent of alfredo.
While both the street and restaurant were bustling, we didn’t have to wait for a table. We even got one right in front of a thick, stone hearth. Almost as soon as we sat down, a rather proper looking mare in a blazer came by and took our drink order. Night, of course, went for tea, while I settled for water; there would be plenty enough cider waiting for me later.
“I... you... Dusky. You, um... you look good tonight. Y-your mane, that is. It's... nice.” Night fumbled with the menu as he squirmed under his own words.
“Thanks, Night.” I looked him over, searching for something to compliment in turn. While he hadn’t dressed up, his coat and forelock were obviously groomed. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.”
He turned beet red as he let out a nervous laugh. “I... I barely did anything. But, thank you.”
Our drinks arrived and as Night sipped his tea, he stared into the fire. After a few moments, he looked at me. “This is nice.”
I leaned back, shifting my weight so that I sank a little further into my cushion. It certainly was more comfortable than I expected. “Just being in here makes me feel like I'm relaxing on a sofa.”
Night mirrored my movement, and as he let out a chuckle, I swore I could see the tension floating out of his body. “Not fancy at all. We should tell Terra about this place.”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Yeah. Finally, a place where we can get her to eat without being on the verge of a heart attack.”
He was suddenly quiet, his eyes drifting back to his flight satchel. “I... I, um... I wanted to do something else for you. I mean... it's our first d-date. So…”
Hurriedly pulling one of the bags closer, he dug his muzzle in and produced a small box. I stared at it as he pushed it across the table.
“You got me a present?” I raised an eyebrow as I placed a hoof on the box. It couldn’t be my knee-jerk reaction—it was too big for a ring; plus Night wasn’t that impulsive and forward. Yet, I couldn’t fully shake that nagging feeling.
He shrank a little. “Its um... its nothing special. Just, something I found.”
“Still, you shouldn't have.”
His ears turned down as he looked away. “I know... just... it made me think of you.”
Slowly, carefully, still unsure what it could be, I opened the lid and instantly felt bad. It was a sand dollar, not unlike many that I’d seen, but also with no equal. It was a pleasing white, its etched, five-point flower almost perfectly proportioned.
He continued talking as I examined the sand dollar. “I found it on the beach. And, that was a first. The beach, and ocean. The world. It's something beautiful, and there's so much I haven't seen. That's just a little piece of it. So... I wanted to share it with you. As... as a thank you.”
“It’s very pretty. Thank you, Night.” I smiled as wide as I could. He didn’t deserve that kind of suspicion.
“L-like I said... just something I found. I mean, it's probably nothing to you. I'm sure you've been to beaches before.” Night was looking everywhere other than at me.
“I have.” I eyed the sand dollar again. “But every beach is different. And everyone sees them differently.”
He perked up. “Oh? Really? Well, what was it like for you? This beach. Or... or the first beach you ever saw?”
I tried to think back, but I’d seen so many beaches, that I really wasn’t sure which was the first—or even many details, for that matter. “Well, I was just a foal, so I don't remember much, but I think it involved a lot of splashing.”
Amusement washed over Night’s face, eventually overflowing into a short chuckle. “It's hard to picture you like that, just... an over-excited filly.”
“I guess that’s just how curious, young people do it.” I smirked. “Just try it out and see what happens.”
The server returned again, steam still coming out of each of our bowls. As I worked on my penne, I watched Night dig into his linguine. Now seemed about the right time to start asking the more personal stuff.
“So, tell me a bit more about yourself, Night. Besides your Dad, I don't know much about your family. What are they like?”
“My... family? Well... I mean, you met my Dad. He's fine. So's my Mom. And... my sisters are... complicated.” His ears fell a little further with each word.
I tilted my head. “How so?”
“Well... I was the youngest, and the only colt. And... kind of a waste.”
“Night?” I raised an eyebrow. Seemed the wounds were already much deeper than I’d originally thought.
He shook his head, continuing as though he hadn’t heard me. “I mean... Sun was already moved out when I was born. Mint was always my friend, but once she joined the Guard, I barely saw her... and Diamond and Spring didn't want me around.”
Definitely deeper than I thought. If he and Mint Creme were so close, why did she react so negatively? I forgot about my pasta entirely as my focus turned to Night. “They didn't?”
“Well, that's what I thought. But... that night. When you got...” he trailed off before I could interrupt him. From then on, his words were more carefully placed. “... i-injured... Spring was there. She said they all missed me.”
I smiled as reassuringly as I could. “Aw, I guess that's the thing about family. Even if they're rough on you at times, they still love you.”
“Y-yeah... I suppose... I kinda miss them too. I didn't realize it until I saw Spring again.” A smile crept across his face, but quickly fell away. “But, I don't know if I can ever open that door again.”
This was my chance. “Well, why not? You said Spring came looking for you, right? What about Mint? You said you two were always friends.”
“I made a promise to her... the day she left to join the Guard. One day, I promised I'd join her, and we'd fight side by side.” He tried to shrug, but his shoulders fell far below where they started.
I chewed on a penne, trying to come up with just the right words to give him a prod without cutting him. “Do you think she holds that against you? You know your father doesn't.”
“I... don't know,” he mumbled. “Maybe someday…”
… you’ll ask? I nodded. “I'm sure you will. You're stronger than you think.”
I watched him carefully. Maybe he wasn’t Guard material, but he had the conviction to stand by his friends and that’s a quality not everyone has. Now, if only he could apply it to his past.
Slowly, but surely, he smiled. “Dusky... I, um... I'm glad that I met you.”
I met his with one of my own. “Likewise, Night Light.”
The bar felt strange—and not just because the crowd in an expensive hotel bar was predictably sparse. From the moment Night and I walked in, it was quite plain that the idea was to act like we were at the Seapony and nothing was wrong. But nothing, especially something so overly classy, can replace the Seapony and there was just this general unease that hung over us. It wasn’t so much being on edge, as a sort of restless fatigue.
Mahogany was buried deep in his drinks, as though pushing the ‘normality’ harder would allow him to will everything to be right. Terra’s mind was definitely somewhere else, as, while she took nominal sips, her first glass wasn’t even empty. I wondered if it was her business or a certain little filly that had taken over her thoughts. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Star was about as stern as ever. And, well, Night was being Night. Only Merriweather was making a serious effort to talk. While it was appreciated, as her tales of beach leering reached her admiration of the fifth or sixth butt, it was clear she was a bit short on material.
I found that the half-familiarity sent my mind adrift, back home to the mess that would be waiting. Years on the weather team and I’d barely had more than half a dozen sick days total, nevermind no-showing. With our time in Myrtail still indefinite, the chances of explaining such a long absence without revealing everything, yet not getting fired, were pretty much nil. As much as I trusted Rainbow Dash as a boss, her reputation for acting rashly killed any inclination to let her in on the truth. What’s worse, Night and Mahogany were practically in the same situation. And while Terra didn’t have to worry about that, there’s no way her absence could be good for business.
Even if all that somehow worked out, there was still the issue of the Cartel. Noble Light’s internal cleaning would come too late. While the fact that they didn’t ambush me in my home made me reasonably sure that they didn’t have my address or, possibly even know that I lived in Ponyville, it was still my last known location. I’d have to be more vigilant than ever.
I briefly considered moving. But aside from a backwater where I could disappear entirely, there wasn’t any place I could consider more advantageous than one under the watchful eye of Canterlot. If the Cartel had spies in the Guard at that moment, then they’d surely know that their little operation had made far too much noise. If I was lucky, perhaps they would decide that keeping up the chase was just too much effort.
It took a full ten minutes before I really broke out of my daydreaming. Growing fed up with both wasting the others’ efforts, as well as the dark cloud hanging over us, I decided I needed to focus on something else. Anything else.
That’s when the sound of the bar’s gramophone reached me. I don’t even remember what song it was, just that it had a catchy beat. A bout of silliness, likely fueled by my extra cider, took hold and I started humming along. Merriweather joined in immediately, with Terra and Mahogany coming in shortly thereafter. I think I even caught a few notes from Star and Night.
---
While I might have stayed up a bit late, the night’s comradery had left me in good enough spirits that I could simply shrug off the fatigue. As the elevator doors slid open, I even found myself grinning.
I actually had to look around for once, since Mint Creme had ditched her sun hat. She was waiting by the reed furniture, almost in the exact same spot as when I’d first seen her. A slight frown creased her face as she rocked from side to side—a stark contrast from previous days. Apparently, the prospect of talking about her family made her more apprehensive than having a knife held to her throat. While I felt bad, I couldn’t help but let a small smirk creep up my lips.
As I approached, I noted one more change: her lyre cutie mark was gone, replaced by a shield with mint leaves blooming from its center. I debated whether such a perfect fit made it more or less credible. With a mental shrug, I trotted up to her; by this point, her identity was far from my chief concern.
She didn’t seem to notice me. When this went on for several seconds, I cleared my throat and said, “Hi.”
“Oh!” Mint Creme snapped to, her eyes darting down the hall before fixing on me. “Hello.”
I supposed she was still trying to avoid Night, which only made me want to hear her side of the story even more. Which then made me wonder if she remembered the promise. If she did, I had a feeling she didn’t hold it against him.
“Do you need a moment?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m ready.”
“All right, this way, then.” I led her back to the elevators and took us up to the second floor. I’d booked one of the small meeting rooms about as last-minute as I dared. I still needed to be careful, but it wouldn't have done me any good to be stuck with no room at all. Truth be told, at this point, I probably could have used one of the hotel rooms, but that risked a run-in with Night when neither sibling was ready.
Because we needed another reminder that we were at a resort, the meeting room furniture was pretty much the same as those from the lobby. Even the meeting table was just a larger version of the reed-themed coffee table.
There were no windows, something that I wasn’t too broken up about. In fact, the fewer ways to be seen, the better. However, apparently the hotel felt bad enough to hang a large picture of a beach on the wall facing the door.
As soon as we were seated, Mint Creme slipped something out from under her wing and set it in the middle of the table. She gave me a sheepish look. “Sorry for not showing this before. I, uh, forgot it in my room.”
It was a small emblem of an engraved phoenix with a starburst behind it. I stared at it, but whatever importance it held eluded me. “Um, what is this?”
Confusion washed over Mint Creme’s face. “It’s my dad’s seal. To prove my identity?”
I shook my head. “Makes sense, but this is the first I’ve heard of this.”
“Huh? But Dad said you’d know.”
“Maybe he told everyone else and they forgot to tell me,” I pondered.
“Then why didn’t your friend say anything?”
It did seem odd that Star didn’t bring it up during our initial encounter. While she would have been too late to avert the confrontation, it still would have been more decisive than the letter. Of course, that wouldn’t have addressed my concerns about the Light family baggage, but still. Then it hit me.
“Oh! I know. Since we still didn’t trust you, she probably didn’t want to reveal that there was even a cue.”
The sheepishness returned to Mint Creme’s face. “Oops.”
I shook my head. “It’s all water under the bridge now.”
“Thanks.” Her embarrassment melted away, leaving a warm smile. “I guess I promised to tell you about my family, didn’t I?”
I nodded.
“All right. Just… don’t think any less of us, okay? We didn’t mean for it to end up like this.”
While I was certain Mint Creme meant for the disclaimer to be reassuring, it did just the opposite. But she deserved a chance to explain herself, so I pushed my reservations aside.
“Okay.”
“Night Light is… complicated. There was always a lot of pressure on him. From Dad, from Diamond.” Her voice wavered a little as she looked away. “From me.”
“Diamond?” I asked. Of course, I already knew that she was Night’s sister, but this seemed like the best way to probe for more information.
“Diamond Wing, our sister. She was the middle child, so I guess she always felt she had to prove herself, to stand out. Every scheme or stunt was more brash than the last, and Spring and Night often got drafted into helping her. I found out later that Night always got the least dignified tasks, with Diamond asserting that those tasks belonged to the youngest. It didn’t help that Night had a bad habit of just silently accepting his role, as though he didn’t want to get her in trouble.” Mint Creme let out a heavy sigh. “She regrets it now, of course. I mean, she wasn’t the only one who gave him a hard time now and then, but we all thought it was kid stuff. By the time we realized how he felt, the damage was already done.”
I nodded, feeling bad that I’d have to press her further. “And you? I’m guessing it was something more specific than just ‘giving him a hard time.’”
“Yes, but I don’t really know. He was a really quiet colt and, like I said, he made a habit of not speaking up. If I had to guess, I think he thinks I abandoned him.”
“Abandoned? Why would he think that?” I leaned forward. This was definitely shaping up to be nothing like what Night feared.
“Well, I was the one who usually bailed him out whenever Diamond went too far. On top of that, he looked up to me in a lot of ways. Come to think of it, I wonder if it wasn’t because I was following in Dad’s footsteps. Eventually, I had to leave home for basic. I’m not entirely sure about specific incidents, but I know that while I was gone, Mom and Sun were fighting a lot, and everyone else kind of fell through the cracks.
“Sun is another one of your sisters?”
“Yeah, she’s the oldest. Then me, Diamond, then Spring. Night is younger than all of us.”
I nodded. “So Diamond Wing pretty much had free reign.”
“More or less.”
“But that’s her fault, not yours.”
Mint Creme shrugged. “Maybe not, but there’s more to it than that.”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Our family has a long history with the Guard. Dad isn’t the first and I probably won’t be the last. I guess Night got it into his head that he needed to be part of that.” Mint Creme let out a long sigh. “I still remember when I went off to basic, he made this promise to me that we would be in the Guard together. ‘See you at the barracks,’ he’d said. Of course, basic wasn’t for him. Most of us already knew this.”
“But if you already knew,” I tilted my head, “why did you let him go?”
“I can’t speak for everyone else, but there was a part of me that hoped he’d succeed, anyway. It wasn’t about the family history. It was that whenever he spoke of the Guard, he had such confidence, a rarity in his colthood. I guess I didn’t want to take that away from him.”
While my knee-jerk reaction was to be critical based on the end result, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I would have done the same thing. There’s just something about telling someone, ‘You’re going to fail at your passion.’ that seemed exceptionally cruel.
Mint Creme stared at the wall. “He dropped out and, without so much as a word, transferred to the weather program at Cloudsdale University. I kept meaning to talk to him about it, but by the time I was able to get leave, it was too late. The day before I came home, he just disappeared and cut all ties.”
I blinked. It like such an extreme reaction, but after putting everything together, it was clear that all that miscommunication had silently built up into a powder keg. The question, then, was just how much I should meddle in this whole mess. I decided to err on the side of caution.
“Was it really that bad?”
“He must have thought it was.”
“And you think he still feels the same way?”
Mint Creme’s eyes wandered over to the beach picture. “He hasn’t come back to see us yet.”
I thought about mentioning the meeting with Noble Light, but that was more of an emergency situation. Night needed to do it without any other excuse. That didn’t mean I was out of approaches, though. “Isn’t this what caused this problem in the first place?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Just assuming he felt a certain way. It’s half of why Night was left alone until he reached breaking point, isn’t it?”
She sat there thinking for what must have been at least ten seconds. “You’re right.”
I looked her straight in the eye. “You said you wanted to talk to him. Maybe it’s a little late coming and maybe the circumstances aren’t exactly pleasant, but isn’t this basically a golden second opportunity?”
“Yeah. If Dad hadn’t sent me…” Mint Creme froze, realization washing over her face, which was then followed by a flood of laughter. “Dad, you old war horse!”
“What?”
The look she gave me was almost apologetic. “He must have had the same idea. It’s just like him to lump things together like that.”
Mixed feelings clashed as I held back a frown. Part of me was happy, because this suited my purpose. The other was annoyed that Noble Light had taken such liberties with my situation. But pragmatically speaking, I could think of no better alternative. I smirked. Might as well make the best of it.
“Well, then that’s two-to-one, isn’t it? What do you say?”
Mint Creme shook her head. “I… I’ll definitely have to give it more thought. I don’t think I can give you an answer right now.”
“Fine by me. No one wants to force anyone into anything. That would solve little.”
“I guess you’re right.” She digested her thoughts a moment more. “Well, that’s about the long and short of it. Your turn?”
I nodded. Telling this story was starting to get tiresome, but a deal was a deal. My tale didn’t get much farther than Light Horn’s ultimatum before Mint Creme started asking questions.
“Whoa, what? He threatened you? We don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour.” She tensed up, as though Light Horn had personally offended her. I supposed he had, in a roundabout way, but I wasn’t so sure that that kind of thing was always out of the question. However, in this context, I had to agree that it was highly suspicious.
I nodded. “It definitely did feel off. Yet, he was persuasive, unnaturally so. It wasn’t until I found out about the enchantments that it all made sense. In the end, I decided to take him to an old warehouse where we could talk in private.”
“Enchantments?” Alarm flashed across Mint Creme’s face. I did my best to reiterate what Star had said about their illusionary and charm properties. All the while, Mint Creme’s face dropped into a deeper and deeper scowl. Eventually, that reached a point where it broke away into determination.
She listened carefully as I laid out the ambush and its resulting carnage—there was no reason to hold back on the details this time. In fact, it was probably better if I didn’t leave anything out.
“This has all the earmarks of a Leaf Sister hit, except…” Mint Creme pondered.
“Except what?”
“Disturbing levels of infiltration aside, the part where they demanded that you give up. Once their target is vulnerable, they normally don’t bother with words.”
“That’s probably because they have a particularly big beef with me. Enough that they were ordered to capture me, although that probably got forgotten once their plan really fell apart.”
Mint Creme stared. “A big beef? You?”
I took a deep breath, unsure if I really wanted to get this deep into my past with Mint Creme. “I made… someone important angry. That’s why they hunt me whenever they can. My run-in with them in Fetlock only caused an unfortunate renewal of their efforts.”
“Autumn Leaf…” she mouthed. In retrospect, with insider information, it wouldn’t have been hard to make the connection. At least, I knew that if I were Mint Creme, some nobody winning a life-and-death fight with a Leaf Sister would be the first thing I’d think of.
With a sigh, I nodded. There was no use denying it. “Yeah. They’re not reckless enough to ruin themselves finding me, but since her sister is out to get me, they also won’t pass up an opportunity.”
Mint Creme gave me this look, like my misfortune was somehow her fault. “I’m… sorry. We’ll find a way to root out this infiltration. And we’ll do what we can to protect you. The Guard is already placing a priority on the Cartel, but they’re smart and they’ve got a head start. I promise you, we’ll win this.”
I wanted to believe her. She seemed sincere enough, maybe even more so than the other legitimate Guards I’d met. But she was just one mare against a host of shadows and her allies were an uncertainty.
As Mint Creme and I parted ways, I turned my mind to the next task. It was only then that it dawned on me that I didn’t have one. After figuring out the Light family, my next major concerns all involved Ponyville. Beyond my previous speculation, there wasn’t really much I could do.
My hooves grew restless and, before I knew it, I was already headed toward the beach. I wasn’t sure what I wanted—just something to ward off the homesickness and keep me from brooding. Another, more leisurely, stroll along the beach was a possibility. Or perhaps Merriweather could hold my scarf while I took a short dip.
I’d just reached the end of the path when I spotted what looked like Terra standing at one of the shoreline bars. Squinting, I briefly wondered if I was staring at some other green unicorn, but there was no denying the red squeaky hammer on her hindquarters.
I felt bad for leaving Merriweather behind again. However, the last thing I needed was for Terra to get even more skittish. Whatever she was doing, it must have been very important for her to brave ‘the fancy’. Not only that, but whatever was in her glass wasn’t whiskey.
A magazine was spread out in front of her; judging by the plethora of plant photos, it was some kind of gardening publication.
“Hi, Terra,” I said as I approached.
She stiffened before her head snapped to face me, her magic not-so-subtly shuffling the magazine shut. “Oh, uh… hi, Dusky! What are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same question, since, you know, the whole ‘fancy’ thing.” Trotting up beside her, I stole a look at the magazine cover—and was treated to a photo of a couple muscly stallions in provocative poses. Foxymare, it read, complete with promises of secret facts about ‘hunky guys’, as they put it. My gaze must have lingered a bit too long, as Terra’s eyes also drifted down to the cover. I gave her a sideways glance, which she quickly met. I raised an eyebrow.
“Just beach things, because not doing those on a beach would be a waste, right?” She let out a nervous laugh before taking a long sip from her pina colada. The scent was quite strong and I had to double-take, as I didn’t catch a single whiff of alcohol.
“I didn’t know that gardening was a beach activity.”
“Gardening?” She asked, running a hoof over one of the stallions. “I’m just looking at some hot bods.”
“Terra, there’s a beach right behind you.”
“Just because it’s a beach, doesn’t mean there’s going to be hot guys there!”
I stole a glance behind me and instantly caught sight of a red-and-white beach ball, high above the crowd. Predictably, it guided my gaze to the muzzle of a sleek, toned stallion and his similarly built buddies, as they butted the ball around. “Okay, that’s technically true, but rather unlikely—and patently false in this situation. Unless you’re not into the athletic type?”
She slumped. “Okay, okay, you’re right. I’ve never done more than a potted flower or two, and this whole thing is so much bigger, and needs to be perfect.”
“For Aster?”
Terra’s eyes went wide.
“Come on, Terra. We talked about this.” I sighed. “Even if you were drunk. Besides, you hang out enough that half of Ponyville must think you’re her sister or something.”
She laughed again and this time she didn’t even sound nervous. “You’re right. I… I don’t know what it is about her. I’ve never had anypony look up to me like that and it really makes me want to do a good job.”
I nodded. “And that’s what you’re planning when you get back?”
“Yeah. Whenever we get back.” She stared at the magazine.
“Sorry about this whole mess.”
“No.” Terra shook her head. “This is just one interruption. The rest has been like… finding myself again.”
Leaning over, I wrapped her in a tight hug. “Hey. I’m here for you, just like you’ve been for me. Once we get back, we’ll figure something out and you’ll both be gardening before you know it.”
“I’d appreciate it. But while we wait…” She grinned. “... why don’t you tell me about your date.”
Mirroring her smile, I cocked my head. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.”
Before I could say anything further, out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mahogany and Merriweather making their way over. Mahogany was in the lead, which, given his uneven trot, probably wasn’t the best idea.
“Sorry, I tried to stop this ruffian, but he said it was important~.” Merriweather grinned.
“Psh, like the Princess of Booze would stop her subjects from boozin’.” Mahogany waved his hoof and promptly ordered from the bar.
I raised an eyebrow. “What does that make you? The Booze Baron?”
“The Princess of Booze?” Terra was right up beside Mahogany, staring him down, before he could answer me. “That’s my title!”
“Nuh, uh. You can’t just call yourself ‘princess’ and be one. ‘Sides, she’s the one who buys all booze. How you gonna keep up with that?”
A spark lit up Terra’s eyes and she pulled back like she’d been given a static shock. She lifted her head as a familiar grin, one I hadn’t seen in ages, spread across her face. “Yes, yes. I see it now. She is the Princess of Booze, but you aren’t the Baron. You’re her prince.”
“What?!” Mahogany and Merriweather shouted in unison. I didn’t know what was weirder: being an outside observer to Terra’s matchmaking or the fact that Merriweather’s first instinct wasn’t to flirt.
I placed a hoof around Terra’s neck and smirked. “Feeling better?”
She gave me a sidelong glance. “Much.”
“Go easy on them. They’re not used to it.”
“Oh, once they realize I’m right, they’ll know it’s all worth it.”
“Assuming you’re right.”
“Hey, I got it right with you, didn’t I?” Terra grinned as she leaned up against me.
“You got lucky, that’s all. Heck, we’ve only had one date.”
“Being right is being right.” She stuck out her tongue.
“So what about the three dozen other people you tried to set me up with?”
She waved a hoof. “Not important.”
Mahogany reached over and prodded Terra. She jumped with a yelp, just about bowling me over in the process. He narrowed his eyes. “Hey, we’re still here, y’know.”
“Welcome to my world.” I couldn’t help but giggle.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind giving it a try~.” Merriweather’s gaze slowly, pointedly slid down Mahogany’s chest.
“Nope. Nope. Nope. Nothing ‘gainst ya, Merri. But I don’t do dates or love.” He took a long sip from his drink.
Without missing a beat, Merriweather shrugged. “Suit yourself. Offer’s on the table if you change your mind~.”
“Speaking of your first date...” Terra grinned.
“Yashure yer okay with it?” Mahogany finished.
“Hey! That’s not what I was going to ask.”
He gave her a severe look—a drunken one that lacked focus, but a severe one, nonetheless. “This ‘smore important.”
Terra’s only response was to make a pouty face.
“Yes.” I raised an eyebrow. “If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be dating.”
“Just makin’ sure you didn’t think you hadta.” Mahogany glanced at Terra.
I sighed. “Okay, look. We talked it out and agreed to give it a chance. Not because of the whims of any one person.”
Terra fluttered her eyes. “But what about—”
“No.”
---
I eventually left the Booze Regency. It was still too early in the day for alcohol; too early for me, at least. I wandered aimlessly, stealing glances at the rolling blue whenever the crowd thinned out. In the end, I didn’t make it too far. My split attention wasn’t really conducive to enjoying the beach.
However, I was nearly back at the hotel when my eyes fell on a small, raised patio, which held a cluster of rectangular picnic tables. While they were more utilitarian than the furniture inside the hotel proper, they certainly weren’t shy about their big, blue-and-white umbrellas. Several of the platform’s siblings dotted the hillside where the other paths neared the hotel. I hadn’t paid them much mind before, but the longer I thought, the more I realized this was just what I needed. From there, I had a much better view of the crowd, even if it placed the ocean further away. At least I could see more of the sky.
Merriweather plopped down beside me. “So, this the kind of place you usually go?”
“Not really. Resorts tend to be outside my budget. But even when it comes to less-extravagant beaches, I normally need something more than nice scenery.”
“What? You’re telling me you couldn’t watch this scenery all day~?” Her eyes fell on a passing stallion’s rear.
“Nope.” I gave her as deadpan a look as I could before sticking out my tongue. “Maybe an hour or two. I’m not insatiable, unlike you and Terra.”
She laughed, long and heartily. “I’m not insatiable. Just… mostly insatiable~.”
“Anyway, I guess you could call me more of a ‘buried treasure’ mare—unique landmarks and objects and the like. Places that are too similar tend to wear thin.”
“Then don’t ever go traveling with Sis’. It’s all monsters and role models with her. You’d be bored out of your skull.”
I smirked. “Somehow, I doubt it’s the boredom that would put me off.”
By now, the sun was just kissing the horizon, creating a soothing purple where orange met blue. I wondered where the day had gone, but not being out and about until the afternoon really should have left that as no surprise. Regardless, I figured I could at least enjoy the sunset.
“Hmmm.” Merriweather stood. “Those drinks are catching up with me. You gonna be okay while I hit the fillies’ room?”
I nodded. “Just don’t forget the meeting spot.”
“Of course. Seeya in a few~.” With a wave, she was off.
Even keeping an eye on the slowly dissipating crowd, I couldn’t help but notice the sun playing over them. There was just something about their orange-tinted coats shining like beacons, juxtaposed next to deep purple shadows, that felt elegant and pleasing.
A speck just over the horizon caught my eye. With the way it bobbed, it was no doubt someone flying. It was steadily approaching and I didn’t need long to realize that the shape was Night. The sun and shadows may have thrown his coat colour and silhouette off, but the cowlick sure made for easy guessing.
He landed somewhere closer to the beach—I supposed he hadn’t seen me. I debated going to the edge of the balcony to wave him over, but he started up the path that would take him right up the backside of the patio.
I heard him reach the top of the platform, but he didn’t say anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him hesitating. Finally, he cleared his throat. “H-hey, Dusky, um... mind some company?”
Glancing back, I smiled. “Oh, hi, Night. Not at all. Come have a seat.”
While he did sit down, he left a space just a bit wider than two ponies between us. He squirmed, perhaps considering that the distance wasn’t enough.
Giving him an odd look, I asked, “Something wrong?”
His head turned slowly, eyes more on the space between us than me. “I… um, n-no. I… s-sorry. Just, well…”
Night slumped a bit, a long sigh escaping his lips. “I’m not very good at this.”
“It's okay, you'll get it figured out.” I tapped right beside me. “In the meantime, come sit beside me. I won’t bite.”
As he inched toward me, his eyes met mine, and he smiled. “I just… I keep thinking I’ll do something wrong.”
“You probably will.” I wondered if he realized he wasn’t the only one with that fear and I couldn’t help but giggle. Learning over, I nudged him under the chin. “And so will I. The important thing is that we learn from the mistakes when we do.”
Night exhaled shifting all the while. “That… actually makes me feel a lot better. I mean… I’m far from perfect.”
“No one is perfect.” I shivered a little, but pushed the dark thoughts aside. “And I’ve certainly learned there’s such a thing as trying too hard.”
“Trying too hard…” His gaze drifted out over the ocean. “I’ve been doing that for a long time… I… I’m sorry. I want to try my best, Dusky. But… I’ll try not to, um… try too hard.”
A somber smile touched my lips. “Believe me, it’s easier said than done. But I’m happy you’re willing to try.”
Night’s eyes grew distant again. “You… you do a lot of traveling, right?”
“Every summer, give or take.”
He was suddenly thinking hard, his next question sounding like more of a stray thought. “And you always come back to Ponyville?”
“To put it simply, after a while, I start feeling a little homesick. And Ponyville is my home.” In fact, even though we hadn’t been gone that long, the barest tinge of that feeling pulled at my heart. I chalked it up to this journey being both disorienting and unplanned.
“Home?” Another thought escaped his lips.
“I spent a lot of time growing up there. As much as I like seeing the big cities and all the wonders of the world, some peace and relaxation is often just as nice.”
“B-but... what if it's not so peaceful anymore?” Night looked guilty, like it was somehow his fault that the Cartel was chasing me. “I mean, w-what if it's not safe for you there?”
I sighed. “I've considered that, but I'm not ready to give up on Ponyville just yet.”
“I... I'll stand with you, Dusky. At home, or... or away.” He took a deep breath. "There's so much I've missed. So much to see in this world."
“You've still got plenty of time.” I let myself drift up against him, just enough for me to feel the warmth of his coat. “Plus, I can be your tour guide.”
“Y-you would?” His surprise was odd. I didn’t know what else he expected.
I let out a giggle. “What, you think I'd just leave you to wander a far-off city on your own?”
His cheeks went red. “I um... I guess not. But... still, I can't think of a better way to see Equestria, than by your side.”
He pressed his body against mine, in an obvious, but not entirely successful, attempt to match my lean.
“I'm happy to hear that.” I pondered where to start. There were many places I’d always wanted to show off, but many were likely too far for his first journey.
“Oh, um…” another voice began. I had to think about it for a moment, but I quickly recognized it as Mint Creme’s. “Oh, um... excuse me, you two, um... I mean, h-hi, Night.”
Night stiffened, but didn’t turn.
Giving him another nudge under the chin, I glanced behind me. “Hi, Mint Creme.”
“M-Mint?” Night’s uncertainty was tangible.
Mint Creme’s forehoof was raised, but the look on her face told me she wasn’t sure about approaching. The fact that Night still hadn’t turned around likely wasn’t helping.
She spoke in a low voice, “I, um... yeah. Hi, err... how you doing?”
“What... wh-what do you want, Mint?”
I could practically see the words cleaving through the air in front of Mint Creme, even though I was certain Night didn’t mean it that way. Regardless, she took a step back and swallowed.
“Aw, horse feathers, Night... I... I don't want anything. I just thought I’d say hi to my favourite brother. I... I'll go.”
“I... I'm your only brother.” Night’s eyes glistened, no matter how many times he blinked. He looked up at me, the barest of smiles on his lip. “D-Dusky... I'm sorry... can you excuse me for a moment?”
Smiling as reassuringly as I could, I nodded. “Take your time.”
Mint Creme was already halfway to the door. She shook her head. “I... I shouldn't have interrupted you two... I... th-this was a bad idea, I'm sorry.”
“M-Mint. Mint, wait.” Night was on his hooves in an instant, although he took much longer crossing the patio.
She worked her mouth, though nothing came out. Night was much the same. Their long stares stretched on and on. I started to wonder if they needed more space, but there were no stairs behind me. Anything I could do would either be noisy or pass right by them—and I was afraid that if I ruined the moment, there wouldn't be any further chance of reconciliation. I didn’t dare move.
Finally, Night rushed forward and embraced his sister.
Mint Creme’s voice was barely audible as she choked out her words. "W-we've missed you, you know."
“I... I guess I missed all of you as well.” Night’s joy seemed to overflow, laughter joining his tears.
It wasn’t long before Mint Creme followed. “You guess?”
“I... I've been thinking about you a lot, lately.”
Mint Creme reached up, her hoof lingering for a few seconds before ruffling Night’s mane. “Y-yeah, me too.”
He smiled wide, eyes distant for a couple seconds. “I'm... I'm so sorry, Mint. I never meant to break my promise.”
“No, Night, I'm sorry. I never wanted to lose my brother, not for any promise.”
Night turned back to me, his body visibly shaking. “D-Dusky, this is Mint. My sister.”
“We've met.” I smiled.
“Oh, umm... right.” There was a mix of realization and confusion in his voice. “You've met?”
Mint Creme gave him a sheepish look. “There was an incident, and well, she thought that maybe I was a spy.”
“A... spy? Mint? What?” Standing stock still, Night stared.
“Well, I wasn't!” Her ears drooped. “I mean, I guess I was. You know, for Dad.”
“Oh, right.” Night sighed. “Sorry about that, Dusky.”
I smirked. “We figured it out.”
“Dad said I was the only one he could trust with this. I didn't want to upset you, Night, so I tried to stay hidden. I... I didn't know if you'd want to see me or not.”
Night slumped until he sat on the ground. “Mint, I... I really did miss you.”
Without hesitation, Mint Creme wrapped him in a hug. “You're still welcome at home, Night. Mom misses you. Me, Spring, Sun and Diamond, we all miss you.”
“Mom…” Bewilderment filled his eyes as he looked up at her. “D-Diamond... doesn't she hate me?”
Mint Creme’s laugh was more sad than amused. “Do you really think that?”
“W-well, yeah. After everything she did? She must hate me.”
“Sun and I have talked about it, and Diamond really beats herself up over it. She blames herself, though in fairness, we all took some of the blame.” She sighed, loosening her hold just enough to look Night in the eyes. “Night, just... promise me. Promise me you'll come home, at least once. Let Diamond say her piece, and let Mom know you're alright.”
“I... y-yeah. I promise, Mint. I promise.” Night spoke rather quietly, as though fighting back tears again.
“I'll hold you to this one, Night.”
“Th-then I'd best live up to it.”
Mint Creme’s gaze drifted up to the sky and mine followed. The sun was gone now, leaving only a soft purple.
After a moment, her eyes returned to us. “It's later than I thought. Night? Dusky? I'll see you two around, right?”
Night nodded. “Y-yeah, of course. Of course, Mint.”
I stepped up beside him. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere anytime soon.”
“Oh, uh, right. Right. Sorry! I'll catch up with you, then. You two... enjoy the rest of your night.” And with that, she scurried into the hotel.
Night’s eyes flitted over to me as he sighed. “We missed another sunset... sorry.”
I giggled. Once things had gotten rolling, it’d been far from my priority. “That's okay, we'll have more chances, I'm sure.”
“Yeah.” His voice was much lighter, matching the grin that was spreading across his face. “So we shall.”
Without work, or at least an itinerary of my own, the days began to blend together. I tried to keep myself busy, my training in the mornings growing longer with each day until I was practically encroaching on noon. It was then that Terra and Mahogany would finally wake. Lunch was the only real time when everyone was there there—that is, before the alcohol set in.
Evenings were typically filled with our continued efforts to treat the hotel bar like the Seapony. But with more alcohol. Since this time always fell under Merriweather’s shift, this basically left Night and I as the only ones coherent enough to converse. Sometimes we’d sneak off and have a late supper together. I’d never thought I’d find myself consistently looking forward to dating, but there it was—not that I’d ever admit it to Terra.
Otherwise, the rest of my waking hours were usually spent sitting at one of the terrace tables, continuing to salvage what I could of the view. My attention drifted away from the ocean and the beach—at least when Terra and Merriweather weren’t around.
My feathers longed for the the cool touch of the clouds, my face for the blast of wind cutting through my mane, my eyes for the panoramic view as my wings held me steady over the land below. Sure, my training involved several wing exercises, which included striking while hovering or diving, but in keeping that concealed to Terra’s alcove, that could hardly be called flight. I wanted to soar.
I marshalled my reasoning: laying low did not mean darting off into the sky. Still, even such logic was barely enough to counter the instinct taking hold of my torso, where my wings met my sides. It wasn’t painful—more like an itch that compelled me to move. I promised myself that once we were back, I’d make a trip out to Canterlot.
One afternoon, I’d chosen one of the terraces that was closest to the end of the hotel. At this time of day, these particular tables tended to be more or less deserted. But it wasn’t the solitude that I sought. No, I simply needed to shift platforms, to change the scenery, if only a little.
Star and I were seated at the middle table, both of our gazes on the horizon. It had become something of a tradition, though I wasn’t sure if she was doing it to be polite or because she had some thinking of her own to do. Given that her stare was nothing like the longing from when we’d last discussed Ostfriesen politics, I was leaning toward the former. Then again, she could just be hiding it a bit better.
We’d barely been there half an hour when a creak on the patio steps pulled my ears behind me. Star and I both turned in time to see Mint Creme practically bounding up the stairs. Her left wing was clutched tight against her body, but each time she moved, a corner of white paper poked out from beneath her plumage.
“Dusky.” She grinned.
“Yes?” There was only one thing I could think of that could elicit this kind overt joy. But I didn’t dare believe it. Not yet.
Mint Creme shifted her wing, sliding an envelope onto the table. “This is for you.”
I flipped the flap open and was treated to a stack of tickets. My heart skipped a beat. “This is…”
She nodded. “It leaves in two days. You’re in the clear.”
Finally, was my first thought. It’d been a long month—yet, I had to remind myself that for what Noble Light had set out to do, it was impressively fast. Either he cut a lot of corners or was just that brutally efficient. Given that his son’s life was on the line, I was reasonably sure it was the latter. I made a mental note never to make him angry.
A smile crept up my face. “Thanks.”
“Hey, it’s the least we can do.” She looked sheepish for a second. “You never should have had to deal with this.”
I couldn’t help but let out a low giggle before shaking my head. “Perhaps if my younger self had been smarter, you wouldn’t need to make such an apology. But that’s all in the past now.”
“I suppose. Hope things get better for you soon.”
“And for you, as well.” I nodded. “It couldn’t have been easy on you or your father.”
“No. But we’ll live.” Mint Creme glanced behind her. “Speaking of the future, I need go to talk to Night.”
“Okay. Well, until we meet again.”
“Until we meet again.” She flashed me another smile. “Oh, and, I don’t think I need to say this, but don’t hurt Night.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
With a satisfied nod, Mint Creme departed.
Home. I let out a long breath, and with it, a weight that I’d long forgotten wasn’t a natural burden.
“Congratulations,” Star said, snapping me back to reality. She wore a smile broader than any I’d ever seen cross her face.
“Thanks. It… it almost feels too easy.” I pondered a second. “I suppose that’s because it’s not really over yet. But for now, I’ll take what I can get.”
She nodded. “Perhaps a celebratory drink is in order. My treat.”
With a smirk, I looked her straight in the eye. “You feeling all right?”
“What do you mean?” Star arched a brow.
My grin widened. “Celebration? Booze?”
“Hey! I will have you know that I am just as familiar with the concept of fun as my sister.”
I tried to hold my face straight. It probably helped that I was already smiling, but I still didn’t make it past ten seconds before I cracked. Star followed shortly thereafter.
---
The train platform was long—big city long. At first glance, it seemed overkill, even for a popular resort town. On the other hoof, it was a popular resort town in a location that wasn’t especially easy for everyone to reach. Longer trains would let them accommodate more tourists with fewer trips. And, of course, a place like this couldn’t have its clients just jumping off into the dirt.
Instead, the concrete was painted to look like sand with colourful beach towels scattered here and there. Each artificial towel was effectively a cutesy sort of sign, sending tourists here and there. While there were no trees on the platform itself, the station had several tall palm trees whose fronds loomed over its roof. Not to mention that the platform side had a long awning designed to look like a canopy of fronds.
On top of that, the platform was angled in just such a way as to give a perfect view of the ocean. It was a pretty old, but time-proven, strategy: get them excited coming in so that they’ll spend more bits, then remind them of what they’re leaving behind so they’ll come back next year.
While I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t exerting at least a little bit of influence on me, the main reason I wanted to come back was the unknown. The extenuating circumstances had kept me from giving Myrtail a proper exploration. Once things had cooled down enough, I wanted to see what the town really had to offer.
The sort of weary happiness that everyone wore told me that they were likely thinking similarly. Perhaps in a couple years, we could work out a group vacation. At least, that was probably about how long some of us would need to save up enough money.
Terra let out a whoop and I turned just in time to see the train pulling in.
Even though we had a private car, I still found myself gravitating to the back. Granted, it wasn't like anyone with ill intent would respect our privacy.
Night followed closely behind and I think everyone else took that as a hint to give us a bit of space. Terra flashed me a smile and a wink, to which I rolled my eyes.
Stopping in the aisle, he gave me a sheepish look. “Um, Is this seat taken?”
I couldn’t help but giggle. Seemed like I wasn’t the only one letting my habits drive me. I tapped the empty cushion. “Of course not.”
He took his time, setting his bags aside before spending several moments wriggling into the seat. “So, um... back on the train.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” I gave him a smile.
As the train lurched forward, he sighed, deflating a bit. “Y-yeah. Trains.”
I leaned in and nudged him under the chin. When he didn’t look at me right away, I pressed up against his cheek. “There's a reason I'd rather fly, but that's not always an option. Besides, it’s not like trains don’t have their own advantages.”
“Well... it's not just the train.” He blushed before leaning forward to dig into his bags. He produced a decent-sized box, the kind gift shops go through hundreds of.
I peered at it, waiting to see just what he was getting at. He wasn’t as nervous as last time, so I guessed it wasn’t for me. With some effort, Night coaxed a snow globe out of the box. Several flecks of ‘snow’ lazily floated through the globe’s enclosed air. Most of it had already settled on the stereotypical beachscape, including the tiny sign that declared, ‘Myrtail Beach’. I’ve always found souvenir snow globes quite humourous, since their creators like to make them for areas that any pegasus would know better than to dump snow on.
“I bought it the other day, once I heard we were leaving.” He gave the globe a shake, a slight smile forming on his face as he watched the flecks. “It just seemed perfect for me.”
My gaze slipped down to his snowflake cutie mark and I giggled. “Never would have guessed.”
He chuckled in turn. “Maybe it is a little obvious.”
“So then, what else is bothering you?”
“It's just... going back.” His smile turned melancholic. “I'm... happy. I mean, I can't think of a time I've been happier. My time with you, catching up with Mint, the beach, all of it.”
In other words, he’d become comfortable. I leaned over, trying to smile as encouragingly as I could. But part of me was just a little wary of what he might say next.
The sadness in his smile disappeared for just a moment. “For... for as awful as the circumstances that brought us here, it's been... well, I just... I almost wish this trip wasn't ending.”
I let out a gentle giggle. “If this trip never ended, then how would you ever see any of those other places you've been wanting to see?”
Night’s mouth hung open for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Oh. Right. You're right. I guess... I mean, um... this.”
With a slow, awkward lean, he gave me an equally awkward nuzzle. “This feeling, you and I, and even my family. I... I'm afraid that once we get back, things will just go back to how they were.”
He suddenly pulled away, eyes wide. “N-not that that's a bad thing, what we had before, or who we were. I mean, that was good, and if we were just friends it'd be fine, but I l-like... this. And, what we are... um… I... I'm rambling.”
“You underestimate yourself.” A smirk crept up my lips; there was just something cute about how he had to specify that he treasured everything. I looked him straight in the eye. “We'll be the same in Ponyville as we were in Myrtail. It's tied to us, not where we are.”
“S-sorry. I'm... I'm scared, and worried, and I just... I get worked up sometimes, and I—” Night stared ahead, whatever words that had been on his tongue only continuing in his head.
I tilted my head. “Are you okay, Night?”
Night let out a laugh. “I just... I just realized what might make me feel a little better.”
“What?”
“A... a promise. Promise me you won't be a hero.” He gave me a sheepish smile.
It took me a moment to process that he’d just asked what he asked. I laughed as I replied, “And what makes you think I would try to do that?”
He scuffed his hoof. “Well... your trip to Hoofington.”
I don’t think he quite understood what I’d been getting at when I first said the phrase. Still, he had something of a point. Something in me instinctively, even readily rose to meet danger. It was never stronger than the urge to fall back, but sometimes I did worry myself.
“That's not quite the same thing, but I know what you mean.” I gave him another nuzzle. “I promise to try to stay away from danger.”
“Maybe not the same, but still. Thank you, Dusky.” He leaned in, matching my pressure. “We'll see what Ponyville and the future holds then... t-together.”
“Together.” I grinned as I stole a short peck on the cheek.
Night didn’t say anything else, but the colour flooding his face told me everything I needed to know.
---
Our arrival in Ponyville had been a bit tense, though likely needlessly so. I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but some part of me assumed the Cartel would be waiting in some form. This had been rebuked by the platform being almost completely empty.
Once we were sure everything was all right, everyone had parted ways. My first stop, after checking my apartment and depositing all my luggage, had been the weather office. But it was late, Dash wasn’t in, and, unsurprisingly, I wasn’t scheduled at all.
Finally deciding that I might be better off just getting everything taken care of in the morning, I headed for the Seapony. I wasn’t sure how badly I wanted a drink, but just being there would make me feel better.
As I neared the bar, I was so lost in thought that it took me a second to realize that the approaching blue pegasus mare and orange unicorn were people I knew.
I didn’t even have a chance to open my mouth before Blaze was barraging me with questions. “Dusky! Where have you been?! You tell me to meet you here and then don’t show up? What’s the big idea?!”
My heart sank. I’d forgotten that I’d told her to stop by. What’s more, I’d disappeared for an entire month. To say she and Blizzard were concerned was most likely an understatement. “Sorry, you two. I didn’t mean to worry you. There were… complications.”
Blaze’s indignance melted into pure seriousness—I don’t know if that made me feel better or worse.
“Was is those guys from Fetlock again?” Blizzard asked, her face just as serious.
“Well, yes and no. Look, let’s talk about this inside.”
Both Blaze and Blizzard nodded, but we didn’t get to take so much as a step. The sound of rapid, four-hooved bouncing pulled each of our heads down the road. Pinkie was already upon us, her twin saddlebags practically overflowing with party supplies.
“Dusky! Dusky! Where have you been?” she shouted. “I was worried. I mean, we both were, but then Dash was just mad ‘cause you kept not showing up for work!”
She flailed her forehooves for emphasis.
I looked down. There was really nothing I could say that didn’t have a high chance of coming back to bite me in the rear. “Sorry, Pinkie. Complicated things happened. I’ll have to talk to you and Rainbow Dash about it later.”
The thought crossed my mind that I could have invited Pinkie to our impending discussion, but at that point, I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her. In the very least, I needed to consider just how much of it might make it back to Rainbow Dash.
“No. Don’t worry about Dash,” Blizzard said. When I raised an eyebrow, she winked. “I’ll explain things to her.”
“Oh? Okay!” Pinkie smiled. “Well, gotta go! Got a surprise party at Fluttershy’s! Don’t tell anyone!”
“Doesn’t that mean you shouldn’t be shouting—” Blaze began, but by then, Pinkie was already gone. She just stared.
I smirked and shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. Pinkie Pie only works to her own rhythm.”
“Uh… okay.”
“So,” I said, turning back to Blizzard. “What was that about?”
“While you were gone, Canterlot took me on as part of their country-wide snow administration team. I’ve got ponies working under me now.” She gave me a meaningful look.
“Wow, well, congrats.” I smiled, though my next thoughts wiped it clean. “But you don’t have to do that for me. You just got that job.”
Blizzard shook her head. “Hey, you’ve done so much for me. It’s the least I can do.”
“Well, okay. But only if you let me put some legit time in.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at myself, if only internally—not even home a day and already in the back room.
As I nosed the door shut, I glanced at the rear table. Blizzard was sitting quite patiently, while Blaze was still standing, shuffling her hooves as she stared back at me.
“So, how did you two meet, anyway?” I asked, one ear to the door.
“When you didn’t show up for the third night in a row, I started asking around,” Blaze replied. “Ran into somepony else who was left behind.”
I winced before nodding. Regardless of tact, she was right. By this point, my past was haunting more than just me. “Sorry.”
Blizzard let out a soft chuckle. “If nothing else, we each got to make a new friend. And trade a couple interesting stories.”
Satisfied that no one was eavesdropping, I trotted over to the table. I looked between my two friends, who said nothing more, which gave me a pretty good idea of just which stories they had been discussing.
“Not in public, I hope.”
“Course not.” Blaze shook her head before flashing me a grin. “I was taught better than that.”
“Right.” I mustered a smile of my own. “I guess I’ll get started, then.”
Once again, I tried to keep the gory details as limited as possible. My concern was chiefly Blizzard, though Blaze wasn’t exactly a hardened veteran, either. While Blaze and I had been in a few bloody battles together, battle prowess aside, she’d shown me just how hard the results can hit her. The fact that she wasn’t peppering me with questions was a clear indication of the latter kicking in.
As I neared the end of the warehouse segment, they both grew visibly tense. This only increased with each detail, but at least Blizzard seemed to have a limit. Blaze, on the other hoof, almost looked ready to fight. If a Cartel agent had come through the door right that moment, I’d bet she would have been on them faster than Rainbow Dash joining a race.
By the time I’d finished skimming over my blackout, Blaze was pawing at the ground. She looked at me, a fire in her eyes much like when we had first met—when she’d thought she was championing the safety of her hometown.
“I wished I’d been there,” she growled.
I shook my head. “No one saw it coming. If I had, I certainly wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place.”
“Doesn’t mean we wouldn’t help.” Blizzard’s eyes flitted from Blaze to me. “But we’re glad you pulled through.”
I nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t pretty, but it turns out that I had actually made it to the bar.”
Myrtail was surprisingly easy to sum up. Granted, when I really thought about it, leaving out the details of my love life and the nitty gritty of Noble Light’s antics all but guaranteed a short tale.
Blaze was a bit calmer now, chewing thoughtfully on her words as she spoke, “I’m glad you’re okay, but y’know, if anypony else told me they got stranded in a fancy resort for a month because they almost died, I don’t think I’d believe them.”
“Same here.” Blizzard shook her head. “It’s almost like something out of a super spy novel.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “If this were a super spy novel, I’d have taken down the bad guys and been home in time for dinner. I’m just a normal mare.”
When they both gave me funny looks, I added. “Okay, okay. I admit that I must be some kind of weirdness magnet, but I’m certainly no super spy.”
“Sadly.” Blizzard gave me an apologetic smile.
Blaze nodded a few times before snapping her head forward, eyes wide. “Hey! Hold on a sec. You said they used magical helmets, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And a Guard Captain was working to root them out?” She leaned forward. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.
“That’s right.”
Her face lit up. “Oh! It all makes sense now.”
“Something happen?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah! Over the last month, there were several surprise equipment inspections. Didn’t think much of it, since I ain’t got any of the real stuff yet,” Blaze said, a small frown creeping across her face, “but some of my friends were complaining about how picky the higher-ups were being.”
“Picky so that they had ample time with the helmets?”
“Probably. Course, they were looking at the whole suit, insisting it be spotless, sayin’ the Crystal Empire’s Princess might drop by, so I don’t think anyone suspected.”
“‘Might?’” I asked
Blaze shrugged. “Yeah. In case she had to run off and do princess-y things, I guess. She did show up, anyway. Didn’t get a look at her, myself, but it was the talk of the barracks for a few days.”
“Pretty sneaky.” I couldn’t help but smirk. It was seriously doubtful that Noble Light had the clout to call in a foreign princess, even if she was originally Equestrian, to help him deal with an internal affair. Which left only one other possibility—and an opportunity to confirm that something was done. “So, did anyone get outed?”
“A few ponies got pulled aside,” Blaze answered. “Come to think of it, I ain’t seen any of them since.”
Guess that settles that.
With a shake of her head, Blizzard let out a sigh. “This still sounds straight out of the loony bin. So what happens now?”
“Nothing, hopefully,” I answered, adding my reasoning as much for myself as for them. “This whole operation has been pretty catastrophic for the Cartel. To pursue things further, especially when their Canterlot network has been crippled, would be a huge risk. If they have any sense of self-preservation, they’ll cut their losses and back off.”
Blaze frowned deeply. “And that’s it? We sit back and let them go about their evil ways?”
“Well, yes. It’s not like we can storm their headquarters and take down their leader, which—even if we somehow could, might not even put an end to things. I’m not a super spy, remember? Whatever happens next is up to the Guard.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “Right.”
---
Terra stood in the shadows of the main road, staring down a side street, at a cottage two blocks away. It was a tiny, rundown thing with peeling paint and crooked shutters. Oddly enough, the lawn, which was cut in half by a gravel path, and the two shrubs flanking the door, were lush and green.
I sighed. “Terra?”
She kept staring ahead, eyes fixed firmly on the door.
“Terra!”
“Huh?” With a start, she turned to me, blinking a couple times, as though she’d forgotten I was even there.
“If you keep standing there, someone is going to mistake us for burglars and then things are going to get weird.”
“Oh, yeah. That would be bad.” She still didn’t move. “Maybe we should come back tomorrow.”
“Don’t make me drag you over there.”
“Like you could.” She waved a hoof.
“Fine, probably not, but you’re the one who wanted to get this figured out.”
“Yeah, but… but, what am I supposed to do? What if me me is too different from other me and it traumatizes her?!” Terra shifted from hoof to hoof.
“One, you’re still being considerate of her even now. Two, even after you got your ‘sexy’ back, you went back over that garden magazine fr—”
“Sexy stallion magazine!” she snapped, just a little too loud. I thought I heard the sound of a few shutters closing.
I sighed. “Okay, if you talked to her about that, then we might have more than one problem. But I know what you were doing, Terra. You barely saw more than the centerfold.”
“Hahaha, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Thankfully, that got her moving—and at a decent pace, no less. Of course, it turned out that the impulse to avoid admitting things to me was no match for the cottage’s door.
This left me with a bit of dilemma. I didn’t want to force Terra’s hoof, but standing out here arguing was liable to freak out pretty much everyone inside. So I did the only thing a good friend could do. Terra’s face contorted with increasing panic as each of my three knocks echoed out into the night.
“What did you do that for?!” she hissed.
“You’re welcome.”
The door swung open and there stood Aster, staring up at us with the severity of a treasury guard addressing a pack of hooligans. “What do you want?”
Terra’s demeanor immediately shifted. “Young filly, that is not how you address your elders.”
Aster scowled. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t have to if my elders didn’t break their promises.”
“And I’m very sorry for that,” Terra’s expression softened as she leaned forward. “Something came up.”
“Oh. Yeah. ‘Something’. Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
“It was my fault,” I interjected.
Aster peered up at me. “What?”
“I had an emergency—a private emergency and I really, really needed Terra’s help. She would have been here for you if she could have. So if you have to blame anyone, blame me.”
“I…” Aster continued to stare, as though concentrating hard enough would let her see into my brain and decide if I was being honest.
A stallion’s voice cut through the silence. It was muffled and tired, coming from well inside the cottage. “It is ten o’clock, Aster. Who are you shouting at?”
The floorboards creaked as heavy hoofsteps slowly, but steadily, approached. Aster’s attention had turned inward and after a few moments, she scooted to the side, letting a large, dark tan stallion step into view. He looked like he’d once been bulky, the last vestiges of toning apparent in odd places. A thick cloth girdle wrapped around his barrel, with a secondary belt wrapped around his neck. Between that and the way he carried himself, if I had to guess, I’d have said it was a back brace. A light grey pillar sat on his flank, though I wasn’t quite sure what it represented. His mane was a pale purple, as though the grey of his cutie mark had been tinted.
“Oh, hello, Miss Terrabona.” He glanced at Aster. “Aster, why didn’t you say Miss Terrabona was here?”
Aster grumbled something incomprehensible. The stallion didn’t seem to mind. He simply smiled at Terra and I; it was a practiced smile, the sort of tired grin that both hides and gives away the troubles beneath. If nothing else, I couldn’t fault him for trying to be pleasant.
Terra smiled wide. “Hi, Stalwart. Sorry to bother you. I just need to have a quick chat with Aster.”
“And who’s your friend?” His gaze lingered a bit before he glanced at me.
“Oh! Yes, um, Dusky, this is Stalwart Stone. Stalwart, Dusky Down.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Down.”
“Likewise.” I smiled.
“Well, then, come right in. Sorry about the mess.”
“No, no” Terra waved a hoof. “We should be apologizing for showing up unannounced.”
Stalwart Stone stepped aside so Aster could hold the door for Terra and I. As soon as we were inside, Terra was practically on top of Aster, demanding the details of their month apart. All theory of her mothering being a side effect of Star’s spell died right there.
My own attention turned to the interior of the house itself. There was only one room, its floor and walls about as beaten and scuffed as the outside. Across from the door, a fire danced in the hearth; beside it was an empty pot, the faint scent of potatoes wafting out of it.
A couple of small beds were tucked into the far corner, neither of which had been made. While I was used to sleeping in a single size bed, there was just something about these ones that felt especially lonely. Perhaps it was more the fault of the room than anything. Aside from a rickety table and a couple old wooden shelves, the place was just plain sparse.
As I scanned the shelves, something at the top caught my eye. While most of the contents were about as drab and mundane as the shelves themselves, these were colourful binders; I couldn’t quite make out the patterns, but the choice of palette was gaudy enough that it wouldn’t seem out of place in Canterlot.
“Binders got your eye?”
“Yeah.” I looked at Stalwart Stone, who still had that same polite smile on his face. “They’re rather vibrant.”
“Everypony says something to that effect.” He chuckled, although, much like his smile, there was a certain tired weight to it. “They’re just mementos from a time long past.”
I nodded, not quite sure if he was volunteering more information or giving me just enough to ward me away from the topic. At this point, erring on the side of the latter was probably the better idea.
“So, what do you do for a living?” Try as I might, I couldn’t quite keep my eyes off his back brace. If we hadn’t found Aster wandering around so often, I might have guessed that he was out of the work force entirely. Which, I suppose, only served to make me more curious.
“I work for the Canterlot Independent Masons. Pushing paper.” The second sentence carried a tinge of bitterness. Given his cutie mark, I didn’t have to think too hard about why.
My familiarity with those particular masons, or even masons in general, was pretty limited. My dad had mentioned them in passing a couple times, but they just weren’t the type of customer he dealt with too often. All I knew was that they were a small-time organization who took smaller contracts. I wracked my brain for something that would be inoffensive, yet not painfully generic.
“Canterlot? So you commute there and back every day?”
He nodded. “Not because I want to, mind. Housing just ain’t cheap up there.”
“You can say that again.”
Stalwart Stone’s attention had turned to Aster and Terra and for just a moment, his smile dropped.
“I’d rather spend it with her. She deserves so much better than this.” He shook his head. “I guess what I mean to say is, I’m glad she found someone who can help her. An old stallion like me can only get so many notes from the teacher before he starts worrying.”
Terra wore a warm smile and a motherly gaze as she addressed Aster. “I can still help you spruce up the yard if you’d like.”
“I already fixed it.” Aster grumped, crossing her forehooves.
“Fixed it, yes. But what about those flowers you wanted?”
“They… they were too...” Aster mumbled, her voice dropping to inaudible levels.
Terra wrapped her in a tight hug. “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure I’ve got something lying around the shop.”
Aster frowned, but the rest of her body visibly relaxed. “Fine, but you’d better not break your promise this time.”
A smile crept up my face as I turned to Stalwart Stone. “Me too.”
The sun was high in the cloudless sky, bathing the entirety of Canterlot in its light. It was a refreshing sight, considering that the flight over had been less relaxing than I’d promised myself; lingering thoughts of both past and future had kept my mind more than busy.
Rainbow Dash had been strangely difficult to catch over the last few days. Not that she hadn’t been around, but she’d always seemed too busy to talk. When she wasn't blasting through her weather duties, she was rushing off with hardly a word. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought she was avoiding me. More than likely, though, it was Elements business.
The irony wasn’t lost on me that extenuating circumstances were keeping me from explaining my own extenuating circumstances. Of course, there was a key difference: they were a national, Princess-sanctioned task force who faced some of the worst the world could throw at us. I was just some mare who could barely take on some angry thugs.
It wasn’t until about three days after my return that I’d finally gotten her attention. Despite Blizzard saying she’d vouch for me, I’d expected Dash to at least be annoyed. There were a lot of holes in the story, the least of which was a month’s worth of time sheets being retroactively adjusted—or so I thought. With a wink and a wave of her hoof, Rainbow Dash gleefully told me that the paperwork had been filed two weeks ago.
While I was more than a little relieved, the whole thing brought up more questions than it answered.
With all the Ponyville stuff settled, I turned my attention outward and was immediately reminded just how much I was out of touch. That pleasure trip to Canterlot quickly turned to business and I was off.
The lunchtime crowds made me skittish and I found myself instinctively avoiding any guards. It was Myrtail all over again, but weirder. I knew neither the state of affairs nor whom I should watch out for. Everything was both familiar and unfamiliar.
I picked up the pace as much as I dared. It wasn’t until I was once again entrenched among the gaudy vinyl of The Record Club that I finally allowed myself to relax. Taking a moment to collect my thoughts, I leaned back in my booth. The old seat’s backing was a bit more comfortable than I remembered.
As Lockbox approached the booth behind me, he paused for just a second. Even with his eyes under all that forelock, I felt them flit over to me.
“I heard a hunting party cornered a little bird.”
“Their trap had holes.”
“I heard they still got her good.”
“Maybe. Some birds just don’t die very easily.”
Lockbox chuckled. “So it seems.”
“Have they set out again?”
“Not here. Not even near here. Not after that little ‘cabin fire’ scared them off.” His tone shifted toward the end, the faintest satisfaction tinting his voice. I briefly wondered if it was something more than just small comfort. But, no, it was unlikely he’d want to rebuild his life again. I know I wouldn’t.
“Then?”
“Fillydelphia. Another band is growing uncomfortably large.”
The Mob. There was no need to ask. Even the average Equestrian knew of their clashes. At least, the newspapers seemed more than eager to shove it in our faces. Relief flooded over me; so long as conflict was looming, I wouldn’t even be in their sights. I knew it was selfish, but I hoped it wouldn’t end too quickly.
“Anywhere else?” I asked.
“Just Trottingham. Word is they’re ramping up resources. Probably for Filly.”
I nodded. Seemed they might be expecting something of a siege. That left one more big item on my list. I took a deep breath. “Pasture?”
“Other than another failure to get a contractor? Nothing.”
There was a tinge of disappointment. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but some part of me always hoped that Ivory would see some kind of progress. On the other hoof, nothing bad had happened while I was unable to help. Still, what Blaze had told me about the mayor’s possible connection, I had to double check. “I heard the previous mayor had some dirty ties.”
“Several. As does his son. But small fries have little pull in such relationships.”
“Then their activity?”
“Nonexistent.”
“Right. Thanks.”
---
The rest of our discussion had been minor tidbits and rumours, the kind that may or may not lead to something, but was good for a mare like me to know. A month’s worth of information might have been a bit much, as I’d left Canterlot more than an hour later than I expected.
By the time I reached Ponyville, it had been embraced by the sun’s fiery red glow. I really hoped I wasn’t too late for my next stop: Stalwart Stone’s cottage. When Terra had said she’d help Aster with her gardening, I don’t think anyone expected her to come up with an entire pallet of potted plants. Well, as near a pallet as she could get, anyway; some of those leafless twigs looked like a bit of a lost cause.
She’d made me promise to come by when I got back—not that I needed much persuasion.
As I approached the house, the lighting was just about right, highlighting the majority of the landscaping work. Despite the fact that the pallet had multiples of pretty much nothing, they’d put together something relatively symmetric.
Notably, a couple would-be shrubs stood at the head of the path. Each of the two older shrubs by the door were now ringed by a rainbow of flowers; the rings then extended along the base of the cottage.
I wondered just how much of that had been thanks to Terra’s newfound knowledge. While there were many things Aster still needed to learn, this was probably the single scenario where she was more likely to be the teacher.
Speaking of which, Aster was visible from the street, hanging out near the right side of the house, where the near-empty pallet sat. However, there was no Terra hovering over her. I supposed she could have just stepped inside for a moment, but I almost found it hard to believe that she’d leave Aster out of sight for even that long.
As I got closer, Aster crouched over the remaining pots, all of which held the barren plants. She mumbled something to herself as she pressed her hoof against the worst of the plants.
I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. No sense interrupting her, especially if she was trying to concentrate.
The plant seemed to twitch, but that couldn’t be right. Aster hadn’t even moved; the light was surely playing tricks with me. Then a tiny spot of vibrant brown appeared at the base of the dry, grey plant. Slowly, creepingly, it made its way up until the plant appeared revived.
Aster shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut and as she did, a lush green bud protruded from the top of the plant.
I stopped dead, the gravel protesting beneath my forehoof.
Rearing up, Aster whirled. By the time she was facing me, the plant’s bud had, what I can only describe as, faded away. Her forehead was matted with sweat and her eyes desperately darted around.
When she met my gaze, she visibly relaxed, but she gave me this look that said, ‘You never saw me do this.’
I frowned. The obvious question had half-formed on my lips before Terra’s voice cut through the silence.
“Dusky! You made it!” She came galloping up to me, wearing the kind of wide grin I’d more expected of Aster than her. “What do you think?”
“It’s pretty. I was wondering how you were going to deal with the lack of duplicates,” I said, trying to keep my thoughts from seeping in. Terra obviously didn’t know about Aster’s little ability and I didn’t know if I should tell her just yet. The bigger question was probably what that ability even was. If my eyes weren’t deceiving me, Aster had brought that plant back to life. But I’d never seen earth pony magic do that. My mind was already formatting a pseudo-letter to the only expert I knew.
Dear Ivory, What do you know about plant necromancy?
Of course, that would require making use of one of Lockbox’s more expensive services. Such was the price of discretion, I suppose. It also wouldn’t be quick, so I made a mental note to see what I could find in the library.
“That’s what happens when you put two great minds together.” Terra giggled, pulling me back to reality.
“Well, sounds like you two had a lot of fun.” I smiled at Terra, though my eyes fell on Aster, who was just regaining her composure.
“Of course. The whole afternoon was a blast! Right, Aster?” Terra held herself tall and proud.
“Yeah, something like that,” Aster replied, smiling a wide smile that, while it started genuine, quickly expanded into a sort of forced awkwardness. After a second, she looked away from me.
“So, what’s on the agenda for the rest of the night?” I asked.
“I’m going to hang out with Aster a bit longer,” Terra glanced back at her, “but I told Mahogany I’d meet him at the Seapony. You good for that?”
“For sure. See you there.” As I turned to leave, I wondered if the library was still open.
---
As it turned out, the library was indeed closed; it also turns out that such minor things as being closed doesn’t deter Twilight from long-winded magic lectures and research. Also, also, I’m convinced that Twilight does not so much read as osmose the knowledge of any book she touches. It took me the next three days and about a half-dozen textbooks for me to fully understand what she’d been talking about.
Earth ponies, like pegasi, tend to make indirect use of their natural magic. Their mere presence in a farming workforce is said to increase output tenfold; without dedicated earth pony farmers, the industry would never be able to keep up with Equestria’s population.
Of course, that wasn’t my main concern, but I would be lost without the basics. No, it was earth ponies’ ability to directly apply their magic to plants, much like pegasi can craft weather, that interested me.
I went to the Seapony early that night, hoping to catch Terra while she was still sober. I arrived just in time too, since Terra and Merriweather were hunkered down behind a small cluster of still-full glasses. No Mahogany, though—something that was sadly becoming more and more common. Seemed that his boss decided he should make up for his sick time with increasing amounts of mandatory overtime. I really needed to find a way to make it up to him.
“Oh, Dusky! Hi! I knew you’d be coming~!” Merriweather waved as she shouted over the table.
I raised an eyebrow. “Because I told you last night I’d be here?”
“Yes, but you didn’t say what time.” Merriweather grinned widely as a glass of cider slid out from the clump of alcohol. “Tada! Ice cold cider~!”
A quick taste test proved her statement to be true. “Huh, so it is. How many ciders did you have to order to pull this off?”
“One, thanks to my future-telling powers~!” Merriweather placed her forehooves to the side of her head.
“Uh, riiiiight.”
“Toldja she wouldn’t be fooled by it.” Terra beamed.
“Shhhhh! Never reveal a magician’s trick.”
Terra stuck out her tongue. “You just don’t want to pay up.”
“That bored, huh.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “What was the bet?”
“Ten bits that she couldn’t fool you without spells.”
I tilted my head. “And how many have you had? I mean, I hope you didn’t waste good cider.”
Terra waved her hoof. “Oh, just two. How do you even get a buzz off this stuff, anyway?”
“Practice.” It was my turn to stick out my tongue. “Anyway, you sober enough for a quick chat?”
Both Merriweather’s and Terra’s eyes flitted toward the back rooms.
“Oh, no…” Terra began.
“Did something happen?” Merriweather’s face was suddenly serious. “I can go get Sis’.”
“No, no.” I shook my head. “Nothing that serious. I just need to you to actually remember what we talked about in the morning.”
“Phew.” Relief washed across Terra’s face. “What is it?”
“It’s about Aster. The other day, when you two were gardening, did she do anything strange to the dying plants?”
“No. She didn’t even touch them. Why?”
I spoke carefully,“Well, while you’d stepped away, I happened to see her fiddling with one. She was concentrating hard and then the plant appeared to return to health.”
“What?! Like, bringing it back to life?” Terra planted her hooves on the table and leaned forward, nearly knocking several of the glasses over.
“No.” I shook my head for emphasis. “To an outside observer, it may look like that at first, which is part of why I wanted to talk to you about this. When I thought about it a little harder, I realized that it wasn’t necessarily dead. A plant’s roots will often survive, even when the rest of it has withered.”
“What? So does this mean she has some kind of super special power?” This time, Terra did knock over a glass, but it hardly tipped more than an inch before Merriweather’s aura righted it.
“All earth ponies can do it,” Merriweather said as she casually leaned back. “In fact, they do a minor version of it when they farm. Any one of them can also infuse a plant with their magic to make it do things. It’s just not a very good trade-off, so most ponies don’t do it.”
When we both looked at her, she smirked. “What? A Countess has to know things about her ponies~.”
I mirrored her smirk. “Fair enough. Anyway, it is a little more complicated than that. Ponies with plant cutie marks have a much easier time of it. That isn’t to say it isn’t tiring, but if what I read is right, an adult should be able to handle a small plant or two before it starts to get taxing.”
“But Aster doesn’t have a cutie mark, even though she might as well have a gardening mark,” Terra said, her voice almost tangibly trailing off into thought.
“Which is why I think a foal like her even got away with doing it without collapsing.”
“So that’s why she was so tired. Thanks, Dusky. I’ll have to have a firm discussion with her.” Terra’s eyes lit up with motherly fervour.
The Seapony was quite busy tonight, to no one’s surprise. Whenever they had a discount appetizer night, things got a little crowded. However, our table was looking a little barer. Terra was still with Aster, bonding over some cottage repairs. And Mahogany was, of course, working late again. I wondered if I could convince him to go to the spa. With the kind of hours he was stuck with, I wagered he’d get more than a little relief.
This left us with Night, who was doing about as well as he usually does in crowds; Star, who was alternating between her codex and observing the mass consumption of hay fries; and Merriweather. Interestingly, she’d only had about half the alcohol she’d normally have by this point in the night.
I wanted to ask Night about his trip to Whinnyapolis, but I felt like the conversation would be a bit too sensitive for a public place like the bar. Sure, Mint Creme had had her entire reunion with Night out on a hotel patio, but we were lucky enough to have found a quiet little corner. The way things were at the Seapony, the only place we might be able to find that would be one of the back rooms and I was very hesitant to use them. At best, it would elicit lewd gestures from Merriweather, at worst, I’d freak everyone out again. I had no reason to really press the topic, anyway; there’d be plenty of other opportunities to chat later.
So I leaned over a bit and half-shouted, “How’s the tea tonight?”
Night’s eyes snapped into focus as his mind tumbled off of whatever train of thought it had been on. “Oh, i-it’s nice.”
“Well, that’s good. Maybe I’ll have to try it sometime.” I placed a hoof on his withers and he blushed.
The main door burst open. ‘Bubbling’ was about the only way I could describe Terra as she strode over to us. There were clearly words on the tip of her tongue, but none that were coming out, even as she plopped down beside me. She stared expectantly.
I held her gaze for a few seconds, purposefully delaying the question to see if she’d crack first. “I take it you and Aster had a fun time?”
In the interim, Merriweather had already slid two full whiskies across the table to Terra.
“We have a date on Saturday!” she blurted out.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I guess that means you also didn’t get all the repairs done?”
“No, no, we got that done just fine.” Terra waved her hoof. “Saturday is our dinner date!”
“‘Our’, meaning yours and Stalwart Stone’s?” I couldn’t help but smirk.
“And Aster's.”
“What?” I blinked a couple times, waiting for her to declare that she was joking. There would be no such confession. “Terra. I thought you said you have this romance thing down pat.”
“I do!” She grinned widely.
“Says the mare who wants to bring a foal on a dinner date. Look, I can foalsit for you if you want. Just do me a favour and have a proper date, okay?”
“Yeah! How would you even have sexy times with a foal around, anyway?” Merriweather somehow asked with a completely straight face.
Night turned bright red.
“Sister. Such speech is not becoming of—”
“Oh, come on. Lighten up, Sis’!” Merriweather prodded at Star’s side. “Besides, how’s beating around the bush supposed to be more mature? We’re not blushing schoolfillies anymore.”
Star pushed Merriweather’s hoof away. “While that is true, she did not broach the subject and prying into such matters is inappropriate.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Merriweather paused mid-hoof-wave and giggled. “I’m sorry I implied things about the usage of your lady bits, Terra.”
Star placed a hoof to her forehead. Terra burst out into laughter and I think at some point, Night had disappeared under the table. I considered another reassuring hug, but there was probably a fifty-fifty chance that the contact would just make things worse for him.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, just tell me when and I’ll be there.”
“Okay, okay.” Terra took a swig of whiskey without even breaking pace. “Our reservation is for six, so… five-thirty?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Right at that moment, the wall clock caught my eye. Seemed our little interlude had gone on longer than I’d thought. “Speaking of time, I’ve got a shift in the morning, so I’d better duck out.”
“Aw, but we’re just getting started,” Terra pouted around her glass.
“Yeah! I haven’t even bought you a second cider yet!” Merriweather chimed in.
I shook my head. “Sorry. I really would like to hang out more, but fatigue and storm clouds don’t mesh well together; that’s how someone gets hit by lightning.”
“Oh, yeah. That’d be bad.” Terra frowned.
“V-very bad,” Night added. He was standing at full height again. “T-take care of yourself, Dusky.”
“You too.” I leaned in for a quick nuzzle. “See you later, everyone!”
---
The evening was cooler than usual, the slightest of chills touching my back. The streets were largely empty, as it was too early for the vast majority of the Ponyville night crowd to be headed home, and too late for most potential newcomers to bother.
So I was left to my thoughts, which turned to the challenge ahead of me: coming up with activities to keep Aster in check for an entire night.
The road crunched beneath my hooves, the fine grit giving way in stages. It was a good thing we had that storm scheduled—otherwise, the next stiff Everfree breeze might have run off with the whole road.
A loud groan stopped me in my tracks. My ears twitched as my eyes scanned the sides of the road. I was still in the commercial district, which really left little area to search. And yet, I couldn’t spot anything.
A second groan—louder this time—pulled my head to my right. The alley was wide, letting in some of the light from the nearby businesses, though not enough to see more than a couple silhouettes. The nearest appeared to be pony-shaped and lying on the ground. The other was larger and boxy, perhaps a cart or a low stack of crates.
Blood rushed through my veins and my senses heightened. It could just be someone too drunk to stand or something equally unruly that I wouldn’t want to approach. But it could also be someone who was genuinely hurt, so I couldn’t just turn away without checking.
I crept forward, resisting the urge to call out. Initial assessment would be easier if my presence was unknown, especially since I needed to get quite close. The moon was rather weak that night and it wasn’t until I was barely five feet away that I could make out the stallion’s short, grey mane and reddish-brown coat. Behind him was indeed a cart, overturned in such a way that I almost couldn’t make out the yellow ‘Equestrian Parcel Service’ lettering on the side.
My blood ran cold.
“Mahogany?!” I called out. No response.
At first I was angry. He should know better than to booze up before a delivery. Any pegasus knew that flying was already difficult when intoxicated; add an unwieldy cart full of heavy parcels and a crash was almost inevitable.
But when I got really close—close enough to see his face, to see the tape on his lips and the ropes around his legs—that’s when I wished a few too many drinks were all I had to worry about.
I had my blade on my wing as quickly as I could, while each sound, each shadow, sent my mind into a frenzy. It has to be the Cartel. No random mugger would do this. But Lockbox said...
“Nothing gets past you, hmm?” The voice, which was distorted to sound like both a young and old stallion, was smug. Despite the distortion, or rather, because of it, I recognized it almost instantly. There was no doubt anymore.
A twisted visage stepped from the shadows, his coat a smooth blue-grey conflicting with a wrinkly green-yellow. A slicked black mane cut through fading grey. His cutie mark was a stylized hand-held mirror—the kind preferred by Griffons, yet also a brown shepherd’s cane.
“Smokey Mirror.” The words, ones I hadn’t spoken in years, escaped my lips.
“Oh, so you do remember me, though I suppose anyone privy to my true form could never forget such beauty.” He grinned wickedly.
“Back off.” Through shaking limbs, I drew myself as tall as I could and leveled my wingblade at him. Instinctively, I shifted, placing myself squarely between he and Mahogany.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Contract and all that, you know. Nothing personal, of course.” Dim grey light washed over his horn and two metal discs, each about the size of a hoof, hovered above his head. Their edges glinted in the moonlight. “But you know, if you were to cooperate, I could promise that no harm would come to your friend.”
I gritted my teeth. Were this a true one-on-one, perhaps I could win. It wouldn’t be easy, but at least his illusions were useless against me. But Smokey Mirror wasn’t the kind of pony to start a fair fight. The real question was: how many goons did he have in hiding? If it was low enough, perhaps I could run and carry Mahogany to safety. Both my mind and body knew that was a complete lie, but it didn’t matter. I needed something, anyway, to get me through this.
“And if I don’t?”
Smokey Mirror’s smile dropped into a hard frown. “Well, then I’m afraid your friend is going to have a little... fatal accident. As for you, you’ll just have to arrive a little roughed up.”
Arrive a little roughed up? The words lingered, even as I watched six large stallions, three of which were earth ponies and three of which were pegasi, step out of the surrounding shadows. Their muscles were highly visible, even in such poor lighting. They also wore Guard helmets, but now that I knew about the magic, they appeared much like Smoke Mirror—blurred images of Guards overlapping their natural form.
There was no way I’d get away on my own, never mind with Mahogany on my back. But those words, they gave me a strange sense of hope. The Cartel clearly wanted me alive. If I could only ensure that Mahogany lived, then perhaps I could find a way to escape captivity. It was an absurdly high-risk gambit, but I couldn’t see anything else I could do. Which left me with the obvious question.
“How do I know you haven’t already killed him?”
“Mmmmph!” Mahogany’s muffled cry drew my eyes down to him. Fear was written on his face as he squirmed. It wasn’t survival instinct, though; it was the same look as Silent Vigil, telling me, ‘Don’t do it. Get out of here!’
Every fiber of my body agreed, wanted to resist. But I had no choice. Even if they’d been some of the worst fighters in Equestria, seven against one is just impossible odds for someone of my caliber. No, enough people had already died for me. I could not, would not, allow Mahogany to be added to that number. I had to save him. And then maybe, just maybe, they’d get complacent.
Smokey Mirror tapped his hoof on the ground. “There’s your answer. Now then, how about mine?”
“You promise you’ll leave him unharmed?”
“Yes, yes. I’ve no quarrel with him.” He waved his hoof.
“Fine. Then I surrender,” I said, just barely masking the tremble in my voice.
“Mmmmph! MMMMMMMMMMMPH!” Mahogany flopped up and down.
As I looked back toward my wing, I caught his eye. “I’m sorry.”
I whispered the magic word and my blade departed. It hit the ground about the same time as my heart. There were a thousand ways this could end and maybe a dozen that could do so in my favour.
Nevertheless, I stepped forward, into the ring of thugs.
First came the bag, rustling loudly as it engulfed my head. My nostrils strained within the stifling confines, the struggle only getting worse as I felt the satchel tighten. As the light faded to the dimmest of leaks, what I’d done fully set in.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
Instinct told me to thrash and buck, to flail until my opponents lay sprawled upon the ground—or I collapsed from exhaustion. My heart pounded and my hooves itched with every second that I didn’t. Thankfully, my lungs were more obedient, allowing me to concentrate on not doing anything stupid. It wasn’t worth wasting the energy—and Celestia knew I’d need all of it if I wanted to get out of this. Hair brushed against my belly as I was placed onto one of the thugs’ backs with careful precision.
I expected them to move as soon as they had me, but my carrier remained still. Smokey Mirror’s mock whisper, though muffled, cut through the thick sack walls. “Don’t look so glum. I’m not going to kill you. But not because of her. No, I want you to relay a message. Tell your friends that you are helpless before the Cartel, that this is what happens when you cross us.”
---
The journey was long and I spent the entirety of it in the back of an enclosed cart. The walls were thick, which, in conjunction with the bag, made it difficult to make out any sounds. Best I could tell, there were no city sounds, so they were likely taking a secretive route along the countryside. Of the possible destinations, the two closest major hubs were Manehattan and Fillydelphia. The former was unquestionably Mob territory, so they’d have to be insane to go there. And while the latter was set to be a war zone, that also meant that unless they wanted to go further out to Trottingham, this was their only choice. These kind of lengths meant that their leader very likely wanted to see her vendetta through to the end, face-to-face. To take me somewhere smaller would likely be a mistake on multiple levels.
Occasionally, we would stop dead, usually for about an hour at a time. That was when they would come back to give me rations and water while three of the stallions watched over me. I ate slowly, trying to get more details while my ears were free of the bag, but I got little more than random wildlife. There were also no windows, so there wasn’t much else I could do.
My mind turned to thoughts that had fallen behind the wall of adrenaline. How did this happen? Why was Lockbox wrong? Had he been fed false information? Or worse?
I shook the thought away. Lockbox had less than no reason to sell me out. While it was generally best to regard people in that line of work with suspicion, Lockbox was the definition of the exception I could trust.
More than anything, I think I was more angry with myself; the rumour mill is a fickle beast that hardly ever presents the whole picture and sometimes, fixates on the wrong part. I should have known better than to let my guard down. Then maybe there was something I could have done. There had to have been something I could have done—because the alternative was that the universe had conspired against me.
When we finally arrived, I was escorted, still bagged, through a series of halls, then up several flights of stairs. I heard the distinctive creak of iron gates once, then twice. They commanded me to stop and the bag was pulled away, leaving me blinded by white light. It wasn’t until long after the gate shut behind me that I’d regained my sight.
The instigator of my blindness—a wide, but short window that I wagered even a bunny wouldn’t be able to squeeze through—sat high upon the wall. The walls, with the exception of the one behind me, were the natural grey of cement, as was the floor. Several chunks were randomly missing from each surface, which were probably responsible for all the grit on the floor. The wall behind me was not cement, but entirely bars, with a heavy gate worked into its left side. If the guards were paying any level of attention, any sort of skullduggery was going to be very hard.
There were scant few furnishings in the cell: a dingy toilet and sink set, as well as a cot that was carelessly tossed atop a frame of unpainted two-by-fours.
I felt my rump hit the cold floor. It was all I could do to keep myself together. Thoughts of my friends flooded over me. They’d be worried. I wondered if I’d ever see them again. I had to. I couldn’t let them down. I’d find a way. I just didn’t know how yet.
Not long after I arrived, the jangling of chains caught my ear. It was a rhythmic sound, growing louder as it approached from the left side of the corridor. Two guards came into view, then a white-coated stallion. He was an earth pony, all muscle and about three times my size. If it wasn’t for the heavy, chained manacles hanging around each of his hooves, I might have thought he was in charge. He plodded along as though he’d walked this hall a thousand times. His eyes flitted my way, locking on me for just a moment; they darted forward again when something prodded up against his bottle-adorned flank. As he moved forward, two more guards came into view, one of whom held a long, wooden rod between his teeth.
There was a loud clank as the door of the cell beside mine opened. The jangling continued for a few more steps, then stopped. Once the door was shut, the softer tapping of bare hooves echoed down the hallway as the guards departed.
About ten seconds later, the stallion spoke, a sort of mundane curiosity in his voice, “So you’re the special one.”
I raised an eyebrow, even though there was no way he could see me. “Special one?”
His laugh was short and pointed. “Don’t play dumb. You’re the one the boss has been getting all excited over.”
“Boss? You work for them?”
“Not because I want to.”
“Meaning?”
“Y’don’t say ‘no’ when they’ve got a knife to your throat.”
“Uh, okay?” It wasn’t that I didn’t think such a thing could happen, but I hardly had any reason to trust anything he said.
“I’m serious, girl.” There was a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “Those of us in here, we’re trophies—conquests forced to work for them until we wither away.”
His words hit me straight in the chest; the thought of wasting away here was not one I wanted to entertain. Still, I managed to keep my voice level. “That sounds like a waste of time and money.”
“Hah, I bet you don’t believe that,” he said. Of course, I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to let him know anything.
“So, what? We sit here forever so your boss can come in and gloat like some kind of comic book villain?”
“That’s part of it. They make you do things for them.”
“Things.”
“Yeah. You wanna know how long I’ve been in here, doing whatever they want?”
No, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me anyway. I didn’t say anything, which he took to mean ‘yes’.
“Five years. All because my marefriend worked for them.”
“Worked?” I winced. One does not simply quit the Cartel like a job.
“Yeah. Until she bit it.” He laughed bitterly. “I always told her it was going to be the death of her one day. I asked her to stop before it was too late. She just laughed and told me she was too good for that. Of course, ‘cause I doubted her, they all suspected me when it happened.”
“That’s too bad.” I tried to sound sympathetic, but their choice of affiliation made that more than a little difficult. The thought did occur to me that he was telling the truth, that like Mahogany, he was the victim of collateral damage.
“Isn’t it?” His reply came with a tone that almost sounded like he’d expected mine. I supposed that it wouldn’t have been hard to guess, but in my gut, something about it just didn’t quite sit right.
“Yeah. It’s always a shame when someone dies.” Though some deaths are less surprising.
There was a long pause. I guessed he must have been gauging my sincerity. Finally, he let out a sigh. “Well, reckon that’s enough for now. Gonna get some shuteye before they call me again.”
“You just got here.” I needed to stop giving the wall weird looks.
“So? When they’ve got labour that needs doing, they don’t care to wait,” he said, more matter-of-factly than anything else.
“Huh. Well, I won’t keep you up, then.”
“Wait.”
“What?”
“What’s your name? Mine’s Diligent Duster,” he stated with a proudness that had me picture him just sitting there grinning.
“Duster?” I’m not sure why, but I’d expected his name to match his cutie mark more closely—despite my own having absolutely nothing to do with each other.
“What can I say? I like cleanin’. Don’t get to do much of that, unless hauling stuff out of the pit counts.” It required more than a bit of imagination, but perhaps that bottle was supposed to represent a cleaning solution.
I pondered his words a moment. If his lips were this loose all the time, I could definitely see why the Cartel might have thought he had something to do with his marefriend’s downfall. Perhaps I could use that to my advantage. In any case, the opportunity was at least worth one of my old aliases.
“Indigo. Indigo Strands.”
“I’ll see you around, Indigo.”
---
Sure enough, a couple hours later, Diligent Duster’s little entourage returned, banging loudly on the bars of his cell. We exchanged glances as he passed by. It could have just been me, but I thought his gait was just a little faster this time around.
I spent some time pacing, stretching, all while contemplating what information I could try to get out of Diligent Duster next. One thing was definitely the guards. Since I'd arrived, not a one had even so much as checked up on me. They were either very clever or lazy about their surveillance; whichever it was would greatly influence my plans.
The trend of non-presence kept up until a pair of Cartel arrived with a tray. They slipped it through the bars, then left without a word.
There was a strange incongruity between my cell and the meal. I’d expected the driest, most brittle of hay—the kind that barely qualifies as food. But this was a plate of fresh greens. At first, I was suspicious, the growling in my stomach and the reasoning that I needed my strength to escape being the only reasons I even touched it.
However, once a quartet of my muscly kidnappers replaced my ‘bed’ with a comparatively cushy single size, I began to see a pattern—a grim, almost humourous, logic: whatever Summer Leaf had planned, she wanted me to be in good health. So much for withering away.
Of course, this meant that I was on an unknown time limit. With no eyes on me, I decided it might be a good time to check for weaknesses in the cell. I’m no mason, but anyone can take advantage of enough neglect. After three passes, all I could say was that despite looking pretty ratty, the place was disappointingly sturdy.
There was enough space to train, but unless I could somehow become strong enough to bend bars, that wouldn’t do me any good. I considered waiting until another situation like the bed popped up; suddenly, bending bars sounded easy compared to winning a four-on-one against stallions twice my size.
Forcing the lock would probably have been my best option, if I’d actually had a tool to attempt it with. Of course, with only rudimentary knowledge, simply wrecking the lock was a very real possibility.
Once again, I was left waiting.
When I noticed I’d started pacing, I diverted the energy into training. I needed to not be so high strung, so I could avoid blowing what might be my only opportunity; extra readiness was a welcome bonus, though. I kept to the more subdued routines so that I could hear anyone coming.
An hour passed and I began to tire. Making use of the bed felt more than a little awkward, but better safe than sorry. I kept an ear turned toward the hall, but I caught nothing before I dozed off.
---
Rhythmic tapping roused me from my slumber. Yet, before I could ease my eyes open, a loud clang had me practically jumping out of bed. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was, to push the overwhelming panic away. A bit of sweat gathered on my forehead.
By the time I was able to fully calm myself, the Cartel guards were already leaving. Silence hung in the air for a minute, although I swore I could still hear that clang echoing down the hall.
“Hey. You’re not really asleep yet, are you?” Diligent Duster’s voice drifted over.
“No.”
“Thought so.”
“Do you need something?”
“Just a chat. Been a long time since somepony talked with me instead of at me.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about his forwardness, but if nothing else, this was probably the best time for me to get some sort of lead. “I’m guessing you had something in mind.”
“Before the end, I… I’d like somepony to hear her story. I know nopony really cares about another dead hitmare, but I’d like to pretend for a bit.”
There was little question as to how she died now. The more interesting question was how someone this chatty and unconventionally honest ended up mixed up with someone like her. Then again, all my friends had found a weirdness magnet like myself. And, like Diligent Duster, Mahogany had paid the price.
“Okay, I’ll listen.”
“Her name was Amber Lane. She was a gentle soul.”
“What?” There were at least a hundred other things I’d expected him to say first.
“I’m serious. How many foals grow up thinking, ‘I want to be a hitmare when I’m older’?”
“Point taken.”
“I mean, sure she was opinionated and emotional, but it was because she cared, y’know?” He took a deep breath. “Maybe a bit too much. She only took the job because they were poor, starving.”
“‘They’ being her family?”
“Yeah. The first job got her attention and a second. Before she knew it, years had passed. Her family was no longer starving, but she was in a whole mess of trouble and besides that, ‘hitmare’ doesn’t really work as a resume.”
“Yet you asked her to quit?” Of course, on principle, I’d have thought she should have quit. In practicality, it would probably only make a bad situation worse.
“Yeah! She had me to support her. Sure, it’d ruffle a few feathers, but I… I thought she could be the exception, y’know? Everytime she told me she was the best, I knew. I could see it in her eyes. Hitmares don’t live too long and their lives don’t end quietly. Least if she was out, she was out. Maybe they’d come get her, but it was better than knowing she was always one fight away from biting it.”
“And the Cartel blames you?”
“Sick, isn’t it? Send her off to die all those times, then when it finally gets her, they think I set her up. I loved her more than they could possibly imagine. If we could trade places, I would, in a heartbeat.”
A thought stirred in the back of my mind, one of Night.
Diligent Duster let out a bitter laugh. “To think this all started with a chance meeting at the derby.”
“It doesn’t take much for simple to become complicated.”
“Hah. You’re telling me.” This time there was no hint of humour in his voice.
The whole thing got me thinking about my first encounter with the Cartel. A mistake, made in my youth, that had followed me around for so long. What made it worse was that, unlike Amber Lane, I had a choice. I didn’t have to try to be a hero. I didn’t have a starving family to feed. Yet, how many times had I had to fight? To kill? Was I destined, as I walked a disturbingly parallel path, to meet the same fate as her? My gut told me that, should Summer Leaf have her way, the answer would be, ‘Yes.’
“So how about you?” Diligent Duster’s voice snapped me back to reality. “What’s your deal?”
As I gave my words careful consideration, I had to wonder if he’d told me all that to get me to open up. It was a difficult decision, since if I were to clam up, he probably wouldn’t be as willing to give information. But I’d already given him leeway and wasn’t comfortable saying anything else unless I could be certain I’d learn something useful.
“Look, no offense, but I just met you and I don’t like to talk about it as it is.”
I tried to get some rest myself, so that I could align Diligent Duster’s and my waking hours. I still didn’t trust him, but it’s not like there was anyone else I could get information out of. If those cursed doors were alive, I’d say that they were contributing to the cause in the most cheeky way possible—every one of Diligent Duster’s arrivals and departures left me startled and awake.
This happened at least three more times over the next twelve or so hours. Each time he returned, he was slower, more ragged and went to sleep without a word. By the final time, his hooves were dragging and his back sagged. He didn’t even look at me.
I thought back to what he’d said yesterday, that before the end, he wanted to talk about his dead lover. Given the state of his body, I had to assume he knew he’d be doing something more dangerous. Perhaps he didn’t expect to come back. One generally doesn’t call something ‘the pit’ because it’s nice.
After about an hour of lying alone with my thoughts, Diligent Duster’s voice cut through the silence. “They do it on purpose, y’know.”
“What?”
“They want us to know they’re coming. To feel that dread. That’s why this place is so empty. They sit in their little guard post, gambling. I used to laugh at it. How could it bother anyone? Then they put me in here.” His words sped up as he continued and I instinctively pulled away from the wall. He was definitely some level of unhinged, but a nagging feeling told me that wasn’t the whole story.
Regardless, if Diligent Duster’s condition was the result of leaving someone to rot, I hated to imagine what was in store for me. I had to move quickly, to press him for more details. “Really? So they just hang out at the end of the hall all day?”
“Pretty much.”
“Sounds lazy.”
“Doesn’t matter if they are. This place is huge and full of Cartel. They could leave our doors wide open and we’d still be screwed.”
I frowned. “It’s really that big?”
“Yeah. Place is a paper distribution plant. Lots of equipment and ponies so it looks legit.”
“And they’re all loyal?”
“Wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”
I wasn’t so sure about that one. Full-fledged Cartel agents being used as decoys like that would just tie up all their good resources. It would be a gamble, but if I could get out, perhaps I could mingle with the average workers as they left for the day. Regardless, Diligent Duster didn’t need to know.
“So this whole thing’s a front?”
“Yep.”
“And… they felt a need to cram a conspicuous prison into it?”
“Eh, guess so. Not like the Guard’s gonna be wandering around up here, anyway. Boss has got an understanding with them, if you know what I mean.”
“I see.” I could already picture Blaze’s scowl. Then the details caught up to me. Up? There were two sets of stairs, so assuming no basements, that puts me on the third floor at worst. If I go down, anyway.
“So we’re in some kind of forsaken prison tower.” I tried to play up the dramaticness of the impromptu title, but it was hard not to overdo it.
Diligent Duster let out a bitter laugh. “Would be a good way to describe it. If we weren’t on the third floor…”
Bingo. I smiled inwardly.
“... and the thing didn’t go up at least another four.”
The wind immediately left my sails. Seemed the roof would be no less questionable than the ground floor.
He spoke again. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”
“No. How’d you know?”
“There aren’t many plants around here and they’re pretty obvious on the skyline. You’d know ‘em if you lived here.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” There was no point in insisting otherwise.
“So where are you from?” His question was something I saw coming a mile away and this time, I was prepared.
“Nowhere.”
The silence stretched on for what felt like a minute. “What do you mean? You gotta have a home.”
“I’m a drifter. Home goes where I go.”
He tapped the floor a few times. “Is it because of them?”
“Nah, I’m just restless. But even if I wasn’t, they certainly wouldn’t encourage me to settle down.”
Another chuckle echoed down the hall, though it quickly turned into a hacking cough.
“You okay over there?” I tried, in vain, to peer around the wall.
“Yeah, yeah. Day’s just catching up with me.”
“What does a paper plant—even a fake one—need with a pit, anyway?”
“They’re building some kind of big, voodoo room or something.”
I blinked. “I… what?”
“Hell if I know. I don’t ask questions unless I wanna get whipped. I just know they’re doing some kind of unicorn mumbo jumbo to the bricks I bring in.”
“Magic?”
“Yeah! That!”
“Right.” That nagging part of my mind pushed long-forgotten research back to the front of my mind. It was ancient magic, the kind referenced and highly exaggerated by Daring Do. None of it could really destroy the world or enslave everyone in Equestria, but still. I tried to laugh it off, joking, “Hopefully that don’t use it to summon a demon or anything.”
There was another long silence and I started to feel bad. When he spoke again, there was a hint of fear, leaking out from beneath the fatigue. “Is… is that a thing they can do?”
“No, no. Sorry, that was just a bad joke I was making about a novel I read.”
“You sure it’s not telling the truth?”
“Well, no,” I replied. Nothing I had found even came close to doing what the novel described, and yet, I wasn’t exactly a magic expert. “But it was a fantasy novel. Chances are it’s all made up.”
Diligent Duster let out a sigh. “If you say so.”
By now, I’d worked myself up too much to stop thinking. I didn’t know much about the magicks—none of the techniques to actually cast the spells were ever in the books and probably with good reason. At least I hoped they were all locked away in Canterlot’s secure archive; the listed effects may not have been fiction-level of gruesome, but I wasn’t too keen on anyone having the ability to drain me of my magic or sacrifice my life force to power a magical device.
As I came to recall just how many of these forbidden spells vaguely made mention of a live or recently live victim, a chill ran down my spine. It couldn’t be coincidence: this was why Summer Leaf was keeping me healthy. I had to get out—and soon.
---
I couldn’t get much more out of Diligent Duster. At least, not without giving myself away. I still couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t just sell me out.
Of course, even what meager knowledge I had would be totally useless if I was still stuck in my cell. I searched the room again. I hadn’t missed any debris and the plumbing wasn’t going to be any more useful than last time. Even if I found a way to detach some part of the piping, it was too big to do anything with.
With a sigh, I flopped down on the bed. It let out a metallic creak. Despite the frame being clearly made of wood.
I rocked back and forth.
Creak.
My eyes flitted to the hall. Once I was certain no one was there, I slipped down onto the floor, peering around as best I could in the dim lighting. There, where one of the legs intersected the bulk of the frame, a glint of metal caught my eye. Straining my eyes, I thought I could make out two thin, steel brackets on each of the legs—thin enough that they might just do. Assuming I could get them off without any tools, of course.
I climbed back on to the bed and jiggled it with the fervour of a restless five-year-old, keeping my eyes on the hall the whole time. After a few minutes, I stopped and listened.
Not so much as a single hoofstep.
My ears twitched as I strained them further. Still nothing. Finally, I allowed myself to relax, to push that rush of blood away. Huh. Maybe Diligent Duster was telling the truth.
Returning to the floor, I prodded at each of the legs. They seemed loose, although it was entirely possible it had come in that way. But if the guards really were so lazy, odds were that I wouldn’t be strapped for time.
Guess I’d better get started… I couldn’t help but smirk at how dumb this was going to be.
---
I was too anxious to rest, which was a problem. If I was high-strung all day, there was no way I’d have any energy by the next nightfall. I tried distancing myself from the bed, meditating, pacing, even just staring up at that little strip of darkened sky. None of it could make me forget that my plan hinged on one excruciatingly obvious possible point of failure.
After a couple hours, I’d worked one of the legs within what I hoped was breaking point. I didn’t dare risk going further because breaking the bed now would most definitely alert them the next time they either brought food or escorted Diligent Duster. Not only did this mean I’d have to minimize time spent on the bed, it also meant that I had no way of knowing it would work. What if it wasn’t as close to breaking as I thought? Even if it was, what if I couldn’t get the lock open? Or the noise was enough to finally draw the attention of the guards?
Beyond that, should the plan work without a hitch, another part of it left a heavy weight on my shoulders. That is, I planned to make my escape while Diligent Duster was away. I still didn’t trust him and he was clearly unstable. There would almost certainly be more ruckus if he saw me trying to escape, whether it would be him insisting he come too or the still-very-real danger of him selling me out to simply buy his freedom. Further, while he was gone, there was a minimum window where the most frequently present guards were guaranteed not to walk in on me.
However, there was always the possibility that the next night would end up like this night, without Diligent Duster being called upon even once. If that were to happen, then, well, I’d just have to improvise.
After that came the ‘easier’ part. With more information on the lower floors, I’d decided to try to get out at ground level. After some thought, I’d realized my initial idea of mingling with the crowd was too risky. If what Diligent Duster said was true, the workers would likely give me up in a heartbeat. No, the fewer people who saw me, the better. I would sneak down and disappear into the night.
Then I’d have to sneak out of the city and fly as far as I could, preferably to one of the smaller towns. By that point, I’d likely be in dire need of supplies. It would be difficult to procure them without bits, but I’d just have to figure something out and hope the Cartel didn’t have too many people there on payroll.
With even a nominal set of supplies, I could lay low and forage in the wild, slowly working my way home. Granted, if I made it that far, I had no idea what I’d do. I’d hardly be any safer, maybe even less so. I supposed I could get lucky, that the Mob would decide to make their move and keep the Cartel’s attention.
I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. Counting on a criminal organization unknowingly saving me from another—I had truly reached the furthest depths of desperation.
As the first rays of daylight clawed their way through my tiny window, fatigue finally caught up with me. All my tension was gone, consumed by the darkness. There was the clank of an iron gate, but I hardly heard it.
I awoke with a start. Every fibre of my body insisted that something was wrong, that I needed to go right that instant. What scared me even more, and almost became its own feedback loop, was that I immediately agreed with my instinct. This, despite there being no obvious danger in my cell or the hall, as well as the fact that it clearly wasn’t time yet; even that slit of a window could tell me that the sun was still high in the sky.
Quickly standing, I forced myself to take a series of deep breaths. Once I’d reined myself in, I took a proper assessment.
My cell appeared to be completely undisturbed and no thugs suddenly appeared to take me to my doom. All was quiet. That’s when I noticed that there was one thing: the door was just barely out of alignment with the rest of the bars. In fact, I couldn’t be certain it wasn’t the lingering haze of sleep playing tricks on me until I got closer. The door was ajar just enough to make it quite clear that it wasn’t locked.
This has to be a dream. I leaned down and bit my leg. Nothing.
There was no way this was a mistake. Carelessness aside, the guards had no reason to open the door in the first place. This was either some sort of sick game or someone on the inside was working to help me. The former was more likely, especially if Diligent Duster’s remark about Summer Leaf’s excitement over my arrival was to be believed; a little mundane payback before whatever ritual she had in mind was not inconceivable.
While I wished and hoped so badly for an ally, my mind knew the time frame just didn’t fit. I couldn’t have been here for more than a couple days, and as much as I love my friends, they hardly had the clout to access any kind of spy. First, they’d have to even realize I was gone, which was information that Mahogany could provide, but which the Cartel had deliberately engineered to come after we’d disappeared. Then, Night would have to get in contact with his father, who would have to not only predict where they’d take me, but also get in contact with whatever agents the Guard may have had in place. It was just too many thousand-to-one shots put together—not the kind of odds a mare like me hedges on.
Therefore, I had to assume they’d be on the alert, watching me. But that didn’t mean it was over just yet. I could play along, pretend to fall into their trap, then, when they got complacent and sloppy, make a break for it. The whole plan was far from ideal, somehow even managing to be worse than the lockpicking gambit, but beggars can’t be choosers.
If there was one advantage, it was that I wouldn’t have to smash a bed to make my escape attempt. Yet. From what I could remember, there were two doors. If the other was locked, I’d be right back to my original plan.
Nosing my door open, I peered down the hall. On the left, about ten feet from the end of my cell, was a barred gate, much like an upsized version of my cell door. Beyond that was a sharp turn that I was reasonably sure led to the stairwell I’d been led up.
On the right, the hallway continued for a length of about five more cells before ending with a large room. The room had a couple windows, in addition to a windowed door, that looked back into the hall. Even at this distance, it was easy to tell that they were tinted. Still, that style isn’t entirely one-way and any vague hint of silhouettes would be enough for me. To my relief, none of the windows had silhouettes of any kind, never mind pony-shaped ones.
I crept up to the gate, commanding it with my gaze to be open. It wasn’t a very good listener. What was worse was just eyeballing the lock told me that the thing could not reasonably fit any definition of ‘simple’. Jamming a bed bracket in there was just going to make me even more locked in.
The only way past was going to be with the genuine key. My eyes flitted back to the guard post.
If this was payback, they were likely all waiting for me. But strangely, I wasn’t afraid. I almost felt like I could take them on—more than that, that I had to find a way to make it work. I would get through this and I would get back to my friends.
With that, I started stalking down the hall. Though, as I neared Diligent Duster’s cell, I paused. Things had changed. This was no longer me noisily smashing things to get me out of my cell and making a break for it. If I were to get the keys, he would be on the way back, it would be silent and I wouldn’t have to mess around trying to open a lock with a bracket. And if I gave him a chance, maybe we could throw the Cartel off enough to make a clean getaway.
As I padded up to his cell, ready to gesture for silence, my heart fell. He wasn’t there.
His cell was also entirely bare, similar to mine, but with the old style of ‘bed’. I didn’t know what to think. For a long-time prisoner to not have any personal effects seemed odd, but at the same time, the Cartel obviously didn’t treat him well. This could extend to even the small things. Regardless of whether or not he was gone for good, I couldn’t exactly wait around and see.
With nothing to do but press forward, I realized I still had four more cells to pass by. If there were people inside and they figured out what I was doing, there could be trouble. From what Diligent Duster had told me, it was possible that I could incite them to riot or even something more organized. But I didn’t know that, either. I hadn’t had the same time to talk to them as him, to determine both their allegiances and their disposition. For all I knew, I could end up letting out some real crazies.
This left me with a couple choices. I could march down the hall like I owned the place, such that they’d assume I was just a guard. However, the noise risked alerting the real guards of where I was, and if anyone questioned it, they might recognize my voice. My other option was to just sneak past and hoped no one noticed me. The downside there was, should I be caught, there would be no talking my way out of that.
Of course, this assumed there was even anyone there. I hadn’t heard a peep from the other cells, nor the guards doing anything in this section. This was still no guarantee that the other prisoners weren’t just quiet, but it was a strong possibility.
With an inward sigh, I settled on sneaking. Both plans carried significant risk, but the only thing that would get me caught for sure would be waiting around. My heart was practically coming out of my chest as I stepped in front of the first cell.
It was empty.
The second and third were much the same, but they only served to make me wonder if my luck would run out with the next. As I approached the fourth, I was already sweating. Once I cleared the wall, I just about jumped out of my coat: a pony was staring right at me.
A second later, I felt like an idiot and then, almost like laughing. Almost. It wasn’t a pony, but a dress form, its eyes obscured by a tilted fedora and a blanket thrown over the body. I had to squint a little to see it, but a way-too-wide smile, the kind fictional serial killers are depicted with, was drawn across its muzzle in black permanent marker. The thing was also positioned perfectly to both be within the shadows of the cell and facing anyone who might approach from my direction. Summer Leaf wasn’t just toying with me—she wanted me to know.
I glanced at the guard post and felt my hooves become as iron. Even so, I was somehow able to keep my steps quiet as I lumbered up to the wall nearest the door. Pressing my ear up against the wall, I strained to hear something, anything. During that time, my eyes drifted over to, then locked onto, the dull grey door. It was just barely—by less than an inch—ajar.
Are they lying in wait? Some part of me didn’t care, wanted to rush in and catch them by surprise. I pushed the thought aside. While it could pay off and perhaps even in a big way, it was too risky. I needed to outwit the Cartel, not barrel in like a crazed warmonger trying to brute force her way through.
I nosed at the door as lightly as I could, darting back afterward, even though I felt no resistance. In fact, the door kept moving, giving way a couple more inches before exhausting its momentum. There was no one in that tiny bit of room and, while the cement floor was covered in dirt and scuffs, there were no shadows to speak of. Now I just had to clear the other three-quarters of the room.
Craning my neck, I tried to get an eye up to the closest window without giving myself away. Being closer hardly helped with the tint, but any movement at all would be enough to tell me if my shenanigans with the door were problematic.
When there wasn’t a sound, nor a flickering of shadow, I decided that was it. Something in the back of my mind objected, but I felt I could handle whatever was before me as I burst through the door.
That table must have been scared stiff. So scared, in fact, that it was already ready to give me all of its bits. The cards were all stacked up and packed away in the middle of the table. Must be quite the shark.
I shook the dumb thought from my head as I surveyed the room. There may have been no one there, but judging by the mess, they sure had left their mark. Casually discarded sports magazines, dirty magazines under those, empty beers cans, the works. I wondered if I was looking at a guard post or some young teenager’s room. After a moment, two words came to mind: Amber Lane.
As I tried to ward off guilt for things I couldn’t fix, I searched for more useful things. Sadly, there were no keys, weapons or tools; I couldn’t even find any food. I ended up stuffing as many of the bits as I could fit between the pages of one of the magazines and tucking it under my wing.
This left me with the matter of my route. Directly across from the door I’d entered was another, nearly identical door; the only difference was that the window wasn’t tinted. Through that, I could see a short hallway, then a gate, and another door. The gate was, quite suspiciously, wide open. But it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go. With what I had to work with, that other gate might as well have been a brick wall.
So I pressed forward, as quietly as possible, past the gate. When nothing happened, I edged the door open, expecting an army to be on the other side. My heart leapt when I saw that not only was there no army, but ahead of me was another stairwell. However, as I poked my head further in, my joy came to an abrupt end: this was the lowest floor. Instead, stairs went up many flights, likely to the roof. And that was probably where they’d be waiting.
I eased the door closed as I retreated back into the hallway to consider my options. Charging up to meet them was out of the question. Which left one of the other doors. Thing is, I had no idea what was behind any of them and the stairwell itself didn’t leave me many good options for fighting or retreating if said doors proved unfavourable. However, some chance was better than no chance. The question, then, was what I hoped to accomplish. Even if I could successfully infiltrate one of the floors, wandering around aimlessly was bound to end badly.
It was almost certain to backfire on me, but at that moment, my mind was set on one thing: another stairwell. I knew the one on the other side went lower, so if I could just find entry on another floor, perhaps I could get down to ground level, with Summer Leaf none the wiser. Of course, this required the floor to not be full of Cartel, the stairwell to not be full of Cartel and the Cartel on the ground floor to not notice me. But if it worked, I would be home free.
Emboldened by a plan in hoof, I slid out into the stairwell. As luck would have it, not only was the door to the next floor unlocked, but upon nudging it open, I was greeted by a wall of crates. I allowed myself a small smile; a warehouse floor would be the perfect place for me to disappear. It was a good thing that this first option panned out, because just as I was getting ready to slip through, the crash of a door hitting a wall echoed down the stairwell.
“You idiot. How could you forget that?” a male voice growled. “Go back and get it. Now.”
Once the door had shut, he grumbled something I couldn’t make out, but given the few words I did catch, he might have been insulting his companion’s mother. Something told me that this all had to do with the Cartel’s “voodoo room”, but I reined my curiosity in—I was already up to my neck in trouble as it was.
Once I was certain no one was on my side of the crates, I eased the door shut with extra care, bracing it with the entirety of my muzzle and slowly stepping backward. As it settled into place, I didn’t even hear the click of the latch.
Satisfied that I was safe, or rather, safer, for the moment, I began to explore the maze of crates. Most of them were the strong, wooden kind, but occasionally I’d pass by sections of cardboard stacks. They were generally about three boxes tall, although some stacks went higher. I considered looting them to try to find supplies, but none of them had much for meaningful labels, which led me to believe the greater majority of it was ‘product’.
Additionally, the lighting was more than a little poor. I mean, there were lamps with that old style of pull cord every few feet, but only a token amount of them were on along the side and near the centre of the huge, rectangular room. Unless I had a very strong reason to check a specific crate, I didn’t want to touch the lights, for fear of giving myself away. Sure, the place seemed empty, but there was no telling who might be hiding in the darkness—or even just working on whatever in the sections that were lit.
In fact, I was determined to skirt around anywhere there was light. That is, until I was passing by the centre of the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted what must surely be my saddlebags, leaning up against an open crate. Other items, from knives to wallets and other bags, were strewn across the floor around it. The crate sat beside a small desk, where someone had abandoned a large platter of greens.
With great care, I circled the area, but it quickly became obvious that whoever had been working at this station was actually gone and not just sifting through something in the darkness. I glanced behind myself once more before sneaking over to my saddlebags. After giving the contents a onceover to determine it still had all my travel supplies, I slipped the bit-filled magazine in on top.
It took a bit of digging, but it wasn’t too hard to locate my scarf inside the crate of what I could only assume was old victims’ belongings. The empty sheath reminded me that my search was for naught, that my blade was still in Ponyville. I placed a hoof to my forehead.
After stuffing my scarf into my bags, I sifted through the remaining weapons, but there was nothing of real interest. The only knives I could find were larger ones with the mouth-handle and those weren’t something I was going to be able to use. Their cumbersome nature made them a liability to all but unicorns and the highly trained. And come to think of it, even if I had found a wingblade, I wouldn’t have known its magic words, anyway.
“Enjoying yourself?” came the voice of a stallion—one that, once I’d finished nearly falling face first into the crate, I recognized as Diligent Duster’s.
I whirled and there he was, standing at the edge of the light, staring straight at me.
“Hardly. What are you doing here?” My question was almost pure confusion, but the longer I watched him, the more suspicious I became. He still looked battered, but not in the same way as before. He didn’t slouch at all. In fact, he exuded an air of confidence. Facing him for the first time, I was finally treated to all the scars—and there were many. Putting it all together, I felt more like I was looking at an enforcer than forced labour.
“I could ask you the same thing.” He took a few steps forward.
I wanted to shy away, but I held my ground and his gaze. “You could, but do you really need to?”
“Hah. I guess not. Very well. I’m here to talk,” Diligent Duster said. When I didn’t give an immediate reply, he added, “Don’t worry, there’s no one else here. There won’t be for some time.”
“Oh? And how do you know that? Who are you really? One of her enforcers?”
He laughed. “Who? Summer Leaf? No. I’m not that bitch’s lackey. She can go to Tartarus for all I care.”
“Then who? They’re obviously not as concerned with keeping you as locked up as you claimed.” I squinted at him, daring not to hope. There was no way he could be a Guard, not the way he carried himself. But if he really didn’t have any love for Summer Leaf, perhaps we could make a deal.
“I’m no one,” he said. When I gave him a skeptical look, he continued. “The stallion I was died when my love did.”
“Amber Lane?” I raised an eyebrow, perhaps more than a little surprised that of all the things he probably lied to me about, the most intimidate detail was true. Then again, maybe he was still lying.
He nodded.
“So what does this have to do with me?”
“It’s about revenge.” His gaze hardened.
Things were starting to come together a little—and that potential deal with it. “Against Summer Leaf?”
“Yes and… you.” With that, the whole thing crumbled.
“What? Me?”
He looked me straight in the eye. “You killed her.”
Try as I might, the name didn’t bring anything to mind. Then again, I didn’t exactly know the name of everyone I’d fought. So I gambled. “You must have the wrong mare. I didn’t kill your marefriend.”
“Don’t lie to me, Dusky Down. I know what you did.”
A chill ran down my spine, but I kept my face straight. “I swear I’ve never heard the name.”
By this point, he wasn’t listening. “You were her last job. A wild card informant cowering behind a line of Guard. She should have been the one to come out of that alive. She was your better.”
What? That doesn’t make any— As the realization pierced through my fatigue, I felt like an idiot. Amber Lane is A.L., which can also be Autumn Leaf. Well... shit.
“I didn’t want to fight, you know.”
“Bullshit! Then why would you target the Cartel?”
“Because I didn’t. I took a thing I found on the ground and left it with the Guard. Anonymously.”
“You really expect me to believe that?”
“Regardless of what you believe, it’s the truth.”
“Enough. We’re done talking. Eat your meal so we can begin.” He motioned to the platter on the desk.
“What.”
“I’m not a monster. You’ll get your last meal before I put you down.”
I walked over to the platter, feigning compliance as I looked for a good escape route. There was no way I was winning a direct confrontation against someone his size. “What, no lobster?”
“I didn’t know you were a griffon.” He sneered. “Either way, this is better.”
If we were talking solely in expensive meals, he would be right. I hadn’t paid as much attention to the contents before, but as I scanned it with one eye, I was a bit startled to find that the entire bed of greens was Ghost Leaf. Which meant that the colourful bits garnishing it could only be one thing. I stared at both him and the food. It hurt a little.
“What’s wrong? Some ponies on the street would kill for premium Ghost Petal.” He frowned when I didn’t move, probably disappointed that his sales pitch didn’t have me scarfing it down. “You do know what it does, don’t you?”
“Yes. It’s one of the strongest parts of the plant, which defers pain and fear.” I continued to scan my surroundings, finally deciding that I preferred the passage to the right, which had less lights. No sense taking the shorter route if I couldn’t lose him. “Provided it’s prepared right.”
“It is. Can’t have the things end too early, now, can we?” The grin he gave me could slice through steel armour.
I sniffed at the dish, slipping a wing up against the platter. The thought did occur to me that if the Ghost Petal was genuine, it would give me an actual chance of being the one to come out of the fight. But only if he hadn’t taken it too—and he almost surely had. No, either way, indulging it would be a mistake.
With a quick turn, I flicked my wing, launching the meal right at his face, before darting off into the darkness. Behind me, I heard a dull clang, followed by a curse, then the platter clattering loudly across the floor.
“Get back here!” Diligent Duster bellowed, followed by the echoing crash of wood colliding with wood.
I kept running until I reached the closest wall. In fact, I was going so fast as I ripped around the corner that I almost slammed into it. Only a moment later did I realize that said wall also appeared to be a set of wide elevator doors. Without thinking, I mashed the button. I guess I hoped that Diligent Duster had taken it up and that the car was still there. No such luck.
Waiting around would be stupid, as the sound would almost assuredly tip him off. Then again, I could use that to my advantage, sneaking toward the stairs while the elevator drew him over. I didn’t get ten feet before some of the nearby crates launched forward with explosive force.
I dropped to my belly, just narrowly avoiding having my head pulverized, then rolled away hard to spare my back the same fate.
“You can’t hide from me!” Diligent Duster yelled, advancing at a slow, pointed speed that almost demanded I get up.
Obliging, I scrambled to my hooves, falling into a defensive stance as I inched my way backward. The crates didn’t break for several more feet, and the hallway they created was littered with some of Diligent Duster’s errant launches. It would be a death trap if he started throwing stuff again. Likewise, if I tried to fly, I’d be crushed in an instant. So I had to make him whiff and maybe find some way to physically slow him down, before I could make another break for it.
I darted toward him, but quickly backstepped as his forehoof lashed out. For someone who was so precise with his projectiles, his strikes were more than a little brutish. However, he made up for it by being fast, far faster than I’d given him credit for, and it took all my concentration to avoid the flurry of follow-up strikes and lunges.
One of my hind legs brushed against a crate and I almost didn’t sidestep in time. Diligent Duster’s stomp came down an instant later. The wood let out a sort of alien screeching crunch as its top buckled like paper. But as he pulled his leg away, he stumbled, and I saw my opportunity.
Bounding off the nearest crate, I lightly stepped off Diligent Duster’s back, getting just enough height to reach the top of the wall of crates. My hoofwork was probably unnecessarily daring, but since this wasn’t really the kind of maneuver I trained for, I was playing it by ear. Then again, it wasn’t often that I faced an opponent where anything short of a crippling blow was ineffective. As I touched the top, I spun, kicking off my hind legs to get just a bit more height. Then I let myself fall, bringing my forehooves down like a pair of sledges.
I missed.
By chance, he shifted his hind leg, which would have been the ideal target. If I had broken that, even if he could ignore the pain, there was a limit to how fast it could carry him. Instead, my hooves dug into his side, a blow that would have been incapacitating in any other situation. He barely flinched, audible crack be damned.
The inevitable counterattack found my face on the way up, then again on the way back down. I stumbled back, still on my hind legs, hardly realizing I was pinned against the crates before his head smashed into my chest. The crate wall crumbled behind me and I spun end over end until I was stopped by another stack of containers. I didn’t feel a thing, not even when my blurred vision cleared.
Diligent Duster stood over me and laughed. “Surprised? I knew you wouldn’t take my offer, so I had your food supplemented with ground Petal. Not the best way to administer it, but oh, well. I can just be more delicate!”
He turned and bucked, giving me just enough time to roll away. That crates that used to be behind me went flying.
As I scrambled to my hooves for the umpteenth time, I scolded myself for letting them get to me so easily. But if I was already stuck with it, perhaps I could make it to the stairs, regardless of how much he hit me. His next charge proved that that wouldn’t be so easy.
He only clipped me, but it was enough to send me crashing into another set of boxes. Diligent Duster himself careened into the crates obscuring the elevator. As they crumbled, I had a vision, one that I was certain must be the fault of the Ghost Leaf.
Standing in front of the elevator, with dumbfounded looks, were Night, Blaze, Mahogany, and a blurred mix between Noble Light and an ash-coated pony. To further my point, Diligent Duster didn’t even notice them, although they seemed to react quite realistically when he charged again.
I was almost too distracted to get out of the way. At this point, I had to wonder if he was causing as much collateral damage as possible on purpose. Regardless, I took the opportunity to push myself to my hooves and create some distance.
The almost-Noble-Light shimmered for a second before becoming actual-Noble-Light, which was really just a lighter grey pony. He leapt between Diligent Duster and I; when they collided, I started to realize that I wasn’t just seeing things.
“Riot!” Noble Light hissed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
So that’s his real name. But why does Noble Light know him?
Somehow, despite the size difference, the two seemed to be evenly matched for strength. Whenever this ‘Riot’ tried to push past, Noble Light pushed back.
“Out of the way, old fossil. You’ll get your turn.”
“Old fossil?! Riot, I am your commanding officer!”
“That’s why you’ll get your turn.”
“Have you lost your mind? What the hell are you talking about?” Noble Light’s indignance was palpable.
That’s when it hit me. The collateral really was intentional. “Autumn Leaf. He… he’s taking out everyone he thinks is responsible.”
“Thinks? THINKS?! You all threw her under the cart!”
“She was a criminal who got herself killed,” Noble replied coldly.
By now, my friends had surrounded me, defiantly brandishing weapons at Riot. Night had his hoofblade; Mahogany, a boxcutter; and Blaze held a long knife in her magic. There was so much I wanted to say, but we weren’t out of the woods yet.
“No!” Riot bellowed. “She wasn’t just a criminal! She was… she was...”
“A kind soul? Is that it?” I interjected, which got me a funny look from all my friends. “Then why would you do this in her name?”
“Because…” Riot’s face darkened. “I’m not as kind as her.”
He had barely finished speaking when he shoved Noble Light aside and lunged. From there, everything just deteriorated into a big melee. By all rights, a five-on-one should have ended instantly. But Riot, he was as a demon, sustaining more than a dozen stab wounds, all while tossing us away again and again.
As the fight continued, everyone began to slow, even Riot; Ghost Petal only did so much to mitigate sliced muscle. Although things were still quite hazy, there is one thing I remember that stuck with me. It was the grace with which Night fought. At first, I was grateful that he was keeping up. But the longer it went on, the less natural it felt. This wasn’t just a few weeks of tutelage under Starshadow at work. He moved with intent, striking at vital points like a trained killer.
At no point was this starker than the final blow. I’d struck at Riot’s foreleg one more time, leaving it even more battered than before. I could see the counterattack coming from a mile away as he raised his hoof. It was then, with the entirety of Riot’s attention on me that Night lunged in, plunging the hoofblade deep into Riot’s throat. Still, Riot wouldn’t yield, pushing forward.
Afraid that Night would be crushed beneath Riot’s corpse, I leapt behind him, bracing him with my own body. It was there, as I looked up at those sweaty, blood-covered stallions, at the murder in their eyes, that a chill slid down my spine. This was the price of fighting for passion.
Night stood over Riot’s corpse, fixing a hollow stare upon the pooling blood. I knew the feeling too well. My eyes flitted over to Blaze; I’d also seen the effect too many times. That stallion with the killer instinct was gone, now, leaving a slumped one in his place. The whole thing still worried me. While it’s true that people can find more ferocity in the heat of battle, it had all been too refined, too deliberate, for the gap to be explained by adrenaline. What’s more, he was mumbling to himself.
“Sh-shut up. Just… shut up.” The words were barely audible, but there was a certain barb to them, like he was actually arguing with someone. My blood ran cold as, for a second, I saw Twilight instead of Night. But it couldn’t be—she and her friends had destroyed the Nameless; Princess Celestia had even had a stained-glass window made about the whole thing. Of course, I couldn’t deny the possibility that there were more of… whatever it was; I thought I felt the chill creeping into my bones. The best I could come up with, to convince myself to put off questioning until we were safe, was that it might ‘just’ be stress-induced hallucinations.
“Is… is it over?” Mahogany’s voice pierced the silence. He teetered a bit and had more than his fair share of superficial wounds, but I think he was the only one who could stand up relatively straight. Besides me, anyway, and I didn’t count, since I had unwanted help. When we got back to Ponyville, I’d have to check into the clinic at some point. I had no idea how I was going to explain away the Ghost Petal in my system, though.
“Yes. Yes, he’s dead. Damn you, Riot. Damn you for all of this.” Noble Light stood more to the side, a hard look on his face. Unlike Night, it was the troubled look of a veteran, realizing that this fight had much deeper implications.
Even just knowing that this Riot guy, if that was his real name, was supposed to be a Guard agent—Noble Light’s agent, at that—the last few months became so much clearer. Ever since I’d been discovered in Fetlock, the Cartel seemed to be one step ahead of me and I could never really figure out why. I almost wanted to laugh at myself. Despite all my efforts to avoid the corruption within the Guard, I chose the one direction that would have fed information to the King of All Moles. I made a mental note to press Noble Light for more information; both my friends’ and my safety depended on knowing just how bad the damage was.
“How… how can anypony have that much blood?” Blaze asked, her voice distant and exhausted. While she had fewer visible wounds, I knew she’d also taken at least one good spill during the fight. My gaze followed hers, back to the mess that was Riot’s corpse. Even though we’d seen more than a few things together, knowing her, she was struggling to not freak out.
I allowed everyone a few more seconds, but the reality of the situation was that we were all in serious danger. Whatever composure everyone could muster would have to do: we had to get out. Trotting up beside Night, I opened my mouth, and the floor shook. I stumbled back, holding a wing up against the falling dust as a thunderous boom echoed through the entire room.
“Whoa!” Blaze looked at Noble Light. “Uh, was that it?”
“Was that what?” I asked. Of course, there was no question that it was a distraction, but given the aftermath, I was afraid of just how far they’d gone.
“That is our distraction. We need to move,” was all Noble Light said. As useless as his answer was, clarification would have to wait. For now, being more or less on the same page would have to be enough.
Night finally noticed me. “Dusky? Are… are you okay?”
I should be asking you the same. But urgency stayed my hoof. “Night Light… yeah, I… I’m fine, thank you.”
He took a few steps forward, stopping short as he became aware that he was covered in blood. “We… we should go.”
“They’re going to be panicked now, right? We can head up and strike before they know what’s coming.” Blaze stomped her hoof dramatically.
“You can’t be serious, Blaze.” I knew she wasn’t, that it was all bravado, but it had to be said, before anyone else decided it might be a good idea.
“No. We’re in no condition to deal with the numbers they have, especially not now,” Noble Light said.
“I... I just want to get you out of here, Dusky,” Night added. At this point, the lost look in his eyes had faded, replaced by fear. I leaned in, nudging at his chin. We couldn’t let it get to him, not here. He pressed his muzzle against my cheek; the motion almost mechanical, but if it helped him focus, that was good enough. “Thank Luna you're safe.”
I glanced at Noble Light. “What’s the plan?”
“Mint is already down on the stairs waiting, and when the explosives went off, she should have ensured we wouldn't have any more company. If everything went right, Merriweather and Starshadow are gone, and Mint will join us.” He pointed at the far stairwell, the one I’d been seeking all this time. “We head down, avoid any fires, hopefully avoid any guards, and try to escape in the panic. They'll have plenty more to worry about soon enough.”
Explosives?! I felt my throat dry up. There had to be something more to it than that, there just had to be. Otherwise, even if we got out, this could only escalate in a way that would never end. I took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts away. I turned back to Night. “Sounds simple enough. But first, we need to cover you up.”
“Me?” He followed my gazed down to his blood-soaked coat. “Oh… right.”
I dashed over to the nearest set of crates—or what was left of them, retrieving one of the tarps and laying it at Night’s hooves. “Wipe off your hooves on this.”
While he complied, I dug through my flight satchels. Fortunately, my cloak was still there. I threw it over Night’s back. While it wouldn’t cover the spatters on his face, they were small enough that it wasn’t worth drawing the hood.
“There. You won’t draw nearly as much attention on the way out.”
He cracked just the barest of smiles. “Thanks, Dusky.”
Noble Light trotted over to the stairs. “Alright, good. Dusky, stick close to Night. He knows where to meet up if we get separated. Mahogany, you and Blaze are in the best shape, so you'll head down first.”
Mahogany gave him a funny look. “Sure, right. I feel like a million bits.”
“No hassle. Just as long as he can keep up with me.” Blaze smiled, heading off further complaint in her own way.
“Hey, I pulled the cart that got you here. I mean, I literally carried you this far.”
Noble Light sighed. “Go now. Chat later.”
With that, Mahogany and Blaze pushed into the stairwell. Going in waves made sense, especially since, despite the distraction, people would be on alert. However, I wondered just how long we could really afford to wait. I watched closely as Noble Light mouthed his way to ten. As soon as he finished, he waved us through.
I could already smell the smoke, faint as it was, as we rushed down the stairs. My ears twitched as the distinct crackling of fire echoed up to us. I felt the hair on my back rise; there were few things I wanted less than to be cooked alive in a Cartel hideout.
Mint Creme was waiting two floors down, an unconscious unicorn at her hooves. Her eyes briefly flitted back to us, but otherwise she kept watch on the second floor proper. “It's getting hot down there, so just get down to the first floor and go straight out the side. Once you're on the street, get as far as you can before heading to the rendezvous.”
Night stopped to nod at her. “R-right. See you soon, Sis’.”
“Go!” Mint Creme shouted.
With a start, he scrambled down the stairs. The further we went, the more visible the smoke. We couldn’t see the fire, but from the sound of it, it was very near. I cringed a little. If it got out of control, it could spread to the street and nearby buildings. That put not only us in danger, but every bystander as well. I hoped they were smart enough to stay clear.
As we hit the bottom, the path split. Night turned one way, but the only thing at the end of that hall was a shut door, barely holding back thick, black plumes. I glanced behind us and immediately caught the glow of an exit sign. The door beneath was already ajar.
I prodded at Night’s side. “That way.”
As we burst into the alley, I found myself squinting, my eyes no longer used to the full light of the sun. I was just barely able to get a hoof on Night in time, before he got off the ground. We couldn’t fly here, especially not the way he looked.
“Not yet.” I motioned for him to follow as I moved toward the mouth of the alley. “Stay low, stick to the alleys. Do you know which way to go to get back to your rendezvous?”
Night spun a few times, as though he wasn’t quite sure. “It's... that way.”
“Then lead the way.”
Time seemed to grind to a halt, my senses going into overdrive. Every sound, every movement, every scent—none escaped me. My entire body was tense, like an overwound winch, just waiting to snap. As we fled the paper plant, I kept wondering when, from its dozens of windows, someone was going to spot us. Any moment now, some sort of air force would swoop down and assail us.
But once we were over a block away, ducking into another alley, I allowed myself to indulge the thought that maybe, just maybe, the distraction was enough to let us make a clean getaway. While I wouldn’t be able to fully relax until we were out of the city, this was definitely a good start. At least I wouldn’t implode under my own anxiety.
The tension faded with each successive alley, until we were too far away for anything other than active pursuit to find us. As we entered somewhere around our fourth or fifth, a sharp whistle cut through the shadows. It didn’t take long to find the source: Merriweather was barely trying to hide. She and Star were already hitched up to what looked like an EPS wagon. Blaze stood in the back, while Mahogany hovered beside her. I had to wonder if they’d actually had a plan or if the whole explosives thing was an improvisation.
“Dusky!” Merriweather flashed me a wide grin. “The only thing that could make this better was if you'd gotten to see how cool I was.”
I got the sinking feeling that she’d been the one handling the explosives. Improvisation was looking more and more likely.
Star rolled her eyes, although it wasn’t enough to dislodge her own smile. “You can tell her all about it once we're out of the city.”
“Agreed,” Noble Light said as he trotted in behind us; Mint Creme was just a few paces behind him. “Night, Dusky, get in and lay low. Mint, Mahogany, and I will be flying out while Starshadow and Merriweather pull.”
“We're not going to fly out?” Night asked.
“It's too risky this close. You and Dusky are bit too... suspicious looking.”
Night looked down at his coat. Even with my cloak, someone discerning could easily figure out what the stains were. “Ah, um... right.”
I sat on all fours, trying to keep my profile as small as possible. It was a bit difficult with three of us inside, two of whom had to more or less sprawl out.
Night sighed as he finally settled in beside me. “Soon, we'll get as far from this damned city as we can get.”
His voice had that whole bitter tone, the kind that showed the situation was getting to him again. Leaning in, I pressed up against his neck. “Thank you, Night Light. I'm sorry.”
“What? Why? Why are you sorry?”
“For worrying you. For making you come all the way out here.” I glanced up at him. “For making you... kill.”
“I... I did worry, of course I did. But, that's because I love you. As for the rest, coming out here was nothing... a-and... I hope I never have to kill again.”
I nodded, even though I knew that so long as he was with me, that was little more than wishful thinking. “I always hope the same thing. But... stuff like this just keeps happening.”
Night looked down. “I guess that just means I need to try harder, so that there won't be a next time. And when there is, I... I just want to do what I can to protect my friends.”
---
We sat in silence until we were out of the city and even some distance beyond that. Fatigue aside, I think we were all too busy keeping an eye out. Filly was still Cartel territory and we were more or less hiding in plain sight.
The meeting point was just off one of the back roads, hidden behind a thick grove of trees. We beat Mahogany, Noble Light and Mint Creme by more than a couple minutes. Such are the pains of making a discreet aerial approach.
Noble Light glanced at each of us. “Good, everypony is accounted for.”
“In that case,” I said, “we need to find a place to bathe. Preferably somewhere that doesn’t involve more flying.”
“W-we do?” Night blushed as he stared at me.
Wasting no time, Merriweather added, “Oh, my~.”
With a sigh, I shook my head. “Not the time.”
“Don’t worry,” Mint Creme grinned. “I gotcha covered. Already scouted out something nice and secluded.”
Night’s face went redder. “S-sis’?”
“Look, in Filly, we had the benefit of the confusion and the city’s oversaturation of scents. We stay like this—” I pointed a forehoof at a particularly large splotch on Night’s foreleg, “—for long and it’s going to stink. Sooner or later, it’s going to attract uncomfortable questions. Or predators. Maybe even both.”
“Oh. Um, that makes sense.” The colour faded from Night’s face, though the rest of the embarrassment remained.
“Well? What are you waiting for? It’s not like that water’s going to come to you,” Mint Creme said, motioning deeper into the trees.
After about a minute, we came to a small, oblong lake. Greenery lined each side of the water, but the area around the spot she’d chosen was especially thick. It was dense enough to act as a shield for anyone who was in the water, and a couple sentries around the remaining shore would surely be able to detect any unwanted guests.
The water proper was a bit muddy, but almost any scent other than blood would be preferable. In fact, it would probably give us more credibility as a random group of travelers. In any event, my coat was already starting to feel a bit crusty, so I wasn’t about to get picky.
Shrugging my flight satchels off, I trotted up to the very edge of the water. “We should do this as quickly as possible. Even this far out, we can’t let our guard down. Keep an eye on the tree lines.”
“Oh! Um, okay!” Night said, quickly turning away from me.
“Not you, Night. You need to bathe too.”
“R-right. You can, um, go first. You need your p-privacy.”
I sighed. Even without seeing his face, I could tell he was blushing. But I was too tired to argue the point and odds are, in the time it would take to convince him to come in with me, I could have already gotten the blood out of my own coat and had him on his way.
The water felt odd. It was cold, but in a dull sort of way, like my body didn’t really care. As I gave my coat a few minutes to soak, I wondered just how much Ghost Petal I’d ingested. If it had been successfully concealed in a few meals, it probably wasn’t a dangerous amount. Still, I both dreaded and couldn’t wait for the effects to wear off. With all the pain blunted, it was impossible to tell just how much of a beating I’d taken.
It didn’t take long to get rid of the blood. Aside from a bit of scratching here and there, it mostly just fell away. I supposed it was still relatively fresh. And if there were any lingering bits, they were probably ejected when I shook my coat out.
I decided to get some distance from the bathing spot. If Night couldn’t be in the same lake with me, I doubted he’d be any more comfortable if I stuck around.
Noble Light was sitting by the cart, staring off into the woods. At first, I thought he might have noticed something, but as I strained my eyes and ears, nothing stood out to me. As I approached, he looked my way.
“Has Night finished?” he asked.
“No, he just started.”
Noble Light nodded.
We sat in silence for a few moments, but I had too many questions bouncing around my head for it to last. “You mind if I ask you something?”
“Depends on the question.” His reply was tired. He had a contemplative slump going on that reminded me of a certain other stallion.
“It’s about that Riot guy. He seemed to know you. What was his deal?”
“White Riot.” Noble Light sighed. “He was supposed to be my pony on the inside. We worked years to get him up through the ranks. He was good. He immediately hit it off with one of their leaders.”
“Autumn Leaf.”
“Yeah. She took a shine to him for some reason, so he was our eye on the inner circle.” The lines on his face deepened, somehow making him look even more tired. “Their leaders have always been elusive. Everypony knows what they’re doing, but nopony ever steps up.”
It’s no wonder. It was all I could do to keep the quip to myself.
He continued, “We needed to know when they’d slipped up, something decisive that didn’t require outside testimony. But something went wrong.”
“He fell in love.”
“So it seems.” Noble Light closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. When he opened them again, he looked straight at me. “I’m sorry, I should have seen it coming.”
“How?” I arched a brow.
“His reports were getting sparser, vaguer. Of course, that’s not enough by itself, but the most damning thing of all, well… Do you remember, years ago, when you helped us?”
For just a second, I could smell the smoke again, see the flash of metal as it streaked toward me. “How could I forget?”
“That assault, the one where you killed Autumn Leaf; we didn’t know until it was practically upon us. He came with them. One of our agents found him lingering at the edge of the base. He claimed the Cartel was on high alert, that he was barely able to get the message out. We bought it back then, but now… I think he couldn’t make up his mind.”
“Until she died.” I looked down. “Then he chose no one.”
Noble Light nodded.
There’s a saying that the best lies are those woven with some measure of truth. The more I thought about what Noble Light had said, the more I saw it in White Riot’s Diligent Duster. When he’d said he’d been imprisoned for a long time, he wasn’t referring to our physical situation. No, his was a cell without bars. To the Cartel, he was the buffoon who came back instead of Autumn Leaf. Among his Guard peers, the mare he loved was a menace who got what she deserved. Was he really so desperate to convince someone of her worth that he came to one of his nemeses? Perhaps he was just trying to get into my head, but I couldn’t say for certain—it’s not like I knew Autumn Leaf either. Our only encounter had been when she was enraged, trying to shove a knife down my throat. It was silly, but part me wanted to believe that had her circumstances been different, maybe she could have really been whatever he saw in her. I mean, it’s not like she had a cutie mark for murder.
Despite the lack of pursuit from the Cartel, the flight back to Ponyville was painful. There was so much I wanted to say and discuss that our little bath break hadn’t allowed for. But the sky was as public a place as any given road; talking there could be a fatal mistake. So I was left to my thoughts, even as I wanted to thank all of my friends, to cry out apologies; my blunder had caused them pain as surely as though I’d done it with my own hooves. I could only imagine what Mahogany had gone through to end up in that alley. The worst part was that there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. Even with White Riot out of the picture, it was impossible to distinguish just how much of the Cartel’s zeal had been his doing. I doubted Summer Leaf had forgotten what I’d done.
I insisted on doing my fair share of flying—I wasn’t about to make my friends do all the work. When Night objected on the grounds that I’d been fighting, I pointed out that so had everyone else. We all needed to do our part, myself included. So on the next shift change, I hitched myself up beside Mint Creme.
A side benefit was that navigation took my mind off of my worries. Not that it was especially hard or confusing, but I hadn’t been to Filly in so long that I had to think to recall the routes. It also helped that Mint Creme and I were of the same mind when it came to direction.
While we were technically in wild weather territory, the skies were completely calm; the overly neat arrangement of clouds were a sure sign that a weather patrol had just been through. There was also a distinct lack of people—both in the air and on the ground—but that wasn’t too surprising. Normal travelers would have set out hours ago.
This meant we had to keep moving, as it would be easy for the Cartel to spot us. On the upside, this also meant it would be pretty obvious if someone was even giving us funny looks. Regardless, shift after shift passed without incident. The first few times, it put me even more on edge, but by the time we were halfway to Ponyville, I had to admit that we were probably safe. And so my thoughts returned.
By the time we touched down in the alley outside the Seapony, I was a big bottle of emotion. Now that we didn’t need to dedicate all of our energy to the escape, I became a whirlwind of hugs, apologies and thank yous. I still felt that it wasn’t safe to mention any specifics, but the hugs saved me from needing to make any kind of explanation. However, as I approached Mahogany, he pulled back, only half-heartedly returning the hug. I frowned a little, but couldn’t really blame him—I’d been the one to bring calamity upon him. There was definitely more I needed to say.
“Thank you again.” I looked everyone over, their features hidden beneath the falling twilight. “I owe you all so much.”
“Hey, we all know you’d have done the same for us.” Blaze grinned a grin that somehow looked both exhausted and forceful. “And don’t you deny it. I know firsthoof.”
A chaotic consensus of nods and verbal acknowledgements followed, which included Night stepping forward to give me another hug. As we parted, he looked right at me. “Um, so what now?”
I gave everyone the widest smile I could muster. “It’s been a long… however long we were out. Everyone should get some rest. You deserve it.”
“Wait, what about my awesome tale of awesomeness~?” Merriweather met my smile with a grin.
I shook my head. “I’m sure we’ll all be happy to hear it when we’re a bit fresher.”
“Oh, okay. Well, everyone hurry up and sleep! Drinks on me tomorrow night~!” She reared up, motioning broadly with both forehooves.
Star shook her head, but said nothing.
A giggle escaped my lips as I turned to Mahogany. “Before you go, could I ask you a question about the thing? I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Oh, yeah. Uh, sure thing.” Apprehension crossed his face again as he looked away. It was at that moment that I started to suspect that it wasn’t me who he was blaming. We needed this talk more than ever.
Barkeep had a room set aside the moment I approached the counter. All things considered, it probably wasn’t very hard for someone to guess what I wanted. Still, it injected more wariness into my thoughts—I needed to make sure I never became too predictable to a casual observer.
A couple minutes later, Mahogany and I were seated in one of the back rooms, a couple Buzzards and a cider between us. Mahogany was already halfway through one of the Buzzards, his eyes buried in the remaining drink.
“I’m sorry, Mahogany.”
He set his drink down and let out a somber chuckle. “You’re sorry? Why are you sorry?”
“If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have gone after you.”
“Yeah, and if I wasn’t the weak link, they wouldn’t have kidnapped you.”
“No, Mahogany, they brought too many bodies. No one could have won a fight like that. Chances are they went after the first pony they saw.”
He laughed again. “I didn’t fight.”
“Against those numbers? No one can blame you.”
Mahogany reached for his drink, but stopped, his hoof resting against it. “I wanted to. I would’ve if I’d known.”
He stared past me for what felt like forever. I watched him carefully as I spoke, making sure my voice was gentle, but firm. “Mahogany?”
“I remember this old guy and a package. It was wrapped all wrong. I had to open it to fix it. There was this dust and then I felt dizzy. Next thing I knew, you were standing over me.” He slammed back the last of the first Buzzard.
My heart sank and my legs carried me of their own accord, rounding the table and wrapping Mahogany in a tight hug. He stiffened and I felt even worse. “I’m so sorry, Mahogany. No one should have to go through such an awful experience. Please don’t blame yourself. A trap like that would have gotten anyone.”
Mahogany snorted. “They wouldn’t have got you.”
“What?”
“You’re Super Dusky.” He traced a circle in the air with his hoof. “All prepared and shit. Like that Batmare pony everyone’s talkin’ about.”
It was my turn to laugh; the taste was bitter. “This again? I’m flattered, but if I was really that good, they wouldn’t have found us. No one would have to suffer if it wasn’t for me.”
He sighed. “At least you tried.”
“So did you. Regardless of the trap, things would have eventually caught up to me. And when things get that bad, most people would just turn and run—but you didn’t. You were there for me. You’re a good friend, Mahogany. Never forget that.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” I hugged him again.
“I should go,” he said, standing and guzzling the second Buzzard.
“Get some rest.”
“I will.” Mahogany trotted toward the door, but stopped to glance over his shoulder. He stood there a good few moments. I wasn’t sure if he was going to even say anything else, but, finally, he opened his mouth. “And… thanks, Dusky.”
“Likewise, Mahogany.”
As the door closed behind him, I let out a sigh. Could have gone worse, I guess.
I needed to do something more for him, something with a bit more substance than a couple hugs. There was still the spa idea, but I still had a feeling he might be too embarrassed to go. An easy one would be more Buzzards, but I didn’t want to just default to that. I decided I should ask Night, see if he could come up with anything I missed.
I finished my own cider, maybe a bit faster than usual, and headed out. Night, Star and Merriweather were sitting at our usual table, with only a single drink in front of Merriweather. Night didn’t even have any tea.
As soon as I cleared the hallway, Merriweather turned, her foreleg a red blur as she called out, ”Dusky!”
For Star and Merriweather, this could have been any other night. I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. They were combat veterans who had likely undergone many dangerous missions. While it would be foolish to think they didn’t feel anything, I’d wager they had plenty of practice coping.
Night, on the other hoof, still looked troubled. As I sat down beside him, I noticed his bracer sitting near the middle of the table, as though he’d pushed it away.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
He smiled broadly, whatever had been bothering him forgotten for the moment. “Me? I... good. Good.”
“Alright, good.” Something about the bracer drew my eyes again. I wasn’t sure what, but it left me vaguely unsettled. “Did I miss anything while I was back there?”
“I do believe Night Flurry was just going to talk about a problem he is having,” Star answered. “Dusky, is the back room still open?”
“Yeah, should be.”
“Then I think we had best move this there.” Star stood, beckoning to us.
Night glanced at me. “Do... you mind?”
My gut told me that he was about to answer all the questions that had been building up over our escape. For that, I could push myself a bit harder. I leaned in and nuzzled at his chin. “Of course not.”
In one smooth motion, Merriweather finished her drink and turned to follow her sister. Night and I were right behind her. As we settled in around one of the back room’s tables, I was struck by how strange it was that for once, I wasn’t the one calling the meeting.
Night looked down as he turned to us. “I, uh... there's an issue.”
Star nodded, her eyes more on the bracer than Night as he placed it on the table. “This is related to the psychometric response you experienced once before? Have you encountered another vision?”
Gritting his teeth in such a way that I wasn’t sure if it was more embarrassment or pain, Night answered. “No, not exactly. It's more like, you said this bracer once belonged to Bellerophon, right? Well, he, um... still owns it.”
“Elaborate.” Star was suddenly very focused.
“Well, he, um, is kind of... in there. I didn't realize it at first, it was like overhearing a whisper, but then, when Dusky was taken…”
In there. I froze, those words echoing in my head a third and fourth time. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. All I could do was hope I was jumping to conclusions. “Night?”
“I had a dream... he offered to help me. He would show me. He would help me fight, he would help me to... t-to save you.” His entire body sagged. “I couldn't bear it. I agreed.”
Night… no, what have you done? I recalled a purple horn, lightning arcing everywhere. Empty eyes, yet so focused on me—someone had been home, but not Twilight.
I shook my head. Now was not the time. I had to focus. My whole body felt numb, but somehow the words still came out. “And what was the cost?”
“No... no cost.” Night shuffled his hooves. “Except... he's... he's in my head. He's in my head, because I thought... I thought I needed him to make me stronger.”
I saw the lightning again.
“Sh-shut up, I told you, I'm not going to lie to my friends. I'm not…” Night said to the floor, his words snapping me out of my stupor. “I didn't want this, Star.”
Star frowned deeply. “Trust me, if we had even the slightest suspicion, we would not have given the artifact to you.”
“Dang, Night, I just... dang. I had no idea.” Merriweather’s eyes fell on the bracer, locking on with an uncharacteristically solemn stare. After a few moments, her eyes fixed on Night with a look that could only be described as desperation. “Wait, he's in there now? Can he hear us? Hello, Belly! What do we have to do to make ya stop bugging our friend?”
Star tilted her head. “Sister, I am not so sure that is a wise course of action.”
“He, uh, says no.” Night’s voice was apologetic.
“Aww, come on, Belly!” Merriweather placed both forehooves around his head and shook with worrisome force. “Oooooiiii! Wake up!”
“Merriweather! Stop!” I jumped to my hooves, but Night was already pushing her away.
“Do not touch me,” he said in a voice that was his, but with the tone so clearly off as to mark it alien. I shuddered.
Fright washed over Night as he pulled his hoof back. “I… Merri… I’m sorry.”
“Err, not your fault, Night.” Merriweather took a step back and cast a worried glance at Star. “Not your fault.”
I stepped in front of Night, taking care not to make any sudden movements. Looking him right in the eye, I called out, “Night?”
“Dusky… I’m here.” He was definitely back to speaking as normal. I let out a long sigh.
Star had one eye on the bracer and the other on Night. “That is worrisome. It is certainly going to require more research. I only worry that away from Ostfriesen we will not have access to the proper documents.”
“Sis’? If this is because of me, then maybe it should be me who goes back?” Merriweather asked. I hadn’t seen her this somber since Fetlock.
“Out of the question, Merriweather. You were banished.”
“Yeah, but—”
“You were banished! You know what will happen if you go back.” Star’s voice had an edge to it that I really couldn’t blame her for. I’d only thought they’d left on a journey, but this... this made everything much more complicated. As we were, this was unlikely to go anywhere good.
I cleared my throat until I had everyone’s attention. “Either way, we need to figure this out, and bickering isn’t going to solve anything. And frankly, none of us are going to do any good without a full night’s rest.”
Star sighed. “Dusky is right. Without all the information we can gather, it would be unwise to act. The consequences could be permanent.”
“Alright, fine.” Merriweather threw up her hooves. “We'll all get some rest, and figure out what to do about Belly later.”
“In the meantime, will you be alright, Night?” Star asked.
“I… yeah. I think so, Star. I… I can manage.” Night’s smile was clearly forced, but I had to respect him for trying.
I nuzzled at his cheek, giving him what reassurance I could spare. “No more experimenting with artifacts we don't know anything about, okay?”
A nervous laugh escaped his lips. “I can honestly say, that's not a promise I thought I'd ever have to make, but, um... yeah. No more of that.”
“It's not something I ever thought I'd say either.” I couldn’t help but match his laugh. At that moment, I decided I couldn’t hold back this melting pot of emotions any longer. “In any event… Night Light, there’s something I want to give you.”
“Give me…?” He gave me a confused look. “Dusky, you don’t have to give me anything.”
“Oh, I think I do.” I grinned as I closed the distance again, this time kissing him right on the lips. He was startled a moment, but very quickly, I could tell he was into it. My heart fluttered as we held it for a few seconds, then a few seconds more, pretending that we were just another two ponies, going about our lives, with nothing to threaten them. When we pulled away, he gave me the dopiest smile.
I met his smile—and his eyes. “We were a little short on time when I really wanted to give that to you. I hope you don't mind.”
“M-mind? I... n-no! Not at all, Dusky. ...N-not at all.” His voice was that of a mouse.
I wrapped him in a tight hug, which he returned just as quickly.
When next he spoke, his voice was a bit more normal. “I'm so glad you're safe. Dusky... I... I love you, so much.”
The rest of the evening was a bit hazy. After I parted ways with Night, the toll of the previous days finally struck me full on. My body felt detached from my mind, like it was moving on its own. Not that that mattered much, anyway, as I could hardly think anymore. All I knew was that I couldn’t deal with heading back to my apartment now. While there was a very good chance that it was still uncompromised—otherwise the Cartel’s thugs would have tried to ambush me there, rather than some alleyway—I didn’t want to make any further missteps. Thankfully, there were rooms right above me, just waiting to be rented.
Night caught up to me while I was getting my key, calling out to me, even though I was only about three feet away. “I, uh... y-you know... if you want, I... I can just, um, here. I can... be here for you... tonight.”
It was a surprisingly bold move. I mean, I’d hoped he would, but once I’d left the back room, I had to assume it wasn’t in the cards. While I could have asked him directly, I preferred that he didn’t feel obligated.
I remember giggling as I replied, “I wouldn't mind having somepony to snuggle with.”
The rest is a little hazy, but I do remember getting a bit flirty. It was hard not to, with the night as charged as it was. But given that I hadn’t scared him off, Night must have felt the same.
The last thing I remembered was leaning up against Night, thinking just how soft his chest was.
---
Morning came too quickly. Not that I didn’t sleep well—just the opposite, in fact. I was so worn down that I was pretty sure I could have just laid there the rest of the day.
I eased my eyes open. While the blinds were still closed, the most persistent of yellow light slipped past; the day was easily approaching noon. Despite little experience with the Seapony’s hotel rooms, I didn’t even have to look at the whole thing to tell where everything was. And judging by the beige lamp sitting on the brown nightstand, I was pretty sure Barkeep wasn’t too concerned with being trendy, which was just as well. It’s not like the Seapony was known for its hotel rooms.
Night was already up, although it looked like he’d hardly even moved. He was staring past me, his mind likely fixed on the last few days. It didn’t take long for him to notice me and as his eyes refocused, both colour and smile crept up his face.
I smiled back. “Good morning.”
“Yeah… Good morning, Dusky,” he said and leaned forward.
I pressed up against his cheek, returning his nuzzle. There was just this fine line of extra warmth where I swore I could trace his blush. I don’t know why—maybe it was just the drugs wearing off—but something about it felt more real, as if it wasn’t until that moment that I realized I wouldn’t wake up to find myself back in that cell.
But here I was, snuggling with my special somepony, when, months ago, I would have thought it impossible. To find someone who would stick with me through all this madness, especially after surviving direct encounters with said madness, and for him to convince me to even let him that close in the first place—that had to be one-in-a-million odds. But here we were, sleeping in like some sort of normal couple.
“Did... did you sleep well?” he asked.
I grinned. “Best in weeks. You?”
“I can't think of a time I've slept better…” He smiled that same sappy smile he always does.
“Glad to hear.”
Night looked sad for a moment, but quickly returned to his smile. “The only bad part is knowing that eventually, I'll have to get out of bed…”
“Yeah. As comfy as this is, I need to think about visiting the clinic.” There was the distinct possibility my day would end there, but I really hoped that wasn’t the case. I needed to talk to Rainbow Dash. This was my second time skipping out in such a short period. Even if she was in the know as far as extenuating circumstances existing, I needed to apologize.
Concern spread over Night’s face. “I-is something wrong?”
I shook my head. “I hope not. I mean, I feel fine right now, but I was just in a serious fight and a captive of the Cartel. I should get a check-up to be safe.”
“Oh, um… I sh-should probably do that too, shouldn’t I?”
“Probably. That whole brawl was quite the ordeal for everyone. Plus, it might be good to check for side effects to the other thing.”
Night shrunk a bit. “R-right. The… other thing.”
I nudged him under his chin. “We’ll get it figured out.”
---
Skipping lunch wasn’t ideal, but I’d already put the clinic visit off long enough. In truth, I probably should have gone in the night before, but it would have been an even bigger risk than heading home. In fact, I still had some concerns. However, it had to be done, and daytime was about as safe as it was going to get.
The sun beat down on my coat, hard enough that I was already sweating—before the Seapony was even out of sight. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was the weather or the fact that my senses had been skewed the last few days. Maybe it was a bit of both.
I picked up the pace, but only a bit. Any more would only make me more conspicuous and worry Night. Of course, ten seconds later, all this care and caution became moot.
“Dusky! Flurry!” Rainbow Dash’s voice rang out. I winced. Before I could blink, a blue streak collided with the ground, sending gravel flying everywhere. The dust had hardly settled when she was already in my face.
Her eyes shot over to Night, then back to me. “Where have you two been?”
“U-um…” Night looked away.
“Things came up. Bad things,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t have to elaborate. At least, not until after the clinic. “Sorry, Rainbow Dash.”
“Right, bad things. Next time, let me know, so that I can cover for you. Or help kick some flank.” A grin spread up Rainbow Dash’s face as she winked.
I couldn’t help but laugh a little. There was just something weird about my weather patrol boss offering to help me fight criminals, even if she was a national hero. “Well, hopefully I won’t need to, but I’ll try. I can’t really guarantee it if things get really… in case they get really...”
My body suddenly felt sluggish, knees locking up as my words failed me. I opened my mouth again, but a piercing pain cut straight through me, numbing everything else in its wake. It was everywhere, as though each one of White Riot’s blows were hitting me all at once. Shivers became quakes.
My innards were trying to escape through every side of my body. Instinct spread across my mind like a wildfire, urging—no, demanding that I break off into a gallop. A single thought rose above it all, flashing over and over in front of my mind's eye.
Get to the clinic!
Through sheer force of will, I raised a hoof. It was no use—the pain’s control had become absolute.
The ground rose up to meet me.
---
Next thing I knew, my nostrils were being assaulted by the scent of strong medication and sterile bandages. My whole body felt tender, leading to the odd sensation of the clinic sheets being uncharacteristically soft, except where there was significant creasing. I let out a sigh as my eyes drifted open. I’d underestimated the effects of Ghost Petal, and it had almost cost me. In fact, there was no guarantee it still hadn’t cost me.
The ceiling and its lights blended together into one overwhelmingly white blotch. After several blinks did little, I turned my head. I was greeted by an IV stand, a full bag feeding down into my left foreleg.
Great. How reassuring.
Just behind the rack was one of those stubby, white hospital cabinets; I would have barely noticed it was even there if not for the vibrant brown book sitting on top of it. I had to squint a little, but even from this angle, I could instinctively tell that the tan blob on the cover was Daring Do.
“Dusky?” Terra’s voice pulled my eyes beyond the equipment to the cluster of visitor chairs. She was seated far forward, peering at me over a half-lowered copy of Equestrian Bride. While I was a bit confused, that green muzzle was a welcome beacon in a sea of sterile white. Before I could even raise an eyebrow, she'd tossed her magazine onto the end table and darted over to me.
Her hug was careful and measured, as though she was afraid she might break me. To be perfectly honest, given how I felt, that probably wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. Still, I was only too happy to hug her back.
“Thank Celestia you’re okay,” Terra was quiet, squeezing her words out between sniffles. “How do you keep getting into these things?”
I sighed and hugged her a little tighter. “Sorry, Terra. I’ll tell you more later, but it seems like I still can’t get away from my past.”
She let out her own sigh. “Your past is a jerk.”
“Tell me about it.” I smirked. As I scanned the room again, I noticed someone was missing. “Where’s Night? Is he okay?”
Terra flashed me her matchmaking grin. “Yeah, he’s just fine, aside from being worried about you, of course. He cares about you so much that I had to kick him out a few hours ago so that he’d actually get some sleep.”
Dread weighed down my stomach. “A few hours ago? Terra, how long have I been here?”
I couldn’t really say I was surprised, which only served to worry me more. It was very disconcerting to think that collapsing for long periods of time had become too ordinary to faze me.
“About a day from what I heard.” Terra shuffled her hooves.
I wanted to sigh again, but it came out as a laugh. “I should have guessed. Dare I ask what they said about my condition?”
Terra’s face became a deep frown. “Something about bruising and a drug crash and that your body just needs some time to recover. Is this… is this the thing you’re going to tell me about later?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, Terra. Rest assured I’m not an addict. I’d never willingly take the stuff.”
She nodded, though her expression remained somber. I was grateful that she was here for me, but at the same time I wished she didn’t have to deal with this. It was too much to ask of her, of anyone.
I needed something to lighten up the conversation. My eyes fell on the magazine. “So… Equestrian Bride?”
Terra immediately perked up. “Yeah! For when Stalwart asks me to marry him!”
“Marry?” I raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you only had one date?”
“Yes, but that’s all we needed! We’re clearly perfect for each other!” Terra’s aura snatched the magazine and flipped it open to reveal a filly in an ethereal blue dress. “And I even found the cutest flower girl dress for Aster.”
So much for for lighter conversation. I let out a sigh. “Terra, this is extremely overzealous, even for you. Are you really sure you’re not rushing into this?”
Terra gave me a confused look. “What? Why would I?”
“Well… I’m starting to think you love Aster more than Stalwart Stone.”
She gasped, looking at me like I’d just kicked her. “Dusky… how could you say such a thing?”
It took me a second to realize just how poorly a different interpretation of my words sounded. As I fumbled for my words, I chastised myself for being so unthinking. “Wait, Terra. I didn’t mean to imply you’re into foals. That’s not what I meant at all.”
Terra’s pain melted into sheepishness. “No, I’m sorry too. I know you wouldn’t think that about me. I’m just not thinking straight right now.”
I nodded. “I understand. Things have been stressful for everyone lately.”
“I know… I know it seems way too fast.” A smile crept up Terra’s lips. “But he’s a real gentlecolt. We really do get along so well. I do mean it when I say we’re the perfect couple.”
I smirked. “Wait, does that mean all those other couples you called perfect weren’t actually perfect?”
With a shake of her head Terra answered, “No, I meant those too. Stalwart and I are just… perfecter.”
My stay in the clinic felt like ages, even though it was only a few days. I was worried that perhaps Terra hadn’t had all the details, but the nurses didn’t have much worse to say. My wounds were serious, but not life-threatening. Given the kinds of hits I’d taken and the fact that I’d fainted, I was surprised it wasn’t worse—not that I was complaining.
If there was one good thing about the longer stay, it was that it gave me time to refine my explanation. Originally, I just intended to say I accidentally ingested some bad stuff at a Canterlot party. However, given that I’d collapsed, I had to assume they’d press me further. After a few hours, I was confident I’d worked out enough small details to make the story plausible, but still vague enough that I could claim forgetfulness when it came to anything major.
The rest of the days came and went and they discharged me without a single question, never mind any of the long and awkward variety. As I trotted out into the soft, morning sun, I had a pretty good idea who I had to thank.
At this point, all my other concerns returned to me. I needed to figure out when the Cartel might return and get everyone apprised of the situation. I couldn’t allow what happened to Mahogany to occur again. On top of that, we still didn’t know who or what this Bellerophon really was. What I did know, what haunted me, was the way Night looked when it was there.
Before I knew it, my hooves were taking me to the library. What I expected to find there, I didn’t know. After all, if even Star and Merriweather knew so little about this Ostfriesen legend, then what chance did such a small collection of tomes stand? In fact, what chance did Equestrian knowledge, in general, stand? Still, I couldn’t just give up, and if there was anyone who could dig up the most obscure of books, it was Twilight Sparkle.
Being discharged early on a work day was quite fortunate, as the library was completely dead. The only other time I’d have been able to get Twilight to myself would have been after the library closed—meaning another half-day of doing nothing while Bellerophon scurried around Night’s mind.
Twilight was near one of the wall shelves, extracting books from an overflowing cart as she hummed to herself. I didn’t recognize the tune, which generally meant that it was another one of her mnemonics.
“Twilight?”
“Oh, Dusky!” She smiled. “You’re okay.”
“Yeah. I just needed some minor treatment.”
“Really? Rainbow had me thinking it was worse.”
“The situation was definitely non-trivial, but the recovery itself was quick and simple.”
Twilight nodded. “That’s a relief. So what do you need?”
I glanced around, even though I was ninety-nine-percent certain we were still alone. “I need some information on Ostfriesen. Specifically, someone named Bellerophon.”
“Bellerophon? Hmmm, well, we don’t have much on Ostfriesen, but give me a second.” Twilight went over to her catalog and spent the next few minutes poring over it. “Aha!”
“Found something?”
“We might have a book. Foreign Lands: A Short History.”
“Uh, well, I guess that’s better than nothing.” While I knew finding anything more specific was a long shot, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
She wandered into the back and reappeared with a thick textbook. She flipped to the back, probing its contents. “Here we go. Ostfriesen, pages two-hundred to two-hundred-three.”
At this point, I almost felt like the library itself was mocking me. I imagined a big, bold header, followed by the statement ‘It exists.’ and then a whole bunch of artists’ interpretations of how they thought it looked.
“Warlord Tapioca founded Ostfriesen after a long campaign that lasted several years… wanted to unite all the tribes to stabilize them against the encroaching threats of the badlands…” Twilight flipped to the next page. “Key victory at Raging River… Aha! Bellerophon!”
“Where? What does it say?” I darted up beside her.
“Warlord Bellerophon was her final obstacle to unification. Outnumbered and desperate, Bellerophon challenged Tapioca to single combat and was defeated, cementing her position as Queen of the newly minted Ostfriesen.”
“And?”
“That’s it. Sorry.”
I stared at the book through slitted eyes. “Gah, that hardly tells us anything. I suppose it makes sense that the texts wouldn’t be too concerned with him if he was the loser, though.”
Grudgingly, I had to admit that the whole warlord schtick explained the sudden enhancement to Night’s combat skills.
“Why do you want to know about him so badly?” Twilight asked.
Glancing behind me again, I took a deep breath. “It’s… complicated, in a way we don’t fully understand yet. That’s why I’m doing this research. But the long and short of it is that Bellerophon is somehow inside Night’s head. I hate to ask this, but could you tell me about your experience?”
A dead serious look washed over Twilight’s face. She remained silent for what felt like hours and I couldn’t help but cringe. At last, she spoke, “Of course. Just give me a minute.”
Twilight trotted back to her desk, retrieving one of those ‘Be right back!’ signs with the customizable clock. She set the hands to precisely one hour later before locking the door.
She motioned me over to a cluster of reading stools. “How and when?”
“We don’t know for sure, but it seems like it’s something to do with an old, magical hoofblade. Night reported no troubles and none of us thought anything of it. Then, a few days ago, Night was talking about voices and visions and I think there was a point where… where…” I felt like I was going to have to squeeze my throat to get the words out, “...it was Bellerophon in control.”
A deep frown formed on Twilight’s lips. “That’s definitely similar.”
My throat went dry. “How similar?”
“The voices, the visions, the takeover. But not the hoofblade.”
I wilted. Only now was I realizing just how much Twilight had suffered and how much Night must be suffering. And once again, it seemed I was helpless to do anything but watch. “Is that a significant difference?”
Twilight tapped her chin. “Maybe. Did he use the hoofblade much before he brought up the symptoms?”
“Yes. He spent quite a bit of time training with it.”
“Hmm. When it came to the Nameless, it needed a catalyst to link us. In my case, it was a spell. I thought maybe the hoofblade was Bellerophon’s, but if Night was using it for a long time, I have doubts.”
“A catalyst?” Then it hit me like a brick wall and my blood ran cold. “Oh. Oh.”
“Dusky?”
“He… he accepted Bellerophon’s power because he thought it would help me.”
“Sorry. I know this isn’t looking good, but bear with me a second. Do you know if the offer was malicious or not?”
“I don’t know. Is there any other reason to possess a pony like that?”
“I can’t say for certain, but it’s a possibility. When the Nameless came for me, the whole thing was engineered to make me trust it. Getting lost in the storm, trapping me in, the monster attack, it was all a setup to make me accept the help, then trick me into casting the spell.”
A modicum of relief was quickly overrun by apprehension. To think that a disembodied being could do things like that before it even began the possession was more than a little frightening.
Twilight continued, “So the question is, does your situation look like a setup?”
“No. There were too many people involved. If he could exert that kind of power unassisted, he wouldn’t need Night. But… what’s to stop him from being an opportunist?”
“Nothing. If you’re certain he’s evil, we could use the Elements of Harmony. But you have to be sure. This is not a trifling amount of magic, and I’m not sure what would happen if we hit an unintended target. What we do know is if the users aren’t centred, the results can be unpredictable.”
I sighed. “If only I knew more about him, then maybe I could make a call. I can’t exactly take him at his word and I can’t even be sure Night’s wouldn’t be biased by his influence. I guess I need to do more research, but I wonder if I’d even have better luck with Canterlot.”
“I can check.” Twilight returned to her desk and began rummaging around. “It’s a little dated, but I’ve got a Canterlot index somewhere around here. Maybe I can at least point you in the right direction.”
Not an hour had passed, yet I felt drained as though we’d been going over this for days. With some effort, I was able to mumble out, “Thanks, Twilight.”
“Anything I can do to help.” By now, Twilight had located her catalog, magenta light flipping through the pages as she jotted things onto a long parchment. “While you’re gone, I’ll contact Princess Celestia and see what she has to say. When we’d talked, I got the impression that Nameless was the only one of its kind, but it looks like I was wrong.”
“If only you weren’t.”
---
I felt like a zombie and I was sure anyone who saw me would say I looked like one. The pale moonlight filtering in through high library windows and the dim candles, by which Ruby and I were reading, probably didn’t help.
The Canterlot university’s library was dark, the librarian and students long gone for the night. Shadows lurked in every corner of the room, but most hadn’t moved since the lights went out. The only exceptions were when the guard in our wing of the university periodically poked in to check on us. Technically, we weren’t even supposed to be there, but Ruby was good at exercising the perks of her profession.
We’d accumulated so many stacks of books that even the solid oak table groaned as we shifted them about. I was starting to lose track of which stack was what, and time had long escaped me. All I knew was, in spite of all our effort, none of the tomes said anything about Bellerophon that wasn’t in the Ponyville text.
My focus was fading and I found myself drifting back to The Record Club. Lockbox had been much quicker than usual, which boded either very well or very poorly. I’d squirmed in my seat, waiting for him to say something.
“I heard you plugged a leak,” he said. I wasn’t sure at first, given that it was barely there, but his voice almost sounded congratulatory.
“You could say that.”
“And you’re concerned about retaliation?” His voice was a normal neutral again.
I leaned back. “Yeah. I can’t imagine he was the only one upset about the previous incident.”
“The war has begun. They’ll have their hooves full for some time. Don’t let your guard down, but without a dedicated hunter, their efforts will be far more limited.” There was that tone again.
Relief washed over me, overflowing into a smile. “Thanks.”
I heard the coin bag jingle as he shook it. Then a couple more jingles before the bag plopped onto the floor. “Check down here once we’re done. Consider it a discount for mutual exchange.”
“Lockbox...”
“Dusky?” Ruby’s voice cut through my trance.
“Huh?”
We were almost muzzle to muzzle. Concern filled her eyes. “That’s the third time tonight. I think we should call it.”
“Just a couple more,” I mumbled. “We have to find something.”
“That’s what you said the last two times.” Ruby waved a hoof. “Besides, we’re out of list.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I know, right?” She grinned widely. “Finishing a Twilight Sparkle list is no mean feat.”
She had a point. Twilight’s list was long. Very long—even for her. In fact, it had overflowed my flight satchel to the point where the trip over had involved me checking every few minutes to make sure the clasp hadn't come undone.
I half-heartedly met Ruby’s smirk. “Yeah, guess so. Wish we could’ve gotten more out of it, though.”
“Nothing says we can’t come back tomorrow and look for books she missed.”
With a sigh, I stood up and stretched my wings. “Thanks, Ruby. See you tomorrow n—ack!”
My hooves dug into the floor in vain as the tingle of magic pulled my tail. “Ruby, what are you doing?”
“Taking you back to my place.”
Terra materialized in the back of my mind. Oh my.
Shush. I shooed the apparition away.
“You were going to fly all the way back to Ponyville, weren’t you?”
“Well, that is where my apartment is.”
“Dusky, you’re exhausted and it’s five in the morning,” Ruby said.
“Okay, okay, geez, you could have just said that in the first place.”
---
As I trudged toward the Seapony, I found it hard to believe that another day had already passed. Half of me wished it wasn’t so, that I was still back in Canterlot, working through more books. The other half was glad, looking forward to just hanging out with everyone.
Thanks to Ruby and her couch, we’d been able to get back to the library by late morning. She stayed with me as long as she could, but those classes weren’t going to teach themselves. Even by myself, I quickly found myself running out of options. Every dozen or so books, I’d just gotten more and more tangential. Eventually, there was nothing to do but admit that I’d hit a dead end.
Ruby tried to cheer me up, of course, but that only held me until I was out of the city. On the upside, I made it back to my apartment without incident and everything was pretty much the way I’d left it. With most of the day gone, I knew what I had to do.
So I found myself here, looking forward to a cider or two. And perhaps, if I was patient, we could learn something about Bellerophon.
I was one of the last to arrive and as such, was treated to the sight of another one of Merriweather’s smorgasbords of alcohol. As I slipped into my seat, a cider emerged from the forest of cups.
“Thanks, Merriweather,” I said, giving her a bit of a smirk.
She flourished. “I’m a mare of my word~.”
Before I dug in, I snuck Night a short nuzzle, which he was quick to return. Across the table, a grin formed on Terra’s face, growing larger and larger until it was just shy of consuming her head.
“So, you two are just, a thing now, out in the open, eh?” She waggled her eyebrows.
I raised my own brow and giggled. “I think you already know the answer to that, don't you?”
“Well, I just wanted to say it's about time!” Terra toasted to the air, then, before anyone could meet her gesture, knocked back half the glass.
“Yeah, but it was funnier when Flurry was all embarrassed and Dusky didn't know he existed,” Mahogany said through his glass, which still had a surprising amount of liquid in it. “You ask me, it's a step backwards, comedy-wise.”
Terra let out a snort and placed an indignant hoof to her chest. “Bah, you're thinking about it all wrong, Mahogany! There are fresh new ways to embarrass Flurry now! Like kissing! How much have they kissed? And for how long?”
Merriweather laughed loudly enough to wake the dead. The nice thing about bars is that no one really cares about something like that for more than a second, or else Night might have melted. Merriweather grinned a grin that matched Terra’s. “At least once we've seen. Really long one too~.”
Even though Night’s face turned red, it didn’t slow him down. He darted in for a quick peck on my cheek. “Well, um... there's one more.”
I giggled and leaned up against him. Night being Night really put my mind at ease. At least, for that moment, we didn’t have to worry about Bellerophon.
“They're so pwecious! So cyoot! So... saccharine. Bleh.” Mahogany rolled his eyes and was in the process of making a retching face when Terra prodded him right between the ribs. He shot her an annoyed look.
Terra hardly noticed the glare. “Well, I'm happy for you two at least. Another Terrabona success story.”
“Alright, Terra. Thank you for all your hard work.” I stuck my tongue out.
“Damn right.” She turned her gaze to Mahogany, Merriweather and Star, rubbing her hooves together as she did. “Two down. Three to go.”
“I will pass, thank you.” Star gave Terra a flat look.
Terra pouted. “Awww, come on! I bet I can hook you up with so—”
“Mahogany Forest!” a stallion’s voice boomed. A large, dark brown pegasus clomped across the floor as some of the regulars scrambled to get out of the way. His carefully trimmed mustache framed his lips in such a way that it was hard to imagine him as anything but perpetually pissed off. He slammed his hoof down on the table, drawing more than a few extra eyes. “Celestia's Hell, Mahogany, I was afraid I'd find you in some rundown slum and I can see I was right.”
Mahogany shrank down behind his glass, ears wilted. It was almost imperceptible, but I could tell he was shaking. Quickly and quietly, I shifted myself so that I could easily get out of my seat.
“Hey, now. No need to shout.” Terra glared at the stallion. “We were trying to have a pleasant conversation before you interrupted.”
The stallion met her gaze. “Ma'am, I am this colt's father. I can interrupt any time I choose.”
Mahogany had never been one to talk about his family. I was always curious, but hadn’t wanted to pry. The more hot air escaped his father’s mouth, though, the more I knew why. The bar seemed to catch on as well, growing quieter as more and more heads turned.
I cleared my throat. “Well, perhaps it would be best to move into the back room to—”
“He's my son, and I'll speak to him where I damn well want to.” Mahogany’s father didn’t even bother to look at me.
“Guys... don't,” Mahogany mumbled.
“Right. At least the colt still has some sense. I'm here for a simple conversation with my son. It's my privilege as his father,” Mahogany’s father bellowed. I wondered if he was going to start beating his chest next.
Mahogany sighed, peering up over his glass. “What do you want, Dad?”
“Hmph. Some respect first. And an apology, for wasting years of your life out here, when you should have been back home, helping your family.” The larger stallion aligned his muzzle so he could look straight down it.
“Dad, I don't want anything to do with the company.”
“Well, you've had your chance. It's been four, almost five years? You've moped around in this backwater wasting your time in this bar with these little friends, but now it's time to admit your mistakes and come home.”
Mahogany looked like he wanted to protest, but did little more than nod.
“You've wasted all your time on that terrible job, but at least your boss had the sense to call me when you failed to show up for a whole month, and again when you failed to show up last week.”
A lumped formed in my stomach. This was all because of me. I cleared my throat again. “Sir, in case you haven’t noticed, Mahogany is a full-grown stallion—one capable of making his own choices.”
“He's a child. He could barely make it through school, and when I offered him real responsibility, he ran. He's been running ever since. Usually into a bottle. And I'm done tolerating his crap. It's time to go home.” He turned that same gaze upon me, but, well, frankly, he wasn’t very good at it.
“H-home?” Mahogany squirmed.
“Home. Time to leave your filthy little apartment, and your pointless job and gray nothing life with these so-called friends behind.” Mahogany’s father drew himself up. “You've got a position to fill, and a purpose greater than the pathetic little box on your flank. Now come on. Your little vacation is over.”
I wanted to point out that airing his family’s dirty laundry in public was more childish than anything Mahogany could have done, but I could already tell he was the kind of person who would take that as a license to dump the whole basket.
Terra rose, meeting Mahogany’s father’s posture, even though she was at least a good foot shorter. I slid myself back a little, getting ready to back her up if need be.
With undisguised indignation, Terra pointed a hoof right at his chest. “It's not a vacation! It's his life! Do you have any idea what he's been through?”
“Do you have any idea what he's put me through?” Mahogany’s father stepped right around Terra. “I've got train tickets for the eight-thirty train home. Come on, Mahogany.”
Without even waiting for a response, he grabbed Mahogany by the mane and dragged him out of his seat.
“No,” Mahogany said as he pushed himself to his hooves.
“I'm sorry, did you just tell me no?” His father’s face contorted into the same look I’d seen on many a violent drunk. Slowly, I rose from my seat, contemplating the quickest way to bring him down.
Mahogany stood tall, and while his voice cracked, the defiance in his eyes was unmistakable. “I did, yeah. I'm not going to come back with you.”
“You're not serious.” Mahogany’s father looked stunned for just a second, before motioning to the entirety of the bar. “You're throwing away your only chance for what? For this? For these so-called friends? You're in a gutter, Mahogany, and they're just draggi—”
“Shut up!” Mahogany thrust out a hoof, and though his father stepped back, the motion was so wild that it caught his father under the chin with an audible crack.
Mahogany either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He was up in his father’s face, shouting just as loudly. “You've ruined every good thing in my life! All you ever cared about was the company, the company, the company! You've never cared about anything I wanted, or that I could be!”
His father spat a small glob of blood onto the floor. “I am your father! You can't treat me like that! I'm not afraid to teach you a harsher lesson, if you refuse to listen.”
“Better ponies than you have taken shots, Birch. You're a monster, and you're no father of mine. You, sir, are no White Riot.”
I frowned. This was not something he should be advertising, especially to the public. I would have cut in, but it was crucial that I not kill his momentum. At least the whole statement seemed to go over Birch’s head. While his expression hardly changed, I’m sure he wouldn’t have passed up another opportunity to declare how much of a screw-up Mahogany was. I felt a wing brush across my back and my eyes flitted over to Night. He gave me an apologetic look, to which I nodded.
Mahogany and his father continued to stare each other down, but neither raised a hoof.
Birch was apparently all bluster, as he stepped back and sneered. “You think this is over? You think you've won? Fine, let me give you what you've always wanted. As is my right as patriarch of the Forest family, I cast you out! As of today, you forfeit your shares of the company, your inheritance, and your family name! Choke on your miserable little life.”
He whirled and crashed through the door, leaving the entire bar staring after him. Ten seconds later, the whole incident was forgotten by all but our table.
“Never wanted to be one of you anyways.” Mahogany slumped.
Terra was the first to speak, “Whoa... damn, Mahogany…”
Mahogany stumbled back to his seat and flopped down, staring at his Buzzard. “That was the hardest thing I've ever done.”
“He's wrong, Mahogany…” Night added.
“He's wrong about a lot of things, but so am I, usually.”
“Well, sometimes.” Night shook his head. “But you're not worthless... and we are your friends. We'll support you.”
I took the opportunity to slip over and give Mahogany a hug. “Just like you've supported us.”
While I had work in the morning, I spent much of it mentally re-reading my letter from Ivory while my body went through the motions. In all the excitement surrounding the ghost in Night’s head and Mahogany’s father’s raging, I’d almost forgotten. Cue rearranging my flight satchels for weather work and finding the envelope tucked in between my rations.
I do not think it is the same as my spells, but given what you describe, I can see why you made the connection. There is a slight possibility that she may be involuntarily using some form of spell. However, since she doesn’t have a cutie mark, I’m more inclined toward another theory. This may be her natural earth pony magic working overtime. While cases are quite uncommon, for some foals, the surges they experienced in their earliest stages may intermittently persist while they are still developing. Nopony is entirely sure why, but stress has been noted as a factor. Anyway, this is all speculation. I’d need to see the foal in action to draw any conclusions.
-I
P.S. Are we still on for the summer?
The comparison to surges, in particular, left me unnerved. Was this something Aster had control over? Was a few small plants the limit of her power? Or would we one day wake up to find half of Ponyville consumed by revived plants? I couldn’t know for sure without some kind of analysis, but carting Aster off to Pasture was out of the question. If Stalwart Stone didn’t kill me, Terra almost certainly would. There was always Twilight. Unless Stalwart Stone also had an irrational fear of her, she’d be an easier sell than Pasture.
As the morning—and my self-debate—wore on, the more I realized that figuring anything else out hinged on my voicing my concerns. Since I didn’t really know Stalwart Stone that well, I decided that I should tell Terra first. Then she could help me break the news.
That just meant that I had to decide how I was going to approach her. I considered downplaying things a bit, just because this was going to be yet another really weird thing on her mind. The last thing I needed to do was freak her out. I still hadn’t quite figured out the wording when I clocked out, and as I left the weather office, I was so distracted that I just about walked right past my dad.
The royal blue of his coat caught the corner of my eye and I froze mid-step. He smiled his usual soft smile as his spectacled eyes met mine. My mind immediately shifted gear.
Whenever my dad came by himself, it meant no test—a rather rare occurrence. Undoubtedly, they’d heard about my latest escapades. I couldn’t help but wonder if the collateral had been wider than I’d thought.
“Dad? Is everything okay?”
He nodded. “Your mom and I just wanted to drop in for a visit.”
“Right,” I replied, as we started walking. “So, I’m guessing Mom’s waiting at my place?”
“No. Our house.” Without missing a beat, he turned down one of the posher side streets. Ponyville didn’t really do the whole mansion thing, but the bungalows here were at least four times as large as my apartment and probably about as expensive—possibly even more, given the numerous stylized windows.
“You… have a house here?” My heart sank. While the Everfree’s proximity alone could justify owning a safe house, the timing was too convenient. To think that I’d worried them that much—it was almost crushing.
“We do now. We only wish we could have done more sooner.”
I shook my head. “No, this whole thing, it’s… Sorry, Dad.”
“Whatever for?”
“For being a foolish filly.” I let out a sigh. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been so naive.”
My dad stopped and looked me right in the eye. “You’ve already apologized enough. Everyone makes mistakes.”
“But—”
Leaning in, he wrapped his head around my neck, pulling me close. “Dusky. You may have approached it the wrong way, but you have a good heart and that’s not something anyone should hold against you.”
I let my chin rest in his mane for a moment before stepping back. “Even so, all this trouble is my fault.”
“You’ll get through it. You’re a strong mare with good friends. And besides…” Dad glanced left, then right. “Don’t tell anyone else, but if everyone had to apologize whenever trouble came knocking, your mom wouldn’t be able to stop.”
Then he winked.
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Dad, I don’t know how reassuring that really is.”
“What about this?” My dad turned and stepped onto the closest, carefully trimmed lawn.
This bungalow was a bit more unassuming, with off-white paneling and less flamboyant, though still large, windows. The structure was also barely more than half as large as the others. Whatever extra space this left seemed to be taken up by a line of finely sculpted bushes and a pair of soft-pink dogwood trees.
He led me along the side of the house, to the back yard. The whole thing was fenced off by tall planks that were about the same colour as the bungalow. Aside from the grass, there were no other plants present. Instead, the majority of the space was taken up by a sturdy wooden shed, its large door facing out onto a wide patch of gravel.
“It’s… certainly nice,” I said. “So... another vacation home?”
My dad chuckled. “You bet.”
The back door led directly into a roomy kitchen that could have rivaled Sugarcube Corner’s. A large, six-chair dining table sat in the middle of the room, a few bags and various knickknacks strewn across its surface. As usual, these items had been conscripted to make the place look lived-in.
There were two other exits: a door to our right that became a set of stairs that almost certainly led to the basement and a doorway straight ahead that broke off to the left and right. As we closed the back door, my mom appeared in the hallway.
Without a word, she advanced, her eyes completely steady as lavender strands bounced around them. But this wasn’t Test Mode Mom. Her movements were more hurried than aggressive. Before I could even ask, her muzzle was pressed against my forelock.
“Sorry, Mom.”
“We’ll have to step up your training.”
I looked down. “I don’t think it would have helped.”
My mom stepped back, giving me a look as though I’d just claimed the sky was green.
With a sigh, I gave my parents a quick rundown of the situation. I told them how I’d been outnumbered, how Mahogany had been a hostage, how I’d been captured, but also bailed out by my friends. They listened quietly, my mom bearing an ever-deepening frown, while at about the halfway point, my dad wrapped a wing around my withers.
When I finished, my mom was the first to speak, “They’re just lucky Nobes beat me there. Heads would have rolled.”
She stared at the back door with such intensity that I was afraid it might explode.
Knowing that there was no way I could fully understand the worry she must have gone through, I pressed my muzzle against her mane. “Sorry, Mom. But I’m safe now. Please don’t do anything drastic.”
Mom snorted. “Of course not. It’s not our job to fight criminal organizations. However, it is Nobes’s job. I plan on having a nice, long chat with him tonight.”
“I know, but, if it weren’t for him, I might not have gotten away.”
My mom shook her head. “If he’d been doing his damned job, you wouldn’t have had to get away in the first place.”
“Your mother’s right,” my dad chimed in. “Regardless of the outcome, this situation has been more than a little alarming. It is the duty of the Guard to protect the innocent and this has been a major lapse that begs discussion.”
“Yeah, I understand that. Just… please don’t get carried away.”
---
I almost wanted to go with my parents to Canterlot, to make sure they got my input. However, I decided I needed to trust my parents—not just because my dad was much better with words than I, but because Mahogany needed my support.
Mahogany had hardly said a word the rest of the night, even though we’d stayed until closing. It made me wish I’d asked about his family sooner, though there’d been no time to rectify it then. I needed to give him space, which was more than a little strange to do in a bar, but it’s not like the rest of my month had been any more normal.
After I parted ways with my parents, I headed toward the EPS store, planning to catch him as he got off work. I’d hoped to talk to Terra beforehoof, but whatever window I'd had for that had disappeared with the afternoon’s diversion. In any event, Mahogany’s trauma was more immediate. I could pull Terra aside tonight or even tomorrow.
The door jingled as I nosed it open and Mahogany, who was practically face down on a clipboard, tiredly pulled himself up so he was at least a few inches above the counter. His head looked like it could plummet at a moment’s notice. He managed something of a smile when he saw me.
“Oh, hey, Dusky,” he mumbled into his clipboard. “No packages today.”
“That’s okay. That’s not what I’m here for. How’ve you been holding up?”
“Fine. Just fine. Nothing wrong with ol’ Mahogany.” His eyes were everywhere—except on me.
I had to resist rolling my eyes. “You could at least try to lie a little more convincingly. You look like death. Did something else happen?”
He let out a long sigh. “Gimme a second.”
Mahogany stepped around the counter, a key clutched between his teeth. I took a step back, giving him space to lock the door. Once it was secure, he stood there for several moments before finally turning around.
“Somepony broke into my apartment.” His words hit me like a full-grown Ursa.
Is the Cartel already on the move again? My mind flitted back to the alleyway, with Mahogany lying on the ground.
“That hardly makes it better.” My mind was moving at a million miles a minute. This plan had to be solid. I couldn’t let Mahogany get hurt again. “We have to get you out before they come back. I know a place you can stay until we can get in contact with Noble Light.”
“What? They? Dusky, it’s just my dad. Ex-dad. Whatever.”
I blinked. “What? How do you know?”
“He just ran off with some stuff the family sent over for Hearth’s Warming and my birthday. Somepony smart would have raided my booze or searched my room for bits.” Mahogany laughed, though it was more bitter than anything.
“That’s still really awful. Why would he even do that? Is it part of the whole... disowning thing?” At the moment, I really wished I could have let him borrow my family.
“Yeah, I guess. Didn’t stop him from leaving a business card,” Mahogany grumbled.
“What?! That’s just… I don’t even have any words for that.” I didn’t know if I should be more baffled or angry. He wasn’t kidding when he said it wasn’t over.
“Haha, yeah…” Mahogany’s laugh was so defeated that I wanted to hug him. “That’s my dad.”
“You have to call the Guard.”
“Why? I don’t wanna deal with him anymore. Plus, he’ll just win, anyway.”
I frowned. “I know what you’re getting at, but getting help from the Guard isn’t a contest. Usually.”
“Usually.” He gave me a flat look.
“My case is different. His company’s a legit business, right?”
“Maybe?” Mahogany shrugged. “I’m not really up on company secrets.”
“Well, even if he is doing shady things, his company is still in a legit trade. What the Cartel does, it’s inherently against the law. The Guard will always be chasing them. For the company, they don’t draw that kind of attention just for existing. Bribery gone awry could bring the whole thing crashing down. So the odds of any… pre-existing relationship are slim.”
Mahogany looked away. “I don’t know.”
Slipping up beside him, I gave him a quick hug. “At least give it some thought.”
“Fine. Just don’t tell anyone else yet.”
---
As it turned out, Terra had a date with Stalwart Stone that night, which was perhaps just as well. When I pulled Star and Merriweather aside to discuss our research progress with regards to Bellerophon, it became a full-blown meeting.
What texts they had with them seemed to be of little more use than the ones I’d found in Canterlot. Even so, rather than sit idle, we started double-checking the books, all the while grasping for good alternatives.
By the time Night arrived, we’d gained little more than frustration. Star had resorted to triple-checking, while Merriweather was spouting off anything that came to mind.
Night snuck across the floor like a foal arriving late to class. I looked up as he settled down beside me and gave him a quick nuzzle. “Hi, Night. You doing okay?”
“I've... been better.” He smiled half-heartedly before turning to Star and Merriweather. “So... what have we learned?”
Star stared past us and sighed. “Not much, I am afraid. Bits and pieces of lore, but nothing we did not already know. After Tapioca united Ostfriesen, Bellerophon simply disappeared from the history books.”
“Twilight didn't know anything either.” My eyes flitted back to the useless book in front of me. “And I couldn't find anything useful in the Canterlot Library.”
Night wilted, tapping his hooves against each other as he looked between us. “Then what do we do? I... I mean, there's something we can do, right?”
Star and Merri exchanged glances before Merri finally spoke, “Well, we've got one idea, but it's not exactly the best plan.”
“We have access to the source material right there.” Star pointed at Night. “If we can talk to him.”
“I don't like it,” I said. While it was probably our most coherent alternative, the risk involved was potentially severe. “How can we be sure this is safe?”
Merriweather’s expression turned somber. “We... really can't. I mean, he's in there, listening, right? He reacted last time when I tried to talk at him.”
“I... I don't know.” Night squirmed.
“Night…” I nuzzled into his mane, wishing I could give him more reassurance. I wanted to tell him that if this made him uncomfortable, he didn’t have to do it. But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that doing nothing could be just as bad.
Star leaned forward. “Perhaps you can talk with him again, Night? You have been able to communicate, yes?”
“I can try, if... if he feels like it.” Night looked away. “He's not exactly been cooperative with me.”
“Night Light.” I pressed a hoof against his side, until he turned to me again. Slipping my muzzle under his, I nudged at his chin. Then I looked him in the eye, doing my best to hide my own anxiety.
Night stared off into space for a good minute before he finally spoke, “He says he'll answer.”
“Excellent.” Star swept aside her book, replacing it with a quill and some parchment. “Now, to begin, ask him the nature of this possession. Was it a spell he was aware of?”
At that moment, Night’s eyes hardened and his posture became more rigid. It was him. I swallowed hard, pushing back on my anxiety before it could overflow.
“It was. A spell cast by a maniac, and accepted in righteous anger.” Bellerophon’s voice was cold, almost contemptuous, leaving Night a complete alien.
“Night?” I asked, hoping that he would return right that instant, that he was only lending Bellerophon his voice.
“We were not expecting to speak so directly, Lord Bellerophon.” Uncertainty washed over Star’s face, her voice wavering for just an instant.
“Y-you remember Tapioca, right? Queen of Ostfriesen? Sword of the Plains?” Merriweather blurted out.
“I remember her. I remember her prowess, her promises, her treason,” Bellerophon practically growled.
“Treason!? But, she saved Ostfriesen! She was a hero!” Merriweather almost looked more confused than angry.
Bellerophon slammed his hoof against the table. “She was a liar, and a whore!”
Merriweather opened her mouth again, but closed it when Star placed a hoof against her withers. With a cough, Star took over. “We're getting off-track. We're trying to determine how, and why, you are here, Lord Bellerophon. Please explain the spell that brought you here.”
“Very well.” He flashed Merriweather a dirty look. “After I was tossed aside by her Highness, I departed Ostfriesen. I wasn't about to betray my oaths, even if she'd betrayed me. I slew the enemies of the country. I protected lives.”
“You went rogue?” Surprise filled Star’s face once more.
This time, he directed his scowl at Star. “"I swore an oath as a Knight. As the first Knight! I simply lived those oaths with no master. And then I met Broken Tooth. He was insane, I knew it from the moment I met him, but he was a brilliant wizard, and he had discovered something incredible. Immortality.”
“Not possible, no matter how strong the magic.” Star narrowed her eyes.
“And yet I stand here, talking.” Bellerophon’s expression turned smug. “Dragon's blood is very difficult to obtain, but it is such a powerful ingredient.”
Merriweather and Star looked at each other. I’m certain we must have all been thinking the same thing. If this was true, then Tapioca’s legend must be true. Following that, would that mean that every ancient Ostfriesen knight was that strong? And how much of that transferred over to Night?
Which brought me to my real question. “You're talking, but it isn't you I see standing here. Clearly, it's not true immortality. There's a cost, isn't there?”
Some of his intensity faded. “That is true, yes. It wasn't true immortality, as you say. I still... died. But then I woke up to darkness. The spell couldn't anchor me to a body, instead, it anchored me to my armor. The only piece of my battle armor to remain is this bracer.”
He absently traced a hoof over the bracer.
“Well, there we go!” Merriweather’s eyes lit up as she clapped her hooves. “We destroy the bracer, and boom! No more possessed Flurry! Easy!”
My chest seized up.
Bellerophon leapt from his seat, blade extended and pointed across the table. “As I thought! You would let me die?! Just as Tapioca spit upon my honour, so do her descendants. You are as des—”
It was Twilight all over again, but instead of magic, it was a blade. My senses turned entirely inward. All I could see was the lightning. All I could smell was my own burning flesh. I must have reacted instinctually, as by the time I’d pushed away the fear, I was standing, my own forehoof shoving the blade aside.
I don’t know where I found the strength, but somehow I squeezed out something resembling coherent thought, “Stop! They're not Tapioca. Her sins are not theirs!”
Bellerophon glanced at me, bewilderment on his face. I stared back as sternly as I could. Wavering was not an option.
Finally, he relented and as the blade vanished, he grumbled, “It's not worth the effort.”
“Jeez, thanks Belly. You're a real winner too.” Merriweather very slowly relaxed her own fighting stance.
As I looked everyone over, I saw that Star too had been ready for action. Her stance was much more subtle, but it wasn’t difficult see with trained eyes. At once, I felt exhausted and anxious, afraid and angry.
“This is ridiculous. No one wants to kill you, but what you’re doing, it’s…” To think that Bellerophon had almost had us fighting Night, it was almost too much. I wanted to scream at him, to call him a brute and a villain. But the fact of the matter was that he still held Night’s life in his hooves. For Night’s sake, I had to calm myself. “I... I need some air.”
With that, I slipped out of the room. The closest exit was the back door, which I might have shoved open just a bit too hard. Luckily, no one was on the other side.
A cool breeze blew through my coat, skimming off just a bit of my anxiety. I took a few moments to breathe, clearing my head just enough for me to look for a cloud. I needed a few moments alone, but didn’t want to go too far.
Thankfully, there were more than a few candidates lazily hanging out over the bar. I picked one that was about a dozen feet up from the roof and settled into its soft, fluffy embrace.
Beyond this layer of cloud, the sky was relatively clear and I found my gaze drifting up to the moon. The pale light was calming, almost mesmerizing. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed its effect before. Perhaps I was just so upset that I needed to let myself drift for a bit.
The guilt began to sink in. Even though I’d needed to regain my composure, I’d still left everyone alone. Given how quickly Bellerophon had backed down, I doubted things had escalated again. Still, I’d need to get my thoughts together quickly.
Every time I thought of Night and how Bellerophon could so easily take control, I felt sick. The Night who was not Night was burned into my mind and my knee-jerk reaction was to go get Twilight. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the best idea. What Bellerophon was doing, it wasn’t right. However, if I told her I thought he was evil, I’d be lying. I got the impression that he was more of a grumpy old stallion. A selfish, grumpy old stallion who made poor life choices, but that didn’t make him a villain.
This is not a trifling amount of magic, and I’m not sure what would happen if we hit an unintended target. Twilight’s words echoed through my mind. I somehow doubted the result would cause Night physical harm, but there are many things that could be just as bad. We couldn’t risk a repeat of ‘one-thousand years on the moon’.
I sighed. Back to square one.
“D-Dusky?” Night’s voice—the real Night’s—came from behind me.
I turned to him and only then, as moisture rolled down my already-damp cheeks, did I realize how much I’d been crying.
Night hovered down, landing beside me and wrapping me in a tight hug. “Dusky, I'm... I'm so sorry.”
Leaning up against him, I let out a short sigh. “I... I just can't stand to see you like that.”
He shrunk a bit. “I was afraid you'd hate me.”
“No, Night Light.” I pressed my muzzle against his cheek. “I could never hate you. But, him? Pulling a blade and threatening our friends—that's not you, Night! It's like you're gone, and when it happened, I kept wondering: are you going to come back?”
“How could I not come back? I have so much to come back for now. And... I'll fight for it.” His smile was nothing short of anxious.
“I wish you didn't have to fight for it.” I snuck a short nuzzle. “Just real Night, one-hundred percent of the time.”
“Wh-what? Let you…” Night stammered out, to which I raised an eyebrow. He quickly caught himself and continued, “He uh, well... wants to talk to you. He's... asking permission.”
“I... “ Uncertainty flooded over me. Surely, this was too soon. I watched him carefully and he met my gaze, a sort of soft resolve in them. “Promise me you'll come back.”
“For this? Nothing could stop me. I promise.”
Night’s posture shifted and Bellerophon stared off into the distance. “I must apologize, to you, to your friends. This isn't what I wanted.”
The edge was gone from his voice. This time, he just sounded tired. Still, I was on guard, unsure of his sincerity.
“What did you want? You made choices that you knew weren't going to end well.”
“An angry heart drove me to grim measures.” Bellerophon breathed deeply, closing his eyes as he did.
“And now you would inflict that on him?”
He exhaled slowly. “When he wore the bracer, I could see through him. The more I spoke to him, the more I could feel the world. And soon, I could be in the world around him even when he didn't wear it. I wanted to breathe and to fly again. I wanted to live, and he wanted to defend his friends. I thought... I thought we could both get what we wanted. But, not like this.”
My eyes flitted to the ground as I tried to hold my anxiety back. “Not through Night.”
“I don't know how to end this. If you destroy the bracer, it is possible that it will…” He paused, staring off into the distance again. “It may destroy me. My life has been so long already, alone in the darkness. Maybe I deserve that, yet even now I don't want to die. Perhaps that fear would keep me here. It is impossible to know.”
At the moment, he almost seemed like a normal person, just out of time and out of place. Such was the curse of immortality. I watched him closely. “So you really don't know what can be done to change this? He just has to live with you in there?”
Bellerophon closed his eyes. “I... cannot say. But, I can promise this, I vow that I will no longer force this upon him.”
“I'll hold you to your word.” I continued to watch him for a bit. Either he was a very good actor, or he was sincere enough. There was one thing that nagged at me, that I had to ask, “How long is 'so long'?”
He spoke slowly, as though recalling the memories as he went. Eventually, his eyes turned skyward. “I don't know. I couldn't keep track. The darkness swallowed everything, even the moon.”
“The moon?” I blinked.
“When I first awoke in that blighted realm, the moon shone down on me. It was a comforting presence for one who had damned himself. Then, even the moon went dark. The light inside it replaced by a bitterness.”
The moon went dark? I had an inkling, but it needed confirmation. “And... now? Is the moon still dark?”
Bellerophon shook his head. “Not long ago, the light returned. That was when I began to see the world again.”
Could it be? That, wherever he was, he could still somehow see our moon? I turned to Bellerophon. “Nightmare Moon.”
“Nightmare Moon?” He raised an eyebrow. It was only then that I realized just how out of time he was.
“She was created over a thousand years ago, or so the legends say. A terrible villain, who was trapped in the moon, until recently, when she was freed, and defeated once again… and redeemed. While she was trapped, the moon was marked by the Mare in the Moon.”
Bellerophon wilted. “One thousand...?”
A thousand years lost in darkness. I’d only spent three days alone in my dreams and the whole thing had left me exhausted. The sheer magnitude of the scale closed around my mind like a vise. To be perfectly honest, that Bellerophon was anything short of a raving lunatic was astonishing. Even after everything he’d done, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Slowly, cautiously, I leaned over and gave him a hug.
Bellerophon tensed, and when I pulled away, he gave me an incredulous look. “Wh-what are you... It is still me, still Bellerophon.”
I nodded, though I kept my eyes on him. “I don't agree with what you've done to Night, but no one deserves what you've had to endure.”
His expression hardly changed. “I... thank you. Thank you. I'm sorry. I... I will return control to him now. I shall be content with the moon, and the light it gives once again.”
“Understood.”
This still wasn’t right. Night still deserved his body back, to have his mind free from influence. But for now, this small victory, it was something.
As Bellerophon faded away, he left me with these words, “I cannot keep you two from one another. Betrayal is the greatest sin, and there is no greater pain than the betrayal of a lover. I will not cause him to betray you this way.”
Something had obviously caused him and Tapioca to have a falling out, but what it was, I didn’t know. Perhaps it was best that I didn’t know. If there was one thing I knew for certain, this was yet another reminder that legends don’t necessarily paint the full picture.
Night looked up at me, this time with a smile free from fear. “S-see? I promised I'd be back.”
Words wouldn’t have been enough, so I wrapped him in the tightest hug I’d ever given him. He tumbled back, falling flat against the cloud.
As he looked up at me, he smiled widely. “A-and... glad to be back.”
The longer I considered my upcoming conversation with Terra, the more I became convinced the Seapony’s back room was not the best way to start. At this point, I’d basically be giving her a cue to freak out. As fortune had it, we were only a day out from our usual spa day, so I figured I could just stop by early.
However, when her door swung open, concern immediately filled her face. “Oh, hi, Dusky. Is something wrong?”
I supposed I should have expected that, given that I’d somehow become the herald of trouble.
“No, well, yes, but not of the... usual variety.” I sighed. There had to be some kind of award for having a life where Aster’s ability was one of the least dangerous things. “I guess you could say it’s less immediate.”
“R-right.” Terra didn’t look too convinced. “Come in.”
As soon as I stepped in, I was struck by just how much less cluttered the place felt. Closer examination told me that Terra’s organized mess wasn’t gone so much that it had become a bit more presentable. At least, things were less scattered and made better use of vertical space. There were still no labels to speak of, but from what few things were peeking out, I could discern a vague categorization. What’s more, the living room was completely free of empty bottles and the curtains were open.
“New stock coming in?”
Terra shook her head. “I just thought I should clean up a bit.”
“Make it more foal friendly?” I raised an eyebrow.
She smiled a little. “Something like that.”
I slipped onto the loveseat and Terra sat on the sofa directly across from me. I’d been rehearsing what to say all day. Thankfully, rereading Ivory’s letter reminded me how I could make this whole thing sound a bit more normal.
“What would you say if I said I thought Aster was still having surges?”
“That’s ridiculous.” Terra raised an eyebrow. “She’s way too old for that.”
“Not necessarily. There are some outliers, who continue to have surges for several years after the usual cut-off point.”
“Then why haven’t I seen them?”
This was the part that gave me pause. I hated to bank so much on speculation, but there would be no proof unless I could convince them to look for it. “Well, I can’t be sure, but I have a theory that they only come up when she tries to use her earth pony powers.”
Worry clouded Terra’s face as she stared into the past. “But... shouldn’t this have come up every time we went gardening?”
I shook my head. “Not if she’s hiding it.”
“Why would she do that?” Terra’s confusion became shock.
“Maybe because she’s scared or weirded out by it?”
Terra frowned. “But she knows she can trust me.”
“Maybe, but how far?” I paused, trying to find words that were as gentle as possible. “I know you two have become quite close, but how long have you really known each other?”
She sighed. “I guess. So, what brought all this up?”
“Do you remember that very first pallet of plants?”
“Yeah.” A smile crept up her lips. “It was harder to get than I’d thought. But it was worth it.”
“Did you know that at least one of them was withered?”
“No? Yes?” She stared off into the distance and shook her head. “There were so many different plants, I think I lost track.”
This was the moment of truth, where I’d either convince Terra to help Aster—or that I belonged in a loony bin. I braced myself. “Well, there was, and when I came over, I saw her... reanimate it.”
She blinked as her head slowly tilted. “As in, raising it from the dead?”
“Something like that, yeah. I almost didn’t believe it myself, but when she faced me, she had this guilty look, as though she knew something wasn’t right.”
“Oh, well… um, that’s not so bad.” Terra stared nervously at her hooves. “Maybe a little weird, but foals have had more destructive surges, right?”
I couldn’t help but do a bit of my own fidgeting. “Yeah, uh, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you about it. We have no benchmark for that incident, so we can’t say if that was her upper limit or if it could get stronger.”
Her eyes drifted upward. “I don’t follow. How could giving life be destructive?”
“Well, the magic has to come from somewhere. Aside from the fatigue issue, we have no idea what kind of side effects she could experience.” I gave her an apologetic look. Even though I knew it was for the best, I felt like some kind of fear monger—and it left a bad taste in my mouth. “The rest depends on the magnitude of her power, but imagine if she were to accidentally revive some old roots. Those things are sturdy and could easily damage any of Ponyville’s underground infrastructure. Or imagine if it reproduced an entire tree in the middle of someone’s house.”
A shudder swept over Terra. “Oh. Y-yeah, that sounds bad.”
I stood up and walked over to Terra, placing a wing on her shoulder. “Of course, none of that is for certain. It could very well be something minor, but we won’t know without consulting a specialist. And, well, this obviously isn’t my call. You know Stalwart Stone better than me, so I was hoping you might have some good ideas of how to break all this to him.”
“Right.” Terra pondered for a moment. “I think… I think we can just tell him exactly what you told me. He loves Aster more than anything else in the world. If it’s for her health, I don’t think he’ll take much convincing.”
“Sorry to drop this on you right before our spa day.”
She smiled a little. “No better time to relieve some tension, right?”
---
The spa went as though nothing had happened. While we weren’t going to talk about Aster’s issue in public, I was still worried about the lingering effects our initial conversation might have had. I’d been fully prepared to upgrade Terra’s usual to the deluxe, but the need never arose. She was remarkably calm, especially for how little whiskey she’d had in the last few hours. I supposed between my misadventures and mothering Aster, she had to build up a tolerance at some point.
I slept a little better that night, which was good, because the next morning involved disassembling one of those large, overnight storms. Thunder clouds always require careful attention if one wants to avoid any combination of embarrassment or injury.
Thankfully, I was able to keep my focus, warding off thoughts of mental ghosts, zombie plants and sociopathic ex-fathers. Just my team, some clouds and a tough task ahead. Some might call me crazy, but as I clocked out and left the town hall, my mind felt about as refreshed as my body had after the spa.
The day was still cool, and, while the lingering dampness was starting to smell a bit stale, it compelled me to take a scenic route home. So I stepped into the park, intent on following the perimeter until it linked back onto the main road.
“You!” Aster’s voice pierced the morning serenity. I turned to see her barreling toward me, face contorted with rage. “You told them!”
What? Did Terra already—? I tossed the thought aside as I realized Aster wasn’t going to stop. Granted, I probably didn’t need to. With such an obvious trajectory, my sidestep almost felt casual.
Not to be deterred, Aster whipped around, carrying her full momentum toward me again. She lacked anything resembling technique, so avoiding her wasn’t going to be a problem. The real trick was going to be stopping her without hurting her.
I slid away as she charged past, sticking my hind leg out just enough to clip hers. She stumbled, letting out a yelp as she skidded to a half-crouched halt. That was my cue and I pounced, placing my barrel top her shoulders and forcing her to the ground.
“Nnnnngh! Get off me!” she squealed.
“Not until you settle down.”
She squirmed once, then twice, before grumbling, “Fiiiine.”
“Promise?”
“Yes! Just let me go!”
As I stood up, Aster darted away. After a few feet, she turned to give me a scowl.
I met her gaze with a stare of my own. “Now, what was all that about?”
“You weren’t supposed to tell them about my thing.”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “Now, why wouldn’t you want your father to know about something like your special ability?”
Aster tried to scowl harder, but it actually made her look kind of ridiculous. “That’s none of your business.”
“Maybe you didn’t want him to know how much it wears you down?”
“No! Who cares about that? I just needed more time to make it perfect.”
I tilted my head. “So you don’t care about your health at all?”
“My family doesn’t let a little tiredness stop them.” She puffed out her chest. I couldn’t help but be impressed by her initiative. At the same time, I think that same drive made her more than a bit short-sighted.
“Aster, don’t lie. I saw you. That’s not ‘a little tiredness’, that’s exhausted.”
She simply stared back at me.
I sighed. “Besides, your father is an adult, who has a better grasp on his limitations than a foal like y—”
“I am an adult!” Aster stomped a hoof.
“You sure aren’t acting like one.” I gave her a stern look, though I’m sure it hardly compared to Terra’s.
Sure enough, Aster only hesitated a few seconds before her indignation returned. “You… you don’t know anything! You should have asked me first!”
“Maybe.” It was time for a change of tactics. “Let’s say I did. Can you honestly say you’d have listened?”
Her cheeks inflated a bit as she narrowed her eyes. Through gritted teeth, she forced the words out. “Yes. I totally would have.”
“Really? After today, how can you even say that with a straight face?”
“You don’t understand!” There was that angry face again.
“Well, you keep saying that, but you never say why. Care to enlighten me?”
Aster looked at me with deep suspicion. I imagined she saw me as some kind of villain, trying to trick her into revealing her darkest secrets.
When at last she spoke, there was a notable pain in her eyes, even as she tried to hide it. “D-Dad, he… he can barely afford his doctor and he already works too hard. He can’t afford this. So… so it’s on me.”
She really had grown up too fast, something I wasn’t entirely a stranger to. Considering what Ivory had said, I couldn’t help but wonder if Aster was stuck in some kind of stress feedback loop.
A soft smile formed on my lips as I spoke, “I think it’s sweet that you want to help your dad like that. It’s only natural to feel that way. But remember that it works in reverse too. When you overstrain yourself, it hurts those around you.”
“I know,” she muttered. “Doesn’t fix anything.”
“That may be true, but Terra and I happen to know a few people. We might be able to work something out. You’re just going to have to trust us.”
Aster regarded me with a mix of relief and suspicion.
I smiled a little wider. “Think on it for a bit, okay?”
Before she could answer, Terra’s voice filled the park. “Aster!”
Terra came galloping over. Despite his back brace, Stalwart Stone wasn’t too far behind, moving at a more measured canter. I could tell he really wanted to move faster, though.
“Aster, how many times have I told you you’re too young to be out on your own?” Terra’s face overflowed with motherly disappointment.
“Too often,” Aster grumbled. She shrank down when Terra’s face turned sterner. “S-sorry.”
“Miss Terrabona is right,” Stalwart Stone added. “You can’t go wandering off like that without telling me. You had me worried sick.”
Aster stole a guilty glance at me. “Sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“I know.” He nuzzled into her forelock. “You need to think things through a little more. Now come along. We need to get going.”
“Yes, Dad.”
Stalwart Stone glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry for any trouble, Miss Down. If there’s anything I can do to thank you…”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. If things work out, that’ll be good enough for me.”
“Go ahead without me, Stalwart,” Terra said. “I need to talk to Dusky real quick.”
He nodded. “Okay. See you at the house.”
Terra waited until the two of them were out of earshot before turning back to me. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you. Stalwart and I just got talking and it sort of slipped out.”
“The important thing is that Stalwart Stone was informed. Any good opportunity for that is fine by me. I just didn’t expect Aster to take it so hard.”
“Eheh, well, about that.” Terra scuffed a hoof. “I thought it was a good time. Aster was asleep and I had some time alone with Stalwart. But then I guess Aster wasn’t really asleep and then… then when we went to talk to her in the morning, she was gone!”
I nodded. “I noticed emotions seemed to be running a little high there. She wasn’t exactly happy to see me.”
Terra sighed, rubbing her temples with her hooves. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. She would have figured it out eventually, since she did see me see her.” I smirked a little. “And besides, after the rest of the year, I’ll gladly deal with one angry filly.”
The evening was well underway when we arrived at Twilight’s. I would have preferred to start in the morning to allow for some wiggle room with the evaluation. However, while we could fudge Aster’s schedule, it would be counterproductive to have Stalwart Stone miss work. And while we could have gone without him, it didn’t feel right. I was already dreading the logistics that would be involved if Ivory had to come into the picture.
I glanced back at the others. Stalwart Stone was the calmest, merely shifting from hoof to hoof. Comparatively, Terra and Aster were, respectively, a green and purple ball of nerves—though for different reasons. Terra looked like she could faint at any given moment, but Aster was clearly stoked, yet uncertain.
“C’mon, everyone, it’s Twilight Sparkle, not an Ursa. She’s not going to bite your head off.”
“I know, I know,” Terra and Aster said simultaneously. Their eyes slowly turned sideways.
I stifled a giggle.
“It’s just…” Terra stared at the library door as if there was a rabid timberwolf on the other side. “I’m sure she must have Elementsy things she has to do. Isn’t there somepony else?”
“Not in Ponyville. Or even for some distance, as far as I know. Unless...” I smirked, “you want to go to Canterlot and hunt for one of the Princesses.”
“Oooo, really?” Aster looked breathless for a moment.
Terra went pale. “N-no, that’s… Twilight Sparkle will do.”
“Aw…”
Given Aster’s rather casual treatment of authority, I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised. In the very least, I could almost certainly leverage it for her cooperation. “Now, c’mon. Let’s go inside before we spend the entire night on the porch.”
As soon as I opened the door, Aster wasted no time rushing in. She zeroed in on Twilight, who was poring over something at the check-out desk.
“Twilight Sparkle!” Aster blurted out as she stopped just shy of ramming the desk.
Twilight looked up. “Um, hello.”
“You’re the awesomest hero, always saving Equestria and stuff!”
With a laugh, Twilight flipped her book closed. “I’m flattered, but you know I can only do all that with help from my friends, right?”
“But they’re only able to do it because you take charge and get things done!”
“That’s teamwork for you.” Twilight smiled. “You must be Aster.”
Aster gasped. “You’ve heard of me?! I mean, I know I’m awesome too, but you’re Twilight Sparkle!”
“I have. From Dusky. She tells me you’re a very special filly.” Twilight’s smile widened.
Aster stared—first at Twilight, then me, likely reevaluating if I belonged in the Awesomeness Club.
“Now, Aster, don’t be rude.” Stalwart Stone stepped forward and nudged her. “I am Stalwart Stone and this is Miss Terrabonna. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sparkle.”
“Er, hi.” Terra hung back just a bit.
“Likewise,” Twilight replied. “Now, why don’t we go downstairs and see what we can do for Aster?”
“Wait. Should we really be doing this here?” I asked. When Twilight tilted her head, I added. “Plant magic inside a big tree, that is.”
Twilight waved her hoof. “Oh, don’t worry. My lab is warded in case things get a little crazy.”
“Just a little?” I raised an eyebrow.
“By our standards.” Twilight paused for a moment, then flashed me an excited grin. “Not that this won’t be fun. It’s not like everything I study has to threaten Equestria.”
“Right, right.”
She hurried us down into a room that was filled with machines and a variety of beakers and flasks. It was almost like a couple of the Canterlot University’s labs had been mashed together and miniaturized.
About a dozen clay pots were stacked in the middle of one of the tables, their dead contents rescued from a fate in Applejack’s compost. One of the instruments, consisting only of a thick strip of fabric with an attached metal bar, was laid out beside the pots.
“What is that?” Terra eyed the device suspiciously.
“This? It’s a simple general dual monitor. When powered, this left meter reads the magical resistance factor required to offset a subject’s output. The dials on the right work together to keep track of pulse, temperature, respiration and blood pressure. It can measure all ponies and a wide variety of other species. Oh, and it’s rated for two—”
“Twilight,” I said, stepping in before she could go on another hour. “I think we’re getting a little off track.”
“Oops, sorry.” She didn’t miss a beat. “I guess you only need the gist of things.”
Aster trotted over and peered at it.“Can anypony use it?”
“Technically, yes and no. Anypony can be measured by it, but the capacitor only works properly with unicorn magic.”
“Aw. Why is all the cool stuff made for unicorns?” Aster grumbled.
Twilight laughed. “Actually, there are self-powered versions that anypony can get—they’re just a bit more expensive. Any magic shop in Canterlot should stock them. I should warn you that shopping there can be addictive and the cost quickly adds up.”
I almost thought I detected a hint of pride in Twilight’s voice in that last sentence.
Aster’s face brightened, only to fall again.
Placing a hoof on her shoulder, Terra gave her a soft smile. “I’m sure I can work something out with my wholesalers.”
Aster smiled back—it was a much weaker smile, but a smile, nonetheless.
The device and one of the pots levitated off of the table. The latter settled onto the ground in front of Aster, but the former continued to hover with the strap bent into a semi-circle, eagerly waiting to latch on.
“Lift your hoof, please,” Twilight said, to which Aster quickly complied. Once the strap was secured, Twilight continued, her eyes flitting between the meters and Aster. “Now, if you’ll just show me this talent of yours, we can take a few measurements and draw some conclusions.”
Aster moved her hoof toward the pot, but stopped an inch away. She stared, her hoof visibly shaking.
After a few seconds, Stalwart Stone moved forward and pressed his muzzle into her forelock. She looked up at him.
“It’s okay. I—” he glanced over at Terra. “We’re here for you. No matter what, you’re still the filly we know and love.”
With a slow nod, Aster breathed deep and placed her hoof against the remains of the plant. For a good ten seconds, nothing happened, even as the magic part of Twilight’s meter rapidly rose.
Finally, the twig flashed a vibrant green, before becoming a solid brown. It grew a little, but with each fraction of an inch, Aster’s forehead became exponentially more soaked. At last, she gave up and the colour faded away, leaving the plant as it originally was. Both Terra and Stalwart Stone stared in amazement, while Twilight was busy making notes.
“Was that good enough?” Aster panted.
“Yes. But in order to have enough data points, I’ll have to ask you to do it a couple more times. Not right now, of course. Take your time to catch your breath,” Twilight spoke quickly, but also with a sort of measured restraint. I supposed that last sentence wouldn’t seem very sincere if it sounded like she was rushing Aster.
“Okay…”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Stalwart Stone asked.
“We need to in order to get a proper assessment of Aster’s situation,” Twilight replied, tapping her quill against what had already become a small stack of papers. “But if the readings become dangerous, we’ll abort immediately.”
Aster ended up needing about half an hour between readings, and even then, by the end of the fourth reading, she looked positively exhausted.
The gears in Twilight’s head were turning as she eyed her notes. “Well, the good news is that so far, none of the readings are dangerously far above average.”
“So far?! You mean we’re not done?” Terra looked alarmed as her eyes drifted over to Aster.
“No, we’re done for today.” Twilight shook her head. She hid it well, but I was fairly certain she’d hoped to go a little longer. “To do more would push Aster too far. However, four points is hardly conclusive. So I’d like to try something else.”
“What do you propose?” Stalwart Stone asked.
The dual monitor detached from Aster’s hoof and floated over to Terra.
“Take this home with you and get a reading twice every day for the next month. By then, we should have enough data. Of course, if any of the readings end up in this red zone here, stop what you’re doing and come see me.”
Terra turned to Stalwart Stone. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”
Stalwart Stone smiled. “I look forward to it.”
I couldn’t help but grin, concluding that this must be how Terra feels when she’s matchmaking.
---
With all the excitement in the last how many months, it was rare that Night and I got to have a date that didn’t involve the Seapony. So when he asked if I wanted to go to the May Flowers Celebration Dance with him, I jumped at the chance.
Granted, I have to admit that I have a bit of a bias toward spring celebrations. There’s just something about the freshness and renewal of the environment that puts me in a better mood. And what better way to put that mood to use than to celebrate?
Since the event was semi-formal, I had to break out one of my few dresses. One of the nice things about a rural city like Ponyville is that hardly anyone cares if someone wears the same dress twice. Still, I liked to at least spice things up a little, and one of the best ways that didn’t destroy my budget was to rotate accessories. This time, my gold-trimmed, red dress was accompanied by a white-rosed pin and a red-rosed barrette.
The Apples are always kind enough to lend one of their fields to the event. While we could have had it in Town Hall, a spring festival almost demands that it be outdoors.
Night was surprisingly eager to get out onto the dance floor. If someone had told the me observing him hiding at the back of every weather meeting that he would be the first out to the floor at a dance event with hundreds of people, I would have called them crazy. And yet, there he was, doing just that.
The newness of his technique was obvious, even to someone as amateur as myself, but there was also a very earnest enjoyment. I got the impression that he’d secretly taken lessons for my benefit, but found himself enraptured by his new hobby. Between focusing on me and the dance itself, I’d wager he forgot the crowd was even there. Even when Pinkie stepped in for her traditional DJing shift, the tempo of which threw Night for a loop, he seemed relatively in his element.
Of course, enthusiasm can only stave off exhaustion for so long, and we soon found ourselves rather hungry. And while the food provided was nice, a lot of it was the sort of junky snack food that wasn’t especially substantial.
So we headed back into town and I picked the first sandwich shop I recognized. It was a pleasant local restaurant with a large patio and candles—the perfect place for some springtime romance.
Once we were seated, Night let out a long breath. “I’m starving. I didn't expect dancing to be so, um, exhausting.”
I giggled. “I don’t think that was the dancing so much as it was Pinkie Pie. She can have that effect on ponies.”
Night started going through his menu. “Maybe. I haven’t spent much time around her. Not since I first moved into town.”
“No? That’s a shame. She’s not always so silly and hyperactive. She can be a really great friend.” I smiled a little as I counted all the times she’d lifted my spirits—especially when Twilight had gone missing.
“Maybe I’ll have to stop by Sugar Cube Corner more often. Dusky? Are you alright?”
I blinked away my daydream. “Oh. Err, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking back on a good memory of a rough time.”
“Oh. S-sorry.” Night looked away.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” I gave him a reassuring smile.
He smiled back, though a sigh escaped his lips. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wish you had less of the bad, and more of the good.”
“There’s been a lot of bad.” I reached across the table. “But the good has all been wonderful.”
Night placed his hooves around mine, a slight frown forming on his face. “If it were up to me, it would all be wonderful for you.”
I met his gaze. “That would be nice. But life simply isn’t that easy.”
“It... it’s not that easy, no. Doesn't mean it’s not worth fighting for.”
The day was coming to an end and I pondered what Night and I could do after supper. Perhaps cuddling up with a book would be nice. Or, given how the dance had gone, we’d more likely just cuddle up and pass out.
It was then that I noticed that someone was galloping down the road, her green coat highlighted by the falling light. I squinted, trying to make out the rest of her features. “Is that Starshadow?”
Before Night could answer, Star was already upon us, weaving her way through the tables. “My apologies for interrupting but there is an issue. Merriweather is missing, and all evidence points to a rather disturbing conclusion. I require your help.”
Her worry was visible to a degree I’d never seen. A knot formed in my stomach.
“Missing? What's going on?” Night’s face told me he’d clearly picked up on it too.
I glanced between the two of them. “We should let the restaurant have their table back before we talk.”
We paid as quickly as we could, then started down the road. But this wasn’t the road to the Seapony—it took us out of town. We traveled in silence until, at last, there was no one to be seen.
“I fear that my sister has left for home,” Star said. “She has has been quite concerned about recent events. I apologize, Night Flurry, but she blames herself for your current...condition.”
Night shrunk a little. “It’s alright, Star. She shouldn’t blame herself.”
“Regardless, she does.” Star stopped to look back at us. She seemed lost, perhaps for the first time since I’d known her. “I felt the same about the incident with Terrabona. Sister and I don’t belong here. I fear that our presence here in Equestria has done more harm than good.”
I shook my head. “Everyone makes mistakes, and you and Merriweather have both worked hard to make up for it. You’re both our friends, and at the very least, I know I wouldn’t be here if not for you two.”
“I appreciate that a great deal, Dusky. I have felt something akin to ‘belonging’ here for the first time in years, ever since we departed from our homeland.” Star closed her eyes. “I have done my best not to dwell on my feelings, and friends such as you have been a welcome surprise here in my time in Equestria. However, now the circumstances of our departure are terribly relevant. For Merriweather, I fear fatally so.”
People began to appear again, so we walked in silence until we reached Whitetail Woods.
Star stared straight ahead as she moved. “My sister had long been something of an embarrassment to the Royal Court. Her behavior had been unbecoming for one of her ability. But, she is my sister, and I love her, so I found ways to temper her enthusiasm. The spell which I erringly cast upon Terrabona was one example. The incident which prompted her banishment was the last in a line of incidents which could not be ignored.”
I glanced at Night. Given Merriweather’s disposition, I thought I had a pretty good idea of just what trouble she’d gotten into. “I don’t think there’s a need to go into detail of what she did.”
We reached a clearing where a small section of debris had been clearly cleaned up, leaving room to perform a strenuous activity or two. It was in this section that Star stopped and opened her bag. A heavy book, with a lock that had no physical key slot, hovered to the ground.
“I quite agree, and I did not inquire too deeply into the nature of her activities. But I fear that her recent behavior has cast the exact circumstances of her relationship with Firetail into question.”
“Er... Firetail?” Night asked.
“Firetail was a low-level delegate to the Royal Court. Not terribly important, in the grand scheme of things, but he was regarded as…” Star tapped a hoof against her chin, “hmm... handsome. And he had some affinity for my sister.”
“I take it she returned that, um... affinity?” Night blushed as he caught on to what I’d already suspected.
“When their affair came into the public light, Firetail accused her of several terrible things, many of which I could not believe my sister would do, but Merri offered no defense. Queen Papaya couldn’t look past it, despite my appeals. I had never received the whole story, until…” Star flipped to a specific page and pressed a hoof to one of the passages.
I stepped closer, giving it a careful read. The guy sounded like a real winner under that standard political mask. “He was blackmailing her?”
Sitting on her haunches, Star let out a sigh. “From what I read in her journal, it is now my belief that Firetail selected Merri specifically. She was a dupe he thought he could blackmail. Perhaps they did consummate, but regardless, his accusations were made knowing the court would not listen to Merri’s protests. Instead, she remained silent and accepted the court’s decision to banish her. I would not part with her, and so we left Ostfriesen. I assumed this was all there was to the story, and I did not wish to pry further into my sister’s embarrassment.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if Merriweather knew just how much Star cared. To essentially give up her own life to keep her sister safe was certainly a non-trivial decision. Then again, maybe she’d chosen to act alone for precisely that reason—if this conspiracy was as messy as it sounded, Star could easily get caught up in the collateral.
“But now you’ve broken into her diary. What changed?”
As she stared down at the book, Star’s voice barely remained neutral. “Since we learned of Bellerophon, Merriweather has been quite insistent that she needed to return to Ostfriesen in search of answers. I did not understand why she was so adamant that we could find our solution back at home. In our talk with Bellerophon, it seemed to confirm whatever thought she had, and though I believed I had talked her out of this course, it seems I was wrong.”
“Sh-she went back to Ostfriesen? B-but... if she’s been banished... what will they do to her? What does she think she can find?” Night fidgeted.
I continued to read, sifting through many of Merriweather’s lewder thoughts to distill the facts. “I think I’m starting to see it. She says here that she stole Bellerophon’s bracer from Firetail.”
Star nodded. “If she was simply trying to return home, there are things I could do to mitigate the damage if I could get there in time. Instead, it seems that Firetail was more than I assumed. Not a simple delegate or even a blackmailer. He is a member of the Descendants of the Justicar, and I fear she intends to seek them out.”
“Err…” Night stared off into the distance for a moment—it was that same look he got whenever Bellerophon became involved. “Bellerophon. He, um... he wants to know what Descendants of the Justicar means?”
A deep frown formed on Star’s face. “I had hoped he could tell me. They were the ones in possession of his bracer. According to Sister’s diary, before we departed, she went to confront Firetail one last time. I cannot say what her intention was, if she had real feelings, desired revenge, or had some other plan in mind, but regardless, it seems the encounter ended with her stealing the bracer. In her diary, Merriweather seems quite pleased with herself, believing he had stolen the bracer from the Royal Castle, and stealing it back seemed an appropriate farewell to a thief.”
“But that’s not the case, is it?” As I glanced at Night, I realized that this must have been planned to some degree. If not him, some other poor soul would have been saddled with the bracer. “The bracer was theirs. They were planning to bring Bellerophon back.”
Star nodded. “That has become my conclusion as well. Merriweather did not show the bracer to me until we had already passed beyond Ostfriesen’s borders. She told me it had been a gift from a particularly generous lover, and she herself did not recognize the historical significance. I had my doubts that such a valuable relic would be a gift, but once again, I chose not to question my sister. Her behavior has always been unusual, but she has never wanted to hurt others. Firetail told her that the Descendants of the Justicar would have their revenge. And so would Broken Tooth.”
Night was lost inside himself again. “Descendants of... err, Star? Bellerophon says he was the Justicar, but... they can’t be his descendants.”
“I know nothing more, sadly. Only what Bellerophon himself told us. But now you see the train of thought which has lead me to my conclusion." Star motioned toward the journal. "Dusky, observe the next page.”
Dread filled me as I turned the page. There was nothing there but a few torn nubs. I didn’t know if that was better or worse than something damning. “There are pages missing.”
“I suspect Merriweather ripped them out, so that I could not follow her. It is why I need to ask your help. And his help. I need to know where these... ‘Descendants of the Justicar’ would be. And then I need to find them. And if this causes Merriweather any more pain,” Her expression darkened. "I will see it returned tenfold.”
I frowned. There was still so little of this that made sense. It was a definite possibility that the Descendants were lying around their parentage, or simply taking the identity by proxy. But for someone who had little notoriety among even the natives of the country, I had to wonder what they stood to gain. It’s not like people would suddenly rally around some historical figure they’d never even heard of. Then again, perhaps these Descendants knew something very key that we didn’t.
Regardless, I knew I had to do something to help Star and Merriweather. The hard part would be figuring out how.
Despite Star’s frighteningly aggressive zeal, the uncertainty in the air was palpable. Our leads boiled down to a council that Merriweather would almost assuredly avoid and put us several steps behind her; a scumbag politician who would likely be guarded and uncooperative; and an underground organization Star hadn’t even heard of until now. We needed to be more proactive than that.
Night and I shared a glance. Bellerophon had to know more—perhaps not about the Descendants themselves, but about the things they may have fixated on. After all, he should know himself better than anyone. If we could find those, there just might be a yet-unseen trail for us to take advantage of. In fact, having Bellerophon himself confront them could have significant weight in defusing the entire situation.
We all knew it, but no one said anything. The more we tapped into Bellerophon, the more Night was at risk. And what if the permanent solution required Bellerophon’s continuous presence? That thought alone made it painful to look at Night.
This was a fine line—a passage between a rock and hard place in an avalanche zone.
“I… I don’t know,” Night said at last. There was an invisible weight on his withers, pressing him toward the ground.
Star snorted, though it lacked real anger. “I see. I shall find them myself.”
The answer felt prepared, like she couldn’t even bring herself to ask this of Night. Were he to volunteer it, I suspected she would accept in a heartbeat. However, she was perfectly willing to take what she could get and go.
I shook my head. “Wait, Star. Of course we’ll help, but it’s not that easy. Night and I are not as strong as you, and we have to consider that Bellerophon’s help still comes with complications.”
Night was nodding the entire time, his attention clearly within his mind. “Yeah… I’ll help. I just…”
He continued to nod, the motion becoming shorter and more miniscule until it was gone. A frown formed on his lips before he spoke again, “If you want to deny her, be sure she knows it’s you turning her down. Dusky and I will help her regardless.”
I tensed, bracing myself for the incoming sight. It didn’t help. As Night’s body stiffened and Bellerophon closed his eyes, I felt that same panic, that disdain. Even though I had his word, there was a part of me that just couldn’t let it go.
Bellerophon’s reply was chillingly cold, “As he said. I will not help.”
Star met his coldness. “Why?”
“Because I owe you, your sister, your country, nothing. You are the legacy of betrayal.” He glanced at me, ears drooping when he saw my frown. “And, certainly, I could not assist without risking the bearer.”
I watched him carefully. “She’s not asking you to wage a war. Just... tell us where these ‘Descendants’ might be hiding.”
In my mind, I added that if this situation somehow escalated far enough to reach war, three people would have little chance of providing significant opposition to an army, anyway.
Bellerophon clenched Night’s jaw tight, as though the words might escape on their own. “There’s only one place it could be. The Forge.”
Star’s eyes narrowed. “I have never heard of such a place within Ostfriesen.”
“Likely not. It was abandoned after Tapioca and I signed our peace.” Bellerophon turned Night’s gaze my way. “You say this is not a call to war, but get involved, and we may very well find our hooves are forced. The Forge is a place where one builds an army. A fortress built into the caldera of a dormant volcano. When I ruled, my best unicorn artificers harnessed the magic there to forge weapons and armor. Once Ostfriesen united, I personally saw it deconstructed.”
I frowned. The space between that rock and hard place was quickly diminishing.
“Then, why would this be where the Descendants would gather?” Star pawed at the ground.
Bellerophon looked away. “Because, before I died, it is where I led Broken Tooth. If this is all his doing, then that is surely where he has been all these years.”
Star’s expression hardened. “Then, I shall go to this Forge, and I shall find my sister.”
Pain and uncertainty leaked out onto Night’s face, where it remained for some time. Whatever Bellerophon was thinking, it must have been intense.
Finally, he regained himself and spoke, “I will guide you there. It seems one way or another, I was intended to return to the Forge.”
Taking a deep breath, Star’s expression returned to a more familiar neutral. She nodded cordially. “Thank you, Lord Bellerophon.”
Night shuddered and his posture shifted, thankfully, marking Bellerophon’s departure. He glanced at me. “Y-You’re sure you're okay with this?”
“So long as you are, yeah.” I sighed. “This is important. And we can’t just leave Merriweather.”
“Thank you.” Star’s eyes turned skyward. “Ostfriesen is a difficult trek for the unprepared, and Merriweather already has a head start. Meet me here again tomorrow at dawn and we shall set out immediately.”
“R-right. We’ll find her, Starshadow. We’ll find her.” Night looked exhausted. I had to wonder just how much chatting he and Bellerophon had done inside his head. Slipping up beside Night, I nuzzled into his mane. Even if I couldn’t put his mind at ease, I could remind him that I was there for him.
---
I hated pulling Terra away from Aster. There’s no way Aster could miss that something was up, and it was pretty much a given that Stalwart Stone would pick up on Terra’s worry. It almost seemed cruel, knowing that I was going to ask Terra to keep things on the down low. But there was no time to beat around the bush. We had only the night to prepare and rest up before we embarked on one of the most difficult journeys in the world.
As I led her into one of the Seapony’s back rooms, dread filled my stomach. I wasn’t sure if the rooms' growing reputation as the harbingers of bad news would make her more or less likely to have a heart attack.
“Dusky? What is this all about? Is it the…” Terra swallowed, “...Cartel again?”
I shook my head, though a small part of me almost wished that it was. If nothing else, at least the Cartel was a familiar foe. “No, nothing to do with them.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Terra breathed out. “If this is about Aster, I’ve been keeping a close eye on her and doing what Twilight asked.”
“No, not that either.” Drawing in a deep breath, I looked Terra in the eye. “Tomorrow, I leave for Ostfriesen.”
Terra froze, her jaw slowly working itself back into usefulness. “Ostfriesen?! What?! What?!! Dusky, that’s all the way across the Badlands!”
“I know, but—”
She leaned forward, giving me a frenzied look. “The Badlands!”
“Terra.” I placed a forehoof on her shoulder.
She jumped a little, then her eyes shot down to my hoof. They locked on and she stared as though I’d never touched her before. “What?”
“I’m well aware of the dangers. But this isn’t a sightseeing trip. Merriweather is missing and we think she’s gone back there.”
Terra cocked her head.
“But… Merri’s from Ostfriesen, isn’t she? What’s weird about going home?” She furrowed her brow, then grumbled, “Also, why does she have to live on the other side of a death trap?”
I couldn’t help but smirk a bit. “Same reason we live beside one, I guess. Anyway, the whole thing’s a bit complicated. But the long and short of it is that she didn’t come to Equestria on a mere whim. Because of a run-in with some unsavory people, she was banished.”
“Banished? Merri? No way!”
“There’s more. Night ended up with something from Ostfriesen that has errant magical properties. This has caused him more than a couple problems, and, well, Merriweather might think those who got her banished know something.”
Terra slumped, suddenly looking tired. “Merri… Why does this stuff always happen? Why can’t it be a broken hinge or… or a late shipment? Why does somepony’s life always have to be on the line?”
I sat down beside her. “I’m sorry, Terra. I ask myself that a lot and… if I’m being honest, if I’d been less reckless, there’d be less of that. But the rest, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me. Or Ponyville. Or the Everfree. It’s like there’s just something that attracts these things.”
“Life is strange.” Terra’s voice was lost, flat, even.
“Yeah. That’s why I want to let you know instead of just disappearing like last time.”
“I appreciate it.” Terra looked down. She chewed on her words a moment, but they came out all at once. “Because you might not be back?”
“What?” I blinked.
Terra’s eyes were a mix of sorrow and anger. “We both know what this trip means, and you have to make it twice. You’re saying this so I don’t have to wonder if you don’t make it back.”
“Well, nothing is certain, but no. I’m telling you so you don’t have to w—” I cleared my throat, tossing that old cliche aside. “So that you can worry less. Rest assured that I don’t plan to die out there.”
I tried to give her a confident smile, though Terra was at least half-right. Even considering my extensive traveling experience, Star’s presence and Bellerophon’s expertise, there was really no other way to put it: the prospect of crossing the Badlands scared the shit out of me.
A resigned sigh escaped Terra’s lips as she kicked a hoof. “I hate this, waiting and wondering if my friends will come back or not. I wish… I wish I could be heroic, like you.”
I shook my head. “It’s not heroic. Merriweather’s all alone and in danger. It’s what anyone would do.”
“No, Dusky. That’s… that’s just semantics,” Terra shivered, her eyes following something invisible on the wall in front of us. “I could never do this. As much as I wish I could, I’m just a shopkeep. Even the idea of fighting somepony to the death terrifies me. The way I see it, this is all complete madness.”
Part of me wanted to object, to say that it terrified me too, but that wasn’t quite the truth. It still scared me, of course, but at some point that I couldn’t remember, life-and-death combat had somehow become something I was used to. And I think that is what truly terrifies me.
“Terra…” I leaned over and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’m sorry. Even though you might feel helpless, know that your support gives me strength. What you do, it’s as valuable as any weapon.”
She sighed again as she returned the hug. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. So why just me? Am I… am I supposed to tell Mahogany?”
“No. Night has that covered. Time is of the essence, so we split up to make sure we covered all of our bases. I’d also prefer the exact details be kept discreet. You can tell Blizzard or Blaze if you happen to run into them, but keep it away from public ears.”
Terra scrunched her face. “Blaze? That’s one of your Guard friends, right?”
“She’s still a trainee, but yes, more or less.”
“I guess I can do that.” Terra’s nod was slow, her mind wandering back to the walls. After a moment, she snapped to, determination growing on her face. “Dusky, let me help you.”
“Terra?” I raised an eyebrow. My mind was already at work, thinking of ways to talk her out of coming, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized her tone didn’t seem quite right.
She paced a bit. “Maybe I can’t fight beside you, but I do own a store. I’m sure I must have a few things that will make this easier for you.”
The Badlands were quiet, almost deathly so, with much of the fauna that dared to live here content to make rather muted sounds. The ground was hard, cracked and barren. What few plants the land could muster huddled up against the equally sparse rock formations. The dusty brown columns and hills were very tall, providing a small, but blessed, relief from the choking, energy-sapping winds. Though the shelter was welcome, the rocks were often arranged so haphazardly that I was worried a strong gust might collapse them upon us. On top of that, their size could easily hide more than a couple predators. This was only exacerbated by my sleep deprivation. While I could remain vigilant now, I knew within a couple hours that that would wane, opening us up to potentially deadly mistakes.
However, staying up an extra hour or two had been necessary. Terra had led me to the deepest recesses of her stock room, where she’d dusted off a large wooden crate. Inside had been a veritable treasure trove of premium, unused traveling gear. Some of it was clearly a bit dated, but no less useful.
When I’d asked why her best goods weren’t out on the floor, she gave me a bit of a sad smile and said, “Just in case I ever wanted to walk the open road again. I think about it every year, but end up putting it off.”
“Terra… If, when this all settles, you want to come along this summer, you’d be more than welcome.”
She’d shaken her head, smirking a little as her eyes drifted down to the excessive pile of gear. “I guess I’ve been thinking for a lot of years now. I’m probably past that stage of my life. But if this can help you at all, I’m glad I hoarded it.”
It was my turn to shake my head, though not at her. No, I appreciated all that Terra had done, but now was not the time to be lost in recollection. Still, I took a moment to reassess what I’d taken.
There was a thick canvas tent, big enough for four people if we scooted in close; a full, stainless steel, compact cooking set; some high-durability waterskins and a heavy climbing harness. The harness was probably the most important, as Merriweather had run off with both hers and Star’s. While we were currently in a set of flats, I had to imagine the terrain wouldn’t stay that way forever. When it came to the elements and general logistics, we had a leg up.
However, that was no reason to get complacent. Terra wasn’t running an armoury, so we hadn’t gotten any help there. I had little more than my wingblade, with a second stowed away in my flight satchels. Either way, my little blade wouldn’t fare too well against large targets. Despite Star being an experienced monster hunter and Bellerophon’s undeniable power, I was very much on edge. Perhaps my own helplessness was starting to get to me.
As such, my eyes were constantly exploring the cliffs, looking for crevices of just the right size. Of course, they’d need to fit the three of us, but be short enough that a garuda’s long talons couldn’t pluck us out—as if its uncanny ability to swoop down and snatch multiple people at the same time wasn’t enough. The crevice would also need to be narrow or clearly devoid of any basilisk claw marks. Much like Everfree’s cockatrices, were we to wander into a Basilisk nest, it was unlikely anyone would ever find us. Short and narrow would also lend itself to fending off dire wolf attacks. I was certain there had to be even more things to consider, but I hadn’t had any time to do additional research on what little Equestria knew of the Badlands. What I was working off of was what, borne of morbid curiosity, I’d read about in my youth. It was only now that I wished I’d been more inquisitive.
A sudden gust cut across the desolate plains, scattering grit every which way. The two were clearly in cahoots as the former lifted my cloak so that the latter could pelt my coat. I winced, tucking my head to keep the sand out of my eyes. When the wind refused to relent, I looked up, cracking my eyes just enough to take a quick assessment.
Just as my eyes met the skyline, Night called out, “This is storm weather!”
On the very edge of the horizon, roiling brown clumps of grit had latched onto each other, intermingling until they became an ominous, shifting wall. Even though it was already massive, it continued to accumulate until what dull sunlight we had was lost entirely.
“Sandstorm! A Badlands sandstorm!” Star yelled. Her eyes were also probing the meager cliffs, but as it turned out, the storm had almost caught us out in the open. “We have about ninety seconds to find cover! Our best chance is to backtrack! Get moving!”
“Shit!” My eyes widened as my mind shuffled through the last mile. A low, crooked cave hurriedly assembled itself in my mind’s eye. It would be the perfect place to wait this out. Only problem: it was a few minutes back. “This way!”
I broke into a full gallop. Odds were that we wouldn’t have to worry too much about ambushes. Any predator would have to be insane to risk this much to attack us. Good thing too, because the landscape itself seemed pretty intent on fighting us. The hardened ground was suddenly very gritty and crumbly in all the wrong places. The number of times I just about face-planted almost tempted me into spreading my wings and trying to let the wind carry me. It might have even worked, if my goal was to be thrashed across the ground like a tumbleweed.
Despite the difficulties, I did my best to modulate my pace, keeping an eye behind me to ensure Night and Star were no more than ten feet away. I refused to let anyone disappear into the swirling sands. Not now, not ever.
After what felt like hours of scrambling through the grit, my legs felt like they might give out. But the blessed sight of that crooked cave renewed my strength. Powering through, I reached the entrance. Even just standing at the mouth, the absence of the wind made my body feel like it had just shed a two-hundred-pound weight.
As I turned to wave Night and Star in, I got my first good glimpse of the sandstorm’s progression. What had previously been brown puffs had consolidated into something that looked more like a solid cliff face—one that could collapse upon us at any second.
“Hurry! It’s almost here!” I could have sworn I was yelling, but even to myself, I sounded like I was speaking into a burlap sack.
With the immediate danger dealt with, I turned my attention to the danger that was slightly less immediate. I sniffed at the air, following a few of the scents to the floor and the walls. There were quite a few strange smells mingled with the usual cave mustiness, but nothing that suggested something had claimed it. We didn’t have to go far to realize why. Or rather—we couldn’t go far.
The cave was claustrophobically small, consisting of no more than an L-shape with the short end at the back. It was everything I’d been looking for, which made it great for the monster attacks that never happened, but less preferable for the current situation. Sand would still occasionally bounce in off the walls, especially when the winds shifted east. Additionally, we couldn’t go deep enough to dampen the sound by more than a token amount.
Amidst the deafening roar, I could hardly keep my wings still. Uncontrollable weather was generally an accepted part of a weather worker’s job. And yet, I don’t think I know anyone who isn’t bothered by the Everfree’s. Typical wild weather was one thing—where one person might not be enough, a large and organized enough team could generally put it to bed. But the Everfree was different. Stuff that wandered beyond the forest’s border was easy, sometimes even trivial, to dissipate. But go just twenty feet into its borders and everything becomes fiercer, immovable, almost… malevolent.
The Everfree had always been a sore point for every member of the Weather Bureau. Perhaps it has to do with the ancestry of us pegasus members, but there was this intrinsic urge to defy and rise to the challenge—a sort of weather pride, might be the best way to describe it. The Badlands’s weather carried the same vibe, and with it, a similar inkling.
The urge filled my wings, but I fought it back. If I were to go out there, I had little doubt that the gusts would tear my wings right off—and that was before taking into account the damage done by a one-hundred-mile-per-hour wall of sandpaper. In fact, with the way the cave was groaning, I almost expected the storm to burst through the wall like a horror villain.
Night seemed to be holding out a little better. While I caught the occasional wing twitch, he almost appeared calmer than usual. Perhaps it had to do with constantly being the sole person dealing with the night watch and its large helping of renegade weather.
Despite our pegasus problems, Star looked to be the worst off. Even in the confines of the cave, she’d found a way to pace. It was perfectly understandable, of course. If Merriweather was clear of the storm, the gap would widen, bringing her ever closer to other kinds of trouble. If she somehow wasn’t, she was alone while having to deal with this monstrosity. The no-win situation left me feeling rather sullen. I imagined Star must have felt downright sick.
“Hey, Star. Are you doing okay?” I watched her carefully.
She paused a couple beats, nodding slowly and firmly. “I am… fine. It is just the storm.”
I wanted badly to ease her mind, but with as many unknown factors as there were, I wouldn’t be able to say anything with any level of assurance. At best, my words would ring hollow. At worst, they’d worry her further. Finally, I settled on helping her focus that energy into improving our odds for the future.
“So, is there anything more you can tell us about Ostfriesen?” I asked. “We know so little and any given detail could make the search go faster.”
Night stared at the wall for a few moments before giving me an apologetic look. “Bellerophon agrees. He wants to know what happened after he, um… left.”
Star closed her eyes. “Very well. Since Bellerophon's time, Queen Tapioca did much for the country. She ruled fairly, and established many laws to prevent her descendants from abusing their power. She created the knights to defend her people from the harshness of the land, and began to teach her people to cultivate and grow. The land prospered, and the ponies prospered, rather than wasting their energy on war.”
When he opened his mouth, Night’s voice wavered a little, as though some of Bellerophon was leaking through. There was something deeply disturbing about it, possibly even moreso than when he’d taken direct control. “That... Bellerophon says that sounds right. She cared. Apparently she cared, a lot. They didn't want anypony to die on their behalf, which is what drove them together.”
“Then, what drove them apart? May I ask, what happened?” Star’s eyes drifted over to me—she’d picked up on it too.
Night shrunk as he glanced at me. “Maybe... I shouldn't…”
“Don’t hold back on my account. It’s your body. If you’re okay with it, I’ll support your decision.”
When Night nodded, Star spent a few moments considering. “Very well, then. Lord Bellerophon, you have spoken of betrayal, but our history calls you the greatest warrior to ever breathe. You knelt before Tapioca, the final warlord to do so, and the only one to do so without a single battle fought. You are a legend, a hero, but you speak of Queen Tapioca with such disdain.”
Bellerophon took over, although something seemed a little different, as though he was restraining himself. “Over the course of our negotiations, we tried to find the greatest way to create the peace she dreamed of. In time, we complicated the matters beyond the needs of our people. Tapioca's spirit burned like a fire, fierce and unquenchable, and I found in her a pony every bit my equal. My superior in more ways than I wished to admit. Opposition turned to passion, and we became lovers.”
I almost quirked an eyebrow. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have thought Terra was the one narrating the progression of that relationship.
There was definitely something else on Star’s mind and she spoke with an odd mix of care and directness. “This makes sense, of course. Then, what was the betrayal? Surely, you must have known?”
Bellerophon clenched Night’s teeth. “I learned the news from one of the nobles. They all knew it before I did. She had announced that she was to be married. She turned her back on... on what we had... I could no longer bear to look upon her.”
“Then... you did not know. I... see.” Star cleared her throat as she looked away. “Tapioca’s suitor was a pony to whom her hoof had been promised when she was very young. He was the heir to an influential family within Ostfriesen, a family which formed the core of her army when she had begun her campaign to unify the nation.”
“A political marriage? Then why was it so rushed? Why was it kept so secret, even from me? Especially from me!” Bellerophon’s tone seemed more frustrated than downright angry. I felt I had to agree to an extent. If all he said was true, this whole situation didn’t quite fit together.
Star took a deep breath, closing her eyes again. When she opened them, they held a very serious clarity. “Because, the Queen could not risk anypony knowing the truth. A truth that has been handed down only among the Royal Family—to her direct heirs. Queen Tapioca was pregnant. The marriage needed to be done quickly, so that the heirs would be valid, and that the promises she had made would not spark a new war.”
My eyes darted between Star and Bellerophon. There was suddenly too much new information and I couldn’t decide which was more mind blowing.
“Tapioca, she…” Bellerophon slumped over. “You, are my heir?”
Star nodded. “The firstborn daughters of Tapioca were twins, the Princesses Spirit Dancer, and Mirthful Heart. They never took the title of Queen, instead choosing to rule together after their mother died. Since then, twins have always been revered in Ostfriesen as lucky. Queen Papaya can directly trace her lineage back to them. Many other Ostfriesen nobles and knights can claim some link to Tapioca, and in turn, to you.”
Bellerophon sat motionless, almost frozen in time. I wasn’t entirely sure I could blame him. To think that Star and Merriweather were descendants of the first Queen, that I’d somehow found myself in the middle of some centuries-old political drama and that this was all likely just the tip of the iceberg. Whatever we were headed toward, it was way over my head.
“Tapioca. Why didn't I let you speak. I am—I was a father... Gods, I am such a fool.” Bellerophon turned his eyes to the wall, bearing a vacancy that lingered for only a few moments before he was suddenly Night again. Tears were starting to roll down his cheeks. I couldn’t tell who had been crying—probably both.
When Night looked up, he seemed just as haggard as Bellerophon had. “I... I think he wants to be alone.”
The sandstorm, long forgotten, reasserted its presence, calling out into our cave. But we didn’t answer.
At last, Star slumped. “I did not think that would hurt him so.”
I slipped up beside Night, nuzzling into his mane. Were I able to hug Bellerophon, I think I would have at least given him that comfort. Still, if there was one upside: perhaps now he could be free of his anger. “The truth isn't always easy, but I think he needed to hear that.”
Star looked past us, her mind clearly somewhere else. “Perhaps it is time we rest. If we cannot move forward, then it is best we save up energy for when we are able to continue. I can keep first watch.”
The storm lasted long into the day, such that when it did let up, the lighting hardly changed. With Star telling us in no uncertain terms that night travel with such a small group was suicide, we were forced to kill another half-day in that cave.
Dawn brought an eerie, disconcerting scene. The Badlands sat still and unmoved, as though the sandstorm had never happened. I’d expected to see a few new dunes or even some random debris, but there was none to be found. If it wasn’t for the small mounds that had accumulated in the mouth of our cave, I’d have wondered if we’d just hallucinated the sandstorm’s existence. Instead, I got this strange feeling that the land itself was sending me a message: danger like this is so common that everything shrugs it off and goes about their day.
The dirt ground noisily beneath my hooves as I stepped out into the alien landscape. Star took the lead again, with such undaunted ease that I quickly became convinced that I was the real alien here.
Night seemed about as hesitant as I, and I had to wonder if maybe the lack of aftermath bothered him even more. But we had little time to waste being spooked by weather that was already gone, so we pressed forward.
The sun was even more oppressive than the previous day and that made me fear for our water supply. We needed to take frequent breaks—that much was unavoidable—but if we were to suffer too many setbacks like the sandstorm, then my preparations could prove too conservative. As such, I began to keep an eye out for errant clouds to milk. Unsurprisingly, the Badlands was unwilling to oblige.
When the path broke out into a salt flat, I thought I might cry. The parched white expanse stretched out like a carpet of chalk with a smattering of glitter where the sun hit it just right. There wasn’t even a rock taller than my leg for miles, nor any sort of cloud cover. Granted, this meant that nothing could approach us without being seen, but if it was dangerous enough, all that would do is give us time to sit there looking dumb before it devoured us.
“Are you sure about this, Star? This place doesn’t seem very defensible.” As I stared out over the flats, I supposed we had one objectively good thing going for us: the trail had already been carved out and marked. Even if the poles were crooked and haphazard, with tattered orange flags feebly clinging to the ends, it was still something—enough that we probably wouldn’t fall into a hidden quagmire and suffocate, anyway. Probably.
“I know it may not look it,” Star replied, “but this is one of the safest routes I know, simply because it is more dangerous for the monsters than for us.”
“It is?” Night squinted at the landscape. “How?”
“This region is filled with deadly pitfalls. Pitfalls that have been marked out by our expert cartographers. However, the monsters are either unaware or unable to utilize our markers. As such, the majority of species have learned not to enter the Ghostly Fields. Those foolish enough to do so are very unlikely to reach us.”
“Oh.” Night swallowed hard. I had to admit that, while Star made sense, her words weren’t entirely encouraging.
“Okay, that’s… fair enough, I guess.” I shook my head, pushing away visions of creatures drowning in mud. “But what about creatures that don’t care about the quagmires?”
“That is somewhat more problematic.” Star looked down, a sigh escaping her lips. “While we currently lack the benefit of an archer, I am confident that, between my horn and your wings, the fliers of this region would regret attacking us.”
As much as I wanted to believe Star, I wondered if she wasn’t overestimating Night’s and my combat abilities. “I don’t know. Do you really think we could take on a garuda?”
Star shook her head and pointed a hoof at the distant, eastern mountains. “One would not dare come this close to the Wyvern Peaks. The wyverns might be smaller, but they are fiercely territorial of their airspace and would not hesitate to mob a garuda. Conversely, easier prey is found on and around the base of the mountains. At worst, we might attract the attention of one or two errant hunters. Of course, were we to try going through the Peaks themselves, it would be a different story. Incidentally, it is for this reason that, if we wanted to go around the Ghostly Fields, we would also have to go around the Peaks—a one-hundred-mile lateral journey.”
Part of me wished I’d made Star sit down and map out the entire route with me, that I might have been able to prepare for these specific dangers or even insisted that we plan out much safer detours. But at the same time, this was Star’s homeland.
I nodded slowly, taking time to gather my words. “Okay. Sorry for doubting you, Star. I just had to be sure haste wasn’t getting the better of us. Lead on.”
Mirroring my nod, Star gave me a bit of a smile before starting down toward the first flag. I glanced at Night, who still looked uncertain, but as he met my gaze, his legs found the will to move forward. We quickly rejoined Star and followed close behind as she navigated the poles.
Star was right and the flat was generally devoid of monsters. After an hour of little more than a few fleeting shadows, I was feeling much better about the trail. Still, I kept an eye out, in case of terrain deformation or suicidally bold creatures.
Another hour passed before I felt the first tremor. It was so subtle—just the barest vibration of salt—that I suspected I might be imagining things. But the next couple were unmistakable. The next few after that, alarming.
We all stood frozen, eyes flitting between each other. I darted toward Star, shouting, “Night! Help me get Star into the a—!”
Then the ground exploded.
Somehow, the salt beneath me stayed intact long enough to take me several feet into the air. I was barely able to spread my wings before the makeshift platform crumbled away. Time slowed down as I tumbled through the tornado of dust and debris. A splotch of green and then I was acting on instinct.
I gritted my teeth as I dove, weathering the barrage of needle-like dirt. Shortness of breath became none at all as Star crashed into my back. But I couldn’t afford to let up—especially with both of our lives on the line. I don’t know where I found the strength, but I flapped harder than I’d ever flapped, flipping us around to get a look at the force of nature that had nearly buried us.
The creature was a pure mass of terror. It looked something like an armadillo—if armadillos were ten feet long, had stolen draconic features for its lower body and had scales so large that they appeared more like plated barding.
It was already rearing up on its hind legs, parting the chunks of rock as though they were water. One of the forelegs was already swinging down, a claw as wide as my head coming straight for my face. I strained to get clear, but my body was sluggish and heavy, while the monster tracked me with just enough precision to keep pace. I was a sitting duck, just waiting to be cleft in two.
“Eyes closed!” Star yelled right into my ear.
Even if I’d had breath to protest, there would have been no time to argue. All I could do was trust that she knew what she was doing. What followed was so searingly bright that I swore I could see straight through my eyelids. Rivalling the intensity of the light was a guttural screech, accompanied by several loud crunches that seemed to be moving away from us. Grimacing, I struggled to hold us steady, lest I nosedive straight into the ground.
Once my eyes stopped being full of reddish grey, I cracked a lid. Spots crowded my vision, but I could still make out a blue blur dashing toward the creature. One of its legs came crashing down, but the blue seemed rather unconcerned as it slid out of the way, then used one of the claws as a footstool. Although I felt more than a little relieved, my heart sank as it became more and more obvious that Bellerophon was in control.
“Dusky! Steady!” Star’s voice broke me from my trance.
I was sagging heavily to my left and as I tried to level off, I realized that it was an impossible task. My wings were shaking, already well beyond their limit. Our descent was a half-glide, half-drop as I tried to steer us toward one of the markers.
My legs gave out as we landed, sending us into a skid. At some point, I could no longer feel Star. Then I was tumbling, choking dust infiltrating my lungs. Finally, there was the sky, though black edges were creeping up on it.
Blinking a couple times, I forced the darkness away, scrambling to my hooves at a speed that I was certain would look comical to anyone observing.
I was just in time to see Bellerophon send Night sailing through the air, plunging his hoofblade between the creature’s plates. Another screech filled the air as the creature spun. Bellerophon stepped back, easily avoiding getting hooked and trampled before ducking under the flailing hind leg.
My heart stopped as it continued to spin.
“The tail! Look out for the tail!” I called out, but I don’t think he heard me. The impact swept him aside with blinding force.
Suddenly, my blade was on my wing and I was charging forward with renewed strength. I didn’t know what I could do; even assuming a solid hit between the plates, I doubted it would be any more effective than the hoofblade. But I did know one thing: I couldn’t let it follow up on Night.
I stole a glance at him as I dashed by. He was on his side, but doing his damnedest to shake off that blow.
By the time I reached the creature, it had finished turning around. At that moment, staring down a muzzle that was larger than I was, I realized that this was an even worse idea than I’d initially imagined. But I was committed. Backing down now would probably get both Night and I crushed. So, with a deep, deep breath, I leapt into the air, flapping a few times to throw me to the side—a good thing too, because those jaws snapped forward, engulfing where I was.
Seeing an opportunity, I whirled, bringing my blade wing around to slash at its mouth. It wasn’t an especially clean hit, but I did catch the flesh somewhere, sending a bit of blood spraying across the ground. If the screech was anything to go off of, I’d basically succeeded in making it more pissed off. I stepped back, waiting for the onslaught.
Left claw. Right claw. Jaws. Left coming around again. Tail!
Keeping my distance made it easy to see things coming, but any semblance of offense was well out of my reach. The way I’d been taught to fight, this would normally be a losing prospect. However, my repertoire for encounters with ten-foot-long monsters consisted of ‘run like hell’ and ‘hide’, so I may have been improvising with the whole ‘buying time’ thing. Each time several-hundred pounds of raw death came inches from removing my head, I really hoped it had been long enough for everyone else to figure something out.
The next bite came so close that I was convinced its rancid breath was going to melt me. While I was busy trying to keep my balance without losing my lunch, Bellerophon came soaring down, slashing at the creature’s eyes. Unfortunately, the creature’s eyelids were much faster than the rest of it. Without missing a beat, he kicked off of its muzzle, returning to the sky. He kept just in front of it in a way that had to be deliberate. Sure enough, it reared up, claws poised.
Star galloped up beside me, now armed with a hoofblade, red tongues of fire licking off its edge. She gave me a meaningful look before motioning to a point near the middle of the creature’s chest. The plan was risky, but unless we hit something vital, there was no winning this fight.
When I nodded, she held up her hoofblade. As Star’s horn blazed with magic, she chanted. “Magic flames, heed my call! Burn as bright as dragon fire!”
I thought it odd, almost uncharacteristic of Star to say something like that, but with each word, the fire grew larger and fiercer. By the time she finished, the blade itself was almost washed out by the emerald green.
Spreading my wings, I stooped down so Star could get on my back again. My eyes flitted up, hoping to Celestia that we wouldn’t lose our opportunity. However, Bellerophon was keeping it busy, fighting as evasively as I had.
Once I felt Star’s extra weight, I flapped as hard as I could, aiming to get us in and out as soon as possible. I still had to be careful. While the creature was unaware of our movements, the wild thrashing would crush us if it connected. Finally, after the second pass, I was able to weave into a good approach. It almost seemed too good to be true.
But as we reached the point Star had indicated, she thrust out her blade. It met resistance at first and that nearly threw me off balance. However, after a second, the creature’s softer under-scales distorted and fell away, allowing the blade to enter its chest with a sickening sizzle. One last screech rang through the air, falling away to nothingness about halfway. The creature stepped back, turning toward us with a claw raised.
I dove, quickly darting away on its other side. Turned out my maneuver was unnecessary, as the creature stumbled backward one more time. With a creak and a groan, the ground exploded again. But this time, it was more of a collapse, the rising dust sucking the creature down. The entirety of the Ghostly Fields seemed to shake as one final thud echoed out.
Then there was nothing—just silence.
As I glided back to the ground, I kept my distance. I could not rest until I saw the corpse myself. Once Star climbed off my back and Bellerophon landed beside me, we all shared a look that told me we were of the same mind.
Ages passed while the salt-sand mix lingered in the air. But slowly, surely, the silhouette of the creature materialized. Most of its body was sunk into the ground, the places where the salt had given way forming a jagged perimeter. The head was resting sideways on the surface, jaw halfway open with its tongue lolled out.
“Wh-where did that come from?!” Night had returned to his body.
“Yeah, what the hell, Star?” I tilted my head. “I thought you said monsters don’t come out this way.”
Star started walking toward the creature’s corpse. “They usually do not. It is very curious to find a bulette out here. Normally, they linger closer to the border between the wastes and the farmlands, making themselves a nuisance against easier targets.”
“Nuisance?” I trotted up beside her. “Star, in case you didn’t notice, that ‘bulette’ thing just about pancaked all of us.”
Her pace did not slow. “I am aware. It caught us off guard and in a small group, which—I might add—is a bit of a feat. The bulette’s tunneling capabilities make it somewhat stealthy, but they are of limited help when it comes to the quagmires out here. I am surprised it did not fall into one sooner. In any event, it would stand no chance against a standard hunting party.”
“R-really?” Night stared at Star’s blade. “Does that mean that life in Ostfriesen is always like this?”
Star stepped between the bulette’s jaws, examining a few of the large, razor-sharp teeth. “For everypony? No. For knights and their apprentices? Yes.”
Night shrunk, eyes wide as they flitted over unseen images. “Th-this is what I signed up for?”
Glancing over her shoulder, Star shook her head. “If your strength were to advance that far, perhaps. We train protectors, not fodder.”
And with that, she began sawing into the bulette’s gums with sickening vigour. As bits of gore and blood splattered to the ground, I felt my stomach churn. After a few more seconds, I had to look away. Night wasn’t so lucky, and he loudly retched his rations onto the ground. I slipped a wing across his back as I raised an eyebrow—even though Star couldn’t see it. “Ugh. Is that… is that really necessary?”
“Yes. We cannot bring the whole thing with us, so a tooth will have to do.”
“What, like a bounty?” The concept was not unknown to Equestria, especially for heavy travelers. However, those were typically on specific posters in specific areas for very specific animals. That Star would know that the tooth would be good after so long without checking in at a town did not bode well.
“Correct. As I said, bulettes are a consistent nuisance. As such, it is quite likely we can use it to fund a significant portion of our resupply.”
I sighed. “How far are we going to have to lug that thing?”
As the tooth hit the ground with a thud, Star stepped out of the bulette’s jaws and pointed past the markers. “Not far. If you look carefully, you should be able to see Fort Rhenish.”
Squinting, I eyed the mountains, which were still rather distant. A rectangular shadow sat in front of one of the shorter ones, likely affixed to the mountain itself. Guessing from the distance, it also wasn’t far from the edge of the Ghostly Fields, which only made sense. Between the quagmires and the mountains, that town had an absurd amount of natural protection.
“Huh. Well, that’s a sight for sore eyes.”
A nervous smile crept up Night’s lips. “Y-yeah. I can’t wait.”
Star stepped back onto the path, her horn glowing as the bulette’s tooth followed behind her. “Well, then let us proceed.”
---
Even though our first stop was in sight, we couldn’t afford to relax. The shadow was close, but we weren’t exactly at their gate. I’d estimated at least a couple more hours ahead of us—plenty of time for more danger. We moved slowly, keeping our eyes and ears open. Our supposedly safe death trap had already failed us once. Even if the bulette attack was a rare occurrence, the odds of another attack were still non-zero. It wouldn’t even have to be another bulette. In our weakened state, we could easily attract something a bit more opportunistic.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a thick shadow moving across the ground. Tensing, I dropped into a wider stance, preparing for the worst. As I looked up at the sky, I saw something vaguely pony-shaped, passing overhead. If I'd had to guess, I’d have said it was an armoured pegasus. The big question was: friend or foe?
Before I could even open my mouth, Star explained, “A scout has spotted us. Should anything else happen from here on out, we will have a lance of knights upon us in an instant.”
As relief washed over me, I gave her a quick nod.
Every dozen feet or so, Fort Rhenish became less and less of an indistinct blob. I hadn’t quite known what to expect, though what I got certainly shouted ‘border outpost of the mighty Ostfriesen’. Towering walls, made from some of the largest logs I’d ever seen, rose toward the sky. Sharpened points formed a row of vicious wooden teeth—the kind of warning that even a bulette should heed. An ample helping of guard towers reinforced the walls. Even at a distance, I could tell there was activity. Despite all the defenses, the heavy gate was wide open. I supposed that, between the scouts and towers, anything the gate could stop would be spotted from miles away.
As we approached the arch, I caught a glimpse of the town, which seemed comparatively small. Like the walls, the vast majority of structures were built from whole logs that still had their bark. They carried with them a sort of rough, unpolished air that reminded me of Pasture. However, the longer I looked, the more I realized that that’s where the similarities ended. Here, under that lack of polish, the buildings were sturdy and rugged. Instead of a smattering of eager militia cadets, the entire yard was filled with fighters. Many of them wore more than one weapon and their armours were brightly decorated in what I could only guess were house or clan colours. In addition to moving with the same air of confidence as Star and Merriweather, each of them openly wore teeth, feathers and more. Here, in this fortress, any monster would wish they were in the Ghostly Fields instead.
For the first time during this entire journey, I felt like we actually had a leg up.
But before we could enter, a pale orange mare, her armour polished to a mirror sheen, stopped us. “Hail, travelers. What brings you to Fort Rhenish?”
Star stood tall and answered, “I am Dame Solanum, Knight of Ostfriesen. We have come via Fort Westphalian. We had not intended to travel so far, but got sidetracked in the salt flats.”
She motioned to the tooth, still held in her magic.
“I am Dame Ignia,” the guard replied, bowing before she turned her attention to the tooth. “Odd for them to strike out in the salt flats, eh? Impressive that you were able to defeat it with your… apprentices?”
I could feel Ignia’s eyes on me, probing the finer details of my gear. Star shot Night and I a look of her own. It was probably safer to roll with it. Gathering information could become more difficult if they knew we were outsiders.
“Yes. Both quite skilled, but green. I doubt I could have killed the bulette without their assistance. For now, I am taking the beast’s appearance as a sign to get lodging for the night. We can head back on the morrow.”
Ignia nodded as she took the tooth. She spent a few moments gauging the measurements before carrying it into the nearest watchtower. When she returned, she brought a small satchel, and with it, the jingling of coins. “Current bounty is three-hundred sovereigns a head on bulettes, plus fifty bonus for killing a young adult before mating season. I trust this acceptable.”
“Very. I only need enough for housing for the three of us and to resupply our rations.” Star smiled. She seemed so at ease that, in spite of it all, I think she missed this. There was a part of me that found it hard to believe. The other part remembered the old pegasus warrior culture, as well as my own wanderlust.
With a glance at the horizon, Ignia added, “Bulettes have been encroaching intensely the past month or so. They're nothing compared to a rampant grim drake or if a bebilith comes down from the mountains, but if their population gets too big, word from the magistrate is they're going to raise it to five-hundred and let the adventurers cull them down.”
“I shall have to keep an ear to the ground if that happens. It would be excellent practice for my apprentices. Thank you, Dame Ignia.” Star got that look on her face again, as though she was really considering it. I had to wonder if, at the end of this journey, we might end up parting ways for a while.
“Fare thee well, Dame Solanum.”
Once we were clear of the gate, Star let out a sigh and half-whispered, “That went well. I had wondered how I would pass you off to them, but this shall play in our favor.”
Her words made me nervous. Was it a specific reason she had in mind? Or was it a more general precaution? I wanted so badly to ask her, but an extended conversation in the street would defeat the whole purpose of the disguise. Speaking of which, I had no idea how we were going to blend in. The Rhenish mannerisms were so different, even from Star and Merriweather, and I had no time to study them.
I tried to find something else to focus on until we could get someplace more private. “Three-hundred sovereigns sounds like quite a bit.”
Star eyed the satchel. “It is quite reasonable. Not enough to live on, but enough for what we need.”
The inn was about as rugged as any other structure in the place, but I wasn’t feeling too picky. I’d stayed in more than my fair share of bare-bones hotels before—not to mention that we’d just spent the previous night huddled in the back of a cave.
Once we were inside, it became clear that the place had all the standard stuff: a hearth, several sets of tables that ringed said hearth and a small bar to serve both. A spectacled, light green unicorn, who was wearing something very similar to a griffon-style, black-and-white maid uniform, moved table to table.
When she saw us, she smiled, pushing up her glasses. “Welcome to the Unfettered Ale. If you're here for a meal, take a seat and I'll be with you in a moment. If you're here for a room, go speak to Hollow at the bar.”
With that, she trotted past us, a small army of dirty dishes trailing behind her. She disappeared into the kitchen before returning to collect another batch.
Star wandered over to the bar, which was attended by a unicorn stallion whose coat had an odd silvery tint to it. “We require lodging for the night. Two rooms, if possible. One for myself, and one for my apprentices.”
Night looked like he wanted to say something, but when Star glanced back at us, he thought better of it.
“Two rooms, Dame, that's easy enough.” A couple keys hovered out from behind the counter, riding a soft yellow aura. “Standard quarters, would be a-hundred-and-sixty sovereigns for the night.”
“Acceptable,” Star replied. So much for a good chunk of that prize money. A knight would have to do an awful lot of fighting to have food and a place to stay. Once she had the payment taken care of, Star turned to Night and I. “We shall settle into the rooms first. Food can come afterwards.”
Just beyond the dining room was an arch that broke off into a small hallway. Within were the doors to about a dozen tightly packed rooms.
Star opened one of the closer doors. “I know what you must be thinking, but this works best for our purpose.”
I shook my head. “You know this place better than we do. The sooner we're rested and resupplied, the faster we can find Merriweather.”
Once we were inside, I took the keys and closed the door. The room was about as simple as it could get: one chair, one desk and two boxes full of straw. I supposed they must not have any use for decor that wasn’t right on their person.
Night wandered over to one of the straw beds. He sat on his haunches, though he looked like he could have just flopped over and passed out.
“You two should rest. I will find whatever supplies I can, and also inquire about any activity that may be a lead to the Descendants of the Justicar.” Star’s eyes drifted over to Night. “Bellerophon had no knowledge of his descendants, yet this group must have taken that name for a reason.”
“If it was only known to the royal bloodline…” I tried to keep my voice as low as possible.
“Then, it is entirely possible that this conspiracy goes deep.” She looked away as she bit her lip. “But I shall be content if we find Merri before becoming involved.”
“We’ll find her, Star.” I gave her a quick hug. “Just be careful out there.”
A small smile formed on Star’s lips as she hugged me back. “I shall. Now, rest.”
And with that, she was gone.
Night continued to sit next to the bed, staring off into space. But it wasn’t the distracted look he got when he was conversing with Bellerophon. No, this was more ordinary—the natural reaction of someone normal, to the worst conditions of combat.
It was his turn for a hug. As I wrapped a wing around him, I asked, “You doing alright?”
Night broke into tears as he half-collapsed against me. “N-no. I’m... I’m sorry, Dusky... I'm... I'm just so scared.”
Pulling him closer, I pressed my muzzle against his mane. “After what we saw today? The dangers in this land? You’d be a foal not to be.”
I knew I was. Not just scared, even. Terrified. Back in Equestria, the safe roads were actually safe. Sure, there was always danger somewhere, but most everyone knew where it was and to avoid it. No one had been crazy enough to build a main road through Everfree. But here, everything was Everfree. Death was only staved off by a higher order of death. And the fact that Ostfriesen considered bulettes mere pests? That put Night and I right at the bottom of the chain.
Night wrapped his hooves around me. “W-what do we do now? What can we do?”
“We wait. And hope that Merriweather hasn't gotten herself into anything too dangerous.” Shifting, I rested my muzzle against his.
He sniffed. The tears had stopped. “I never wanted this, Dusky. None of it. Th-this is never what I thought it would be. H-heroism. Knighthood. It's all falling apart... and it's all my fault.”
“No, this whole thing is bigger than we could have imagined. These are machinations that began before we were even born. I… I’ve worried more than once that we’re in over our heads.”
“I was so excited, t-to become stronger, to do my part…”
“Don't undersell yourself.”I gave him a quick nuzzle before looking him in the eye. “I need you just as much as you need me.”
“I just... I just d-don’t want to be alone.”
In spite of everything, I pushed forth a reassuring smile. “You’re not.”
Night paused for a few moments, letting the words sink in. He looked up again. “Neither are you.”
We didn’t wake until dawn, when Star came in to check on us. Even then, I could still feel the previous day’s toll, eclipsing what energy I did have. It was just that sort of general exhaustion that transcended bodily rest. As if that weren’t enough, my stomach was deeply unhappy that I had skipped supper.
As such, after hastily adding Star’s new purchases to our packs, Night and I spent a good few minutes inhaling about two breakfasts each. The vegetables weren’t exactly the freshest around, but I was hungry and we were out in the middle of nowhere.
Sparing only a moment to reassess our gear, we took the rear gate out, traveling up the foothills along the mountains. While the terrain still looked about as hostile as the rest of the Badlands, there were at least two more comforts: the packed, trodden trail and a fortress at our backs. This was a more controlled environment, though by just how much, I couldn’t say.
Once we’d been walking about ten minutes, I turned to Star. “So, find anything?”
“Nothing definitive. The innkeeper recalled a few red unicorns, passing through anywhere between one and three days.”
I nodded. Even with her familiarity, I doubt the investigation was easy. One can only get so specific before it starts to arouse suspicion. “I hope it’s not three. We’ll never catch her if that’s the case. Assuming we’re only a day behind, what’s the plan?”
“We will follow the trail into the valley, and then move north once we have a more direct path to the Forge. Within the borders of Ostfriesen, we should be far safer.”
“How much safer?” I couldn’t help but glance back past Fort Rhenish, toward what was supposedly a safe path. “If the bulette is any indication, we can’t let our guard down.”
Star gave Night and me an apologetic look as she nodded. “I agree, though that was outside the ring of our influence. Once we reach the valley, you will see.”
“Okay. Would…” I glanced about. There was no one else around, but it was best to get into the habit of not using Merriweather’s real name “... Dame Lunaris have really come this way?”
With a heavy sigh, it was Star’s turn to look back. “I should hope so. There are a couple other, shorter routes that go straight through the mountains, but the pace required to outstrip the highway would be very dangerous.”
I nodded. “I just didn’t know how close she’d want to get. But this definitely seems too sensible a route to pass up.”
We continued on for about half the day before the hills became more of a uniform incline. Either way, thanks to the surefootedness that the path afforded us, the terrain did little to slow us. As we neared the crest, I noticed that the plant life was growing greener and more numerous. Surely, the valley must have been right ahead. I briefly wondered if it could live up to the hype.
Star stopped at the top of the path, a blue-ish tinge highlighting the green of her coat. “The forts and the outlying territories are one aspect of Ostfriesen, a part of our lives we must always be aware of. This is the other.”
She motioned down, into parts yet unseen. As I trotted up beside her, I wondered, briefly, if we’d somehow been transported back to Equestria.
Given the state of what we’d seen thus far, I’d expected the conversion to be much more gradual. However, there seemed to be an exact line where the sparse vegetation became a blinding carpet of green.
The road slid down amongst the wild grass, before surrounding itself with trees, then breaking out into the plains again. Colourful flowers and ponies of all kinds brought variety to the endless green. The path navigated this pattern a few more times until it disappeared into the distance. It was there that many of the fields began, their finely ordered borders visible even from here. Just beyond the crops was a large blue lake, refusing to be eclipsed by the plants as it glinted under the sun.
Of course, there was no competing with the castle in the middle of the lake. Its walls were a pure white, dwarfing everything around it. Tiny dots marked said walls at uniform intervals, and after a moment, I realized that they must be flags or banners. The place was easily bigger than Canterlot.
“Ostfriesen…” I whispered out to the valley—not that I expected it to respond. But the allure was strong. Were we not in such a hurry, I would have perched here all day, taking in every inch of this strange, yet not-so-different, land.
“This is the Tanzen Forest.” Star pointed to the nearest grove. “Beyond that, the Dressur Plains serve as the breadbasket of Ostfriesen. That castle in the center is usually called Ostfriesen Castle, though the town upon which the castle is built is called Oasis. Further east lies the Coral Vale along the coast, the city where Merriweather and I were born.”
“It's... beautiful.” Night’s eyes were everywhere. “To think... all this, hidden here beyond the Badlands.”
Letting out a soft laugh, Star joined us in staring. “It was not always so beautiful. Once, this land was as brutal as the Badlands we crossed to reach this point. This is the result of a thousand years of fighting, striving, and determination to make this lands ours. We have reaped many rewards for our efforts.”
I blinked, trying to fathom just how much earth pony magic that must have taken. “It’s amazing.”
“Every Ostfriesen citizen looks out upon this paradise in pride, knowing how hard won it is.” Star smiled widely.
Stealing a glance back at the Badlands, I had to ask, “I can see why. How did anyone even survive long enough to turn it into this?”
“Necessity.” Star closed her eyes. “Long, long ago, Ostfriesen was settled by refugees from a terrible famine. Their lands were engulfed in unending ice and snow, and they abandoned it, in need of a new home. They left their nations, their peoples, and journeyed across the Badlands, in search of paradise.”
The parallels to Hearth’s Warming felt more than a little strange, even if they made perfect sense. Perhaps it was just a carryover from hearing the tale with a foal’s mentality. After all, it would be pretty arrogant to think that the whole of the three original nations came to Equestria.
Night nodded, his words almost coming out as a whisper, “It seems like they found it.”
“In time. Many of those refugees did not trust one another, but they traveled together across the Badlands. Monsters and salt quagmires and worse cost them lives at every step, but they grew stronger as they traveled. They learned how to fight the creatures here, and how to navigate the land. They learned to work together and they survived despite all odds. Eventually, they reached their destination, a simple watering hole surrounded by sparse vegetation, clinging to life in a sea of death.”
“And they settled there? They made that castle?”
“It was not so grand, then. A simple village, sewn from leather and reinforced with clay, they named it after that single source of comfort. Oasis. Fresh water and sustainable food. The earth ponies had brought seeds with them on their journey, and the first fields were planted there.”
“So similar to Equestria's story,” I mused, though there was one key difference that bothered me. “But if they’d already come together, why did Tapioca have to fight a war to unify everyone?”
Star let out a sigh. “Stubborn pride. They prospered as one, but the unity was fragile. Old grudges still boiled underneath the surface, and all it took was one terrible incident to shatter the town. On the first day of the harvest, as the ponies began to gather food, a terrible black shadow fell over the town. A great dragon descended upon the fields, burning the crops and killing many. In the wake of that destruction, facing famine and death once again, the ponies turned on one another. Soon, many left Oasis, splintering out into the various clans across Ostfriesen.”
Perhaps the difference wasn’t as large as I originally thought, though the dragon sounded like more of a brute than the Windigos. I wondered what could have provoked such an attack.
“There... there are dragons in Ostfriesen?” Night mumbled.
A low laugh escaped Star’s lips. “Maybe there are. It is hard to say, these days. This is their land, after all. The large depression there, that pathway through the Dressur Plains that leads directly to Ostfriesen Castle is named for the incident, the Path of Dragons.”
I should have guessed that it had been a territory problem. My sample size was very limited, but even someone as mild mannered as Spike showed a strong possessive instinct—one that had caused rather significant property damage. With that settled, it struck me as rather weird to name their main road for one of their greatest antagonists. That would be like calling the Ponyville incident ‘Spike’s Birthday Smash’.
“Ostfriesen chooses strange ways to cope with tragedy.”
Star gave me a slight shrug. “If you spend enough time, you may find that my fellow countryponies share a rather dark sense of humor. Dragons are of much less concern to us now, since Tapioca slew their master.”
Considering the general nature of the Badlands, I supposed there was little surprise in that.
“She... she was amazing. Just, had a presence to her... I could certainly believe she had slain a dragon.” Night’s eyes drifted, lost in the distance beyond the sky. It was an odd mix of the looks he got when he was daydreaming and conversing with Bellerophon. I didn’t even know what to say, though, luckily, I didn’t need to; as his eyes drifted past me, he snapped to. “Err... just, remembering something I saw. Something I guess Bellerophon showed me.”
I wrapped a wing around Night before turning back to Star. “So that's when Tapioca united the ponies of Ostfriesen?”
With a nod, Star started down the path, her eyes scanning the landscape as though she could see the story unfolding before her. “When Tapioca was born, it was our country's darkest time. Many pegasi had fled to the mountains, broken into various bandit camps and war parties which then resorted to raiding to survive. The unicorns sequestered themselves in their cities upon the western shore, refusing entry to any foreigners, and bickered amongst one another in a constant war. Meanwhile, the earth ponies cowered in Oasis. They farmed as best they could, fighting off the raiders and the monsters to preserve their lives, offering tribute to the dragon that had long ago destroyed their home. They suffered under the yoke of a cruel master, kept divided by our own prejudices and hatreds.”
The more I heard, the more I felt like Equestria and Ostfriesen were long-lost sisters. “Sounds a lot like when Equestria had to deal with Discord.”
“Judging by historical accounts, an apt, if not perfect, comparison.” Star paused. By now, we were far enough along that the castle was starting to fall behind the trees. She stared up at one of the spires. “Tapioca wanted to return to that age of cooperation, when ponies worked together and were the better for it. She wanted to see her people stop living in fear and hate, and to see them prosper. So, she began to train, and to fight, and to defend her village. Her influence grew, and she quickly turned her passion to others, organized them, training them to fight as well. She would unite all the disparate clans, and to do so, she needed a symbol. Something to give every pony pause when she entered a room.”
Holding a hoof up, Star drew a line from that spire to a mountain range perched atop the far side of the valley. Even though the face was clearly inanimate, it had this odd, toothy look, like it yearned to swoop down and devour us. “The dragon. She went alone, not willing to risk the lives of her village in this gambit, and wanting to ensure her home remained defended, even if she died. There, they say, she confronted the eldest dragon and forced it to her will. She returned to her village triumphant, carrying a symbol of the dragon's oath with her, a pact that from that day on, the dragons would no longer interfere with the ponies who settled here. Tapioca was their chosen, blessed by the dragon to lead Ostfriesen into a golden age.”
“Blessed by the dragon?” Confusion crept across Night’s face. “It's... so is the dragon evil? Or, um... good? You make it sound like it was a monster, but then it sounds like Tapioca needed its blessing?”
I was starting to see the picture. The more I thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed that the tales of Tapioca defeating an elder dragon in single combat weren't true. This wasn’t to say she wasn’t a good fighter, though. By comparison to Ostfriesen’s culture, as well as Star’s and Bellerophon’s fighting abilities, her power would be undeniable. But there is more than one kind of power and her willingness to negotiate with Bellerophon showed that she was not above diplomacy. Perhaps, in her youth, she still valued such power.
Star shrugged again. “A little of both, perhaps. Surely, the truth of the dragon’s motives, and how Tapioca overcame it has been mythologized, but to this day, the unbroken scale of a great black dragon rests behind the throne of the Queen. There is little doubt that it was given, not taken. Tapioca won the dragon’s word through her valor. An earth pony overwhelming a dragon. That of itself is all we need to know.”
As Star confirmed my thoughts, I couldn’t help but agree with hers. Certainly, such a feat in diplomacy would have been equal, if not more challenging, than a duel. At least, I knew that, despite all my dad had taught me, I wouldn’t even know where to begin in negotiating from such a disadvantageous position. In my mind, single combat had taken place—even if it wasn’t quite as advertised.
“Saying you have an ancient dragon backing you would certainly help rally support.”
“Not as much as she hoped. Still, it enabled her to forge an alliance with one of the unicorn cities upon the coast, combining their magic with her clan’s strength. That army was enough to win her victory after victory, consolidating her power amongst the earth ponies and unicorns. At the end of her campaign, she turned her attention to the pegasi raiders in the north, but they had not been idle. This is where Bellerophon entered the story, a warlord who had been working in parallel to her, uniting the northern bandits into a military force to oppose Tapioca’s rule.”
“I, um... I guess we know how that turned out.” Night let out a nervous laugh as his eyes stopped just short of meeting mine.
“Indeed. With the war ended, and the country united, Tapioca returned to Oasis, and began the construction of Ostfriesen Castle to serve as her new country's capital. On the ground level, the original oasis remains, and is open to all to visit. Since then, Ostfriesen’s territory continues to grow. Year after year, we fight for every inch of land, seizing it and wrestling it under our control. In another thousand years, perhaps our descendants will have eliminated the Badlands altogether, and they may reach out to Equestria to trade in good faith across safe passages. That is the spirit that burns in the heart of our country today.”
A smile crept up my face, entertaining the thought that, were we to help from the Equestrian side, perhaps it could be sooner. It seemed like a shame that such beauty was locked behind mortal peril.
“It’s certainly inspiring,” Night said. “You’ve done so much to make it… to make it a home.”
Star nodded. “Every adventurer, every knight, this is what they are fighting to defend. Our Oasis.”
“I… I’m sorry.” Night deflated a little at ‘knight’.
“You should not be. You may have made a fine knight had you been born in Ostfriesen.” She pressed a hoof against his shoulder. “You make a far better friend.”
---
Star hadn’t been kidding about the safety of the highway. Not only that, but once we got further into the valley, the construction was quite superb. To cross about half of a country in less than two days of hoof travel was crazy. Of course, a good portion of that was the ability to just camp anywhere after pushing the daylight to its absolute limit. There were so many preconstructed campsites just off the path that I began to wonder if Ostfriesen wasn’t just one long, recreational camping ground.
The sun was already dipping behind the horizon by the time we arrived in Fort Mareginot. This meant that if we wanted to set out first thing in the morning, we’d have to do all our restocking and intel gathering before the shops closed down for the night. Not to mention that there was also the matter of finding a place to stay. As such, we split up.
Of course, each of us would keep our ear to the ground, but Star definitely had the advantage in actively pursuing information. Supplies were something I’d handled numerous times, which left Night to tackle the inn. I really hoped he’d be okay on his own.
Fort Mareginot was a lot like a larger Rhenish, right down to the liberal use of unshaved logs. However, under the waning light, I caught a glimpse of dull grey. Upon closer examination, I realized that some of the structures were built on a heavy stone foundation—the kind suited to warding off prolonged attack. Given the fort’s location and that the material seemed more worn than raw, I guessed that it must have dated back to the unification war.
I shook my head. Now was not the time to get distracted. Yet, I found my eyes wandering as I searched for an open shop. While I did genuinely want to know more about the fort, I had to admit that I was a little nervous. Sure, we’d passed more than a few Ostfriesens on the road, but our conversations rarely went beyond “Hail!” Here, I was bartering with foreign currency for foreign goods in a foreign country, which left me feeling a little lost. It didn’t help that the majority of the buildings in this section were dark and locked up.
After a couple more minutes, a lit window caught my eye, and I knew I couldn’t afford to delay. A wooden sign hung above the door, though its words were lost in the darkness. I squinted as I trotted up the steps. ‘Poppy’s Ultimate Emporium’.
The place was more of a hole in the wall than an emporium, but considering that every inch of the wall was covered in shelves, it certainly tried. The crampedness almost reminded me of Terra’s shop, if the wares were composed entirely of travel and combat goods.
It took me a few seconds to find the counter, behind which was a bulky, brown earth pony with nearly a dozen scars crisscrossed down her muzzle. Her mane was cut unusually short, to the point that it was nearly a mohawk. She was staring at me rather intently, and as I met her gaze, I worried that she was suspicious of me.
“Uh, hi?” I kept my voice as level as I could.
Her expression changed in an instant, the amount of cheer permeating her smile approaching Pinkie Pie levels. “Hi, there! I’m Poppy, the proprietor of Poppy’s Ultimate Emporium!”
“Nice to meet you, Poppy. I’m Duskwing, apprentice of Dame Solanum.”
Poppy’s eyes lit up. “Oooo, a greenie, eh? Running errands for the boss?”
I nodded.
“Well, rest assured, we’ve got everything a knight could ever need, plus a bit more. Perhaps you’d be interested in our magic rations?” She motioned to a shelf packed with what looked like normal rectangular rations, but wrapped in colourful paper. “Not only does it taste good, but you’ll find yourself stronger and faster for the rest of the day!”
Suspicion was my first instinct. While such enchantments existed, this didn’t seem like the right place for it. Besides, even if it was legit, I had doubts that I could actually afford it. “That does sound tempting, but—”
I shook my head. “That’s way out of my price range.”
She frowned, though it only lasted briefly. “Is it? That’s a shame. Oh, well. The essentials, then. What do you need?”
“Twelve standard rations, one quart of lantern oil and four Badlands tent spikes.”
As Poppy dug out each of my requests with blinding speed, I couldn’t help but think of Terra. I hoped that she wasn’t too worried and that things were going okay with Aster. I made a note that, on our first spa date back, I’d have to joke about her sharing a lineage with Poppy.
“There we go,” she said as the heavy metal stakes clattered across the counter. “That’ll be ten each for the rations, twelve for the oil and three each for the stakes, bringing you to a total of one-hundred-forty-four sovereigns.”
“Ten per ration?!” I sputtered, barely even having to play it up. “We got them for six in Rhenish. Why is it so crazy up here?”
Her smile turned apologetic. “Sorry, lass. Big influx of adventurers lately, for some kind of hunting competition up north, so stuff’s been flying off the shelves. Normally, the guild gives us some notice so we can stock up, but this time, we didn’t hear boo. It happens from time to time, but always means we’re scrambling to get more caravans our way.”
Up north? It couldn’t be coincidence. Whatever was going on at the Forge, I’d wager they were stepping up the pace, which, of course, required more resources. “Oh, well that’s unfortunate. What are they hunting?”
“Anything. The prize is for highest cumulative sovereign claim.” She raised an eyebrow, yet somehow retained that cheerful look. “You’re not participating?”
“Mmm, no, I’m still just training and trying to make a living, since I’ve only got one bounty under my belt. How about seven-point-five?”
“That’s still pretty low, don’t you think? I could maybe do nine-and-half. One kill, eh? What’s your claim?”
“It’s what I can do. Even eight would be pushing it. Just a bulette.” Inwardly, I was starting to plan damage control. Poppy wasn’t giving me a lot of room and if she refused to budge much further, I’d have to drop something. I could maybe cut out one ration, but skimping too much on the food was a big no-no. Perhaps we could get away with only half the oil and half the stakes.
“Hah, a bulette! Not bad for a greenie’s first!” Poppy grinned widely. “I can tell you you’re off to a better start than at least half the recruits that come through here. Nine-and-a-quarter.”
“That’s no good. Eight-and-a-quarter is as much as I can afford.”
She paused, giving me a sympathetic look. I was still shuffling my mental inventory, waiting for her to insist on something higher when she spoke, “How much have you got?”
“One-hundred-twenty-five sovereigns.”
Propping her forehooves up on the counter, Poppy’s eyes scanned each of the items once, then twice. “Hmmm. Y’know, just this once, we’ll call it close enough. One-twenty-five for the whole shebang. Consider it a greenie discount.”
“Really? Oh, thank you, Poppy.” I smiled wide as I paid, then did my best to imitate Star’s bow.
“Hey, don’t sweat it.” She tapped a hoof to her nose. “I may not look it, but I still remember what it was like to be a greenie. Now get going. These war trophies didn’t claim themselves, y’know.”
After a, thankfully, uneventful rest of the night, we set out at the crack of dawn. Even though we were back in the Badlands, I found myself distracted. Going under the assumption that Merri had beat us to the Forge, I’d asked Night if Bellerophon could recall the layout. That was how three-quarters of a map ended up in my flight satchel. The troubling part was just how huge that map was. On top of that, not only were we searching a hostile city, but a hostile military city—by Ostfriesen standards of military. Assuming we were able to get in undetected, we’d almost assuredly have to split up in order to cover the requisite ground. After all, the longer we stayed, the more we were at risk. But then if someone got into trouble, they’d have no backup. I was especially worried about Night, because this would be one-thousand times more taxing than talking to an innkeeper. Sure, he had Bellerophon if push came to shove, but as far as I was concerned, we’d already had to call on his power too much.
However, there was hope, in that we did have an opening, even if its cause was otherwise an ill omen. Night had somehow accidentally tricked the innkeeper into revealing he was a collaborator. When he showed Star the paper with a crude drawing of Bellerophon’s cutie mark—a wing overlaid by a lance—my suspicions about the so-called hunt were confirmed. While a steady stream of reinforcements for Firetail’s scheme meant needing to evade more soldiers, it also meant many new faces would be passing the Forge’s gates. If we played our cards just right, perhaps we could gain a window of free rein.
As it turned out, my absent-mindedness mattered little. I don’t know if it was the fake hunt being very committed to keeping the front up, or just the inevitability of having to fight Badlands monsters, but the road was eerily quiet. It only took a few hours of travel to see why monsters would stay clear of us. Every half-hour or so, we’d come across one or more corpses, each stripped of their trophy horns or teeth. Only the surprisingly normal carrion dared venture near.
The farther Bellerophon led us, the quieter it became. I began to wonder just what we were up against. In my mind, rows of elite soldiers appeared, forming a line between us and the Forge's thirty-foot walls. Atop those walls stood an endless expanse of archers and mages, all outlined in the sinister red glow of the volcano. I shook my head. Focus. There’s no use getting intimidated before we even arrive.
The journey continued without incident, and, finally, as we rounded yet another a hill, a series of mountains came into view. While the peaks were omnipresent in the Badlands, this was about as clearly as I’d seen them since we arrived at Fort Rhenish. Even among them, though, there was one that stood hundreds of feet above the rest. There was no mistaking it: this was the Forge.
But it wasn’t like anything I’d imagined. The whole thing was dark, its features almost washed out by the falling sun. There were no looming fort, no army barring its gates. In fact, if not for its size, the mountain wouldn’t even stand out. Upon reflection, it only made sense—such things were hardly covert.
What was probably the most telling feature was the road. When we’d started out, it looked well maintained, especially for something that only led out into a highly hostile wilderness. I supposed they needed to keep some distance in front of the fort safe, but still. After about the halfway point, it started to get much rougher and more neglected, something entirely expected. At first glance, the road we were on seemed about the same, but it was also subtly maintained. The whole thing was still clearly beaten and rugged, but they were all minor blemishes. A few of what I suspected had been deep potholes looked like they’d been filled in somewhat recently.
Bellerophon picked up on it too and Night’s pace slowed. As our hoofsteps became less frequent, a faint crunching intermingled with ours. I was surprised it had taken this long to even come close to encountering anyone else. I wondered if it would be a Forge patrol or one of the fake hunting parties. Not that it mattered, as our cover story was going to be the same either way.
After a few more feet, a couple hoof marks, veering off toward the side of the road, caught my eye. The tracks ended there, but I followed the extrapolated path into the ditch. Another half-print drew me toward a formation of rocks. I circled very carefully, just in case someone, or some people, were lying in wait.
Luckily, despite being somewhat scattered, the rocks were all positioned in such a way that one angle let me see behind all of them. When I realized no one was there, I let out a breath.
That was when I spotted it: a small crossbow, just like the ones Merri uses, lay on its side, half-buried in dirt. The bow string had snapped, both fragments flapping in the air every time a breeze passed by. I didn’t know what to think. I wanted to believe it wasn’t hers. After all, there’s no way she was the only one to use such weapons and many people were coming up this way. On the other hoof, it was the right model in the right place, so could I really deny it?
“What is it?” Night asked as he stepped up beside me.
“I think I found a crossbow, but I don’t know whose. Solanum?” I glanced over my shoulder.
Moving with an uncharacteristic impatience, Star trotted over the crossbow and stared down at it. After a moment, she lifted it up in her magic, examining the butt. “Those bastards.”
I swallowed hard.
Then Star took off, zipping back up to the road with an eery lack of noise.
“Wh-what? Solanum!” I hissed. But she’d already disappeared.
Night and I exchanged worried glances before breaking off after her.
Tracking Star wasn’t too hard, since, while I’d lost sight of her, I knew her origin and general direction. In addition, there were only two targets that made sense: the hoofsteps or the mountain. My money was on the former. Of course, the difficult part was catching up to her without raising suspicion; this wasn’t a race to see who could blow our cover first.
As I crested the next hill, I caught sight of the patrol: a trio of earth ponies ambling down the path. But something wasn’t right. Sure, they were openly armed, with a mix of hoofblades and spears, but these weren’t elite soldiers. In fact, they hardly looked like soldiers at all. To me, these were half-starved farmers in patchwork militia barding—and that was probably being generous.
I crouched low, motioning to Night to do the same.
We'd been watching them for mere seconds when Star leapt from behind a boulder. Two of them only had enough time to raise their weapons before a single stroke put an end to each of them. The third managed a clumsy strike that Star swept aside before turning and driving her hind hooves into the side of her opponent’s helmet. A dull clang proceeded a heavy thud, then silence.
There was little we could do but rush down to Star. If anyone saw us now, there would be no explaining this away.
“What are you doing?!” I half-whispered.
“I will tell you after. Just move the bodies. Quickly.” Star trotted back behind the boulder from whence she came, the third pony trailing in her magic.
With some effort, Night and I got the other two ponies off the path. There was hardly any blood—the wounds were already cauterized. I shuddered.
Once the corpses were out of sight, I doubled back, hastily covering our tracks. By the time I returned, Star had already moved the rest of the patrol. She quickly led us around a slalom of rock pillars before reaching a cave that carved its way downward. Even considering her magic, it was hard to believe she’d picked out such a place and planned her attack so quickly. Her efficiency was nothing short of frightening.
The earth pony was already hogtied, lying on her back in one of the least-dignified positions possible. Between that, the sickly greenish brown of her coat and the dimness of the cave, she almost looked like a big dead bug.
Star strode over and gave the mare’s head a push. When there was no response, Star shook her rather violently.
“Gah! I didn’t mean to oversleep, Sarge, I swear!” The mare’s eyes snapped open and darted around. When she saw Star, confusion turned into a mix of hate and fear.
Without skipping a beat, Star began, “I am not in the mood to play games. I have two questions for you, answer and this will all be over swiftly.”
“Or what?” The mare’s eyes drifted over to the lifeless corpses of her companions. “You’ll kill me? L-like them? You won’t get anything that way!”
Star’s expression remained cold. “No, I will not kill you. I will ask less nicely. Now, answer me. A red unicorn came this way. What did you do with her, and what is the fastest way to enter the Forge?”
Our prisoner struggled against the ropes, but when they wouldn’t budge, she grunted, “I won't tell you anything.”
“Very well. Know that this could have been avoided.” Star held her hoofblade high until the mare’s eyes found it. A rag slid over the prisoner’s mouth as the blade slowly descended.
The mare screamed, her agony clawing its way through the gag, as Star’s hoofblade slid across her chest. A small plume of flame trailed behind the steel, emanating a sickly smell. At last, the screams fell to a whisper, followed by sobbing. “M-monster!”
Thing was, I couldn’t disagree. What Star had just done left me frozen, speechless. I’d never believed Star capable of such a reprehensible act. I still didn’t want to believe it, wondering when I’d wake up in Fort Mareginot to find this all an unfounded twist of a dream.
Star loomed over her. “My signet is not a simple pattern. It will take many strokes to complete. Consider your answers carefully.”
“Th-there's a path out to the ash plains in the east! It's lightly guarded! Just the gatekeeper and he’s always sneaking off for naps!” the prisoner blurted out.
“And? What of the Red unicorn who was taken captive?”
“What?” Confusion returned to the mare’s face. “Wh-what red unicorn?”
Star sighed, raising her blade again.
“N-no! I don’t know! I swear! We’ve hardly even seen anypony a-and we certainly haven’t captured a red unicorn!”
“Wrong answer.”
At last, I pushed the shock aside, leaping forward and parrying Star’s hoof with my wing. “Solanum! Stop! What are you doing?!”
“I am doing what is necessary.” Star’s glare turned to me. “We have to find her.”
I shook my head. “Pain and suffering is necessary on the battlefield. This is cold-blooded cruelty.”
Even though he looked like he was going to be sick, Night stepped up beside me, holding his head more or less level. “I… I can’t let you do anymore of this. I’m… I’m sorry, we need to keep moving.”
“I agree,” I said, lowering my wing. “She’s already told us what she knows. We can get more, concrete information once we’re inside.”
Star glared down at the prisoner, but after a moment, turned her head to the exit. “Fine. Then we must move. Assuming she has not lied to us, we can find this side entrance before nightfall.”
She started walking.
“A-and what about her?” Night asked.
“Leave her.” Star barely spared a step.
Night ran after her. “What? We can’t do that!”
With another sigh, Star stopped, turning just enough to give the prisoner a sideways glance. “We cannot have her returning to the Forge to warn them, nor do we have time to take her back somewhere safe. Either we leave her here, bound as she is, or we need to end her life.”
“N-no! You can’t do this! You can’t!” The mare struggled against the ropes again, but when she did little more than beat herself against the ground, she lay there, despondent.
There were no two ways about it: Star was right. Fort Mareginot was way too far back and freeing her was suicidally stupid. At least, freeing her now was. I held up a hoof before turning to the prisoner. “We’re going to leave you here, but we’ll be back. Unless, we’re walking into an ambush, of course.”
“I’m not lying! The passage is safe, I swear! I-if Old Ed challenges you, tell him, ‘I lay at the hooves of the Immortal Prince, Bellerophon.’” Desperation and hope flood the mare’s eyes. Upon closer examination, even outside of Star’s antics, the mare looked beaten and worn. It was almost heartbreaking, and a clear indication that something was very off about the Forge.
“Then that settles that.” I pushed the gag back into her mouth. “Sorry, but we can’t leave you without this.”
With that, I trotted to the exit, where I stopped, waiting for Star and Night. When they came up beside me, Star gave me a puzzled look. “Now what is it?”
“Something’s not right. Troops and supplies are invariably making their way out here, yet, this patrol was a bunch of half-starved amateurs. Why?”
“Um,” Night said. “Bellerophon says that the Forge takes a lot of ponies to reach full capacity. If they weren’t trying to draw attention, they probably weren’t using the whole thing.”
“All the better that we strike swiftly,” Star insisted.
I shook my head. “That may explain some of it, but the gap still seems too wide. Their armour looks like it was made by an Equestrian apprentice. Even if they had been the ones to catch Solanum by surprise, I have doubts that they could have won. What purpose does such an under-qualified patrol serve?”
“Wh-what?” Night whispered. “No... Why?”
“Night?”
“Bellerophon says… he says they might be decoys.”
“That would make sense,” Star added. “The typical Ostfriesen monster hunter would not give them a second glance.”
“So, they could slink around and report if anyone dangerous was snooping around.” I swallowed hard as the realization hit me. “Or, if they didn’t return, still serve as a warning.”
Silence lingered as we all looked at the ground. Wherever we were headed, it sure wasn’t paradise.
We followed the road north until we hit an offshoot that was so worn that it barely resembled a path. Night relayed that Bellerophon called it a hunting trail. Such a notion was a bit hard to believe now, especially because the land around it was mostly beaten plains with a few nominal hills. However, the more I thought about it, not only did it make sense, but there must have been dozens of these trails. Like all fortresses, if the wildlife were allowed to camp right outside the walls, the Forge would have been little more than a fancy prison.
Even as we circled the mountain, its shadow seemed inescapable. With it, even shallow crevices became an uncertainty. I tried to keep an eye on as many as I could, searching for signs of anyone—or anything.
There was a certain… not-present presence of a sort. That is, I got the impression that someone had been through here somewhat recently, and that that someone had scared off all the monsters. But right now, there was no one, nothing. Such an eerie sense of absence left me feeling even more on edge than if we’d been actively avoiding something.
The sight of the gate, a rusty iron door, flanked by logs that had gone crooked from neglect, was almost a relief, until I remembered just where it was going to take us. By now, the sun was low in the sky, the barest of light visible from behind the mountain. As such, the darkness around the gate could have easily concealed a dozen assailants.
Instead, a lone stallion meandered out the open door, illuminated by a pole that held three lanterns. Old Ed fit the first part of his name quite handily. While the angle of our hiding spot made it a little tough to see the rest of his face, his uneven gait, coupled with his sagging skin, were clear indicators that he was well into the later half of his years. He latched two lights to the wall, then turned to go back inside.
Star was staring ahead, the intensity she had exhibited during the interrogation now focused into her eyes. I hoped that she would still have the patience to talk our way past this sentry. The Forge was already missing one patrol. The last thing we needed to give them was more reason to tighten their defenses.
I pressed a hoof against her side and her eyes slid over to me. With a nod, I whispered, “Carefully.”
She nodded back and trotted over to the gatekeeper. “Sir?”
“Eh?” He whirled with unexpected speed, leveling the pole at Star. Despite the patchwork armour, he had a certainty to him that none of the previous patrol did. Perhaps he wasn’t as lazy as our prisoner had led us to believe. Giving Star a hard look, he shook his pole for emphasis. “You there! Halt!”
Star held a hoof up. “Easy, sir. We are here under orders to enter the Forge through the eastern tunnel.”
“Through the east—why, that’s here!” He brought the lantern to bear, staring at each of us like we were a swarm of pests, come to invade the fields the day before harvest. For a moment, I wondered if he was on to us. At last, he grumbled, with only the barest of surface politeness. “You certainly look like one o’ them. Buncha thoroughbred know-it-alls and green-blooded foals.”
I frowned a little. Internal conflict definitely matched up with Bellerophon’s assessment that the lesser-equipped ponies were considered expendable. But at the same time, it made little sense. Even with a large army, to take on the likes of Ostfriesen, they would need strong cohesion, so treating their own troops so poorly was highly counterproductive. If this was supposed to be some kind of code instead, I couldn’t pick it out. The answer given to use by our prisoner certainly didn’t make sense here.
Without much of a second thought, the gatekeeper trotted back inside, stopping only to glance back at us. “Well, hurry up. Quit standing there swatting flies and come in so I can close the gate!”
Star nodded, though she seemed just as uneasy as I. She half-turned to us, whispering out of the corner of her mouth, “Be ready.”
The whole situation suggested a trap, and yet, that didn’t feel right. Old Ed didn’t seem tense at all. Either he hardly cared or was putting a crazy amount of effort into appearing like he hardly cared.
As we cleared the entrance, Old Ed wandered over to the wall, where a beaten winch was installed. He cranked the gate until it closed, the sound of clashing metal and stone rushing down the tunnel.
No attack came. In fact, once the echo was gone, there was barely a sound. The whole place felt lonely and lost.
“Well? Go on, then. Get going!” Old Ed waved us away.
“Thank you, sir,” Star replied, though her traditional bow was completely lost to his backside.
The entire tunnel was made of a dark grey brick that, once upon a time, must have cut a clean path to the Forge. Now, it was bent and broken, forcing us into single file in some places. Flickering lanterns, placed just far enough from each other to avoid overlap, illuminated small piles of debris. We would have to take care not to twist an ankle.
As we delved deeper, all notions of a quick escape faded. With every foot, my nerves nipped at me. I needed to think of something, anything. But, with all the conflicting evidence, what could I even expect?
Finally, the tunnel opened up. Even with Bellerophon’s map, I'd had some trouble picturing the interior. My best interpretation was a series of carefully organized rooms, connected in a way that maximized space. Instead, we walked out into a spacious cavern that was so large that it had to have been manually carved. A pale blue light lingered on everything, even where there weren’t any torches. While the ceiling was quite high, almost anything of interest was below us, set into something of a stone bowl.
The city was practically a living timeline. Crumbling stone structures, protruding straight from the ground itself, came first. Beside those were stone houses, with separate foundations layered atop the ground. Finally, wooden shacks of a similar make stood beside the stone ones. Light bled out from the doors of the houses that were the least neglected, although there were very few of those. Truth be told, I was hesitant to even call it a slum—this place was a ghost town.
A large road cut through the buildings until it hit a sheer wall of stone. There, it became a wide tunnel, its entrance outlined by an abnormally high amount of torches. If this was the city, that had to be the keep.
Night pointed to it. “That’s where Bellerophon says we need to go.”
Wonderful. It figured that we’d have to pass yet another checkpoint.
Star nodded. “A good deal of the city seems abandoned. This should help our efforts to sneak through.”
“At least until we get closer to that entrance.” I wondered just how far we could push the hunting party thing. With our current knowledge base, I couldn’t help but feel that it would be too flimsy. And there was no way we could count on encountering slackers like Old Ed again. “Then we’ll have to hope we can learn enough to convince them we belong in there.”
As we descended into the city, we found the main road to be as deserted as it first appeared. This was good for our approach, but to proceed like this would be highly conspicuous. A patrol would be more likely to single us out, and even casual conversation could give us away.
I turned down a side street, leading the others to another that seemed to run parallel to the main road. If nothing else, it could at least take us partway.
We’d only gone a few blocks, when the sound of steady marching reached my ears. They were coming in from our right, likely headed toward the main road. I quickly waved us into one of the dilapidated huts. Star and I hunkered down on either side of the door, each behind half of a wall, while Night moved further in and crouched in the shadows.
Just like with every other guard we’d seen, this quartet had gear that was barely stitched together. These soldiers were a bit sharper, perhaps even more so than Old Ed, moving with practiced discipline.
Once they were past, Star turned to us. “This makes no sense. Their armour, their weapons, none of it would be seen as fit for a fresh recruit, let alone a seasoned knight. If this rebellion has truly been this long in the planning, why is it so ill-equipped?”
“Maybe they're not as powerful as we feared?” I glanced at the now-empty street. There was definitely a wide variance in behaviour, and that wasn’t even taking into account the reinforcements that had left such a bloody trail for us to follow. “Or they're keeping their best forces in reserve.”
“It does not seem right.” Star shook her head. “There is something more going on here.”
I had to agree. They weren’t going to win a war like this. Perhaps these were still decoys and the Forge was already churning out its legendary crafts. But such an argument seemed weak. Even with a full complement of masterwork gear, the lights we saw were hardly indicative of a large standing army. Maybe they were hiding all that in the keep too, but were they really anticipating such a deep infiltration?
“They live here…” Night mumbled.
Star glanced back. “The traitors?”
“I... I guess?” He motioned broadly. “This place was a city, right? It used to have ponies living in it. What if they never left?”
It did make sense. At least, it would explain the patchwork soldiers. However, it still didn’t explain how they planned to win with such poor odds. In fact, if the majority of their strength came from the Ostfriesen fighters, it seemed pointlessly risky to move such a large group of people when it would have been easier to smuggle the weapons and armour.
Regardless, for our purpose, it did leave this section very undersecured. “It might mean we have a better chance of finding Merri and getting out of here.”
Star stood, that same intensity returning to her eyes. “We can only hope. There is an ill sense to this place.”
---
We continued to stay clear of the main road, even going a couple side streets deeper to avoid any further patrols. While the previous houses had been largely neglected, with the odd collapsed roof, over here, unusable was the norm. They still provided cover well enough, but otherwise, a squatter wouldn’t even find them suitable.
Our efforts turned out to be in vain. Patrols still came by somewhat regularly, though they were a bit more hurried than the one by the main road. I wondered if there was something to be afraid of. Then again, they seemed about as disciplined as the other squad. Perhaps abandoned ruins didn’t merit as much attention.
A few more minutes and I came to realize the reason may have nothing to do with the route itself. We could hear the next patrol from at least three blocks away, giving us ample time to completely conceal ourselves. Even under the low light of the torches, the glint off their ornate armour gave them away as Ostfriesen.
“Of course, it was no match for my triple-backflip technique!” one of them boasted as heavy horseshoes stomped past us.
“Not bad,” said another. “But I got two at once back during the Fiftieth Daisy Cutter…”
As their voices faded, Star frowned. “Those were most certainly reinforcements. They swagger as if they own this place. The typical arrogance of an experienced hunter.”
“They’re completely different from the previous ones.” I thought back to our goal, and what might be hiding at the end of that tunnel. “I have to wonder: how many are there compared to the natives?”
“And I wonder, which is the greater cause for concern?” Star furrowed her brow.
I glanced back at the patrol, their clan colours a pinprick in the distance. “Depends on whether or not we have to fight.”
As we pressed on, the fading adrenaline presented another problem. The day’s toll had slowed our pace; it was only a matter of time before our vigilance followed. Although Star wanted to fight through the fatigue, I had to put my hoof down. There would be little opportunity to rest once the meat of our mission began. It wouldn’t do to save Merri, just so we could collapse out in the middle of the Badlands.
Even with everyone on the same page, we still had to walk another block before we found a functional building. Amazingly enough, it was both on the larger side and hadn’t collapsed under its own weight. Sporting a hallway that broke off into several other rooms, at least one of them had to be usable. Once we determined which was the most stable, we could dust off a corner or two and catch a couple hours. Night kept watch while Star and I cleared each room.
The low crunch of stone on stone pulled my ears behind me and as I turned, my heart stopped. Night was walking toward us, a wingblade to his throat. A pale purple wing guided my eyes to the shadow standing back and to Night’s side. She was a mare in full light barding, though I couldn’t tell much else.
“Let him go!” Star hissed, raising her own blade.
“None of that!” The mysterious mare held up her other wing. “No weapons, no movement, or your friend dies. I don’t know who you are, or why you’re sneaking around my city, but it ends now, so just come along quietly.”
There was nothing I could do. Had I been a split second faster, perhaps I could slipped into the shadows, gotten an angle on her flank. Instead, all I could do was stand there, helplessly hoping that Bellerophon could get Night out of trouble. But, given that his presence hardly made Night invincible, even he couldn’t do much with that blade there.
“Excellent. There’s no need for bloodshed. Lord Firetail will have some questions for you. Now move.” Her eyes flitted toward the door as she pointed her free wing—leaving herself open.
Night tossed his head, the resulting crack echoing through the house. As the mare stumbled back, Bellerophon had already whirled Night around, following up by body slamming her into the wall. Another spin and a heavy buck put her on the ground, twitching.
He kicked her wingblade away before laying a second into her side. She let out a weak gasp, but otherwise just toppled over. Bellerophon stepped on her ribs, then brought the hoofblade to her throat. “Now, then. I believe the phrase is, as you said, move and you’re dead. Solanum, ask your questions. I feel quite sure our friend here will be most obliged to answer.”
For once, even Star seemed to be surprised by the sheer brutality. She cleared her throat as she trotted over. “Excellent. We seek a red unicorn who came this way, possibly taken captive. Tell us what you know of her, and everything you know about Lord Firetail.”
The mare spat as she glared up at us. “Filth! You’d best kill me as quickly as you can. When King Bellerophon is reborn, he will return Olymponis to its rightful place.”
She had barely finished her words before Bellerophon brought his hoof down.
“King Bellerophon wants nothing to do with this farce.” He leaned on that same hoof as he moved the hoofblade to show her the bracer. “If this Firetail wishes to use my name to further his lies, then I will ensure he begs for death before the end. If you have nothing else to tell us, then you shall at least have your swift death.”
The mare snarled, though there was an unmistakable waver to her words. “You know nothing. You think some stolen artifact will sway me to your lies? My family has awaited the return of our King for over a millennium. You will get nothing from me.”
“Hmph. So be it,” Bellerophon said, his words icy cold, as he returned the blade to her throat.
I wanted to tell him to stop, to wait, that we might figure something out, but the fact of the matter was that, only moments ago, she had been perfectly willing to murder Night. Not only that, but we were deep into hostile territory, along a patrol path where someone would almost assuredly find her. As much as I hated it, I had no good reason to stop him.
But he hesitated, a grimace growing across his face. At last, he slammed the blade into the ground. “Very well. King Bellerophon grants you your life. Expect nothing else.”
He turned and took several deliberate steps.
The mare looked up at him, her body quivering as confusion filled her face. “What are you?”
Bellerophon didn’t even turn around, instead staring up at the ceiling. “I was the Aegis Insontis, First Knight of Tapioca's Court, Justicar Bellerophon, once known as Swift Wing.”
“Swift Wing… no one should know that name.” Confusion turned to realization, realization to awe.
Bellerophon snorted, though his gaze remained on the ceiling. “None would, now. Wiped from the pages of history. Just as I was. Just as you all will be.”
“I, uh, I’m Amethyst, M’Lord.” She was practically falling all over herself now. Were this a less serious matter, I’d swear she was fangirling. “Amethyst Vein. I am the Regis of the ponies of Olymponis. The Oracle said you’d return. When the Mare in the Moon disappeared, he said, it was a sign that Tapioca’s dynasty was over, and that we would return to our rightful throne in Ostfriesen. We’ve been waiting a thousand years for you.”
Bellerophon whirled, giving Amethyst Vein a severe look. “I am not your Lord. I am not your saviour. Tapioca had every right to that throne, and so do her children. You've waited on false hope.”
“No, you can’t mean that.” Amethyst Vein shrunk.
“It’s for the best we keep the bloodshed to a minimum. That sort of thing just feeds into itself.” I wasn’t quite sure what to think of the whole thing, but if she wasn’t lying, someone had been feeding her everything she’d wanted to hear. She was being used, but, all things considered, I still couldn’t see a clear reason why. Regardless, I was more than a little relieved that Bellerophon hadn’t forced Night to kill her. If things took another turn for the worst, Star or I could finish things off. Until then, perhaps we could get something out of her.
Night’s eyes flitted away. “I... I couldn't let him. We can't just kill anypony who gets in our way.”
I gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, good. I wouldn't want to see him stain your hooves with anymore lives.”
“Y-yeah. Me neither.” He trotted back to Amethyst Vein. “Amethyst? I’m... I’m sorry. It’s complicated, but we’re not here to stop you, or to stop Firetail or whoever is running things. We’re just here to save our friend.”
Amethyst Vein shook her head as she stood, giving a Night a harsh look that told me she hadn’t quite figured out the whole deal with the bracer. “I was a fool. We waited here for a thousand years for you. The Oracle told my ancestors, and their ancestors, that you’d return. We were supposed to see it in our lifetime, and instead, we've invited the enemy into our home. Lord Firetail has brought in his reinforcements, Ostfriesen nobles that have taken over Olymponis. They sit in the Forge and laugh and plot. They're using us, using my people, and I've turned a blind eye. All because they gave us hope you'd return. That you'd be something special.”
I raised an eyebrow. Her stance seemed to change awfully fast. Either she’d been lying to herself or she was lying to us. For the moment, I remained silent.
It was Star’s turn to shake her head. “This is not even Bellerophon. He is long dead, but his spirit remains, bound to the bracer upon the forehoof. He could not lead you even if he desired to. I simply wish to save my sister, Amethyst.”
Amethyst Vein sighed. “Then you do oppose Firetail. Because the red unicorn can only be the prisoner captured by Firetail's loyalists. She is a special prisoner, selected to become the vessel for King Bellerophon's return.”
“V-vessel?” Night’s eyes drifted down to his bracer.
“Amethyst Vein, we're not going to hurt you, or your people, if we don't have to. But we have to save that prisoner. Please tell us what you know.” I watched her carefully.
“Firetail's lies have held the people of Olymponis down long enough.” Anger burned in her eyes. “I swore an oath to serve Bellerophon, as has every leader of Olymponis since his departure. I will help you.”
With Amethyst Vein’s intrusion and continued presence, any chance for sleep was going to be highly limited. Lingering adrenaline aside, I certainly didn’t trust her, and if posting a single sentry was risky before, it’d be downright stupid now. As such, there was little for me to do other than address our wildcard.
As I pondered just where to start, I noticed her eyes were constantly wandering over to Night—or rather, Bellerophon. Despite the whole headache-inducing complexity of the situation, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of annoyance at each infatuated look. I quickly brushed the jealousy aside. It wasn’t like Night was reciprocating, and besides, I didn’t have the time or energy to waste. Instead, I focused on how much an advantage it was.
If she was really and truly as fanatically devoted to Bellerophon as she first appeared, we could zero in on that to cement her allegiance. There was no guarantee that she didn’t have other motives, but in the very least, it would lower the chances of us never waking up thanks to slit throats.
I put on my most charismatic face. “So, now that we’re working together, tell me more about this place and your Oracle.”
“Oracle?” Her gaze snapped away from Night.
“Yeah.” I suppressed another bout of annoyance. “You said he advised the ancestors of your ancestors about the return of Bellerophon. Clearly, he isn’t an ordinary person.”
“That would be because he is not ordinary at all. He is a dragon of old, one who witnessed the rise of the vile Tapioca.” A moment later, her eyes flitted over to Night, a late realization washing over her face. “He was there. He saw her tyranny, and how each of her spawn inherited her iron hoof.”
A knot formed in my stomach. There was no way this was coincidence. I already knew his name, but I had to ask to be certain, “And his real name? Surely, it isn’t Oracle.”
Amethyst Vein shook her head. “That, I do not know. Such questions are off limits to us.”
Star and I exchanged a look.
“Could it be?” Star asked.
“Broken Tooth.” I nodded.
This time, it was Night’s head that snapped toward us.
“Eh? He does have one of those, but what…” Amethyst Vein’s voice faded as she noticed Night.
“Bellerophon says that, um, Broken Tooth is responsible for his situation.” Night shrunk a little. “But, um, less nicely.”
“Situation?” Amethyst Vein’s eyes darted between each of us.
“Trapped between life and death. A formless soul, lost for centuries in darkness, with nothing but his anger and grief to sustain him, held within this cursed bracer… th-that’s what he says.” With a shudder, Night held the bracer out. What little light found its way in off the street cast an extra-ominous shadow across it.
Amethyst Vein stared at the relic. “No, there has to be some kind of mistake. All this time, he’s always extolled your virtues, Lord Bellerophon the Untainted Hero. Lord Bellerophon the Immortal Prince. The Justicar who would right all wrongs. Why would he say all that if he meant to do you harm?”
“Given that he is willing to proceed without the real Bellerophon present,” Star said, “it is safe to say he has ulterior motives.”
“A figurehead,” I suggested.
“No!” Amethyst Vein’s face hardened. “That is what Firetail has planned. He must be going behind the Oracle’s back to trick us all. If he has his own agent as an unquestionable figurehead, he could get all of us, the Oracle included, to do as he wishes! That must be what’s going on!”
I let out a bit of a sigh. “But if the Oracle is so old and wise, shouldn’t Firetail realize that he’d eventually, if not immediately, catch on?”
She shrugged. “No pony ever said Firetail was smart.”
“Well, regardless, we’ll both need to thwart him to meet our goals.” There was little point in arguing right that moment or, hopefully, not at all. I wasn’t too keen on getting into a fight with a dragon, so the plan would most definitely be to grab Merriweather and run. Perhaps Amethyst Vein could even end up distracting him for us. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”
Amethyst Vein’s face was just shy of a sneer. “Firetail is all about arrogance and pomp. He wants his presence to be known, to the point that he chooses his personal guard for their flair over their skills. If you can slip past his regulars, you shouldn’t have any problem getting your friend out.”
“And just how much is between us and that?” I asked.
“First you’d need to get into the inner city. You’re all so painfully Ostfriesen that you wouldn’t need my help with that one.”
The slightest of amusement passed between Night and I.
Star nodded. “Then what?”
“The inner city itself, there shouldn’t be any problems so long as the gate goes fine and you don’t linger. The palace is another matter. Everypony there is in Firetail’s inner circle. They’ll know if somepony strange is trying to get in. That’s also before his personal guard.”
“Great. I’m guessing you can’t get them to let us pass?” I asked, paying extra attention to her face.
“Maybe. They have full control of the palace and refuse to let anypony by without asking twenty questions—including me. But there might be another way.”
“Which is?” Night sounded anxious. I wondered just how much of that was him, and how much was Bellerophon.
“Wait until the earliest hours of the morning. Those outside are less supervised and as the patrols are consistently boring, many have started smuggling in flasks. They try to hide it, but they become sluggish and unfocused. That is when you can use the rear servant’s entrance. Normally it would be too far in the open, but that window widens greatly at that hour.” Amethyst Vein's eyes narrowed, though not at any of us. She continued to stare at the wall a few moments longer and I had to imagine each of the guards painted on it.
“So, what makes this a ‘might’ scenario?” This time the edge made me certain that Bellerophon was pushing Night to ask. I really hoped Bellerophon wasn’t planning anything crazy. This was not the time or place for revenge.
“Firetail has my master key. Somepony will have to let you in. Lucky for you, the only pony I trust enough to keep things quiet should have a spare.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And who might that be?”
“Old Ed.”
Night blinked. “The… gatekeeper?”
“Not just any gatekeeper,” Amethyst Vein grumbled. “He’s my friend and one of our best fighters.”
“Best?” Star frowned. “Then why have him tucked away at one of the rear gates?”
“Firetail.” Amethyst Vein almost spit his name. “He says it was the Oracle’s orders, but I know better. It’s because he doesn’t like Old Ed. The Oracle would never indulge such a petty thing.”
I was starting to get a picture of where this was going, though I’d have to continue humouring her. “Did you talk to your Oracle? I’d think he’d want to know if Firetail is making a power grab.”
“No. He is busy with more important things, like the return of…” Her gaze turned to Night again. “... of Bellerophon.”
“Did Firetail tell you that?” I tilted my head.
Amethyst Vein scowled. “Yes, but I don’t need that glory monger to tell me what I already know.”
“Hold on a second.” Star wore a look to match Amethyst Vein’s. “You expect us to double back? How do we know you are not leading us in circles?”
The thought had occurred to me, though her dislike of Firetail certainly felt genuine. Still, even assuming there were no tricks involved, we were taking one step back in the hopes that we’d take two steps forward. That, alone, never felt great, but for Star, it could only be doubly so.
“In case it wasn’t clear, I have no love of Firetail. I’m also a mare of my word, but if you really want, I’ll stop helping.” The look Amethyst Vein wore was that of a mare who’d just bid twenty-percent over asking.
“Um, Bellerophon thinks it’s a sound plan,” Night said.
I sighed. It was definitely better than what we’d had, but Bellerophon was setting off nearly as many alarm bells as Amethyst Vein. I could only hope Night could keep him under control.
What had taken us nearly an hour to traverse alone, was a mere twenty minutes with Amethyst Vein leading the way. Of course, some of that had to do with our newfound familiarity of the area, but still.
When we reached the gate, Old Ed was nowhere to be found. I had to wonder if he was really off napping. Without comment, Amethyst Vein approached one of the back corners, where the shadows were thickest. After a moment, she seemed to disappear.
As I trotted over, I quickly found the outcropping that had blocked my view, though it wasn’t quite apparent until I was practically on top of it. It concealed a sharp turn that led into a small, barely lit alcove. If nothing else, if Old Ed wanted to slack off, he’d have a very easy time of it.
Amethyst Vein was waiting as we rounded the corner, and as soon as she saw all of us, she called deeper into the alcove, “I’m here, Ed.”
“What took you so long?” he replied, stepping into view. Seeing that she wasn’t alone, he raised an eyebrow. “What is this?”
“I’ve made a discovery. I finally have a way to expose Firetail’s treachery.” As she talked, the shift in her demeanour was slight, but perceptible. While she’d previously spoken with the weathered forcefulness of a mare who was constantly on her hind hooves, she’d slipped into something a bit more casual. But it wasn’t quite that of two friends, either. There was this sort of reverence on her part, almost like a filly addressing her father.
“Is that so?” Old Ed cast a discerning eye over us, as though judging whether we were fit to be her friends—which only served to cement my impression. I supposed it was only fair; to him, we were still just a bunch of dirty Ostfriesens. Had they a private moment, I had little doubt that he’d scold her for speaking ill of Firetail in front of us.
“This is the Voice of Lord Bellerophon,” Amethyst Vein said, motioning to Night.
Old Ed’s brow furrowed as he turned a stare as intense as a drill upon Night. It took only a few seconds for Night to glance away. “He’s one of the fabled Voices? This rookie?”
“Yes. Lord Bellerophon has entrusted him with the First Name. It is through him that I learned Firetail is incapable of completing the ritual.” Amethyst Vein’s words held a mix of hope and bitterness. It almost made it hard for me to feel indignant.
Night raised a hoof. “I-it’s, um, more complicated than that.”
“But in the end, you can hear Lord Bellerophon. That’s the most important thing.”
I grit my teeth. There was no way I could hold back anymore, though I had to be careful not to burn any bridges. “Night is Night. He’s a person first and foremost, before this… thing that has happened to him.”
Inwardly, I cringed—I’d been a half-second away from saying ‘curse’.
Amethyst Vein glared. “That ‘thing’ is an honour. Any Olymponian would kill to host the will of Lord Bellerophon!”
“But we’re not Olymponians!” I shot back.
“You could be! With Lord Bellerophon’s blessing, being born an Ostfriesen wouldn’t matter! You could live as a king among us!” Amethyst’s desperation was almost pitiable. Were it someone else, perhaps such an offer would sound enticing. But for Night, I knew it was very nearly everything he didn’t want.
“Amethyst.” Old Ed tapped her shoulder. “Calm yourself. This is not a simple matter.”
“Indeed,” Star interjected. “He is able to channel Bellerophon’s power, but it is not without cost. We have reason to believe that what you ask would have severe, or even fatal, long-term consequences.”
“What? How… how is that possible?” Amethyst fell to her haunches.
“We don’t know. Neither does Bellerophon,” Night said, his voice almost apologetic.
Old Ed looked us over one more time. “Then, what do you intend to do?”
“Firetail is currently holding my sister captive, with plans to use her for some kind of ritual,” Star said. “We are going to rescue her.”
“The one that prepares a host for Lord Bellerophon?” Old Ed seemed unsure just who to look at, finally settling on Night. “Doesn’t he already have one?”
I cringed a little. “That about sums it up. It’s likely that he’s trying to create a fraudulent Bellerophon with which to exercise absolute rule. None of us want that.”
Old Ed was suddenly watching me very carefully. “What do you propose? For us to oppose him directly would only cement his position.”
“Then don’t. We only need help getting in. We can rescue Lunaris on our own.” I wished I felt anywhere near as confident about that as I sounded. “His prospects will vanish with her and his power will collapse on its own.”
“I offered them entry through the servant quarters,” Amethyst Vein added. “During ‘Happy Hour’, of course.”
I still didn’t quite trust Amethyst Vein or Old Ed. The former had proven to be more than a bit unstable, even in her more lucid moments, while the latter was far more savvy than I’d given him credit for. Still, the longer this went on, the more I believed that they were at least committed to our little tentative alliance.
With Amethyst Vein in the lead, getting into the inner city was somehow easier than easy. The guards didn’t so much as ask for a name. In fact, they barely broke off from their bragging competition to give us a set of half-assed salutes.
If there was one thing that was especially uncanny about Amethyst Vein, it was her sense of time. Underground with no clock and yet there was no doubt in her voice when she told us the day was still young. Bringing our ruse full swing, she led us to a small house that looked like it’d actually been cared for sometime in the last couple weeks. It was far from luxury, but the place was at least clean and had basic accommodations. Judging by the barracks-style setup, I imagined that there had to be dozens of these for the Ostfriesen knights who weren’t quite best buddies with Firetail.
The whole thing made me feel claustrophobic, vulnerable. I didn’t want to let my guard down. The structure could easily be surrounded. We could do little to stop a large group of guards from rushing in. Even if we stayed awake, an infiltrator could probably catch us unaware. But the fact of the matter was that we were already up for far too long. We could either sleep and risk betrayal—or we could stay up all day and have the fatigue get us killed the first time someone draws a blade.
There was one little consolation, though. A well-placed window with ragged curtains allowed whoever was keeping watch to have a very clear view of the path. While that wouldn’t stop anyone from coming overtop of the other buildings, it at least allowed for some peace of mind when it came to the most obvious point of entry.
Amethyst Vein promised to return at midnight, to lead us to the servants’ entrance. With her departure, we took turns collapsing on the beds, trading nerves for restless bouts of sleep. While it felt like she came back all too soon, at least we’d recovered to a state of relative coherency.
And so, that is how we found ourselves hunkered down in a dark alleyway with the warrior-regent of a defunct nation, watching a pair of foreign knights share a flask of Celestia-knows-what. The most jarring part was that the night was almost guaranteed to get stranger.
However, first, those two drunkards needed to let us get at the door. It was heavy and wooden, with no trace of decor—something that was wholly unsurprising. And yet, it still looked out of place. After a couple seconds of staring, I quickly realized that it wasn’t because the door was set against the worn, but deliberately carved, wall. No, the painted red banners, each emblazoned with a horizontal, orange flame, were newer—and gaudier—additions to the wall. If Amethyst Vein was lying about anything, Firetail’s tendencies were not included.
I leaned toward Amethyst Vein and whispered, “You sure they’re not just going to sit here drinking all night?”
“They’re stupid and lazy, but they’re not that stupid,” she replied. “The unwritten rule is the officers turn a blind eye as long as they don’t catch anypony red-hoofed.”
Glancing back at the guards, I let out a short sigh. “Seems like even that pretense is pretty lax. I suppose that’s what eventually leaves the hole, though.”
Amethyst Vein nodded.
I took another moment to review our plan. Bellerophon’s memory only extended from the keep’s main hall into the inner sanctum, though supposedly Amethyst Vein and Old Ed knew the other areas well enough to get us there. Beyond that, Amethyst Vein was able to provide some guesses as to the routes of the guards inside, but it seemed Firetail was pretty intent on keeping her in the dark.
Merriweather was almost certainly important enough to be held within the sanctum. The real challenge would be figuring out, on the fly, how to rescue her and escape without alerting Firetail or Broken Tooth.
As I stewed in my thoughts, I almost wanted to laugh. Somehow, life had decided that fighting vicious thugs, each employed by a ruthless drug kingpin, wasn’t enough. Instead, I was to face an army of professional soldiers, led by the head of a thousand-year-old conspiracy, who also happened to be an equally ancient dragon.
I am not a large pony by any definition of the word, but at that moment, I felt microscopic.
And yet, there was still hope. Twilight, Pinkie, Rainbow Dash—they all faced world-ending villains on a yearly basis. If they could step up to that, perhaps I could step up to a ‘mere’ political power grab. As the fire rekindled in my heart, it was decided: I’d be damned before I let them kill my friend.
As the reverie of my self-pep-talk ended, so too, did the guards’ binge session. Once they were out of sight, we proceeded as casually as possible. While this held the unfortunate risk of getting us caught if the guards happened to double back, running up like a bunch of foals would make us look suspicious to everyone else. The streets may have been empty, but one can never know who is watching from an obscure window.
Amethyst Vein strode up to the door like she owned the place, which, given her status, had likely been true at some point. The door unlocked with little difficulty and she waved us through.
The first thing I noticed was an oddly musty smell. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, the reason became clear. Aside from a narrow path that cut its way to the far exit, the floor was covered in dust so thick that it was visible at the other end of the room. There were a rather generous amount of wall torches, but only the pillars closest to the path were lit. The rest of the room was populated by rows of barren, rusty bunks, their sheets lost to either time or confiscation.
As Amethyst Vein locked the door behind us, Old Ed stepped out from behind one of the nearest pillars. “You’re late.”
“Couldn’t be helped,” Amethyst Vein replied, disgust spreading across her face. “They boozed up half a flask in front of the door.”
“Figures.” Old Ed shook his head. “I checked up on the north wing. All the servants were accounted for as of an hour ago.”
“Damn! The ritual.” Star stepped in front of us, looking so badly like she wanted to bolt down the hall. “Are we too late?”
“Can’t say,” Old Ed said. “It’s not like he can do the real thing.”
“If I…” Pain slid across Night’s face as he squeezed the words out. “If I have Bellerophon, can he even do anything?”
“A control spell. In the very least, a geas.” By now, Star was staring daggers at the far exit.
I sighed. Always one step behind. “We’d better move, then.”
“With things as they are, we will have to part ways here,” Old Ed said. Perhaps I was imagining things, but there was just the slightest twinge of apology in his tone. “Take the hallway to the intersection and turn left. Pass two more intersections, then turn right, then left at the next. This will get you to the concourse just outside the sanctum. From there, you’re on your own.”
“Wait.” Amethyst trotted up beside Star. “I’m going too. I must see Firetail’s foulness for myself. Then there can be no denying his betrayal.”
“Don’t be foolish!” Old Ed hissed. “If you’re seen, you’ll be tied to them. He’ll brand you a traitor and the hope of our ponies will die with your fall!”
“Grrr! But, how can I just sit back and force foreigners to do our work for us?” She met his gaze with a fiery respect. “We have always fought with all our strength to preserve our home and we have always succeeded. This is our fight.”
Night raised his hoof, hesitating for just a moment before poking firmly at Amethyst Vein’s side. When she turned a steely look upon him, he shrunk a little, then met it with his own determination. “No, Bellerophon says that isn’t true. It’s his fight, started by ancient, misguided anger. He says… he says he’s sorry for the hardships you have endured and that tonight, he will do what he can to put things back on track.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Night? What is he planning?”
“Nothing more than what we’re already doing.” Night shook his head. “He says he’s already done enough rash things in his life.”
“That’s a relief.” I couldn’t help but smile.
Amethyst Vein’s expression turned to shock before finally becoming somber. She lowered her head. “I… I understand. If our cause is to be championed by Lord Bellerophon, then I will obey.”
“Stop.” Night looked her in the eye. “He says it’s not about obedience. He wants you to live. To live your lives for yourselves, not for some old pony from a different time. That is his gift—and apology—to you.”
Amethyst Vein simply stared in awe, her head bobbing to an unheard rhythm.
At last, Old Ed stepped in. “I see. Thank you, Lord Bellerophon. We will consider your words.”
“That’s… that’s all he could ask.” The conversation was clearly taking its toll on Night, but he was holding up quite well.
---
By Amethyst Vein’s limited accounts, the security would be somewhat lax, which seemed odd for a group that was preparing for war. Then again, I supposed if they thought that the exterior was impenetrable, they would see little point in posting many patrols. In fact, I had a suspicion that the guards’ purpose was less about sniffing out infiltrators, and more about keeping the servants from sticking their muzzles into places they didn’t belong.
Ironically, the servant quarters was probably the biggest question mark. While it was quite likely Firetail didn’t give a flying feather if anything happened to the servants, this night was especially important. It wouldn’t be entirely unreasonable to add a couple more sentries, so as to hem the help in.
It seemed that Firetail wasn’t quite so paranoid, which was just as well. The corridors were long with few breaks or cover. For this reason, I took pains to note anything that could be remotely useful. The most common irregularities were alcoves in the wall that looked to house modest supplies of firewood and torch materials. If we tried really hard, all three of us could probably fit, but anyone walking past would have to be blind not to see us in there.
The best place for hiding or retreat turned out to be a kitchen about halfway down the first turn. Like the servant quarters, it suffered from considerable disuse. Where the ground wasn’t littered by broken tables or fallen stones, much of it was populated by piles of dented pans and rusted cauldrons. Only a small section near the door was remotely clean, with clear access to a couple stone stoves. It was a bit more modest than what I imagined Firetail demanding, but then again, I had doubts that these servants even knew what a gourmet meal was, and yelling loudly certainly wouldn’t make it materialize.
We continued on without so much as a hint of opposition until we reached the concourse. The first thing I noticed was just how unlike the rest of the city, or even the servant quarters, this area was. The massive floor was swept clean and repaired, with a noticeably new coat of paint that gave it a whitish-grey shine. The numerous pillars and the walls had received the treatment, though the latter happened to have the raw deal of also acquiring a few of Firetail’s crests. All in all, the room had a very regal feel to it, such that I could almost see dozens of ponies lined up, waiting for their turn in the throne room.
Apparently, such a spacious room merited all of two guards, both of whom patrolled a sort of lazy, almost-perimeter.
Of course, this design also led us to our current issue. The grand, ten-foot doors were presently closed. It would probably take all three of us to push just one open and make enough noise to alert the entire keep. While there was a side door hidden just to the right of it, it was almost assuredly locked.
Taking the keys from a guard would be no easy task. Star’s aura would give her away and I didn’t exactly have practice pilfering things from people. However, I was also loathe to attack them directly, as starting a fight right away was a good way to ruin everything.
So, there I was: an inexperienced mare, huddled up against a pillar, waiting for the right moment to pickpocket a trained knight.
He’s getting closer. I think he’s staggering. Is he drunk too? Maybe that will be enough. As he passed by, I slid out, raising my wing, trying to ease a primary under the keys that were tucked into the girdle on his barrel. Steady… Steady… Too late!
I slumped back against the rear of the pillar, my heart racing. I’d almost had it, yet the angle didn’t feel right. Catching him as his weight came down was the most important part. Anything else, and I was almost sure to alert him. I visualized the plan over and over for so long that he very nearly passed me by again.
Okay. Breathe, Dusky. You can do this. One more time.
This time, everything felt fluid and as he shifted his weight forward, I eased the keys away. I slipped back behind the pillar, shifting the the keys under my wing and clutching them against my body, before I finally allowed myself to breathe again.
“Huh?” The dreaded sound emanated throughout the room, echoing in my ears I seized up. Stealing just the barest glance around the pillar, I could see the guard had stopped. He was staring ahead, but as his eyes turned toward his belt, my mind screamed at me to run. It took all of my willpower to remain still.
But the guard didn’t react. His eyes passed over the girdle without a second glance. That was when his head snapped to the other side. “Ah!”
His head came up with a flask held between his teeth. Each gulp was excruciatingly loud. One. Two. Three. All the way up to ten. When he’d had his fill, he replaced the flask and moved on. It was only when he was almost on the other side of the room that the panic subsided. My eyes flitted over to Night and Star’s pillars. Even though they were well into the shadows, I could tell that they had been as tense as I.
And we weren’t even at the hard part yet.
At least we had a bit of a consolation prize. Since the guards were working pretty hard to sabotage themselves, sneaking through the door was easier than it had any right to be. The turning of the lock and the creaking of the door certainly felt deafeningly loud, anyway.
The throne room wasn’t all that different from the concourse. In fact, it was a practically an extension, with the rear tapering to focus on the heavy stone chairs. The pair of them sat a good three feet off the ground, with a wide partition behind them. Thick metal rods spanned the gaps, though they had long lost their curtains. Instead, they held up a pair of small red banners that, once again, bore Firetail’s crest.
While we still checked the room, it was empty and dead quiet from the moment we entered. I don’t think it surprised anyone that we were completely alone.
I frowned. “Guess it was too much to ask for the easy escape.”
“Indeed,” Star said, sparing one of the banners a glare as she stepped around it. She squinted. “You are certain this will take us to this ‘Forge’?”
Night nodded. “Bellerophon says there’s no way he could forget his personal passage.”
Star glanced back. “Many things can change over one-thousand years.”
“Bellerophon says that The Forge is one of the most valuable artifacts in the world and that somepony would have to hate themselves very much to put so much effort into cutting off easy access.”
“Regardless,” I interjected. “We’re not going to get anything done standing around. This is our safest bet. We need to at least check it out before we consider storming the front door.”
Star sighed. “Good point. Let us make haste.”
While this passage wasn’t privy to the same makeover that the throne room had, the floor and walls had obviously been patched up within the last few years. The farther we went, the more confident I was that we weren’t going to end up cut off by a collapsed tunnel.
After a few minutes, Star’s pace began to steadily increase until she was practically cantering. I had a feeling that she’d be galloping if she felt she could get away with it. Given that the tunnel was about as abandoned as the throne room, there was a decent chance we could have.
As the end of the tunnel came into view, my heart sank a little. Two stone doors, carved with intricate, historical depictions of pegasi, barred our way. If the situation wasn’t so dire, I might have even called them cute. Please don’t be locked. Please don’t be locked.
Of course, it was. Dismayed, I pressed my hooves against it a couple more times just to be sure. With a frown, I turned my attention to the lock, which was set right into the gap between the two doors. Oddly enough, it looked almost exactly like a standard iron lock, but somehow made of stone.
“Stand back.” Star’s horn glowed.
“Whoa! Hold on.” I waved my hooves. “At least let me try the keys before we go blasting things apart.”
In truth, I had no idea how I was supposed to work a stone lock with a metal key. But if there was even a chance of remaining quiet, I was taking it.
“Wait, um, Bellerophon says there’s no need for that either.” Night stepped forward.
“Oh?” I tilted my head as I stood aside. “Well, I guess it is his castle.”
Night stared at the door, slowly raising his right hoof. The bracer seemed to glow a little as he touched the door. After a couple long moments, the centre of the lock began to emit a similar light. Without a sound it spun, breaking apart to slide open.
I froze, not daring to ask: was it the bracer or its owner that the lock recognized?
“I should have guessed.” The barest of smirks formed on Star’s lips. “You had some powerful allies.”
“He says sometimes being a ruler has benefits.”
“So it seems.” With that, Star darted forward, barely taking a moment to look both ways before proceeding to the left.
We hurried after her, though we didn’t have to go far. The new tunnel quickly widened, then ended, outlined in an ominous orange glow. As the heat washed over me, I had a pretty good idea why this place was called The Forge. Turns out, said idea wasn’t extreme enough.
The tunnel broke out into a grand hall, with rows and rows of stone benches forming semi-circles that lead down to a central sort of stage. The stage itself ended rather abruptly, dropping right off into a glowing pit of lava. Around that, I could see the barest shimmer of what must have been the shield stopping us from becoming roasted ponies. Looking a little more carefully, I noted that the stage was more of a workshop, and only the front of it at that. Tunnels burrowed into the mountain to the left and right, undoubtedly leading to numerous rooms just like the first.
Ponies in the usual gaudy gear were scattered throughout the entire area, though one stood out as the gaudiest of the gaudy. Right in the middle of the workshop loomed a bulky earth pony. Best I could tell, it wasn’t his natural stature so much as his armour. He was clad in full golden barding, bulky to the point that I was certain some of the pieces had been shaped expressly for that purpose. A large, two-foot plume sprouted from the top of his helmet, bending down into a pleasing crescent, though not enough to touch the flowing red cape upon his back. With the lava’s light giving him a sinister, orangey-red aura, only one thought crossed my mind: Ahuizotl would be proud.
Before him was Merriweather, bound and unmoving. She lay on her side, at such an angle that I had difficulty ascertaining her status. I couldn’t even be certain whether or not she was conscious. She was flanked on either side by two blobs of brightly coloured gaudiness, under which there were probably ponies. Interestingly, neither of the two guards, nor Firetail, appeared to be paying her any attention.
Instead, their gaze was set upon the guards who were roaming the upper reaches. A couple of them were keeping watch, but by and large, the other knights were either repairing or adjusting the various stone benches. Despite their distraction, their sheer number made the situation more than a little daunting.
Star cursed under her breath. “Two dozen guards and Firetail.”
“There’s no way we can take them on. Honestly, I don’t know if I’d be a match for one of them. We’ll have to find a way to sneak around and slip her out.” As I continued to survey the room, I fought to keep myself composed. “Somehow.”
“I will distract them while you retrieve Merriweather and Night secures our exit.” Star’s statement was not a suggestion; it was a matter of fact.
“Are you crazy?!” I whispered. “Even if you don’t engage them, they’ll corner you. And if all three of us can’t even take them on, what good will that do?”
“As somepony so obsessed with his status, Firetail is bound to certain rules of Ostfriesen etiquette. I will ensure he and his knights focus on that.” The whole plan was a rather devious maneuver. As long as Star could avoid excessively provoking them, Firetail’s peers would unknowingly work to our benefit. Still, the risk was significant, though I couldn’t say I had any better ideas.
Before I could do anything else, Star turned a look upon Firetail that I was certain could bore straight through his armour. “They are getting ready. There will not be another opportunity. Save my sister.”
And with that, she strode out into the room. All I could do was close my eyes and take a deep breath. This would be harder than anything I’d ever done. I wasn’t ready and yet—I had no choice.
I stole a glance at Night. “You’ll stay safe?”
He met my gaze, stepping forward to give me what could very well be our last nuzzle ever. “I will. And you too. No heroism.”
It was strange to hear him say that, to have him throw the phrasing back at me. On the surface, such a promise seemed meaningless in what could only be described as an insane scenario. And yet, it was more important than ever. We were doing this so everyone could come home—not three of us—everyone. As I leaned in, returning his nuzzle, I replied, “No heroism.”
I glanced back into the grand hall. By now, Star almost certainly had to be in position. Focus would be key here. I would have to keep track of everyone and what they were doing. After all, how else would I make someone disappear from right under their noses?
Even without saying anything, Star was already drawing attention. Many of the knights were abandoning their tasks to look at her. Oddly, no one moved to stop her, though I suspect that was because she almost seemed like she should belong among their number. At some point, Firetail had acquired a scroll, which he was completely engrossed in. The situation was almost comical.
With the majority of the eyes diverted, I made my move, creeping along the side of the walls, making my way toward the back. Despite a smattering of torches, there were a surprising amount of shadows for me to utilize. I found it a bit weird at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It was like any of those deep, large-windowed buildings that could be found anywhere in big cities. The sun would overwhelm the front area, making the rear seem far darker than it really was. Except, instead of a sun, we had a molten pit of death.
I’d just reached the back-right corner when Star called out, “Firetail!”
His first reaction was a pointed look of annoyance, but that quickly became recognition, then amusement. “My, my, the prodigal sister returns! Truly, this is a special day! Your sister and I have talked so much about you, Starshadow.”
“I am uninterested in your little games, Firetail.” By now, every eye was on Star, and as she held her blade in the air, a few guards readied their weapons. “I am here to regain the honour that was stripped from my clan by your accusations.”
Cringing, I scurried a little faster, coming up along the opposite wall. I’d expected her to try to fast talk him, not challenge him to a duel. Things were about to escalate—and if he wasn’t taken in by the gambit, go sour very, very quickly.
However, as every knight turned their attention to Firetail, Star’s efforts seemed to be going exactly to plan. After a couple moments, Firetail let out a boisterous laugh. He took a few steps forward, and pointed a hoof. “Seriously?! Seriously?! I don’t know how you found me, or how you got in here, but that’s all you want? To invoke some old honour duel?”
Undeterred, Star strode up onto the platform, though the guards at the top of the stairs, with some hesitation, barred her way. She talked around them as though they weren’t even there, her indignation requiring little acting. “An honourable death is more than you deserve. You are both a liar and a traitor, Firetail.”
As Firetail waved his guards away, the others took it as a cue to form a bit of a ring, eagerly awaiting the upcoming fight.
I almost wanted to laugh. What is this? A schoolyard hoof brawl?
But as much as I mocked it, the feeling was washed away by a wave of relief. In a way, I was grateful to them, as without this, there was no way I could have approached Merriweather. I eased my way across the floor, taking cover behind the benches.
“You have no idea what we’re doing here, do you?” Contempt oozed from his voice. “Ostfriesen is shackled by old laws of honour and bloodlines, but you know as well as I do the truth of Tapioca’s ancestors, and all the lies your honour is built upon. Bellerophon saw it even then.”
Star snorted. “I know you have been telling these ponies that Justicar Bellerophon will return to them, to lead them in some justified campaign for vengeance. But that is all just you feeding them lies. The royal lineage of Ostfriesen is as much Bellerophon’s as it is Tapioca’s.”
The circle tightened with each word, leaving Merriweather forgotten. All that was missing was for the crowd to start chanting.
I skulked up to Merriweather, who was just barely behind the line of knight butts. Even before I reached her, I could smell their body odour. Wrinkling my muzzle, I at least took solace in the fact that Merriweather’s bindings were made of rope, not chain. With the latter, I’d have had to carry her away, which would have been slow and noisy.
Slowly, steadily, I lowered my wing, sawing my blade in rhythm to the conversation.
“We all know that, but that’s not what those ponies outside this keep believe. I doubt you, heir to the great deceiver herself, can convince them otherwise. Of course, you could be of some use to us, I’m sure. Much like your sister is going to be.”
With the bindings cut, I pressed my hoof to Merriweather’s mouth. Groggily, her eyes slid open. When hers found mine, she raised an eyebrow. I shook my head, pressing my hoof against her lip one more time before motioning to the knights, then behind me.
As Merriweather followed my hoof, she seemed to get the idea. I tried to brace her as we moved, but doing so while sneaking was easier said than done.
Star scoffed. “What makes you think we would help scum like you?”
“Oh, I didn’t say anything about helping.”
I slid down off the platform. We were probably almost home free, though I didn’t know how much more material Star could milk out of that conversation. That was when Merriweather slipped, stumbling over the edge, missing me, and crashing into the nearest bench. The grinding of stone on stone echoed through the chamber.
One of the knights turned to look, looked back, then did a double take. “Huh? What the?! She’s escaped!”
“Shit! Run!” I yelled, swinging around Merriweather to give her a shove.
“I should have guessed that treachery ran in your blood! Seize th—agh!” Firetail’s voice fell away to a sound almost any pegasus would know: shattering ice.
“Lord Firetail!” shouted one of the knights.
“You are one to talk, traitor!” Star’s disdain echoed through the chamber. “Out of my way!”
A nova of magic blasted outward, sending several of the clustered knights sprawling. Almost all of the ones who had turned our way were suddenly focused on Star again.
Not wanting Star’s efforts to go to waste, I pushed Merriweather even harder. “Go! Go! Go!”
While she clambered to make headway, it quickly became clear that she was dead on her hooves. However they treated her had not been well. Despite Star’s help, we were climbing maybe half as fast as our pursuers.
My eyes darted around, searching for something, anything, that might help us. That’s when I remembered the stone benches. Random tools and materials rested on and around them.
“Keep going!” I yelled to Merriweather. “I have an idea!”
With that, I whirled and the dormant tools were returned to use. Hammers, stones, pickaxes—it didn’t matter. I sent all of it down the stairs. The knights cursed as they scrambled to get out of the way. Some tried push through my wall of debris, while the others fumbled their way up over the benches.
One mare in particular came up the side with reckless abandon. Even though she struck from below, the blows were well placed and I had to stay on the move to keep out of her reach. Each time she tried to climb up, I kicked something else at her, until finally, she went all in. I’d been saving a heavy iron bucket for such an occasion. With a quick buck, I sent the container spiraling off her muzzle. She quickly followed.
As I turned back to Merriweather, my heart sank. While we’d been busy with our pursuers, the remainder of the guard had climbed up the opposite side, cutting us off from the exits. Even worse, several had already moved forward, cutting us off from each other. Merriweather was surrounded somewhere twenty feet up. Star was steadily losing ground as she attempted to climb the lower benches. Out of the corner of my eye, I could already see several guards behind me.
Is this really it? Was this all for nothing?
There was nothing to do but surrender. While instinct commanded me to kick and thrash to the last breath, it would have been throwing away my life. As much as it hurt to once more find myself helpless, hoping against all odds that the enemy left an opening, it was still something.
Night followed shortly after us. Several flesh wounds trickled crusting red across his dust-covered coat. I cringed, imagining the wounds I couldn’t see.
Firetail was a volcano, both in appearance and emotion. A deep cut, undoubtedly from Star’s ice magic, drew a thick line down his cheek. The hatred in his eyes was directly almost entirely at Star, though as he screamed at the top of his lungs, I got the impression he wasn’t sure who he wanted to address. “You... filth! How dare you, how dare any of you!? I will be King of Ostfriesen, and nothing, not Queen Papaya, not the Knights, and especially not unworthy trash like you, will stop me.”
Bellerophon chuckled, with a sort of a derision that seemed incredibly unnatural coming from Night’s lips. “Unworthy trash? Every pony that stands here is a thousand times more worthy than you. You are just a power hungry fool who can't even see when he's being used.”
All at once, Star was no longer interesting to Firetail.
“And just who in Tartarus are you? No colours, no clan?” he screeched, pausing only to spit on Night’s face. “Is this the best help that the great Starshadow could find to help her? My how the mighty have fallen.”
Bellerophon smirked and held up the bracer. “This is who I am.”
Firetail’s anger was gone. He looked like he’d been kicked in the gut. When one of the guards tried to prod Bellerophon into obedience, Firetail waved him away. He stared a good ten seconds, likely searching for signs of a fake. At last, he stepped back. “That’s… you’re Bellero…”
A Maelstrom of flapping filled the room. But that was not the beating of pegasus wings, nor griffons, nor multiples of either. These were much heavier, something I couldn’t recognize. And yet, I knew there was only one thing it could be.
A blur with massive, leathery wings, crashed down onto the platform. As the dust settled, it revealed a tower of black, weathered scales. Though he was hunched over, he was still easily as big as a two-story house, with two rows of jagged teeth the size of lampposts. One of the larger ones was snapped at the base, leaving no doubt as to his identity.
Despite Broken Tooth’s size, I found my gaze drawn to his eyes. They bore a certain malicious zeal that scared me more than anything else.
“Lord Bellerophon.” Broken Tooth’s voice was like running sandpaper along my ears. As he leaned forward, his shadow practically blotted out Firetail, he grinned a grin to match his eyes. “Welcome home.”
I tensed as Broken Tooth’s head slid down, coming uncomfortably close; it would have been a simple matter for him to snap Night up. For the moment, they were eye to eye.
“Over one thousand years since last we met, my friend. It is good to see you back in flesh. I could not have foreseen the appearance of the Mare in the Moon—after that, I feared you were lost forever.” Even as the honeyed words left his mouth, there was a certain smugness to it, a poison dripping from his maw that tainted everything.
By now, there were more eyes on the dragon than us, but such a lapse meant little when we had the attention of a creature who could probably take on all of us at once.
Firetail seemed almost smug as he dusted himself off and approached Broken Tooth. “Ah, Broken Tooth. As you can see, we have the situation well in hoof. Better than that, in fact, now that we have—”
Broken Tooth’s ear twitched, though his eyes didn’t leave Night. “I can see that, Firetail. Now, step aside. Lord Bellerophon and I have catching up to do.”
With the grudgingness of a foal who had just been told to run along and play, Firetail obliged.
“I have nothing to say to you. You will let these ponies go, and you will end this madness.” Bellerophon was clearly testing the waters.
There would have been no surprise if Broken Tooth had simply laughed him off, but it seemed the charade still held some value. With a chuckle that left me feeling icky, Broken Tooth spoke, “Of course, of course. Whatever you think is best, Lord. Though, I have to wonder if you know who they really are. What lies have they been telling you in your time away?”
Continuing to push his luck, Bellerophon sneered. “Hmph. I know now where the lies started. It was not Tapio—”
Annoyance permeated Broken Tooth's voice as he bellowed over top of Bellerophon, “Tapioca betrayed you! Turned her back on you! I know your pain, Bellerophon. So do the ponies outside this keep. They have been betrayed by those in Ostfriesen, cast down and hunted. Now, your faithful await. They need your guidance. They need justice.”
Bellerophon was on his back hoof now, though he quickly regained the fire in his voice. “I cannot deny that those ponies exposed to your vile influence for so long need guidance.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence before Broken Tooth turned his head, an amused grin crossing his lips. “What's this? A little gnat still clings on? No wonder you feel so divided. You need only push away that pesky voice and claim your full strength.”
At first, I wondered if this was Broken Tooth’s insanity at work. However, as his words progressed, it suddenly hit me: he was talking to Night. When Bellerophon displaced him, he was somehow still here, but not. And if Broken Tooth could see Night, there was no telling what Broken Tooth might do to him. Even in the heart of a volcano, the thought of such magicks sent a chill down my spine.
“Bellerophon, you can’t…” I had to say it. Even though Bellerophon had promised to restore Night, under the combined pressure of The Forge and Broken Tooth, my doubts were suddenly enormous. In the end, the gesture was about as helpless as I felt, for Bellerophon could easily do as he pleased.
“I won’t.” Bellerophon shook his head, bringing Broken Tooth’s attention back to him. “There is nothing this lizard can offer me.”
Broken Tooth sighed the sigh of a father speaking to his unruly foal. “You speak as if you have a choice. If you won’t submit willingly, then we shall simply continue with our alternative plan with one modification. You’ve already weakened that host enough that subduing it will be far easier than a fresh host, and possessing your bracer gives me an even better claim to solidify my rule.”
“Our rule, you mean.” Firetail was suddenly in Broken Tooth’s face again. “Once Ostfriesen is conquered, I shall be King.”
Even through the hoarseness of Merriweather’s neglected voice, her derision was clear. “Firetail, you’re a moron. He just used you to get what he wanted out of Ostfriesen. Now that Belle’s here, he doesn't need you.”
“Yes, yes, you’ll have your position of power.” Broken Tooth waved Firetail away as he turned his glare to Merriweather, then the guards. “Soldiers. Execute those three. The existence of their bloodline offends me. I must deal with our guest of honour.”
I tensed. We would have to act soon, yet, there was no opening. Rushing them was almost certain death, though when the alternative was certain death, it didn’t take a gambler to tell me what to do. I could only hope we could coordinate something that might leave them disoriented long enough for us to get back into that secret passage.
“Don’t brush me aside! You said King before. I will be King of Ostfriesen. And these are my subjects. Do not think you can bypass my authority simply because we are on friendly terms!” Firetail pointed a hoof up at Broken Tooth’s muzzle.
Inwardly, I had to laugh. I had to, else my frayed nerves were liable to send me to tears. Here we were on the brink of death, with no escape to speak of, and the only thing keeping us alive? Firetail’s grandstanding. Ahuizotl would be damn proud.
“Fine. Do as you will, but don’t let her interfere.” Broken Tooth stalked closer, his eyes never leaving Night.
Desperately, I looked for something, anything I could use. However, slaying a dragon with a couple buckets just wasn’t going to happen. Even if I could take a weapon from one of Firetail’s soldiers, I seriously doubted it would get through such thick scales.
Then, as though to mock me, Broken Tooth took one of his own talons to himself, sliding it several inches beyond the scales. When he withdrew his claw, a thick sheen of blood clung to it. A sickly purple glow surrounded him as he held his talon in front of Night’s face. Silence filled the room once more. Broken Tooth stared with an intensity that seemed to mesmerize everyone else. While nothing appeared to happen, I was convinced he had to be doing something terrible to Night.
Following up on a conversation only he could hear, Broken Tooth spoke with growing impatience, “Only a matter of time. This body is far too old, but I can still do what is needed. You’re going to accept this blessing, my old friend. Whether you want it or not.”
“I'll have my share of the bounty as well, thank you very much.” A smug look crossed Firetail’s face as he stepped in front of Broken Tooth. A dark purple flame erupted from Firetail’s back, engulfing his form, though a bright green cut through where his eyes would be.
Reflexively, I stepped back. While I’d encountered a Shadow Walker years ago, it did little to blunt the oppressiveness of his form. To sell one’s self for power—even the power of magic—that did not sit well with me. And I say that as someone who has studied unicorn magic, been utterly baffled by it and always wished I could understand it. No, to lose a part of myself was to cease to be myself. No amount of power was worth that. The only thing keeping me from freaking out even more was the fact that Firetail had already been preempted by the ancient dragon standing right beside him.
The blood on Broken Tooth’s claw began to tremble and at last, his attention was diverted. While his anger wasn’t readily apparent, it bubbled just below the surface. “Just what do you think you’re doing, Firetail?”
Firetail drew himself tall. “Showing you how much you need me. Although we both hold mastery over magic, I am the one who holds the court in my hoof. Without their support, you will never appear more than a crazed old dragon backing a mongrel of a warlord without so much as a claim to Bellerophon’s bloodline!”
Even though Star and I saw the same opportunity, she beat me to the punch, shouting, “The ponies outside already think he's Bellerophon. They've seen the bracer. They’ve heard him say the first name!”
There was no way Firetail could back down now. Not in front of his troops. If we could just incite them a little more, perhaps there would be a chance to escape.
Whirling upon Star, Firetail spat on the ground. “I don’t care what those worthless peasants think! And neither does the rest of Ostfriesen! It is only us nobles who can bring about Bellerophon’s restoration!”
A deep, guttural laugh brought the rest of the room back to silence. Each chuckle was more intense than the last, creating a cacophony amongst itself. While Broken Tooth’s amusement appeared genuine, there was nothing less unnerving about it.
“Pitiful pony!” he bellowed. “You have seen but a fraction of my power! What do I care if Bellerophon is recognized as legitimate by your council of clowns?”
Firetail sputtered. “What?! Are you mad? You cannot rule without political power! You’ll be overthrown in a week!”
Broken Tooth’s laugh filled the cavern again. “No. You cannot rule without it. Whatever turmoil your precious little politicians cause will be inconsequential. No… it will feed into my conquest! When I stand upon the ashes of Tapioca’s nation, they shall know just how helpless they really were!”
“No! I will be King! I will not allow you to destroy what is mine!” Firetail stepped forward, though he made no move to attack. His troops stood confused, eyes flitting back and forth between him and Broken Tooth.
There was something more going on. Small, almost imperceptible ripples of something cut in and out of existence between the clashing auras of dark magic. I couldn’t quite be sure, but whatever they were, they seemed to be bouncing between Night, Firetail and Broken Tooth. Each remained stock still, and yet, I could see sweat forming on Firetail’s and Night’s brow that I suspected wasn’t from the heat.
One of Firetail’s eyes flitted over to his guards. “What are you waiting for? Kill him!”
“Th-the Oracle?” one of the guards answered, staring up at the towering dragon.
“Yes, you idiots!” Firetail hissed.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” Amethyst Vein’s voice echoed through the chamber. I glanced back to see a purple blot standing up at the far back of the room. She was already surrounded by what were presumably militia ponies, with more filtering in from the side passages.
“What?! Who gave you permission to be here?!” Firetail practically screamed back.
“In case you didn’t notice, this is our country! Not yours!” Amethyst Vein and many of her soldiers began advancing on the workshop. “You and your thugs have already caused untold damage! I tolerated it because The Oracle deemed you worthy of trust! But now I see just how pathetic worms like you answer to such trust!”
Firetail’s speech was beginning to waver, short grunts interlacing the words. “You poor, naive, idiot! Can’t you see? Your ‘Oracle’ is insane. I am your only hope for a future!”
“Do not listen to him! It is as you say! He is a traitor who seeks now to assassinate me!” Broken Tooth called out. I thought I saw a deep look of satisfaction cross Amethyst Vein’s face before it returned to indignation.
“Grah! Screw it!” Firetail screamed. “Kill them all!”
“What?!” the same guard as before asked. “Sir, we’re out—”
“JUST DO IT!” Firetail’s voice carried a tone of insanity that rivaled Broken Tooth’s.
No one moved as the echoes of Firetail’s words left the hall. Still, they readied their weapons—some more eagerly than others. As each member of each mob turned, finding their targets, I tensed. ‘Messy’ didn’t even begin to describe what was about to happen.
If the chaos was enough to distract Broken Tooth, this would be our chance. I stole a glance at Merriweather, who looked little better than before, and Night, who was about ready to buckle under the strain of whatever Broken Tooth had done. It was likely we’d have to carry both of them while somehow eluding a dragon. This would have to be Discord levels of chaos.
“For Lord Bellerophon! For Olymponis!” Amethyst Vein cried. A wave of barely synched mimicry followed. Then, all hell broke loose.
Screams of every variety intermingled the clanging of metal on metal. Danger could come from any angle, and though I tried to keep track of it all anyway, it didn’t take long before I felt like my eyes and ears were going to explode. However despite being right smack in the middle of the battle, Night, Broken Tooth and Firetail all remained focused on each other. There was no way I was slipping him out.
That was when I noticed that not only were Night and Firetail sweating, but so was Broken Tooth. Or rather, whatever dragon equivalent of intense sweating made him look like he was about to pop a scale or two. To further the oddity, Night’s stance had changed, returning him to himself. What is Bellerophon thinking?
My first worry was that he had been unable to keep up with what I was now convinced was some kind of battle of wills. As the first line of defense, he would have exhausted before Night, leaving Night to fend for himself. Contemplating it a bit more, I came to realize that this was our advantage. In this magical battle, Firetail and Broken Tooth faced three opponents, whereas Night and Bellerophon were able to even their odds. My mother had always told me that lopsided fights grew exponentially more difficult and that they should be avoided unless absolutely necessary. It seemed that even mighty dragons were not immune to such complications.
However, as one of Firetail’s guards came charging in on Broken Tooth’s flank, and was subsequently swatted aside with Broken Tooth barely breaking eye contact, I was firmly reminded that not all participants on all battlefields were equal.
Knowing that Night would not fare so well against such an ambush, I hurried to his side, a newfound fervour to my vigilance. Somewhere halfway up, one of Firetail’s guards rolled down the left-most steps, pursued by three or four militia. On the other side, a wall of militia smashed itself against a smaller, but sturdier, wall of guards. Archers on both sides frantically sent bolts sailing at each other, many of which went wide in such a large arena. Despite having the high ground, the militia’s lower quality of equipment seemed to be taking its toll as Firetail’s guards landed more lucky shots.
Thankfully, we were relatively safer from errant projectiles. It wasn’t that either side was avoiding firing at us, so much as if they wanted to hit something, they had to shoot around the two-story dragon. The greater majority of what did come near us plinked off Broken Tooth with little more effect than rubber balls.
“This way!” Amethyst Vein shouted as her forces broke through the left side. “Firetail and his treachery end today!”
“Gah! P-protect me, you idiots!” Firetail screeched.
The closest archers did what they could, forming the shambles of a semi-circle around him. Still, they remained disciplined enough, pelting the incoming mob with some well-placed shots that I could almost feel in my gut. And yet, this did little to deter the fanatics. Many of them even pressed forward as though they hadn’t been shot. The situation quickly devolved into another all-out brawl.
Firetail’s soldiers held fast, keeping their lord safe, but that was about all they could manage. Even though they were repelled again and again, the militia was relentless. All the while, Firetail was still screaming, “Kill them! Kill them all!”
That was when a couple bloodied soldiers were pushed our way. Spying Night in his vulnerable state, they went for the easy target. Star stepped in the way of the first, expertly diverting the mare’s course, despite a lack of weaponry. That left the stallion to me.
I fought with a ferocity I hadn’t felt since the Cartel cornered me in that abandoned warehouse—perhaps even harder. I almost felt clairvoyant, weaving around his blade and striking at the few soft spots his barding left exposed. But in the end, the fact of the matter was that I was the underdog in terms of training, and fighting unarmed against a blade. The majority of my efforts slowed him at best and pissed him off at worst.
His next blow only served to drive home my own ineptitude. As I stepped away from a heavy, vertical swing, he lunged forward, slamming into me and shoving me aside. If I’d still had my wingblade, I might have punished him for his arrogance. Instead, my counterattack simply glanced off his neck.
With a wicked grin, he spun, bring his blade toward Night’s throat. Though Night tried to move out of the way, something made him stiffen, gritting his teeth as he froze in place.
I wanted to call out Night’s name, wished that I could simply materialize in the way of the blade to parry it. But I didn’t have time.
Molten fire splattered against the guard’s chest, superheating his barding, and launching him into the air. He tumbled head over hooves until he slammed into one of Broken Tooth’s feet.
Breathing a sigh of relief, my eyes flitted to the magic’s source: Merriweather. She gave me a knowing half-grin that told me, ‘I’m not out of this yet.’ However, the moment didn’t last long as a shrill scream of agony made us jump.
The guard was now beneath Broken Tooth’s claw, crying for help as he was ground against the unforgiving stone. As sickening pops and crunches filled the air, I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. Then I wanted to lose my lunch, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stare.
“Insects! Stop interfering! Stop! Interfering!” Broken Tooth roared. With his current victim little more than a mess of twisted metal and paste, he turned his ire upon the skirmishes around him. Without care for friend or foe, he smashed each of the combatants.
“Oracle! Wait, we’re on your—” Amethyst Vein called out, though her words merely directed a claw her way.
“Look out!” I shouted. I didn’t know why. If she hadn’t already dodged the strike, it was already too late.
Old Ed leapt in, streaking like a bolt of lightning. As he knocked Amethyst Vein clear, he brought up a hoofblade, swinging it in what should have been a futile arc. But there was something different about this one. While being gold wasn’t too uncharacteristic of a bracer, there was an obvious scaled texture, surrounding a large, red gem. The blade itself radiated power, almost like it was nothing but. Just looking at it, I knew the results would be different.
Still, I had a moment of doubt. The blade didn’t. Scales parted like water before a boat and the subsequent roar was so ear-rending that the entirety of the battlefield froze. Except for Old Ed. He spun as the claw lifted away, leaving Broken Tooth’s side exposed. Without hesitating, he jumped up, driving the blade in just above the hindquarters.
Then Broken Tooth showed us just what ear-rending really was. Before I knew what was happening, I was on the ground, wings over my ears, wishing my head would just explode to get it over with.
After several long moments, I finally eased my eyes open. Everything was still there. I wasn’t dead yet, though everything was muted. Everything, that is, except for Broken Tooth, whose voice boomed like thunder clouds.
“You dare... you dare to attack your superior?!”
“The moment you laid claw on my comrades was the moment you lost that claim, beast!” Old Ed’s retort was barely audible.
“Ingrates! All of you! It is only by my grace that you have survived as long as you have!” Broken Tooth raised a claw again, but after about halfway, he cringed, clutching at the wound that was now oozing blood. “Gah! What is this?”
“The power of Lord Bellerophon’s blade, ‘Oracle’,” Old Ed sneered. “Seems he found you wanting.”
“Impossible! The blue one wears his blade!”
“It’s true,” Night mumbled out beside me. “I have it and Bellerophon says he only has one bracer.”
“Then why was it amongst his armour?” Old Ed leveled the blade. “Give it up. This charade is over.”
“Hah, so you were the one who broke into the vault. Do you know what the penalty is for stealing a king’s treasure? Death!” With that, his maw opened, a disgusting purple flame erupting. In the instant before Amethyst Vein and Old Ed vanished, I saw him leap in front of her.
I threw myself to the ground, taking Night with me. But the flame stopped short, a shimmering blue glow holding it at bay. Together, Star and Merriweather stood beside us, a steady stream of magic flowing from their horns to the the barrier.
Before I could even breathe a sigh of relief, Night began to convulse beneath me. “Night?!”
The flames were gone now, leaving little more than blackened husks in the closest vicinity. Amethyst Vein and Old Ed were nowhere to be seen. My heart sank. Are we next?
Broken Tooth was half-covered in his own blood by now. “Grah! If… If this is to be the end. Then you are all coming with me!”
That would be a yes. I glanced around, looking for cover. Even if Star and Merriweather could protect us from the next barrage, I didn’t know how much more they could take.
However, instead of flame, there was something else, something I couldn’t quite put my hoof on. Whatever it was, it slid past me like a thief in the darkness. Before I could question it, Night screamed in agony, squirming as he rolled and pawed at the ground. I wished I could do something, anything, but I was no mage. All I could do was wrap a wing around him and hold him tight.
“What is it?” Star gasped.
“He said it was burning his mind,” I replied.
Merriweather, though she looked exhausted, pulled herself tall. Her eyes flitted over to Star. “Reinforce the physical. I’ve got the psychic.”
“We’ll be spreading ourselves too thin!” Star grunted.
“I know that!” Merriweather shook her head. “But we have no choice! Night’ll die!”
“Then… we stand together!” Star cried out, a second layer of aura enveloping her horn.
“Together!” Merriweather yelled, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, as her horn did the same.
“Together,” I whispered, holding Night closer.
It took me a few moments, but I soon realized it wasn’t just Night screaming. Firetail had also fallen, writhing on the spot. Even Broken Tooth was hunched over, practically face-planting into the ground. That eerie purple fire began to emit from all of them, rising from their ears, eyes and nose, like smoke.
“Star! Merri!” I yelled. “It just got worse!”
“Guh… I can’t give it any more. Star! Switch to psychic!” Merri called.
Star grunted. “If he breathes fire again, we’re done!”
“I don’t think he’s in any condition for that!” I interjected.
Without another word, Star shifted her stance. As both sisters poured their magic into the barrier, Night’s convulsions decreased and the fire seemed to dissipate.
Firetail had no such luck as the fires continued to climb. There reached a point where his flailing started to fall off more and more until at last he was still, the only movement left being the ominous purple.
And yet, that was not even the worst of it. No, Broken Tooth was a horrifying, living demonstration of how far things could go. His scales peeled away, revealing not muscle, nor blood, but more flame. Even his bones were barely there, dissipating into the fire as it became his whole being. This new apparition floated upward until it touched the ceiling, at which point it detonated, a roiling wave of purple blotting out everything as it crashed down upon us.
But there was no heat, no burning. No ceiling collapse. It was strange, tingly, perhaps cold might be the best way to describe it; a blast of emptiness that touched all parts of me. In the end, I couldn’t be sure if I was just delirious from exhaustion, but I swore I felt as though it had shaved off a part of my soul.
“Ugh… D-Dusky I… I’m back… like I promised.” Night groaned. There was only one thing I could do: hug him more. After that, I gave him a onceover. He was battered, cut and bruised, but for the most part, if he got proper bed rest, I doubted he’d be out for long—a miracle considering what we’d just been through.
Star and Merri seemed to fare better. In fact, they seemed to be the only ones left standing, though they looked like they might keel over from a stiff breeze. Slowly, gingerly, I gave them their own hug and assessment. Beyond the exhaustion, all I could say was that Merri needed a good, hearty meal or two. Otherwise, I had to trust their judgment when they said that they’d overdone themselves magic-wise and that it would right itself in a couple days.
With everyone accounted for, we turned our attention upward. The closest of the stone benches had been completely flattened. Even a few feet up, the benches were disfigured to a disturbing degree.
Everyone else down in the workshop was dead. Firetail’s forces had been all but wiped out. The few left up top had surrendered. The militia was more numerous. While many had been down below with us, even more had still been fighting above. It was almost uncanny how they dealt with the loss, many moving on as though nothing had happened.
Is this a price of the Badlands?
Just outside of the worst of the carnage, a sizable group had gathered. When we reached them, they all parted to look at us. Some of them were suspicious, but the greater majority seemed too tired to care so long as we weren’t brandishing weapons.
On the ground, resting against a stone bench were Amethyst Vein and Old Ed. The former was beaten and burned, but it didn’t seem to slow her down in the slightest. For the latter, it was notable to find portions of his coat where more than a few hairs were still intact. Here and there, small plumes of purple radiated off of him, pulsing in time with his ragged breathing.
“You idiot! Why?” Amethyst Vein pressed her head against his withers.
“It’s... my job. I’m the retainer… of a proud and noble… bloodline,” Old Ed managed a bit of a smile as he pressed against hers.
“That’s not fair! You… you’re family to me! You can’t just go doing stuff like that!” She prodded at his chest.
“If the alternative… was to let you be crushed by… that beast, then… you’ll just have to deal with it.” Astonishingly, Old Ed still had enough strength to bat her hoof away.
“Beast… Why was the Oracle acting like that?” Amethyst Vein shook her head.
“He was insane.” Old Ed’s statement was on the tip of everyone’s tongue, though I doubt she would have believed it from anyone but him. It was a bit strange to hear it coming from him, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how he’d always abstained from giving an opinion. “He only meant... to use you. I’m sorry, Amethyst.”
She blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“The whole… hunting accident. It was a setup. He… couldn’t control your parents any longer… There were tracks… something else, other than wyverns… But the search party… all working for him. I couldn’t prove it. So, I am… sorry, Amethyst. For failing then. For failing to get you out until now.”
Amethyst Vein shook her head. “No, you’ve done more than I could ever ask.”
“Good. The fight is… finally over.” Old Ed let the mysterious bracer fall away, clattering to the ground.
“Hey,” Merri said as she stepped forward. “Give it a rest. You keep straining yourself and the damage might stick. Right, Sis’?”
Star nodded. “It is fortunate, as I do not think anypony here is in any condition to administer a healing spell.
“Fortunate?” I asked, stealing a glance back at the workshop. “More like miraculous, considering what happened to the others.”
“The Dragonbane.” Suddenly, all eyes were on Night or rather—Bellerophon. I couldn’t help but frown, though I did not interrupt him. “Where did you get it? It shouldn’t be here.”
“From the royal vault… same chest as your armour.” His answer came as readily as before.
Bellerophon creased Night’s brow. “Impossible… We forged these to cut through scales, to protect the wielder from dragonfire. Eight were made. Two for Tapioca, six for the founding clans. It’s not something they would have given away.”
It only made sense. Whatever Tapioca had negotiated, she’d been at the disadvantage. The dragons could have changed their mind at any moment and it would have been foolish to be unprepared.
“What about Firetail?” I asked.
Merri shook her head. “No way. Firetail’s line is small potatoes compared to those of the founders.”
“As such, it is also unlikely that Firetail’s followers would have included any from those houses,” Star added.
“And why store it in the vault? Why store it with m—” Bellerophon spent nearly the next minute deep in thought before a word escaped Night’s lips, “Tapioca.”
“What?” I tilted my head.
“She left it… Tapioca must have left it when I… when I passed on.” Bellerophon looked almost overwhelmed as he turned somewhat mechanically to look at Amethyst Vein. “You now need to start being the regent these ponies need, not the one manufactured by Broken Tooth. Ostfriesen is not the enemy of Olymponis.”
Slowly, Bellerophon turned around, looking down upon the workshop.
“Wh-what? Wait!” Amethyst Vein scrambled to her hooves. “Lord Bellerophon? What about you? Surely, you would be better suited to the task!”
“I think not. My dealings with Broken Tooth are what led to this. These are your ponies to lead, Amethyst Vein.” There was a certain melancholy to Bellerophon’s voice. I supposed in a way, these were his children.
“No! We need you! Please!” Amethyst Vein gave voice to their concern, but with the way the crowd looked at Night, it was clear the entirety of them thought the same way.
It was my turn to shake my head. “He really can’t. You have to understand, the strain is already too much for Night. If this continues, it may just consume him. I can’t allow that!”
Star turned to Merri. “Did you find anything?”
“I’m sorry.” Merri kicked a hoof. “I tried to bargain with Firetail. I said I’d bring him the bracer if he only told me how to reverse the spell. But all he did was tie me up. And not even in the fun way.”
“It doesn’t matter. I will not lead you, Amethyst Vein. I can only advise you as best I can. After everything that’s happened, everything that I’ve seen, I can make no other choice. I’m staying.” Bellerophon said.
“What? What about Night?!” I asked, anxiety rising in my chest. It seemed like he’d found closure, as though he’d been ready to move on. I’d hoped that that would be the end, that somehow that would release Night from his grasp. Then he had to go and say that. And yet, something in my gut that told me he wouldn’t go back on his word. “What are you planning?”
“When we fought, what Broken Tooth wanted to do to me, he opened a connection between he and I. But so did Firetail. That magic is fading, but it’s still there.” His gaze turned to the still-smoldering body of Firetail.
“Wha—” I began, but then I saw Firetail’s body twitch. Once. Twice. Little by little, the purple fires shrunk until they had been extinguished. A thin layer of magic washed over him, leaving his coat a blue just a little paler than Night’s and his mane a bold sky blue.
As Night fell to his haunches, Bellerophon arose. He looked up at us, pausing briefly to give Night an apologetic look, before turning his gaze to the people of Olymponis. “I am home.”
I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or sick. To see Bellerophon off on his own, to know that Night was now safe, it made me smile. But at the same time, this end result was a vivid reminder of what could have happened to Night—what he had been inches away from. The thought of cutting part of one’s self away for power already made me nauseous, but this—that a monster like Broken Tooth could forcefully obliterate Night’s entire being, even being crushed beneath that massive claw seemed less cruel. And yet, I couldn’t look away.
The warriors of Olymponis remained awestruck, watching Bellerophon as though he had the divine power to alter reality. The more I thought about it, the more I could sympathize. Misguided fanaticism aside, many Equestrians look to Princess Celestia and Princess Luna with similar reverence.
When none of them said anything, Bellerophon removed Firetail’s helmet, almost using it as something of a mirror as he set it down. While he stretched his neck, I supposed it was probably as weird for him as it was for Night. Not to say that I wasn’t weirded out, but I hadn’t had to share a mind with anyone.
As if to punctuate this, Bellerophon’s eyes settled on Night while he spoke, “Ahhh. Such an odd feeling. Another unfamiliar body, and no wings. That shall take time to adjust to.”
For Night’s part, he just looked down, uncomfortably shuffling his hooves. I slipped a little closer, pressing my muzzle into his mane.
Amethyst Vein brought a spear to bear, standing before Bellerophon with as much confidence as uncertainty. “Is this a trick? Who are you? Firetail? Lord Bellerophon? I... I won’t let this farce repeat.”
To be fair, had I not spent so much time watching Bellerophon in Night’s body, I would have shared her doubts. Regardless, Bellerophon seemed undeterred, even going so far as to kneel before her, pointedly exposing his throat.
“I was once Swift Wing, who took the title Lord Bellerophon, First Knight of Queen Tapioca, Justicar of Ostfriesen. But now, I renounce all those titles, all those legacies, and bow to you.”
Amethyst Vein’s spear clattered to the floor. “You are Lord Bellerophon. Y-you can’t just renounce! We need you! You’re—”
“I’m an old fool, who let his anger rule him for too long.” Bellerophon stood, though his head remained lowered. “I will be a guide, Lady Amethyst, but little more. I wish to see Olymponis restored, but not through war and conquest as Firetail wished, nor the bloodshed which Broken Tooth intended.”
Old Ed let out a chuckle and while he tried to stand, his wounds didn’t let him get far. Regardless, there was a look of pride in his eyes. “I’ve served your family line as long as I can remember. Always, you’ve treated your position with respect, and those under your rule, fairly. I would serve no other, be they noble lord or prophesied hero.”
“On that, I agree. No more prophecies.” Bellerophon looked up, addressing the crowd as a whole before returning his gaze to Amethyst Vein. “No more oracles. It is time that you simply do what is best for Olymponis and its people.”
“I don’t even know where to begin. I'm no noble, I'm just…” Amethyst Vein glanced behind her. Though battered and tired, the militia looked at her with nothing short of respect.
“What do they need?” Bellerophon asked.
While her demeanour didn’t change, her words flowed as smoothly as water. “Food. Good food, better than the scraps and mushrooms we’ve had. Supplies too, so we can repair the city. We also lack good healers and medicine.”
It wasn’t quite what Bellerophon meant, but seemed to prove his point all the same. He smiled. “You know better than I what your people want. What they need. I will help. For as long as necessary.”
Amethyst Vein bowed her head. Even given that everything we’d done since we arrived had worked to dispel whatever fantasy she had of the return of Bellerophon, I imagined it was still very deeply rooted. I was beginning to wonder if she was going to ask for a moment to herself when she finally answered, “Very well.”
The crowd’s cheer that followed was not unexpected. While I had little doubt that a Bellerophon-backed candidate played some part in their joy, Amethyst Vein herself was more important. She had long been their leader, getting them by during a time when not one, but two tyrants ruled the city. She was their rallying point—their icon.
“And you.” Amethyst Vein turned to Night. She no longer wore that look of reverent desire, yet there was clear respect, like a warrior’s acknowledgement. “You have our thanks. You returned Lord Bellerophon to us, and through him, delivered us from this oppression. We owe you much.”
Night shrunk away. “You don’t owe me anything. I... I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Nothing? Surely, we can find something for you. Some weapon, or armour. The old vaults still have some items from the Forge. A new hoofblade, or perhaps a—”
“N-no, please. Nothing. I don’t want anything.” At this point Night looked about ready to curl up into a ball. It was impossible to blame him. Last time he got an Ostfriesen artifact, it almost possessed him. Out here, it was a total warzone, with levels of death and pain that I could barely stomach. Whatever he was feeling was doubtlessly magnitudes worse.
I was about to interject when Star stepped in front of us and cleared her throat. “What Night means to say is that we accept your offer most humbly, but our journey home will be quite difficult. If you could see to our supply needs, that would be an incredible boon.”
With that handled, I placed a hoof against Night’s withers. He relaxed a little.
Amethyst Vein’s eyes were still on Night, her confusion all but obvious. “As I’ve said, we haven’t a great deal of foodstuffs, though I believe we may find plenty of good rations when we examine the quarters where Firetail’s rabble were housed.”
“Whatever you can spare will be more than enough,” Star replied. “Thank you Lady Amethyst.”
“Dame Starshadow, a moment.” Bellerophon pondered. “I do not believe there would be reason for you and your sister to return to Equestria.”
Star’s eyebrow was raised before he even finished talking. “What do you mean?”
“Yeah, Belly?” Merri chimed in. “I was exiled. For sleeping with err… well, you? Kinda gross now that you’re in there.”
Bellerophon nodded. “Precisely. The accusations made against you, Dame Merriweather, can now be cleared quite decisively. In fact, your part in this battle shall surely prove that you had Ostfriesen’s best interests in mind—not only in preventing civil war, but in securing a new ally. I am certain your Queen will be very pleased to hear of your exploits.”
Merri’s eyes flitted over to Star. “Sis’… do you think...?”
“Very likely, yes.” Star closed her eyes, bobbing her head every so often as though mentally checking off a box. “With Bellerophon’s unique circumstances and the considerable evidence of Firetail’s misdeeds, there is almost certainly enough evidence to clear your name.”
“Oh… well, that’s uh, great, eh Sis’?” Merri’s eyes drifted over to Night and I. “We can go home.”
I wondered if either of them had considered this outcome. Merri’s voice carried a sort of melancholy that suggested she hadn’t, but at the same time, I had been prepared for that possibility, yet felt much the same. I’d said goodbye to many friends in the past, as is inevitable when someone travels as much as I. But for that same reason, it was never really goodbye forever. Technically, this was a similar case, though The Badlands presented a rather significant barrier to me stopping by for a visit.
Still, I couldn’t begrudge them wanting to go home. Were I banished from Ponyville, only to have the opportunity to return, I wouldn’t be able to refuse.
“Even in the meantime, I am sure that Regent Amethyst would be willing to allow you to stay here.” Bellerophon’s words were immediately followed by a nod from Amethyst Vein.
Merri took a deep breath, though it escaped as a bit of a laugh. “Well, good. Everything turned out great, then. We got Night all de-possessed and we get to go home.”
“Sister, are you sure?” Star watched her carefully.
“Yeah, it’s fine. We’ve done more harm than good in Equestria, anyway. I mean, first Terra, then Flurry.” Merri smiled sheepishly as her gaze briefly turned to Night and I. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been properly pampered anyways.”
“Very well, then,” Star said. “I am honoured, Lord Bellerophon, that you would make such a consideration on our behalf, but I am afraid I must decline.”
Merri’s eyes snapped to Star. “Wait, what? Sis’?”
Star met her with an unwavering smile. “I long to see home, and it would do my heart good to know that I could return someday. For that, I would be most thankful. However, for now, my sister and I have found a new home in Equestria. It may not be where we were born, or what we are familiar with, but it is quite peaceful, and we have found ourselves quite fortunate to have several wonderful friends. Friends who are willing to cross over deadly badlands, fight terrible creatures, and brave the darkest of situations to save those they love. It would be a disservice to abandon them.”
“Sis’…” Merri stole a glance at Night and I, just long enough to wink. “You guys are too much~.”
I smirked. “If you want to be pampered, I’ll take you to the Ponyville spa once we’re home.”
“It’s a deal.”
---
“Dusky?” Star asked. She was standing just a couple feet from my bed. “Are you okay?”
I blinked, barely remembering what I’d been thinking. With all the danger gone, I suppose my body was collecting on that energy deficit. “Yeah, sorry, I must have zoned out a bit.”
Amethyst Vein insisted we take one of the rooms that Firetail’s goons had been using. While it hadn’t been refurbished, the place was, unsurprisingly, better than anything we’d seen in the city. Had I not seen the repaired hall and throne room, I might have even called these chipped walls more or less pristine. Cleaning up had been as simple as piling all the usurpers’ stuff into the back corner and laying a relatively fresh burlap sack over the beds’ used hay.
While the latter would normally be pretty gross, the fact of the matter was that I’d recently been in several life-or-death battles, topped off by a quick journey back into the Badlands, and maybe half a bucket of stale water with which to wash up. If that bed wasn’t already as dirty as I, it would be.
I don’t know if Night and Merri had come to the same conclusion or were just too exhausted to care, but each of them had also taken up a bed. Both of them were peering around Star with a tired look that I very likely mirrored.
“Perhaps it was too soon to go out,” Star said.
I shook my head. “No, that mare had already been tied up for nearly two days. If one of us hadn’t guided the rescue party, it might have been too late. Besides, I’m not the one who had to fight off an ancient dragon’s super magic.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Merri asked.
“You could say that. I was able to guess what was going on at times, but when things got more intense, it was like trying to watch an invisible fight. There was nothing I could do—I was kind of just… there.”
“I’m glad you were there!” Night blurted out, blushing a little when I looked at him. “I… I mean, wh-when Broken Tooth was attacking me, I thought I might break, but just knowing you were there... it made me stronger.”
“Thanks, Night.” I couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was being a little dramatic, but it’s not like he was embellishing things. That was just who he was, and with Bellerophon gone, I’d only be too happy to see it all the time.
After a moment, Star said, “If you want an explanation, I can give you one, but the details are a bit complex.”
“Just leave all the in-depth spell theory out, Sis’, geez,” Merri quipped.
Star met her with a half-scowl, half-smile. “I was not going to go in depth.”
I grinned at both of them. “I’d appreciate it.”
“It all began with a mind-link spell.” Star’s expression turned serious again. “It was a stronger version than any I have heard of. More dangerous, as well.”
“You’re talking about the results of the final clash?” I shuddered as I recalled that wave of negative energy.
Star nodded. “Precisely. From what I could observe, there was no limit on the amount of energy that could pass between the link, something that could result in a long list of feedback accidents—or what Broken Tooth did. No sane mage would willingly employ such a spell.”
“Then that dumbass replicated the spell without knowing what it was,” Merri said, stretching back in her bed.
“The case for his sanity was always questionable at best.” Star shook her head. “Somehow, I do not think knowing would have stopped him.”
Night suddenly perked up. “Wait, wasn’t Firetail an earth pony?”
Mentally, I whacked the back of my head. I’d taken the explanation so much for granted that I’d forgotten Night didn’t know. “He was a Shadow Walker. They sacrifice part of themselves to wield powerful magic, regardless of species, race, or natural ability.”
“In Ostfriesen, they are known as Warlocks,” Star said.
“Or Soul Strippers or Hornless Hexers,” Merri added.
With a sigh, Star raised her eyebrow. “Could you be serious for a second?”
“I am! Those names are what they are for a reason!”
Night shrunk down. “Why? Why would anypony ever do that?”
“Because for some people, power is the only thing that matters.” I hated to say it, but there was no way around it. Night stared at his hooves.
Star cleared her throat. “Anyway, these connections, dangerous as they were, would theoretically allow him to transfer his mind—an act that could shatter it in several ways.”
Even having already seen what Bellerophon had to do to save Night—or perhaps, having been exacerbated by that, I shuddered. “Seems like hardly an obstacle when he was insane from the start.”
With a solemn nod, Star continued. “Quite likely. In fact, I am convinced that Bellerophon’s transfer to the bracer was his prototype for this task. As for Firetail, like the brute he was, he only used the channel to throw around his weight. Once Broken Tooth was wounded, it became clear just who was the real master of that tactic.”
I arched an eyebrow. “But not master enough to win against you, Merri and Bellerophon, right?”
Merri coughed and looked away.
Star let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Were that so, we would not have struggled so much. We were on the defensive the entire time, weathering the storm. What happened to Broken Tooth, he did to himself. I cannot say for certain, but while Old Ed hit a vital spot, the wound was not so deep as to be inevitably fatal. Had he been able to seek help, it is possible he would have survived. But, by then, he had already turned his allies against him. Even if he had not, I somehow do not think he would have accepted aid from the ponies he so hated. Instead, he seemed to draw from his life force, much like Firetail, converting all of it into magic. I very much believe that when he said he was going to take us all with him, he fully intended to destroy everypony and everything in that room.”
I paled. The thought had never crossed my mind that I could have been closer than inches from death, but there it was.
With a loud clomp, Night was on his hooves, though the way he was shaking, it might not have been for long. “I... I need to step outside… s-sorry.”
Night made for the door, pushing his way out before anyone could answer. I glanced at Merri and Star, who both nodded before I took off after him.
It didn’t take long to find him. After a couple turns, the corridor opened up onto a balcony that had likely seen happier days. Granted, with how ominous the cavern looked, even when we weren’t skulking through, hiding from patrols, I wasn’t entirely sure what said days were like.
Night was curled up in the corner, sobbing to himself. Even as I approached, he didn’t so much as move. I settled down beside him, slipping a wing over his back.
“I’m sorry.”
“Y-you’re sorry?” He let out a bit of a pained laugh. He took a few moments to push himself up onto his haunches. “This... this is all my fault. If I hadn't been so reckless, so stupid, a lot of ponies wouldn’t be... wouldn’t be d-dead.”
I knew of that pain too well, how hard it was to push past the guilt. All I could really do was offer the same consolation that had been spoken to me. “That’s not your fault. This was going to end in violence, one way or another. I just hope that bringing Bellerophon saved more lives than were lost.”
Night didn’t respond. He was lost. I could almost see him reading his thoughts as they lingered in the air in front of him, invisible to all onlookers.
I stretched my wing a little further, that I might pull him close. “Night? Night, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath, alright?”
After taking my advice several times, he finally looked at me. “I came so close to losing it all, Dusky. I didn’t even know what it would be like, to just... t-to let go, to lose myself, and then... then when everything was over, he was standing there, in Firetail, and... th-that could have been me.”
I leaned in, nuzzling into his mane. “But it’s not. It’s over now.”
“Y-yeah. Yeah.” Night slumped against me. “I... I wanted this. I thought, this would make me worthwhile, make me a better pony. Part of me believed it... p-part of me believed maybe... maybe I should just let Bellerophon take control.”
“That’s not true.” I hugged him a little tighter before pulling back to look him in the eye. “That's your old self-doubt talking. When it starts saying that, just remember that you're Night Light, and there's no one else I would rather you be than yourself.”
He leaned against me again, this time in more of a hug. “Y-you’re amazing, you know that? You always know just what to say to make me feel better.”
“I’m glad.”
“Dusky? Will you... I mean, do you think you and I could…” Night squirmed a little.
I pressed into his forelock. “Do I think we could what?”
“T-train.” He blushed deeply, almost looking like he was surprised at what he’d said. “Train together. Y-you know. You and me. Together, um, sparring. If... if I really want to be prepared, that is. I, we... we should probably... um... train together?”
I was rather certain he’d wanted to ask something else. Knowing him, I had an inkling of what it might be, but with things as they were, we’d be better off if I let it lie for now. Instead, I simply nuzzled him again. “Mmm. I’m no trainer like your sister. I don’t know how well I could teach you, but it might not be a bad idea.”
“R-really? Then... we should do it?”
“I don't see why not.” I pulled back so he could see me grin. “I don’t usually have a sparring partner, it could be good for both of us.”
The following days in Olymponis Castle were a bit strange. We were treated with the utmost respect, yet, everyone was too busy to do more than bring us food and make a hasty inquiry about our well being before scurrying off. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised, given that they were trying to undo Broken Tooth’s and Firetail’s hubris in a huge city with a labour force that had recently been crippled by conflict.
Amethyst Vein, Bellerophon and Old Ed were basically impossible to get ahold of, so our plans remained rather mercurial. It was almost certain that we’d have to return to Ostfriesen so that Star could give her testimony of the events that transpired here. Of course, Olymponis would need to send their own envoy—perhaps even Bellerophon himself—to corroborate the story. With the Badlands as dangerous as they were, going together only made sense.
However, Star, Merri and Night were still in no condition for such a journey, so we had some time for things to settle down. While I took every opportunity to visit with them, a good chat couldn’t substitute for real bed rest. As such, I often found myself restless. I felt rather uncomfortable sitting idly by while everyone was working so hard, so I pitched in here and there, though taking care not to over-exhaust myself before our journey. This raised a few eyebrows at first, but in the end, I think the Olymponians were only too happy to have another set of hooves.
When at last I was able to get a moment with Bellerophon, he told us not to wait up, as they needed to get the basics stabilized before they could afford to send an envoy and party so far out from the city—something that could easily take twice or thrice as long as our recovery time.
On the way back to Ostfriesen, I felt a little more relaxed. That wasn’t to say that I wasn’t vigilant, but that my newfound familiarity allowed me to be vigilant in more efficient ways. Knowing the terrain was always an advantage, but never was it more pronounced than in the Badlands. No constantly wondering what was hiding just over that ridge when there was a sheer drop behind it. No need to keep searching for new cover from the sky.
Not rushing headlong into some ancient ruins to fight an insane dragon may have also had something to do with it.
Fort Mareginot hadn’t changed one bit. As massive and destructive as our clash had been, no one knew what had gone down. It was a little disconcerting to think, had Broken Tooth destroyed us all, no one would have—or perhaps, could have—cared. I had to stop for a moment, to consider just how often this kind of thing also happened in Equestria. In the end, I think I had a bit more respect for Canterlot’s stained-glass windows.
While we still needed to move at a brisk pace, our return to the inner roads of Ostfriesen came with a great deal of relief. Without the previous urgency hanging over us, I still had more than a few moments to truly take in the scenery.
One thing that struck me as a little odd after seeing it a few times is that the wilderness seemed to form orderly bands of vegetation. Of course, back in the day, when it was a war of cultivating nature against nature, such things didn’t seem quite as illogical. I had to smirk a little, though, picturing an army of rugged wild crabgrass standing firm against the gritty, marauding dust storms of the Badlands. Still, to have this be noticeable after so many years, it was clear that people were maintaining it—one of those things where necessity became tradition, I suppose.
The end result was a very lush, almost garden-like appearance to a wide variety of wild plants. It was sort of like a giant park, with the barest hint of a desire to be unleashed. The more I saw, the more I realized that my initial assessment of Ostfriesen as a countrywide campground was more apt than I’d thought.
I’d almost forgotten just how easy the border highway was to traverse—then I actually did, once we turned onto the castle’s branch. While the previous road was well maintained, this one was even better. The change was gradual at first, but after about a mile, the road became practically as smooth as silk. I almost wanted to break out into a gallop just to take advantage of it. There was little doubt that it took dozens of earth ponies from the neighbouring towns to keep something so perfect. In fact, at a distance, I’d almost have wondered how the Path of Dragons, with its six-foot-high walls could avoid flooding. As it turned out, the road itself was raised, with what could only be an intricate gutter system on either side.
Nearer to Oasis, which is to say, a good couple miles out, the earth became flagstone. The path was cut between two tall hills, which were nearly twice as tall as the initial dirt walls. This gave us plenty of shade, but blocked our view of the city. I swear the latter had to have been done on purpose, as when we rounded the bend, I got my first good—and absolutely picturesque—view of the city.
Flowing fields of lush grass flanked the road for the remaining mile or so, which then linked up with a drawbridge. On the other side of the moat, smooth stone walls of a heavenly white towered over the landscape. My initial guess had been right and each of the dots I’d once seen, were full-length, ten-foot banners, very carefully hung over the sides of the walls. The base was a deep green, perhaps even more appealing than the colour of the grass, with a sandy mound overtop. From that mound sprouted the trunk of a palm tree, though its fronds had been replaced by a series of bright green leaves that formed the infinity symbol.
It was a little overbearing, such that I had to smirk, perhaps even giggle. But the message was clear and serious: eternal prosperity. And just when I thought they couldn’t be any more forward.
The towers of the gate were as smooth and white as the walls, topped by golden domes that demanded as much attention as the banners. Behind those, the spires of the city rose above the walls, appearing as larger, more intricate versions of the guard towers. It reminded me of Canterlot, which really shouldn’t have been a surprise, given our peoples’ common ancestry.
I turned to grin at Star and Merri. “Fancy. You sure you’re gonna be able to get used to Equestria again after this?”
Merri waved a hoof. “Oh, sure, the place and everypony inside looks nice, but I don’t need any of that. The party goes where I go~.”
Raising an eyebrow, Star stared at Merri for a few moments.
“Uh, Sis’?” Merri tilted her head, though her expression didn’t break. “Lighten up?”
Star stuck out her tongue and it was our turn to stare as she said, “Just try not to seduce too many stallions on the way in. One riot per week is enough.”
With that, she started toward the gate.
“U-um?” Night glanced between Merri and I.
There was no holding it in: I broke out into laughter. “Guess I don’t need to ask how it feels to be home.”
Merri’s smile was more warm than amused. “Guess not~.”
As we crossed the bridge, the two guards at its head gave us a onceover. If not for the different house colours and slightly more liberal armour polish, these guys could easily have been part of Firetail’s band. I felt myself reflexively tense, but quickly suppressed the urge. After a moment, they waved us through without a word. Seemed even in Ostfriesen proper and without offering the pretense of apprenticeship, we were alike enough to remain inconspicuous.
We were barely out the gate, when the colour and noise hit us full on. The wide streets were bustling with a mix of knights—each of which seemed to be wearing a unique tabard—and fancily dressed citizens, many of whose gaudiness outdid even the most decked out of knights. Intermingled amongst the people were bright signs, calling attention to some attraction or other, as well as flag versions of the Ostfriesen banners.
I looked at Merri. “Let me guess, this isn’t a festival. It’s always like this.”
She wrapped a hoof around my withers. “Now you’re getting it~!”
“This way to the castle.” Star pointed further down the main road before continuing, her pace a little faster than before. I couldn’t blame her for being nervous. They would eventually have to identify themselves and the reception might not be so friendly.Night wasn’t doing too well, either, though he seemed more overwhelmed than anything. It only made sense—when Canterlot had already thrown him for a loop, and this was Canterlot, but more boisterous. I wished I had had time to take him somewhere a little more intermediate, but I supposed this was the least of all the problems we’d had in the last month.
“You okay, Night?” I asked. ‘We need to get going.”
His head snapped to me and he shook himself off, offering a smile. “Y-yeah. This place is just a bit much.”
I nodded. “Sorry. Once Star and Merri get their part settled, we can find somewhere a bit quieter.”
We quickly reached what I could only guess were the castle gates. The odd thing was that the castle extended out so close to the outer gate. In fact, the whole thing almost felt like a second city gate, with a conspicuous lack of any singular large structure. That wasn’t to say that there wasn’t a main building, nor that it wasn’t big: the central tower, which we’d seen on the way in, was as large as a small mountain. However, the appearance was much like a sized-up version of the other towers, with a greenhouse at its base. The rest of the space was filled with even more of the large towers. I supposed in the end, it probably amounted to the same thing, but this was definitely not a design I’d seen in Equestria. The closest analogue I could think of was the business area of Manehattan.
“This is the Spire of Strength, the seat of our power,” Star said as we approached the greenhouse. “The area around it is the first of the land cultivated to help us survive. Please be respectful while we are inside.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
Night tensed up, but gave a nod of his own.
“Geez, Sis’, no pressure or anything, right?” Merri’s lips dipped into a frown for just a moment.
“You could stand to show some extra respect, yourself.” Star pushed through the glass door.
“Hey, that was one time and I didn’t even start it!” Merri hurried after her.
Night and I exchanged a smirk before following.
All the greenery along the path to the Spire were in scarce quantities, yet variety by the dozens. They were also organized in a similar fashion to the plants outside the walls, though with the benefit of several plaques. Each bore the name of a plant in addition to what appeared to be a year of adoption. With how quiet it was now, I found it a little hard to imagine just how bustling this place must have been when it was the cornerstone of Ostfriesen’s survival.
A few feet before the Spire's entrance, the vegetation shifted from heritage site to decorative. A grand set of stone steps lead up to the gold-framed door. The frame was engraved, though I didn’t recognize the characters. Perhaps they were some ancient Ostfriesen dialect, or, given the pact with the dragon, draconic. I didn’t have time to ask Star, as the two guards at the door seemed to recognize her.
One was a yellow mare, pale purple braids falling about her neck. Her barding was mostly chain, though accented in key places with plated pieces. The other was a light green, whose full helmet concealed most of her features. Despite the heavy helm, her barding was largely leather, reinforced at the legs by copper.
The two guardsmares exchanged glances before the yellow one stepped forward. “Dame Starshadow. Merriweather. You know you are not supposed to be here.”
Star bowed deeply. “I am aware, Dame Ivolana. Although, I would hope that you know me well enough to understand I would not return unless there was very good reason. I must see the Queen.”
Ivolana hesitated, unable to find her words. I could see it in her eyes: law versus friendship. At last, she spoke, “I knew you as an honourable knight, Starshadow. Very well, we shall listen to why you are here, and determine if it warrants an audience. But... your sister…”
“Is part of the reason why I am here, yes,” Star said. “But not the only reason.”
Ivolana shifted her weight back, as though bracing against Star’s eagerness. “It does not matter. You know that Merriweather was banished. You chose to follow her, but the punishment was not yours.”
At that, Star seemed to compose herself. “We did not return to argue the banishment, only to bear witness to events to the north, and to give our Queen knowledge of what transpired. I may have stepped down from my position, but I am still a knight.”
“As am I. I cannot let her trespass go, Star.” Ivolana’s face contorted. The favour was too great, even if she wanted to give it to them.
“Sis’... it’s okay.” Merri stepped forward and lowered her head, as though ready to submit to shackles. “I came back knowing what might happen. You sort things out with our Queen. I'll wait. I didn't come here to flaunt my punishment.”
I really wanted to say something, to sing Merri’s praises, but the situation was already delicate as it was. For a nobody to speak up so strongly, it would draw suspicion, likely harm her case more than anything.
Ivolana bowed. “Your compliance is duly noted, Merriweather. As is your concern for your sister, Star. I shall personally ensure no harm comes to her until the Queen has heard your story.”
Star sighed, her eyes on Merri before turning to meet Ivolana’s bow. “Thank you, old friend.”
“Hibiscus. Take Merriweather to a guest room. See to it she doesn’t leave. I trust you won’t leave, Merriweather?”
Merri nodded with a rare level of solemnness. “Yeah, I won’t. You’re putting too much on the line for my sake already, Iv—uh, Dame Ivolana.”
Ivolana smiled sadly as Hibiscus led Merri toward a side door—presumably the barracks. “So long as you understand that, I thank you as well.”
“What about us?” I glanced at Star. There was almost no chance of us being allowed into the court, but since the situation practically demanded we not do anything taboo, I didn’t want to just wander around, leaving things to chance.
“Apprentices?” Ivolana asked, her eyes sliding over Night and I.
“Not quite. They are good friends.” Star gave us an apologetic look. “You two will need to wait, I fear. The effort required to have you enter the Spire of Strength with me would be considerable, and your words would have little weight with the Queen. My apologies.”
I shook my head. “I figured as much. Don’t worry about it.”
Only halfway to the door, Merri glanced back at us, half-shouting. “Perfect opportunity if you ask me. This might take some time, so why don’tcha go tour the city, eh? Make a date out of it~.”
Rolling her eyes, Star’s horn lit up, floating her coin purse over to me. “I am absolutely confident you are safe here. There should be enough there for meals and lodging. I cannot be sure how many days this will take for the Queen to verify our story. In the meantime, we may be separated, but if timing does not align for us to meet, I shall ensure that word of our progress is left at this gate.”
I tucked the bag into my satchels, next to my Equestrian coins. “We’ll leave word of the inn once we get settled.”
Night’s ears drooped a little. “Be, um... be safe, okay?”
“We’ll be fine.” Merri snuck one last wink. “Not like we’re fighting off a dragon or anything.”
I cringed a little as Night dashed toward Merri. Though he only gave her a quick hug, making sudden movements here was ill-advised. While we had the benefit of Star having a friend amongst the guards, this was probably pushing our luck. It was unlikely Ivolana would want to be seen showing such favouritism.
Night returned to Star, giving her a hug as well. “We’ll be waiting, then. Good luck.”
Since we were already at it, I hugged them in turn, albeit moving much more slowly and deliberately. “Good luck.”
“You all worry too much. Now go on, have fun~.” Merri grinned before disappearing into the barracks.
“Incorrigible.” Star shook her head, though she made no effort to hide her smile.
While I was still worried about Merri, as well as feeling more than a little homesick, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also a little excited. Here we were in a beautiful foreign capital that pretty much no one else in Equestria had been to, with little more to do than rest and explore. What’s more, Night was here to share it with me—something I’d sorely missed from my days traveling with my parents.
As much as I wanted to run out and roam the streets, we’d just finished a long journey. To not find a place to rest and offload unnecessary gear would have been foolish. With that in mind, we doubled back, in search of the hotel district. While the greenhouse’s status as a tourist attraction ensured that there would be several hotels nearby, they were of the premium, five-star variety. If I tried to check us in there, we’d be broke within a couple nights.
Even though Star said the coins should last us, incomeless funds stretched over an indeterminate resolution time wasn’t exactly conducive to a proper budget. As such, I inquired with the cheaper ones—barring anything that looked like rat hole, of course. I wasn’t sure how much haggling I could get away with at even a decent place in a major city, but I had to try.
They were surprisingly receptive, and after the fourth inn—one Roebuck Tavern—I was starting to feel like I actually had a basic grasp of the Ostfriesens’ economy. Incidentally, this also happened to be the best deal, allowing me to budget out enough for both room and board for two weeks, while also holding back a small slush fund for our return trip. Practically speaking, the latter would only be enough to carry us back to the border so we could try to collect a bounty or two. Ideally, though, if things were stretching on too long, we’d be able to find some safer work within Oasis’s walls.
By the time everything was settled, we were late into the afternoon. There would be little time to find and get into any new daytime activities before the city’s inevitable nightlife started up. As such, I suggested we return to the one attraction we did know about: the greenhouse.
We walked amongst the exhibits again, passing the tower as we moved farther into the heart of the greenhouse. There, almost everything constructed fell away, breaking out into what could be summed up as an extra-sandy beach surrounding a sizable desert lake. Palm trees sprouted here and there, reaching toward the glassy panels above. There was nothing showy or grandiose about it. For something that such a large, elaborate city was named for, it was almost disappointing.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized the irony. Through no small amount of effort, the Ostfriesens had rendered this land humble and ordinary. But, once upon a time, when everything had been the Badlands, this little piece of life stood as the bastion of hope for thousands of refugees. In a way, the oasis was almost like an old knight, keeping the realm safe and steady throughout her lifetime, then stepping back to let her work flourish under the guidance of the next generation. It was at once awe-inspiring and a little sad.
As I turned my new perspective upon each detail, I couldn’t help but smile.
I glanced back at Night, wondering what he thought. Before I could ask, I found that his eyes were not on the oasis, but me. I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
He shook his head, doing little to cover the big, dopey grin he had on his face. “Nothing. Just… I haven’t seen you like this before. It’s good to see.”
“What? Getting excited?” I laughed. “I’m not really that much of a stick in the mud, am I?”
Night shrunk a little as he blushed. “N-no, more than that. It’s the little filly, splashing in the water for the first time. It’s the same way you look at…”
“Hmmm?” I leaned in as I smirked. “At what? You can’t keep leaving me hanging like that.”
“When…” He looked like he was trying to think, but kept talking. “Dusky, when does a dream begin?”
“A dream?” I tilted my head, no longer certain where his train of thought was headed. “What do you mean?”
He swallowed, tensing up a bit. “A dream. I don’t have dreams, at least, none that I can ever remember. I’ve always wondered what it's like.”
I had a suspicion about the kind of analogy he was trying to draw, but couldn’t quite be sure. More probing was necessary. “I don’t really think you ever know you’re in a dream until you wake up.”
“Oh…” he said, scuffing a hoof.
Slipping up to him, I pressed my muzzle against his, pushing his chin up. “Why do you ask? Think you dreamt something?”
His nod was solemn, almost apprehensive. “I don’t know, but it seems like it.”
“It’s okay, Night. I’m here, if you want to talk about it.”
He gave me a sheepish look as he shook his head. “But… it’s you.”
“Me?” I asked, more as an invitation than a real query.
“This. Here. Now. What am I doing here, Dusky? What are you doing here? How could someone like me end up here, now, with someone like you?” His voice held as much adoration as confusion.
I must admit that his openness took me by surprise—I couldn’t help but indulge him. With a giggle, I smirked. “Flatterer.”
“I... I’m serious. It’s surreal." He motioned out to the lake. "We’re standing at the heart of a city that a year ago I’d never even heard of. I’ve faced monsters, foes, possession, even a dragon. It... it’s everything I ever wanted.”
Waiting for him to continue, I watched him carefully, wondering just how much he actually enjoyed. So much of it was so ill-suited to him.
He let out a bit of a sigh. “But it’s not what I want now.”
It was as I’d thought—that moment where I realized what I’d always feared had come to be. He’d made it through, but there was always that risk. I leaned against him again. “Things around me tend to get a bit crazy. I never wanted that to pull anyone else into it. I’m sorry.”
He was ready with a hug. “Dusky. If not for the craziness, I... I don’t know where I’d be. I started taking steps into this world because of you, because I thought I loved you. I kept walking because of me, because it was a path I realized I needed to walk down, for my own sake. Now, I stand here beside you because I don’t just think I love you anymore—I know it.”
The whole speech was coming on a little strong, but at the same time, it was a relief. Even taking bias into account, it was impossible to deny that Night had benefited from certain aspects of these ordeals. As he closed his eyes, I continued to lean up against him.
A few moments later, he spoke again, “I’ve been scared since we left Ponyville, afraid that I’d gotten my friends hurt, terrified of what was happening to me, and what might happen to us here, but I always had someone to look to for strength. If... when things get crazy, I never want you to feel like you’re pulling me along. I want you to know that I'm beside you by choice.”
My first instinct was to wonder why he would willingly stay within range of the danger that surrounded me. The answer, of course, was obvious. I would certainly be a hypocrite if I didn’t say I’d stick with my friends no matter the danger.
Night stepped back, returning me to reality as he fidgeted. “I, uh, sorry. I'm rambling again. Just... I guess all I wanted to say was, thank you.”
Acting quickly to dispel any false impressions, I closed the distance again, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You’re welcome, Night Light. And thank you, as well.”
He blushed, turning his eyes back to the water. “It’s… pretty incredible, isn’t it?”
I followed his gaze, once more admiring Ostfriesen’s humble beginnings. “Yeah, it is.”
“I’m glad that I can see it with you.” Night smiled at me. “Maybe there’s something magical about this oasis after all.”
“Something magical, eh?” Even though the oasis didn’t appear more than ordinary, it had likely seen more than its fair share of earth pony magic. But at the moment, that wasn’t really a detail we needed to think about. “I’m glad you’re here to see this with me too.”
His eyes turned upward, past the glass roof, to the descending sun. “You think… Ostfriesen has some place where we could share a dance?”
“Pffft, what?” Merri’s voice came from behind, and a dozen questions filled my mind at once. “You think Ostfriesens don’t dance? Oh, we dance~.”
As we turned, Night’s cheeks took on a red even deeper than Merri’s coat. “M-Merri?”
“Heya, Night. Hope I’m not interrupting anything~.” She winked, walking with a bit of a bounce in her step. “I don’t want to butt in.”
I tilted my head. “Should you even be here? You didn’t do anything rash, did you?”
“Who, me?” She put on a fake pout. “Nah, I’m a model citizen. They let me out on good behavior~.”
“Really.”
“Yes, really, sheesh. The Queen pardoned me, pretty quickly, too. Sis’ is still in court with her, so I figured I should come down here and pay some respects to the source.”
Night’s face brightened, then gave way to confusion. “Well, that’s good, right? Though, that doesn’t line up, does it? If Star is still giving her testimony, how did the Queen know to let you out already?”
“It’s not been that long,” I added. “I assumed even if everything went well they’d keep watch on you for another day or so.”
Merri shrugged. “What can I say, Queen Papaya knows what’s up. Don’t gotta be an alicorn to be a wise ruler.”
I thought back to how easily we’d infiltrated the ranks of Firetail’s reinforcements. More than likely, the Knights had already had several people in place. It would have been more of a surprise if their Queen wasn’t aware of an usurper skulking around behind her back. “No, I suppose not.”
“Now, I’m gonna be here a bit. Gotta uh, do some personal stuff at the oasis. Ostfriesen tradition and all. Knight stuff, even if I’m not really a knight anymore, you know the drill. You two get a place yet?”
I nodded. “Yeah, just a small one though: the Roebuck Tavern.”
“Hey, that’s fine~.” She smirked. “I’m gonna stay in the barracks, anyway—for as long as Sis’ needs us to stick around, I guess. But I wanted to make sure I knew where to reach you two.”
“Sounds good. We’ve got the room for a couple weeks, so we should be set.” I met her grin. “And congratulations on your pardon.”
“Vindication~.” Merri giggled as she flourished. “Now go on, you two should have some fun. This is just musty old ceremony. Boring.”
Night glanced at me. Merri seemed just a little too pushy, but whatever her reasons, I was certain they must be good. He turned back to her. “Well, we’ll meet up tomorrow, then?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” I waved to Merri as we headed for the exit. “We’ll wait at the inn for you tomorrow, Merri.”
“Perfect! Roebuck Tavern. I’ll be there. Now go on, you two deserve a little fun without me barging in on ya. Go shake your booties~!” Merri demonstrated with perhaps a bit too much vigour. But after a moment she stopped, seriousness passing over her face. “And uh, thanks. Thanks a lot, you two.”
We left the greenhouse, stealing one more glance behind us. It was difficult to tell what Merri was doing, but she seemed so much at ease that we could begin our dance date without concern. Of course, a proper dance date demanded energy.
I turned to Night and smiled. “Let’s go find some food first, alright?”
He wrapped a wing around me. “Wonderful. That sounds wonderful.”
We’d already seen more than a few diners during our hotel hunt. The trick would be figuring out which ones we could afford. With Merri’s good news, I figured we could get away with being a bit more lax. Although, as we passed by a fancy restaurant that almost appeared to be made out of solid gold, and populated by people wearing enough jewelry to make the previous, gaudily dressed knights look like poor peasants, I was quickly reminded of just how key a phrase ‘a bit’ was.
Fortunately, neither of us had such expensive tastes—nor the clothes that would have even let us get in—so we were far from tempted. Instead, I found Night eying up a little cafe across the street.
It was a little, green building, with the standard awning and umbrella-sheltered tables, though, as per usual, more colourful than anything in Equestria. What stood out the most was a sign, depicting the mare in the moon, with ‘Caffe Luna Rosa’ scripted overtop of it. I suddenly knew exactly why it had his attention.
“Luna…?” he asked.
“Probably not named after the Princess. At least, not on purpose,” I said. Now that we were closer, I could see that it was roughly mid-grade, something well within our means. “Seems nice. Want to give it a try?”
“Sure.” He stole one last glance at the sign.
Inside, steel-framed, glass lanterns presided over dividers painted to look like fences. The tables were reminiscent of clay troughs, while the booth benches wouldn’t have been out of place in a Canterlot garden. Adding to presentation was a mixed scent of fresh greens and strong spices, the latter of which reminded me of some of the Saddle Arabian stuff my dad used to get.
Night scrunched his muzzle. I was about to ask him if he wanted to try somewhere else when he relaxed, his eyes wandering over the rest of the interior.
We didn’t have to wait long before our server appeared. She was a unicorn in a long, ribbon-clad frock—proof that even corner cafes here wanted in on the finery. With a bow, she led us to a small table along the window, giving us a nice view of the street.
The etiquette was another thing that could have placed us squarely in Canterlot. Granted, there wasn’t too much to the timing of grabbing drinks while the patrons browse the menus. Speaking of which, though many of the dishes sounded foreign or strange in name, the descriptions had me pegging many of them as ‘like Equestrian dish X, but with more spices.’
After a couple minutes, the server returned with our waters. “What can I get for the two of you?”
I eyed the menu again. I was pretty much willing to try anything, which was a problem all its own. Of course, my go-to solution for that was always to get their best. “Hmm. What's the house special?”
“We’ve a lovely house salad, as well as our chef's speciality, a dumpling pot pie.”
My eyes flitted to the menu’s entry, though I already knew what I’d be getting into: meat. In my experience, meat has always been a bit of a divisive thing. Some develop a taste for it, while others can barely stomach the thought. If I had to pick a side, I’d say I fall more toward the former. One thing for certain is that it’s far from the most efficient food a pony could eat. Then again, neither is a good deal of stuff that comes out of our bakeries. In the end, I imagine that, over time, all Ostfriesens were conditioned to get over it. After all, to a group of starving refugees, malnutrition is better than no nutrition.
That said, I wasn’t starving in the direst sense, and improperly prepared meat is often some of the grossest slop on the market. If this cook was an expert, I’d be a fool to pass it by. “Chef’s speciality? I guess I'll try the pot pie, then.”
I turned to Night, who was a little too engrossed in the atmosphere. Almost absently, he flipped the menu closed and said, “Oh, um, make it two.”
“Uh, Night, are you sure?”
Confusion washed over his face. “U-um, yes? No? Maybe?”
It was as I suspected. “That particular dish contains meat.”
Night flinched a little. “Err, meat?”
The server looked between the two of us. “I assure you that our meat is of the highest quality and prepared with the utmost care. But if you wish, I can give you a few more minutes.”
“Maybe that would be for the best,” I said.
“W-wait. No, I’ll have it.” Night looked up with a bit of a smile.
“Two pot pies, then. I shall return with your orders.” The server bowed again.
I tilted my head at Night, which he picked up on pretty quickly, asking, “What?”
“You sure you’re okay with this? I know meat isn’t to everyone’s taste.”
“W-well, you’re having it, right? It can’t be that bad.”
I smirked a little as I shook my head. “My palette has had a bit of time to adapt. It comes from years of trying local cuisines. And, yes, while I did have to start somewhere, I don’t want you to feel obligated because of me.”
“No, not obligated.” Night scuffed his hoof before giving me a smile of his own. “I want to. I’d have already missed so many things if I hadn’t stepped outside my comfort zone. Besides, after fighting a dragon, how hard can this be?”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “If you say so.”
“I do.” Night blushed a little as he looked at me. “Though, I’m already a bit spoiled. I’ve already seen the most beautiful thing I could imagine.”
“Was the oasis that impressive to you?” I asked.
“I... I was more referring to you. Going to be hard to find anything in the world that rivals your eyes, or your smile.”
Even with notice, it was difficult to hide my amusement. “Okay, this time you’re definitely just being a flatterer.”
Colour filled his face. “Maybe a little.”
The server returned before long, bearing two delicious-looking pies. As I dug in, I found the meat as savoury as she had claimed. I’m no connoisseur, but the way the sauce and spices came together with the tenderness of the meat just made it more than I could have hoped for.
Of course, question was: would Night feel the same?
I kept an eye on Night as I continued to nibble, hoping for the best. He took a cautious bite, at first chewing as though the meal might have contained nails. With each second, he chewed a little more rapidly, though that petered out before reaching any excessive level of gusto.
“Well?” I asked.
He swallowed thoughtfully, then smiled. “It’s good. I don’t know how often I’d want to have it, but… I’m glad I ordered it tonight.”
I giggled. “Glad to hear.”
---
After supper, we set out in search of a place to dance. Like with Canterlot, the difficulty was less about finding one and more about the length of their waiting lists. When we finally did find one without an hours-long wait, the building was a little old and beaten—not that we or the other patrons seemed to mind. And the earth pony band most certainly didn’t let that deter them.
The first song was very rhythmic, but at the same time, nothing like that found in the latest Canterlot clubs. Instead of trying to trick us by suddenly stopping or shifting the beat, it almost became increasingly ferocious, in a vaguely primal sort of way. As such, I opted to sit out the first song and observe the Ostfriesens. Stealing a glance at Night, I could see he was also anxious to get out there, but unsure where to begin.
The Ostfriesens’ movements were energetic, though somewhat jerky. Many of the flourishes seemed borderline martial, perfectly matching the primalness of the song. It was then that it hit me: these were the remnants of a war dance, modernized to be something a bit less violent.
As the second song began, I stepped out onto the floor and Night quickly followed. I could mimic some of the basic movements, but for the most part, the majority of the fancier stuff were techniques I was seeing for the first time. Rather than step back again, I started substituting things my mother had taught me. If Night hadn’t picked up on things before, he definitely was now, working a few Guard moves in here and there. This drew a few stares, with the dancers likely wondering who those weirdos making those weirdo motions were, but their curiosity didn’t last for long.
“Let’s slow things down a little!” the band’s lead called out as they closed out the third of what I’d come to call ‘neo-war dance’. “Now that you’re nice and warm, why don’t you settle in close for a round of Frondly Waltz?”
This was a little more familiar to us, though the pace was a couple touches faster than any Equestrian waltz. After a bit of fumbling, we found it fairly easy to keep up.
“How’re you holding up?” I asked.
Night grinned wide. “Fine. Just fine.”
“That’s good.” I met his smile. “Wasn’t sure what you’d think of those first few.”
“It… it wasn’t my favourite.” His mouth dipped for but a moment. “But it was still fun.”
“Yeah, it was a little weird. Good thing that’s the norm on the dance floor.”
---
The band kept up a surprisingly strong variety. Most DJs in Canterlot would stick to a couple genres, but I suppose that’s one of the advantages of having a live band. After a few too many high-energy songs, Night and I decided to call it quits, heading back to our humble hotel for a well-deserved snooze.
We were a bit late to rise, though we still got to the tavern before Merri. Since we had a date to keep, we decided to try lunch with them. The menu was, strangely, pretty close to what the Seapony offered—in a way that was even closer than when I was making comparisons to the Rosa Luna’s. I suppose recipes for good hay fries and eggplant burgers simply transcend time and space.
Merri arrived just as we were finishing, though I almost didn’t recognize her. She wore a flowing, soft magenta dress, accented by a series of pale purple ribbons. The skirt was semi-transparent, though not quite enough to show off her cutie mark.
“Hey, you two.” She grinned. “Didja get a chance to shake your booties~?”
Night blushed a little. “Y-yeah, we found a place.”
“Good~. Good~.”
I smirked. “You’re looking uncharacteristically formal today.”
“Bah.” Merri waved a hoof. “You should have seen me before. I always got into this kinda stuff. The only reason I didn’t wear any around Ponyville is Sis’ insisted we didn’t have room to bring any of the good stuff. But now that we’re back here, I had a chance to raid the old wardrobe~. Feeling pretty good, if I do say so myself~.”
“Well, I’m happy you’re happy.” I giggled. “If we have time, maybe you’ll have to show it off to me.”
Merri wrapped a hoof around my withers. “Pshaw, show nothing. If you see anything you like, let me know and you can have it~. Better than having it all sit around collecting dust, anyway~.”
Then she added, in a very not-whisper, “There’s at least a couple I could get you in that would get Night there as red as a beet~.”
Night was already colouring enough that the dresses seemed entirely unnecessary.
“Merri.” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oops, didn’t mean to get carried away~!” She grinned and gave Night a sideways glance. “Cover your ears. We’re doing girl talk here~.”
I sighed, but couldn’t help but smile. “How much time do we have now, anyway?”
“Well, things are wrapping up, but Sis’ still has to work through a bit of paperwork, so probably about three days, give or take.”
I felt torn. Three days in a completely foreign country seemed far too little, yet it was also far too long before I could return to Ponyville. “Guess we can still see a few more things if we plan accordingly. Anything you’d recommend?”
Merri grinned. “Oh, yes, plenty. But why tell you when I could show you~?”
“Don’t you have things to do at the castle?” I tilted my head.
“Some. Sis’ is the important one, though, so I can be in and out a bit. So, what do you say? Would you like me to show you around~?”
“Would I?” I had to smirk—it’s not like she didn’t already know the answer.
“You two are gonna love this place, I promise. The view is spectacular.” Merri grinned, perhaps a little too widely, as she led us up a long flagstone street. The incline was notable and I wondered just what we’d need such elevation for. Perhaps it was a monument set upon a hill. Or, the easy answer would be an overlook of the lake.
However, the road leveled off sooner than expected.
“Ta-daa~!” Merri called, waving us toward the edge of a solid stone balcony. It gave us a good view of what appeared to be a courtyard, though there were no structures—never mind any that could catch my eye. Instead, several groups of people were gathered near the back wall. Some were in formation, practicing some kind of drills, while others sparred in pairs.
Admittedly, I had some interest in Ostfriesen combat techniques, for I could surely learn something from a people who could make a huge show of things, yet still demonstrate deadly prowess. However, as I continued to watch, I had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t what we were here for.
I raised an eyebrow, certain that if I asked, Merri would volunteer an explanation. “It’s a training field?”
“Not just any training field! The raised platform makes it the one with the best view~.” Merri pointed to a group whose stretching was putting their flanks particularly high in the air. “You gotta appreciate that level of fitness~.”
“Y-you just come out here to look at... um…” Night’s gaze turned to the balcony floor.
Merri leaned forward, grinning the whole time. “At what, Night?”
I sighed. The whole conversation pretty much ruined any chance of legitimate study. “This isn’t quite what I was hoping for when I said I wanted to see ‘the sights’.”
“You want something a little more natural, eh? Little more like home? Okay, okay. I can do that.” Merri got in one more good eyeful before leading us away. The path wound around the courtyard, until we were following the outer wall.
Sentries paced above, casting flickering shadows over the side of the ramparts. Night seemed to be paying particular attention to them, and, after a moment, turned to Merri. “Does the city come under attack often? I mean, what with the wall, and the guards, and the training grounds?”
“Nah, not really. Or, not often at least. About as often as Ponyville does.” Merri smirked as she winked. “But instead of having some local celebrities wielding ancient magical artifacts, we have a group of well-trained knights that know how to take on just about anything the Badlands can throw at us. And that doesn’t even count the locals who go out and bag a few bounties on their own.”
My eyes followed the wall, trying to imagine us building something like this to hold back the Everfree. I just couldn’t see it. Off the top of my head, it definitely wouldn’t have stopped the Ursa. From what I recall, there’s also a dragon living there who would most certainly laugh at such a thing. All in all, the walls would probably do little more than provide a means to spot approaching problems from a distance. No, Ostfriesen’s walls worked because they had dozens of deadly warriors to staff them. In Ponyville, it would likely trap us in as often as it would keep stuff out.
As my distraction grew, I felt my eyes drift over to something else: a gate that was positioned more than a few feet too far from the wall. That is, the whole thing stood on its own and protected nothing. There was something on top, perhaps a set of statues. At this distance, it was bit hard to tell.
“Hey, Merri,” I said. “What’s that?”
“Hmm?” Merri stopped and followed my gaze. “Oh that? Just the Brushingboot Gate. Why? Wanna take a closer look?”
Seemed what I’d hoped for was up here after all—I just had to look a little further. I grinned. “Absolutely!”
Though the walk was only a few dozen yards, I couldn’t help but feel it took forever. Once we were closer, it was plain to see that this gate was made of an older, rougher material. This wasn’t to say that it was falling apart, but that this was a stark contrast of centuries worth of masonry advancement. Speaking of masonry, the road was too wide, leaving little doubt that this gate was a monument.
The objects on top were indeed statues, four of which were joined to a fifth via harness. The centerpiece of the whole thing was an ornate chariot, upon which stood a majestic monarch. She was a mare of great stature, wrapped in a fine, flowing cloak and topped by a crown as intricate as the chariot, with a trident in her left hoof. Her escorts wore barding that was just a touch less fancy. Curiously, while I could pick out all of the monarch’s features, the barding obscured the features of the others.
“That’s the fourth Queen of Ostfriesen, Queen Lychee.” Merri’s voice grew solemn. “This gate was built to memorialize the battle of Silverglade.”
I glanced at Merri, though I found my eyes drifting back to those pulling the chariot. “And the other four?”
With a grin, she leaned in close. “No one knows.”
“No one?” I raised an eyebrow. “If there’s a monument, surely someone must have made a record.”
Merri shrugged. “Yeah. I guess some of the details must’ve been lost or fuzzy or something. Silverglade was supposedly a little outpost built along this road, far out from the main city, one of the first farm villages, but that winter, some big grimdrakes came down out of the mountains looking to hunt. Silverglade fell—no one left save for the runner who arrived in Oasis to warn the Queen.”
“A whole town, just… gone?” Night paled.
With a nod, Merri continued, “Grimdrakes are bad news.They’re worse in a hunting party, and they’re the worst when they’ve got a matriarch with them, as Silverglade found out. And Oasis was next. Ostfriesen was still growing, and wasn’t prepared for that kind of threat, but Queen Lychee resolved to defeat the beasts. She ordered the civilians to flee, and the knights to harry the beasts, driving them forward, until they reached this gate. Here, the Queen said, she would make her stand, and none would pass so long as she still drew breath. The Knights harassed the beasts as they came, killing many of the drakes, but suffering terrible losses in turn. When they reached the gate, Queen Lychee killed several herself, and none passed through the gate. But she was badly wounded, and when the last of the drakes came, the matriarch came with them, enraged at the deaths of her children. Against her, the Queen could make no defense.”
She looked dramatically between Night and I. “That’s when the four arrived. They weren’t knights, and no record could prove that they lived within Oasis. They were well armed, and well trained, and as the Queen stood her ground, they attacked and slew the matriarch. No small feat, that. After that, they just… disappeared. Some say they had fatal wounds from the battle, others say they were sacred guardians sent by the dragons, or even the Dragon itself, taking the form of four spirits. Lychee survived, and ordered the gate be adorned with the images of the four holy protectors. I guess she put herself in as well, 'cause why not?”
“That’s… wow, Merri. Intense.” Night stared up at the monument again.
“Ha. Right? And Sis’ says I didn’t pay attention to history.”
I had to wonder. Certainly, magic could likely do what the legends claimed, but that seemed like a little too much work, too convoluted, when the dragons would have been, well, dragons. The geography did line up for a more mundane theory, though. “They could have been part of the rebels in the north, those who followed Bellerophon. It’s hard to believe they were just in the right place at the right time.”
“Maybe.” Merri winked. “But why spoil a good mystery, eh~?”
Night held a hoof to his mouth, but it did little to stop the laughter from escaping. When I raised an eyebrow, he said, “S-sorry, it’s almost too much.”
“What is?” I couldn’t help but smile. The tale didn’t seem much weirder than any other legend, but I supposed they all had their quirks.
Little chuckles interrupted Night as he tried to elaborate. “Just… what if that’s us? In another thousand years, will some gate forgotten in the middle of Olymponis have a statue to ‘Regis Amethyst’, with the four unknown foreigners who fought to free them? It’s… it’s so ridiculous.”
With a snort, Merri turned a mischievous eye on Night. “Probably already commissioned, Night. The mysterious stranger with the wild mane. They’ll write romance novels about you, the herald of Bellerophon and your love triangle with the grey stranger, a scarved mare of mystery with a sexy butt~.”
“I w-wasn’t thinking about Dusky’s butt!”
“But you are now~.”
He stole a glance my way as he turned beet red.
“I prefer the factual Night Light to any work of fiction.” I planted a quick peck on Night’s muzzle before turning back to Merri. “Now c’mon, there’s still more of the city to see.”
Merri’s giggling continued as she doubled back. “Right, daylight’s burning you two, still so much to see. Next stop, Trotgart Square. I tell you, there’s plenty of good sights there. I promise, the view is spectacular.”
I let out a sigh. “You said that about the training grounds and just wanted to look at butts. Got any more Brushingboots around here?”
“You want more history stuff? Sure, I guess I can find a few more spots along the way.” She glanced back at Night to give him a not-secret wink. “Though, just so long as we keep this pace, I’m sure Night can enjoy the view all day.”
At this point, I was about to call Merri out on overdoing it, but the thought occurred to me that Night seemed to be embarrassed by physical attraction. While I didn’t agree with Merri’s methods, getting into an argument over it would only serve to embarrass him further. I decided it would be better to let him know I’m okay with that. So, I glanced back—and gave him a wink of my own.
---
As we began the return journey proper, something felt different. The Badlands themselves didn’t look any different—every inch of it bore that same dusty roughness that looked like it could chafe my coat right off my back. However, I felt calmer, almost safer. At first, I worried that it might be complacency, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d already caught a hint of it before. Our trek back from Olymponis had had some element of the same, though it was muddied a bit by the lingering tension of our previous battle, as well as the fact that the road was still clear from Firetail’s supposed hunt.
With awareness, the source became obvious: Star and Merri. I suppose I shouldn’t have been too surprised, given that this had practically been their back yard, but they carried themselves with a supreme air of confidence. Together, at one-hundred percent, they almost seemed to exude an aura of power. As we proceeded, the wildlife seemed to actively retreat, with only a few predators warily observing dozens of feet away. I had a sneaking suspicion that anything that could hunt us would consider us too meagre to be worth the effort.
I now had little wonder about their initial journey to Equestria.
Of course, we weren’t about to get off scot-free. The land was still as rough and unforgiving as the first time through. Even without the looming shadow of predators, the sun put a hard cap on how quickly we could move, frequently forcing us to shelter. In the end, it mattered little. Without the urgency of chasing Merri, we were free to take extra care to ensure we’d come home alive.
The next couple days heralded the return of the sandstorms or rather—dust storms. None of them were anywhere close to the intensity of our very first, but I wouldn’t even need to be a weather pegasus to know that could change in an instant. Only fools would push their luck out there. As such, we found ourselves stuck more often than we’d like. At the same time, the storms never lasted more than an hour or two.
The first time we had to stop, we took the opportunity to refine our plans. The second, I found myself staring out into the storm. We’d found a series of outcroppings that didn’t quite block everything, but formed enough of a shell that it was as good as any cave. The inconsistencies in our pseudo-roof provided at least one thing interesting: a better view of the sky.
After a few moments, Night settled in beside me, following my gaze.
Stealing a glance at him, I smiled. “It’s mesmerizing. When it’s calmer like this, it’s kinda beautiful in its own right. Reminds me a bit of the little flurries we put together in Ponyville.”
Night continued to watch the storm, an almost critical look in his eye.
“I don’t think it’s as beautiful as snow. It’s too heavy and gritty, even if the wind patterns are similar.” His expression eased into a faint grin. “But I see what you mean.”
With a giggle, I turned my attention back to him. “I like how you get about weather.”
He blinked. “How I get?”
I nodded. “You’re confident, certain about it. You’re usually so uncertain—not that there’s anything wrong with uncertainty, as that’s just part of being alive, but sometimes… I just worry. When I see this, though, I guess it’s how I know you’re doing just fine.”
“W-well…” Night grinned wide, a bit of colour finding its way into his cheeks. “I’m always fine when I’m with you.”
“Always charming, too.” I smirked, though that smirk quickly turned to laughter.
He met my smile. “I try.”
The next time I found myself keeping watch with Merri. This time we’d found something of a real cave, though that also gave us less options for escape from opportunists. As such, I got to sit near the mouth and watch the sand drift by again. Everyone else was supposed to be resting, but I figured Merri must have decided she wanted to keep me company. That is, until she opened her mouth.
“Sooooo, when are you two gonna get hitched~?”
I sighed. “You’re starting to sound like Terra.”
That was when the homesickness really hit. I hoped Terra and Mahogany were doing okay. I hoped they weren’t too worried. It was a growing, creeping feeling. The more I thought about it, the more antsy I got. I started shifting hoof to hoof.
I fought it off in the usual way, though convincing myself also took more effort than usual. As much as I wished I could see across time and space, to know for certain, I had to trust that everything would be fine. My friends were perfectly capable of handling themselves.
“Hey, I’m just kidding. I know you two are moving at your own pace.” She smirked. “Buuut, it is plain to see that you two are closer than ever~.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Yep!” Merri waved a hoof. “But enough of that. Let’s talk about something you want to.”
As the sandstorm caught my eye again, I knew exactly what I wanted to ask. “Actually, I was wondering: how did you get through all this so fast?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. How did you keep up?”
“We, uh, didn’t really. We got stuck behind one of these for the better part of a day, then you were constantly several days ahead of us.”
“Oh.” Merri pondered a second. “But I didn’t really do anything special. Just traveled like Sis’ and I used to, then asked around. So, I guess you could say it was all luck and charms~.”
“You’re really saying it was that simple? We were only able to catch up as quickly as we did because Bellerophon had insider knowledge. And we were still days behind you.”
“Well, maaaaaybe I was able throw my name around. Firetail’s clan has never been difficult to find, and once they knew who I was, they were almost eager to point me in the right direction. Some of them even tried to ‘escort’ me, but I didn’t let them. A mare can’t let just anyone get too frisky, y’know?”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “That sounds weird coming from you, but sure. So, is that how you lost your crossbow?”
“What?” Merri furrowed her brow.
“We found one of your crossbows in the middle of the Badlands.”
“Oh, that!” Merri waved her hoof again. “That was just a pack of wolves who thought they could sneak up on me. I gave ‘em the what for, of course. Only thing is one of the little buggers chomped down on one of my crossbows and I didn’t have time to go back for a broken weapon.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Just a pack of wolves? You and Star are really something, you know? I’d be afraid of one wolf.”
Merri struck a pose and grinned. “Ostfriesen training’s tough, but nopony’s ever complained about the results~.”
“So it seems. What happened after that?”
“Once I reached the gate, it was pretty smooth sailing again. I guess word had reached Firetail, because they let me in without question.” Merri frowned. “That’s about where my luck ran out. By then, Firetail was so mad with power, nothing could persuade him. Not even my charms~.”
I smirked. “His loss.”
The lush green border of Equestria never looked so sweet. Once it was in sight, we hastened our pace and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sneak a bite from one of the nearby meadows. Now that we were well within the country, we took our time resting, as well as locating a nearby stream. Quite frankly, after a journey like that, I was ninety-nine-percent sure that we smelled like something that came out of a sewer.
Between our eagerness and having actual roads to traverse, we moved like the wind. As Ponyville came into view, my mouth turned up of its own accord. Sunset framed the buildings, giving the town a warm glow, and I briefly entertained the notion that it was smiling back at me.
“We’re home. We’re home!” Night’s own grin surpassed my own.
“And it’s almost dark, too. You know what that means~?” Merri slid between us, resting her a forehoof around each of our withers. “First dozen rounds are on me!”
“Must you always be so excessive? Not that I do not think a celebration is in order.” Star’s face held an odd mix of sternness and mirth.
Merri put a hoof to her chest. “Hey, I’m totally holding back~!”
“Really, now?”
“I just said ‘first dozen’, not ‘two dozen’. That’s a whole dozen of difference~!”
Star just rolled her eyes.
The Seapony’s heavy doors somehow felt lighter. I wasn’t sure if I should chalk it up to my good mood or to our ordeal pushing me further than ever. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Regardless, the bar was just as I remembered it. The scent, the atmosphere, the creaking boards under my hooves—all of it.
Terra and Mahogany sat at the usual table, the accumulations of their unending contest beginning to take over its surface. Terra’s eyes flitted over to me, then back. A moment later, her eyes widened, whiskey spraying all over Mahogany.
“Gah! Terra, what the hell?!” Mahogany ducked for cover, though it was already too late.
“D-Dusky! It’s Dusky!” Terra’s eyes darted over all of us. “And Merri and Night and Star!”
“It is? Grah, why did you have to go blinding me just now?” Mahogany grumbled, grabbing Terra’s mane and using it to wipe his eyes.
Terra didn’t seem to notice, instead fixating on us. “How was your, uh, trip?”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “It went well enough. Let’s get Mahogany cleaned up and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Never had I been so glad to head to the back room.
We were in the back room for the long haul, though I didn’t need to give Terra or Mahogany any warning—they brought an ample supply of drink with them. Whether it was instinctual or they just happened to be feeling extra thirsty, I didn’t know. Asking them would have been fruitless, though, as I’d just get a shrug and a declaration that they’re not drinking any more than usual.
Even though I tried to condense the story, cutting out the goriest details, I was halfway through my second cider by the time I was done. I think by now, Terra had grown particularly accustomed to the these kind of situations. She was mostly silent, giving me a sad, almost resigned, look that occasionally melted into varying levels of horror. Mahogany seemed more fidgety, making it a bit more difficult to pick out when he was extra agitated. However, after Fillydelphia, I imagined it wasn’t too hard for him to extrapolate.
As I concluded our story, Terra shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“Yeah… Sometimes I can’t help but think that of myself.” I smiled sheepishly. It wasn’t like I could deny it. What other kind of person would willingly enter the Badlands, never mind run headlong into all the other stuff?
“No, really,” Mahogany chimed in. “Rebel conspiracies? Diggin’ up lost kingdoms? Fighting evil dragons? Dusky, yer a walking novel!”
“Know what that means?” Merri winked. “You should throw it all together and publish it! Easy money~!”
Star raised an eyebrow. “Because I am sure she is all too eager to romanticize our near-death experiences into an adventure book for a quick bit.”
“Hey, whatever helps her get past it~.” Merri wrapped a hoof around me as she leaned in. “Right?”
“Merri, that is not the point, nor as simple as you make it out to be.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re both right to an extent. I think writing it down would be helpful, but I don’t want to romanticize it. What we saw, it should be told, but without the bad being glossed over. It should be more of a personal account—something that can help bridge the gap between our countries.”
Both Merri and Star nodded simultaneously, only noticing each other about halfway through. Merri giggled and grinned.
“Anyway,” I said, turning back to Terra. “Enough crazy. How have things been with you?”
Terra ran a hoof through her mane. “Well, I might be doing some summer travel after all.”
“Oh? Decided to come along?” I took a sip of cider.
“Oh, um, you’re planning on travelling with Dusky this summer too?” Night asked. I raised an eyebrow, given that this was the first he’d mentioned such a thing.
“Not exactly.” Terra placed a card on the table. Colourful wild flowers bordered bold script that read, Together with their family, Terrabona and Stalwart Stone request your presence at the ceremony and celebration of their marriage. Night’s remark was immediately on the backburner.
I think he even added something else, but I was too preoccupied almost giving Terra a face full of cider. Thankfully, I got my hooves to my mouth just in time and forced the remainder down. “What?!”
“Hah! Toldja!” Mahogany pointed. “Even Dusky thinks you’re bein’ too hasty! I win! S’your round next!”
Terra’s ears drooped.
“It does seem a little sudden. Why don’t you fill me in on the other details?” I looked a little more closely at the invitation. Curiously, there was only a city name, Orlov, given. “Like, when and where in Orlov? Also, isn’t Orlov a bit far away for Stalwart Stone to travel?”
Terra nodded. “I know we haven’t been dating very long, but the more time Stalwart and I spend together, the more we just click.”
“You say that about every couple.” Mahogany gave her as flat a look as his intoxication allowed. When I peered at him, he added, “What? It’s true.”
“I know. But I’m really serious about this. I admire his strength and conviction, even after all that’s happened. We know just what to say to support each other, almost without any other words spoken.” Terra’s face softened. “Plus, he’s a bit of a romantic.”
I couldn’t argue with the criteria. Her certainty in how closely he met them was another matter, though my absence for the last few weeks meant my own judgment would be sorely lacking. For now, I decided to trust her assessment and find out more later. I could always raise any objections in private once I’d had more of a chance to talk to him. “Well, it does sound like you two mesh well. How about the time and place? And his back?”
“We’re still working on that. I sent a telegram to a few places with dates, but they haven’t gotten back to me yet.” Terra tapped her hooves against the edge of the table. “I think his back should be okay. It might be a problem if we had to walk, but Orlov got a train station last year.”
I nodded. “While that’s quite fortunate, you’re aware that trains aren’t necessarily the smoothest ride, especially out to a smaller city, right?”
“Yeah. I know. But it’s Stalwart’s hometown and his parents are there and he showed me pictures. There’s this beautiful beach that would be perfect!” Terra’s eyes flitted to the side. “Plus, I always dreamed of a destination wedding.”
I laughed. “Okay, Terra, you’ve convinced me for now. We’ll have to see what the finer details look like as you work this out.”
“Fine by me.” She smiled, though a tinge of nervousness tugged at the corners of her mouth. “That brings me to my next question. Will you be my Maid of Honour? I know you normally travel around then, but the dates we’re looking at are all pretty early.”
“I’d be honoured,” I said, meeting her smile. “And don’t worry about it. I have quite a bit of leeway to push things back.”
Normally, I’d have been open to a complete reschedule, but I’d promised Ivory I would visit her. Even if the current state of things was pretty quiet, she couldn’t really leave. In fact, given that I was one of a very small number of people she could safely talk to, I felt bad that I didn’t make it out there more often. It was the one big thing I just couldn’t put off.
“Uh, oh. Here comes the boring, girly details.” Mahogany rolled his eyes.
I grinned. “I think Mahogany’s volunteering to be a bridesmaid.”
“Uh, uh. Nope. Not unless Flurry here wants to be one with me,” Mahogany shoved Night out in front of him. “An’ Flurry doesn’t want any of that. Right?”
“Yeah, um…” Night squirmed more than a little. “I don’t really like dresses. Err, wearing them, that is.”
“Aw, but you’d both look so good in pink.” Terra leaned forward, staring at them in a way where I couldn’t quite tell if she was completely joking.
---
Before I could give my full attention to wedding things, there was one other matter I had to deal with. I’d thought about subtly bringing it up at the bar, to see if Mahogany had told Terra yet, but I decided it wouldn’t have really been fair to him. With that in mind, I once more found myself headed for the EPS store just before closing.
After Oasis, there was just something about Ponyville roads that felt a little lonely and the band of hazy, orangey-purple clouds hanging overhead seemed to be there just to drive that point home. Even if the day was clearly winding down, it’s not like there wasn’t a fair amount of traffic. I couldn’t quite put my hoof on it, but guessed that perhaps it was just the comparatively lower level of energy. Regardless, I shook the feeling off. I could think about it later.
As the door bells jingled, Mahogany looked up from the counter, resigned to serving one more obnoxious, last-minute customer until he saw it was me. “Oh, Dusky. Good. The boss was bugging me about sending this one back.”
He trotted off into the back room and returned with a cube wrapped in brown paper. I hoped my dad hadn’t packed anything that needed to be taken out as soon as possible; no matter how good the job, some things just didn’t do well sitting around in a box for weeks. “Sorry. Had I been thinking before I left, I’d have arranged to have Terra get these out of your hair.”
With a wave of his hoof, he slid the package down his wing to the counter. “Nah, s’fine. Not like we ever use all the space back there, anyway.”
“Thanks, Mahogany.” I nodded. “So, how are things with you? You didn’t say much last night.”
“Fine, fine. Just the same old EPS and Seapony stuff, the way I like it.” His face was a stone wall, though his voice faltered ever so slightly.
I looked him straight in the eye. “So, does that mean you got the thing with your dad resolved?”
“It’s a work in progress.” Mahogany stared down at his clipboard.
I raised an eyebrow. “Work in progress? Meaning the Guard is investigating?”
“I decided I don’t need them.” His eyes continued to drift down the page.
“Uh, you’re not gonna do anything drastic, are you?” I suddenly found myself hoping he was just slacking.
“No, no. I’m just gonna let him wear himself out, then he’ll get bored and leave.” Though there was a tinge of uncertainty in his voice, he sounded perfectly convinced.
I sighed, not knowing whether to be more relieved or annoyed. “Until next time he feels like harassing you.”
“Then I can do it again. I’ll be immovable like those… uh, boxer pony guys.” Mahogany took a couple fake shots at the air. “So… yeah! You can just take your package and I’ll be fine.”
Shaking my head, I pushed the parcel aside. “Maybe you know your father better than me, but he strikes me as the kind of guy who will take that as a gesture of invitation and keep hounding you until you give in. Please, Mahogany. Go to the Guard before he does something irreversible to you.”
He slumped. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t? Did he do something to sabotage you?” I tensed a little, hoping, once again, that my imagination was simply running away with me.
Mahogany sighed. “Yes.”
“What?! How?”
“By being my dad.” Mahogany sighed. “I get that he crossed a line, but where would I even begin? ‘Hi, I’d like to report my dad for being a prick?’ They’d laugh me out of there.”
I shook my head. “You’d be surprised how often they have to deal with this kind of thing. I’m sure they’ll understand.“
Mahogany stared up at the ceiling. “You can’t know that. It’s not like you’re one of them.”
“Maybe not.” I pondered a moment. “But I do know several. Blaze may not be full fledged yet, but I’m sure she’d listen. Or if you’re more comfortable with Night, I bet he’d happily arrange a meeting with his father or sister. There are sympathetic ears out there for you.”
He gave me a look of uncertainty and I met his eyes. After a few moments, he slumped. “Okay, okay. You win. I’ll talk to Flurry.”
The sun was just starting to come down, casting its trademark orange-purple hue through Terra’s living room window. Even though I’d been here a few times since Terra had cleaned up, I wasn’t quite used to it. Just the light alone made it seem like an entirely different place, never mind the rearranged boxes—most of them had been shipped out to her store, and the rest were neatly stacked in the corner—or the complete absence of empty whiskey bottles. In their place was a new, albeit healthier, addiction: wedding magazines. The two of us sat on her couch, poring over them.
As I flipped through the last page of my current issue, my eyes drifted to the long stretch of parchment on which I’d been making notes. I eyed the list before me up and down, then double-checked the count. Thirty-six entries. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have expected such a thing from Twilight, but instead, this was a product of Terra, me, four hours and two-dozen bridal magazines. To be frank, I’d been afraid we’d have the opposite problem, with Terra’s fear of extravagance paralysing her and giving us nothing to work with. While this still wasn’t a great situation, it was at least some relief to see that in the battle of Terras, Terra the Romantic was still Queen.
“Terra, the point of this is to narrow things down, not catalog every magazine you own,” I said, smirking.
“I know! I know!” she replied. “It’s just… all these gowns are so good!”
“Okay, well… how about the bridesmaid dresses as a tiebreaker? Surely, some combination of the two will rise above the rest for you. Or maybe even a top ten instead of a top thirty-six?” I held out the list, poking it for emphasis.
“I don’t know…” Terra shook her head. “Those are all so good, too. But it’s better than nothing. Let’s try it.”
We traced our way back through each page reference, meticulously reviewing each picture. Admittedly, I was less help than I could have been, as I probably voted to keep about as many as I said to drop. Though I tend toward, simpler, yet pretty, designs, I must admit that I have a weakness for long sashes and large bows. Something about them trailing out behind me in the wind just feels right. Still, I tried to rein it in a little, in an effort to place Terra’s tastes first.
As we finished this go around, I eyed the modified list. “Well, this eliminates… one… two… three. Leaving us with thirty-three entries.”
Terra let out a half-hyperbolic sigh. “Oh, Dusky, you need to stop looking good in every dress.”
“Hey!” I laughed. “I told you, a lot of those dresses would suit me much worse than the page.”
With a deep frown, Terra stared me down for but a second before she broke out into her own giggle fit. “Yeah, well, you don’t count. You’re always too harsh on yourself and you know it.”
I shook my head. “If you say so. Maybe my tastes are just too simple.”
“Maybe.” Terra faked a frown again. “That just means I’ll need to bring ten times as many magazines when we start planning your wedding.”
“I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself there, Terra.”
“Aaaaaam I?” She leaned forward.
Rolling my eyes, I stuck out my tongue. “Geez, Terra, only you would matchmake while choosing your own wedding dress.”
“Yes, well, I’m very dedicated to my craft.” Her grin just about swallowed her muzzle.
“More like you’re very dedicated to sidetracking us. Now, c’mon, unless you plan to be constantly changing outfits, theatre style, you really have to choose something.”
Before Terra could answer, the creak of Terra’s door opening echoed down the hall, followed by Aster’s voice. “Terra?”
“In the living room!” Terra called back.
As Aster rounded the corner, disappointment washed over her face. “You’re not done?”
“Sorry, Aster.” Terra’s eyes flitted to the window, her smile growing sheepish as she suddenly realized the state of the sun. “There’s way more good choices than we thought.”
“Oh.” Aster fidgeted. The way she eyed the magazines, I’d almost swear she thought they were her rivals.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I said, breaking the silence. “Why don’t you help us pick a dress?”
“But, I don’t know anything about dresses.” Aster shuffled back a little.
“You don’t have to. It’s not like math or science or anything like gardening where a wrong choice will kill a plant,” Terra said, beckoning her over.
“Yeah, it’s all a matter of taste,” I added. “What do you think looks pretty? That’s all that’s important.”
“If you say so.” Aster walked over beside Terra, taking a seat on the opposite side of her. Grabbing one of the topmost magazines, she started absently flipping through the pages.
“Can we really afford all this?” Aster asked, prodding at one of the grander, more floral dresses.
Terra and I exchanged looks before she gave Aster a sad smile. “Oh, Aster, honey. You’re too young to have to ask questions like that. We’ve got more than enough. Besides, you’re talking to the two thriftiest mares around. And if that isn’t enough, Dusky will be with me. She’s the best planner in Ponyville, so you can bet her budget will be airtight.”
I smirked. “Now you’re just overselling me.”
“See? There. Too harsh.” It was Terra’s turn to stick out her tongue.
“Uh… okay.” Aster looked at us both like we were crazy before returning to her half-hearted browsing.
With such clear enthusiasm, I wondered just how well she’d take to whatever dress she ended up wearing. That’s when the idea hit me. “In fact… Hey, Terra. I think I know the problem. There clearly aren’t enough variables in our judging criteria. Can the list survive round three: flower girl dresses?”
Terra laughed. “Of course! How could I forget about that?”
Aster’s eyes slowly, deliberately turned my way, a message written all over them: ‘Really?’
However, that expression was quickly lost as Terra grabbed her and started walking through the first of the magazines. After a couple minutes, Aster seemed to relax.
“Oh, that reminds me of our lilies,” Aster said, this time tracing her hoof over a flowing, pure white dress that caught the light in just the right way to trail a pleasing yellow down its flanks.
Terra smiled. “That’s no coincidence. It’s from Hyacinth Blossom’s main line.”
“Is there more? What about this red one?”
---
The sun was long gone by the time we got Aster back to her cottage. Even under the dim light of the half-moon, I could tell that Aster’s flowers were flourishing. While many were bowed and closed, the natural, graceful curve of their stems made it clear that they were merely hunkering down for the night.
“Hey, Dad, I’m home!” Aster called as she stopped just shy of throwing the door wide open.
Terra and I trotted in behind her. Unlike the yard, the inside of the cottage had hardly changed. In fact, the only thing that stood out was the stallion seated across the table from Stalwart Stone. The newcomer was an earth pony, sporting a white coat with just enough of a grey tinge that it sparkled a little under the candlelight. A thick, chestnut mane tumbled down his head while what appeared to be a blueprint adorned his flank. Between the two stallions was a small mess of papers, with a single magazine flipped halfway open.
“Sorry we’re late.” Terra snuck a quick nuzzle with Stalwart Stone. “We had a lot of decisions to make.”
“I guessed as much. Don’t worry about it,” Stalwart Stone smiled.
“We’re not doing much better, anyway.” The other stallion shrugged. “Give this guy a ten-foot list of building material requirements and he’ll have them all picked out in an hour. Three pictures of tuxedos? Gonna take all night.”
I slipped up beside Terra and smiled. “I’m afraid we’ve got you beat. Six dresses and that’s after three rounds of culling.”
The stallion laughed. “Not like it’s a fair contest. Tuxes are a tad boring compared to all your fancy dresses. Say, don’t think we’ve met. The name’s Tower Tracer. I get to play Best Stallion for this joker here.”
He reached out a hoof, which I met with a firm shake. “Dusky Down. I’m your counterpart on Terra’s side of things.”
“Well, then, looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other while these two lovebirds get their rears in gear.”
I smirked. “Seems so.”
Terra narrowed her eyes in faux indignation. “You make fun of us now, but just you wait. Your weddings will be exactly the same, then it’ll be me and Stalwart poking fun at you.”
“Oh, please.” Tower Tracer waved a hoof. “Everyone knows I’m married to the office. I don’t need a special somepony. Ain’t got the time or energy. Right, Stalwart?”
An amused smile spread across Stalwart Stone’s face. “It’s true. Tower’s the most dedicated worker I’ve met, bar none. His cutie mark should be a clock since he always seems to be pulling extra time out of his flank. Don’t know how he’d get twice as much work done as the rest of us, otherwise. He even found time to help get me up to speed after the incident.”
“Hey, c’mon,” Tower Tracer grinned. “What was a friend to do? Leave you hanging? Besides, you’re a fast learner. I hardly had to do anything.”
Although a slight smile flitted over Terra’s lips, she was still focusing rather intently on Tower Tracer. “That sounds like a challenge. Dusky said she didn’t need anypony either and I got her a stallion. Just you wait, I’ll find you a mare yet.”
“Terra.” I sighed. “You’re oversimplifying again.”
Tower Tracer just laughed. “Be my guest. Bring all the mares in the world and you won’t find one I’ll marry.”
Stalwart Stone placed a hoof on Terra’s. “Miss Down is right, dear. You’re getting carried away.”
“Fine,” Terra grumbled, though her expression softened when she met Stalwart Stone’s eyes.
Tower Tracer nudged me. “Uh, oh, mushiness alert. Might be our cue to get out of here.”
“‘Our’, meaning you me, and Aster?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. At that point, I realized Aster hadn’t said a word the entire time, which, even though she tended to be quieter during these kinds of conversations, was still unusual. She sat on her haunches, staring up at her parents with a look in her eyes that I was used to seeing on a certain mare. Oh, Celestia, it’s contagious, isn’t it?
“Shoot, you’re right.” Tower Tracer stood and trotted over to Aster. “Say, Aster, want to go down to Sugarcube Corner for some ice cream? Give your parents some time to themselves?”
Aster nodded vigorously, though I wasn’t quite sure which question she was more enthused about.
“At this hour?” Terra frowned a little. It was clear she wanted to protest further, but was also keenly aware Tower Tracer was doing them a favour. After exchanging looks with Stalwart, they both nodded.
“Just don’t be more than an hour,” Stalwart Stone said. “You still have school in the morning.”
“Yay!” Aster grinned.
I had to stifle a giggle. “Right. Well, I guess we’d better get out of here, then.”
“Wait, Dusky. Can I have a minute?” Terra asked.
“Uh, sure.”
“C’mon, kiddo.” Tower Tracer patted Aster on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of their hair. You can tell me about your plants while we wait.”
“While you wait?” I raised an eyebrow.
“What, you’re not coming for ice cream?” Tower Tracer asked.
I pondered a second. While I did have errands to run tomorrow, I did have the day off. With a smile and a shrug, I replied, “Sure, why not?”
Once the door had shut behind Tower Tracer and Aster, Terra and Stalwart Stone turned to me.
“I’d been meaning to mention this before, but we weren’t sure how public we wanted to be about this,” Terra said.
“Is it about Aster?” Thinking back to Ivory and the backlash she’d received when her budding powers didn’t work the way anyone expected, I nodded. “It’s always best to err on the side of caution with those kinds of things. Wait, something didn’t happen, did it?”
Stalwart Stone shook his head. “No, no, everything is fine, Miss Down. There were some odd readings, but nothing like what Miss Sparkle told us to watch out for. Right, dear?”
Rubbing the back of her mane a little, Terra’s smile was a little sheepish. “As far as I could tell. I’m not all that good with some of these science-y gizmos.”
“You did just fine, dear.” Stalwart Stone smiled a big, reassuring smile up at her. “Miss Sparkle even said so.”
“Hahaha…” Terra shrunk a little. “Yeah, I guess she did.”
“Well, I’m glad everything’s turned out all right.” I made a mental note to talk to Twilight about getting a copy of Aster’s data. It couldn’t hurt to get a couple second opinions from Ruby and Ivory if I was already going to be out there, anyway.
Stalwart Stone nodded. “Ever since we finished this, it seems like a burden has been lifted from Aster’s shoulders. I am ashamed to say I didn’t realize how heavily her secret had weighed on her. So, on behalf of myself and my daughter, thank you, Miss Down.”
Pulling herself straight again, Terra smiled. “Yeah, thanks, Dusky.”
“Hey, what are friends for? I’m sure Mahogany or Tower Tracer would have done the same.” I grinned. “Anyway, though, I think I should get going. I’ve already cut enough into your hour.”
With a wink, I spun around and strode out the door.
Sugar late at night—the perfect way to not be able to sleep. Knowing this, I took the scenic route after seeing Aster home. This took me through the nicer section of town, which came with the added perks of making me feel less wary about wandering around at night, as well as an opportunity to check the safe house.
I almost tripped over myself when I saw the light was on. My eyes drifted to the corner of the left-side window. There, the shadow of a toy bear stood vigil. I let out of a sigh of relief. Burglars were extremely unlikely, but still worth consideration.
With care disguised as a slow, casual walk, I slipped around back, knocking on the door before unlocking it. As I trotted in, I found my dad at the kitchen table, watching the door. Spread out before him were the kind of invoices and inventory lists I’d known since I was a filly.
“Dad? What’s going on? Are you and Mom okay?” I glanced around, looking for my mom.
“Are we okay?” He gave me a stern look. “Dusky, we’re not the ones who ventured out into the Badlands.”
My ears drooped. “Sorry, Dad. It was for a good reason.”
“Of course. You’re the last person I expect to recklessly bumble out into a place like that.” Dad stood and trotted over. “But, just as you have your reasons, we have our worry. Perhaps you could elaborate?”
I nodded. “It’s a… long story.”
Placing a wing on my withers, he looked me in the eye. “Take as long as you need.”
With a deep breath I began, like with Terra and Mahogany, though my dad pressed me for details more readily than they. Embarrassment built in my chest with each near-death experience described, culminating in the carnage that was the final confrontation. I think there was just a part of me that thought I’d never have to tell my parents about something more traumatizing than being kidnapped by a drug cartel. And yet, here I was.
“I still don’t entirely know what happened.” I sighed. “Just… the room was death. Nothing but death. We barely scraped by on luck and at great cost. I wonder, had I been stronger…”
My dad pulled me close, pressing his chin into my mane. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to one-up your mother.”
I blinked. “Dad?”
He smiled fondly. “You really do take after her. She always wishes she could do more.”
“Mom does? But she’s nearly unstoppable.”
“And that’s not enough.” He shook his head. “Had she the power of the Princesses, it still wouldn’t be enough—not for one person to change everything, anyway. Were that the case, I’m sure the Princesses themselves would have already fixed every problem.”
“I know, Dad. I’m not a filly dreaming of an ideal world anymore, but…” I stared out the window, though the view was little more than the back shed. “Well, I guess I find it hard to imagine Mom not being able to handle anything that could be reasonably expected.”
“Reasonable?” My dad smirked. “So, does that include the dragon? Or the civil war?”
My mind stopped short, Terra’s voice echoing through it. Even the idea of fighting somepony to the death terrifies me. The way I see it, this is all complete madness.
After a moment, I shook my head, halfway meeting my dad’s smile. “Point taken.”
“I must apologize,” he said. “You appear to have inherited our weirdness magnetism.”
“Guess so. Fortunately, I have two great parents who prepared me for it.”
He placed a wing on my withers again. “Haha, glad you think so.”
“You certainly go above and beyond other parents, anyway,” I grinned, hugging my dad. “Speaking of Mom, where is she, anyway?”
“Off checking in with contacts as usual.”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you two usually more synced than this?”
My dad nodded. “She said she was going to be late because she had a special stop to make.”
“That’s... awfully cryptic. Maybe ominous? I’d be worried if it were anyone else.” I wasn’t really sure what to make of it. Did it have to do with me? Or was there some other looming threat I didn’t know about? A frown crept up my lips.
“Trouble does often regret finding your mother.” He smiled reassuringly. “Besides, she promised me it was nothing dangerous.”
I nodded. By now I was growing tired of worry, doom and gloom—it was time for a change of subject. My eyes fell on the kitchen table. “So, how’s the shop doing?”
Dad grinned. “Well, for starters, I offloaded my entire book stock.”
With a giggle, I met his smirk. “Never would have guessed.”
---
The next night brought a half-planned date with Night. With both of us playing catch-up on so many things, we hadn’t had a chance to make any decisions beyond the fact that it was happening. Night drifted down slowly, his coat tinting a faint purple as the sun’s orange light washed over him.
But something wasn’t quite right. He seemed to be favouring his left wing. My eyes fell on his right side, where it was clear that his jerky motions were meant to avoid full extension of that side’s muscles.
“Night, your side. What happened?” I had a sneaking suspicion I knew the answer and wasn’t sure if it was more or less preferable than any alternatives.
He hesitated before blurting everything out at once. “Well... it was a bit unexpected. I, um, was given a little test by, well... your mom. But it wasn't a bad meeting!”
“By my—” It was just as I thought: the only ‘special contact’ Mom had had was her hoof to Night’s ribs. Anger and relief fought for dominance. “She tested you?”
Night smiled unconvincingly. “Err, yes. It went... alright. I mean, I'm still standing here. I think if it had gone poorly, there'd be a lot less of me left to go out on a date with you.”
“Unbelievable. She actually attacked you? And she hit you that hard?” I shook my head. It was one thing for Mom to surprise me, which was already iffy in public, but Night? There were more than a few things wrong with that. I hoped no one had seen them. The kind of fallout from that getting reported could last for months. I circled Night, taking an assessment of his injuries. Some of the anger fell away as I realized she’d shown more restraint than usual.
“I mean, it's not as bad as it looks. A bit tender, but I guess she saw whatever she needed to see.” Night protested. “I mean, in the end she gave me some advice and a hug and told me to take care of myself.”
Even more of the anger washed away as the words hit me. Hug. Mom didn’t just hug anyone. I let out a deep sigh. I still wasn’t happy that she couldn’t have approached what she wanted to do like a normal pony, but I could at least take some comfort in her intent. “Well, I guess that's something. Consider it a ‘Welcome to the family.’”
Night went beet red as he almost tripped over himself. “I, er, what? Welcome to…”
I looked him straight in the eye. “Not a word of this to my mom, but she wouldn't have bothered testing if you didn't already have her approval. Sorry, seems some of the weirdness of my life is rubbing off on you.”
“I don't think I've ever been so happy to be challenged to a fight. I, um... well, I'm happy she thinks that way.” His smile was much less forced this time, almost like he wanted to laugh.
“I'm glad to hear it too.” I sighed, relieved that he was taking it so well. I had to imagine the vast majority of people would be driven off by my mom’s antics. It was almost funny to think about, really. That is, one of the shyest people I know taking such insanity in stride. Then again, if the evil dragon warlord hadn’t sent him screaming for the hills, I suppose a little sparring with my mom wouldn’t have seemed so bad. With my fears settled, I started walking, Night quickly joining me on my right.
“Though, she said I needed more training, recommended I ask my dad.” He leaned in and nuzzled, as though he needed to reassure me. In truth, my mom tells everyone they need more training. Still, I appreciated the intent and nuzzled back. “Which, uh, brings me to something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh? What's that?”
Oddly, Night looked a little sheepish. “Well, Mahogany swung by the house, and we had a talk about the whole situation with his dad. And that was after your mom had talked to me. Well, between dealing with those two issues, I just... figured I should talk to my dad again.”
I nodded, mind filled with dozens of ideas of how Mahogany might be able to finally move past Birch’s shenanigans. “I'm glad Mahogany is asking for help. As far as your dad goes, I think that’s the fastest way to get our answers—perhaps the only way if my mom thinks you could use his specific training.”
“I agree. I thought it was, uh, a good reason to, maybe... visit home,” he said, revealing the source of his nerves.
“Oh? Going to go see your family, then?” I gave him a reassuring smile.
“Yeah. After everything up ‘til now, it just... it feels like it's time. Probably past time, honestly.”
“You've been through a lot. The important question is if you're ready to go back now.” I wrapped a wing around him. To me, the question had an obvious answer. My words were more a matter of getting Night to feel the same.
“Yes, I think I am. Dusky, when I go home, would it be too much to ask if you'd come with me? I can do this, but, I'd feel better if you were there with me. If that's okay with you.”
Meeting the rest of his family. To think how far we’d come. I don’t think there was a way I could say ‘no’, but even if I did feel I could consider it, I sort of owed him after what my mom did. “I'd love to, Night.”
He grinned widely, suddenly standing a little taller. “Thanks.”
With that settled, there was one last thing to address. As I turned into the park, I said, “Speaking of travel, that reminds me. I'm planning out my summer trip. You were going to tell me that you were coming along, right?”
Night’s face brightened. “Oh, you're making your plans?”
“Pretty much done, actually.” I smirked. “Just need to make sure I was alright booking rooms for two.”
Colour filled his cheeks again. “Two! Um, two is good. I meant to tell you... once I was sure everything was alright with work, that is. Everything's pretty much in order for me to come, if you still want me to.”
I giggled. Even with his explanation, it was a tad later than I’d have liked, but everything was still manageable. I’d just have to talk to him about being more on top of things in the future. “In order, eh? Sounds like your plans are pretty much done too, then? Because of course I'd love to have you along.”
“Then you'll have me. I... I know how important your trips are to you.” Most of his embarrassment left his grin.
“They are, but they're not the only important thing.” I smiled, taking a moment to sneak a nuzzle.
“It's the least I can do. After all, I love you.”
“And I love you too.” By now, we’d reached the top of one of the hills. The view wasn’t the best, but it was good enough that I didn’t see any use in being finicky. I settled onto my haunches.
Night chuckled. “I thought we were getting dinner.”
“We are.” I stole a peck on his cheek. “After the sunset.”
“That does sounds wonderful.” As he settled down, he leaned in for a longer kiss. When he pulled away, he had that dreamy look in his eye. “I... I still don't know what I did to deserve this.”
“You survived my mother.” I smirked. “And most of all, you are just your sweet self.”
The flight to Cloudsdale was uneventful. Despite that, I felt a lingering edginess, one that went beyond my usual caution. I supposed the Badlands had left their mark. However, as fearsome as the Badlands are, they’re no match for the scent of Cloudsdale. That euphoric, perpetual spring smell calmed me right down. As much as I love Ponyville, this is something I’ll always miss. I suppose that’s why I never get tired of working weather. Of course, that’s always just a little whiff to tide me over—no other city can replicate the sheer volume of clouds required.
Night was also tense, though I had a suspicion he had things other than wild monsters on his mind. Rather, even if he found clouds as calming as I, it was easily offset by what awaited him within the city.
He led us deep into one of the suburbs, where our flight took us over dozens of identical turquoise roofs. As we descended into his old neighbourhood, it became clear that the roofs weren’t the only things that were all the same. They were all budget houses, though that wasn’t to say they looked bad or even small. No, they were rather sizable and actually looked quite nice, but it was clear that they owed this at least in part to the fact that they were essentially mass manufactured two-story townhouses. If not for numerous signs bearing their owners’ cutie marks, I’d have questioned how anyone ever figured out how to get home after work.
We only had to walk a few feet before I spotted Noble Light’s radiant shield. Beside it was a blue star, shining a searchlight down until it hit some imaginary surface. Night stopped just shy of the walkway, his eyes boring a hole through the fluffy, violet door, then the sign.
He turned to me. “Y-you don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to. I’m asking too much of you.”
I leaned over and nudged at his chin. I’d have been very surprised if he wasn’t already thinking of at least a dozen ways this could go wrong. “You’re not. We’re not taking on a bunch of Everfree monsters, it’s your family.”
“I don’t know... it…” Night shrunk back, “...it looks like home, but it just... it doesn't feel like it anymore. She doesn’t want to see me again, not after I ran like I did.”
With another nudge, I shook my head. “You’ll be fine, Night. Just relax. Remember how happy Mint and your dad were? This will be the same.”
He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath before turning back to the door. Hoof shaking, he knocked once. The door flew open. Standing in the doorway was a mare whose turquoise coat was just a little bolder than the houses. Wavy purple hair framed tearful ruby eyes as they stared out at Night.
There was that awkward five or so seconds where neither seemed to know what to say. Night’s eyes mirrored the mare’s as he choked out, “I... M-Mom…”
Night’s mom darted forward, wrapping him in her wings like he was still a foal. “Shhh, it’s alright, Night Light.”
He leaned into the hug, resting his head under hers. “I... I missed you so much.”
“I know. I missed you too.” She smiled as she nodded. “You were so close in Ponyville, yet so far away. But it's okay now. You're back.”
Confusion spread over Night’s face and he sniffed as he looked up. “You... you knew I was in Ponyville?”
She pulled him close again. “Of course I knew. You were lost. But I knew you didn’t want to be found. It hurt my heart, but I knew it’d only force you further away if we reached out. You had to come home on your own.”
Even after all this time, it seemed she knew her son quite well, allaying fears before the questions could even leave his mouth. I supposed, given Noble’s profession and that she knew where Night was, she had to have known more than was readily apparent. I couldn’t help but raise a bit of an eyebrow. At the same time, who could really blame a loving mother for finding a way to check in on her son? In the very least, I had to admire how much she was willing to respect his space.
“I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry,” Night sobbed.
“Shh, it’s alright. Come inside and let’s catch up.” As she released Night, she looked up at me. “And of course you’re welcome too, Ms. Down. I’m Guiding Light. I’d been hoping I'd get a chance to meet you.”
I nodded. “I’m glad to finally meet you as well.”
As Guiding Light stepped back, I slid up beside Night and stole a peck. “I told you it’d be fine.”
He nodded, his grin a little sheepish. “You did. Thank you.”
The entrance was part of a short hallway, with the only thing to keep it company being a wooden end table sporting a soft purple vase. A door on the immediate left led off into what looked like a living room. The right was blocked off by a closed door and, finally, the end opened up into the kitchen. From there, Noble Light emerged.
He grinned. “Night, Dusky. I’m happy to see you both again, and in much more pleasant circumstances. I have to assume this isn’t just a social call?”
Shrinking down a bit, Night traced a few misshapen circles along the floor before he found his words. “Well, not exactly... I mean, I agreed to ask your advice on something for a friend, and I also want your help on something else, if you can. Beyond that... I just, I wanted to come home.”
Noble let out a fatherly chuckle. “I think I understand, Night. We can get to business, but I hope you'll stay for dinner first. We have a nearly full house tonight, but always room for two more.”
Night perked up, long-lost memories from his foalhood awakening. “Mom’s been cooking?”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “That sounds like a yes to me.”
By now, Night had reached a level of giddiness for food I only thought possible on the Pinkie Pie spectrum. “Oh, um, well, yes, then!”
“Of course you will. I should get things ready.” Guiding Light planted a kiss on Night’s forehead before departing.
“Excellent. Then let's go relax and catch up, shall we?” Noble’s grin broadened, though the next thing he said almost seemed to be directed entirely at me. “Guiding has asked me to stay out of the kitchen today. She may have her hooves full, but she says in the kitchen I do more harm than good. Besides, somepony has to keep an eye on all you kids.”
It was a little bit hard to picture at first, since my mom and dad were both pretty adept at cooking, but then I thought back to the first time I’d tried to ‘help’ out. In my defense, an overenthusiastic, little filly is almost invariably going to have a skewed sense of measurement when it comes to sugar.
He turned off into the left doorway and sure enough, it was indeed the living room. It was a pretty standard layout for living rooms, with a large window looking out onto the street and a cloud couch against the far wall. There were also a few fabric chairs in a semicircle facing the couch that were clearly out of place—no doubt they’d been brought in to accommodate the Lights’ full house. Against the closest wall was a set of stairs, a trail of toys starting from the floor and ascending until I lost sight at the top.
All along the walls—especially on the stairs’ side—were frames, mostly containing photos, although there were more than a few newspaper clippings. While I’d seen people frame things like this, the sheer volume was more than enough to pique my curiosity. However, I didn’t have time to pay them much mind as an aquamarine hoof waved from the couch.
“The prodigal son returns. And here I thought we’d finally scared him off for good.” The mare was sprawled all over the couch in a way that couldn’t be good for her posture. Her eyes were shadowed by her messy, blue-ish grey and red forelock, though the mischievous grin told me all I needed to know.
Another mare, this one yellow, with a long orange mane that was roughly kept in check by a red bandana, traced the trail of toys with her piercing green eyes. The smiling sun on her flank matched her own smile, even as her eyes flitted over to her sister. “Well, no thanks to you, Di.”
“Hush, girls. Be nice to your brother,” Guiding Light said as she stepped out from behind the stairs, a bowl tucked under one wing and the other working a spoon. Her sudden appearance threw me off a bit, but I really should’ve been able to guess that there’d be another entrance over there. She continued, “He’s been through a lot and the last thing any of us want is for him to leave again.”
“You two have no idea how much he’s been through.” Mint called from the top of the stairs. She hurried down, giving both Night and I hugs with a fluidity that almost made it one. “So good to see you both.”
I smiled. “And to see you too.”
Night almost seemed overloaded, not quite sure where to look, when he finally snapped to. “Oh, um, introductions! Dusky, the um, one on the couch is Diamond Wing. And she’s Sun Smile. Diamond, Sun, this is Dusky. They’re, um... maybe not quite monsters, but…”
“Monsters?” Diamond Wing was up with a speed that I didn’t think possible from such a contorted start. Regardless, she was now hovering over Night, staring down at him. “Monsters! I’m insulted, Nighty! Come here, I’ll show you a monster!”
Before Night could get out of the way, she tackled him. He squirmed, though there was no escaping such a bear hug. “Monster hug, now come on. Sit. Talk. Tell us all your embarrassing secrets, and we’ll probably tell you all of Spring’s.”
Night rolled his eyes as he made his way to one of the chairs. “Spring has no embarrassing secrets, they’re all very public. Just the other day she was telling me about challenging stallions to a ‘bubble off’.”
I raised an eyebrow, half at the ‘bubble off’ and half at the present situation. In the end, I just found myself giggling. “Well, they seem pretty friendly for monsters, Night.”
Night met my smirk. “Yeah, on the surface, Dusky. Don’t let your guard down.”
“That’s it? Lame,” a colt’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs. He wasn’t quite in view, but I could see a few shadows shifting around.
Another colt cut in. “Lame?! Nah, see, that’s why he’s so cool. You don't even know what he’s capable of.”
“Capable of being totally lame.”
Mint winked before whistling. “Private, front and centre.”
A small, green colt came scrambling down the stairs, engaging in something of a hurried march. When he reached the middle of the room, he gave Mint a salute that was entirely too cute. “Yes, sir, Mom.”
“Mom?” Night looked between the colt and Mint, seemingly unable to comprehend. I supposed it only made sense. He’d been out of touch so long that he must have still thought of his sisters as younger than they were.
Mint simply pointed a wing at Night. “That is your Uncle Night. Keep your wings to your sides. Half speed. Go.”
The colt hit Night’s leg with enough force to stagger him, though I’m sure that, even were he about to fall, the foal wrapped around his foreleg would have kept him anchored. A smile filled his face as he started to understand the full extent of being ‘Uncle Night’. “Oh, uh, hey there. You’re... Mint’s... son?”
“Yessir. Private Custard.” Custard stepped back, his wings buzzing with excitement. “You’re really Uncle Night? I knew it. You’re awesome.”
Night blinked. “I’m... awesome?”
A light red muzzle poked around the banister from near the top of the stairs. “I bet he’s not really a spy. You made that up, Custard. It’s total horse flop.”
“Language, Speed!” Sun Smile hissed. “Where did you learn that?”
Speed’s descent was, ironically, much slower than Custard’s. He stopped to kick one of the toys. “Aunt Spring.”
“Of course.” Sun Smile followed up by muttering something under her breath.
Custard gazed up at Night, giving him an extremely earnest look. “My mom says Aunt Spring is a bad influence, and I shouldn’t say any of the words she teaches me.”
Night smiled, his voice almost drowned out beneath Diamond Wing’s laughter. “Your mom’s pretty smart.”
“Nine, ten, eleven. Eleven ponies.” Guiding Light’s hoof bobbed from just behind the stairs. “Hmph. I should head back to the kitchen. There’s an awful lot that still needs to get ready.”
I thought it a little odd that she needed to do a headcount of her own foals and grandfoals. If anyone should know the number without even thinking, it’d be her. I had to wonder if maybe it was a ‘hint, hint, nudge, nudge’ aimed at her foals, though they all seemed to have their hooves full with the colts’ shenanigans.
Night, especially, just seemed to be getting into the groove. Rather than pull him away, I turned to Guiding Light. “I can help out. Give Night some time to catch up with his siblings and nephews.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose, but if you don’t mind, an extra set of hooves can work miracles in the kitchen.” As Guiding Light motioned toward the back of the stairs, I couldn’t help but be struck by the notion that, between how quickly she’d accepted and the rather overdramaticness of it all, I’d been her target.
I really hoped it wasn’t going to be one of those ‘please give me tons of grandfoals’ talks that I’d always heard about. As much as I liked Night, I wasn’t too crazy on the prospect of foals for a number of reasons—chief among them being the amount of things trying to kill me. However, I was getting ahead of myself when I hadn’t even left the living room. Sneaking in a wave to Night, I followed after Guiding Light.
The kitchen was rather modest in size, though that only served to consolidate the myriad of smells. The strongest was a heart-stopping, alfredo scent emanating from the oven. It was difficult to see, but there looked to be a large casserole dish with cheese layered on top. Perhaps a white, broccoli lasagna. Atop the stove was a shallow frying pan, containing large lumps that looked vaguely like corn cobs and carrots buried beneath a thick, buttery sauce. Finally, Guiding Light’s latest project: a series of peeled sweet potatoes, lay waiting on a cutting board. Given the bowl, I guessed she meant to batter them. I could already feel myself salivating, though with the sheer richness of all the dishes, I had to imagine I wouldn’t need to eat for the next three days.
“Be a dear and slice those for me, please.” Guiding Light motioned to the cutting board.
After rinsing my wings, I set to work. The wingblade was a far cry from the quality of my blade, but expecting such a thing from a kitchen knife was probably unreasonable. Actually, were that the case, I’d probably have been a little freaked out. In any event, since I didn’t have to use my mouth, it made for a breezy and relaxing exercise.
“So, you work weather, right? Is that how you and Night Light met?” she asked as she turned the corn and carrots.
“Sort of. We knew of each other, but he largely kept to himself. It wasn’t until Mahogany brought him to the bar that I really got to know him.”
Guiding Light stopped, turning to look at me. “The bar.”
“I know, right?” I couldn’t help but smirk. “After we’d had a chance to talk, I was as surprised as anyone. Really, were it not for Mahogany, I don’t think any of this would have happened.”
“Mmmm. Mahogany sounds like a good friend.” Scooping up the bowl again, she started battering my slices. “It’s a shame I never got to meet him.”
“With things shaping up the way they are, I’m sure Night could arrange that.” I chose my words carefully. While I’d considered bringing up Mahogany’s family troubles, without Noble present, I saw no real point to the conversation. At best, all it was going to do was incite worry.
“That does sound nice.”
We stood in silence for a few moments, crackling and sizzling filling the air in our stead. At last, she turned to me again. “Do you have any big aspirations?”
“Er, well, one of these years, I want to hike across Neighpon. I’ve been planning it for a long time, but the distance to even get there is rather far and things keep coming up.” I decided it would be best not to mention Ostfriesen and the Badlands, among other things. They were suited to a much more serious sit-down conversation—not that this wasn’t serious to begin with. In fact, I almost felt like I was here for a job interview.
“Anything to do with work? Or future work? Or plans for a family?” Guiding Light spoke as though this was completely casual conversation, battering each slice without missing a beat.
With those questions, especially the one about family, I no longer had any suspicions. This was an interview—a test, even. Oh, Celestia. Don’t tell me what my mom does is normal. Is this the fate of all mothers?
A vision of Terra acting this way sprang to mind such that I couldn’t decide if it was plausible or comically stupid. Shaking my head, I replied, “I can’t say for sure. My life demands that I be rather adaptive. I can’t see myself going for a managerial position. Maybe there’s something big for me in the future, but it’s not like I’m a fortune teller.”
“And family?”
“I… think Night is all I need for now. We’re not really at the point in our relationship where we can seriously think about that.” I smiled. “Sweet and romantic as he is, it’s because of those same traits that we need to be careful not to get too carried away.”
Guiding Light seemed to relax, though to be frank, I was hardly aware she was tense at all. She certainly has a much better Poker face than her son, that’s for sure. “I’m glad to hear that. Night Light has always had a bit of a tendency to get his head stuck in the clouds. It’s nice to see that he’s found somepony who can appreciate it without overindulging it.”
“I try.” I laughed, a bit of my own tension escaping. It seemed I’d passed the test—for now. If Guiding Light was anything like my mom, she’d be back for more.
Guiding Light and I continued to work on the dishes, concentrating a bit harder now that we had her test out of the way. The longer we went, the more I realized I had a bit of a chance to turn the tables. The question, then, was whether or not I should go for it. It wasn’t until that idle period, when everything was just reaching the final stretch of its cooking period, that I made my decision.
“So, what do you do for a living, anyway?”
“Me? I’m retired.” Guiding Light smiled broadly, as though she’d just been waiting for me to ask. “But I used to work for the Four-Oh-Four.”
“Search and rescue?” I creased my brow, yet the more I thought about it, the less surprised I was. With the way she carried herself and questioned me, it only made sense—not to mention that was she unusually fit for someone who was retired.
“That’s the one. It’s how I met Noble.”
“You saved him?” As unromantic as that situation actually would have been, I couldn’t help but indulge my imagination, if only a little.
She laughed. “No. Not that time, anyway. He was still a sergeant back then. He and his squad were the first on the scene to a routine storm gone bad. Several of the workers were scattered and lost in the heavy rain. When my team arrived shortly after, we had to make a concerted effort if we hoped to be fast enough. It was a difficult job, but with a little determination, we were able to get everypony out.”
I couldn’t help but think back to my own attempts at search and rescue—the Ponyville blizzard, as well as a few other shaky one-off volunteer jobs—even though it was hardly fair to compare myself to a professional.
Shaking off the feeling, I mustered a smirk. “Sounds like a bit of a novel.”
“If you’re expecting me to say that, with the weather pegasi all saved, the two of us, tired and exhausted, yet high on adrenaline, shared a passionate kiss over a job well done, then retired to a hotel room, then yes, you are correct.” She met my smirk, adding a raised eyebrow.
“And that’s how Sun Smile was conceived, so you married and bought a house, living happily together as you expanded your family?” I tried to keep my expression from going even less straight.
“Yes.” Finally, Guiding Light broke into a laugh. “Reciting Gabby Grain aside, I do have to say that there was a definite attraction. Perhaps not head-over-hooves swooning, but it was powerful enough to bring us together all the same. And we actually got to know each other before we tied the knot!”
I giggled. “Always a good thing, if you ask me. Did you keep working together?”
“For a while. We were in the same small town, after all. But, careers like ours, they have a tendency of going different directions. I thought we might have to break it off, but even though he was in Canterlot, he kept finding time to come back and see me.”
I smiled warmly. “Aw. I guess now I know where Night gets that from.”
With a nod, Guiding Light flipped the oven open, casually checking the casserole. “They’re more alike than most ponies would guess.”
“Seems like. I know I wouldn’t have been quite on the mark with that.” Thinking a little more about it, maybe Night subconsciously saw that and that was why he thought he had to follow in his father’s hoofsteps. “What happened next?”
“At first I was uncertain. Long-distance relationships have their reputation for a reason. All I knew is I couldn’t let him keep overexerting himself like that. I wanted to be closer to him, for both of our sakes. I requested a transfer to Canterlot.”
“But it didn’t work out?” I asked.
She nodded. “Canterlot is the big, glamourous city. Big pay, big comfort and in the centre of Equestria. Everypony wanted the job. Given the Princess and general safer environment, openings were even more limited than usual.”
“Yet you made it work.”
“We did.” Guiding Light let out a sigh, her eyes remembering what wasn’t the happiest of times. However, a smile began to grow again as she continued. “It was a long and hard process, but I eventually got on the waiting list for Cloudsdale. The travel distance was still more than we’d like, but it was still miles closer than Narwhal Cove. It was enough for us to start our home here.”
I smiled. “And that’s how it’s been ever since?”
“Aside from my retirement, yes.”
“Did something happen?” I was almost afraid to ask.
“Just age. As rewarding as it is, it takes a certain toll, even more than a regular military career.” She laughed. “Besides, if us vets just keep going until we keel over, all the new blood who take our place will be useless.”
“So, you retired from active duty to show them the ropes, is that it?”
“Exactly. Sometimes I even pop down to the barracks to make sure they aren’t slacking. Can’t hold the lives of others in their hooves if they won’t even take care of their own.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know, I swear you and my mom must get together and share trade secrets.”
“Oh, we do. Just this last Tuesday, in fact.”
Ding.
Before I could reply, Guiding Light turned back to the oven, saying, “And there’s the timer. We’d better get this stuff out there. I’m sure everypony is getting hungry.”
She slipped out of the room, though I could still quite clearly hear her calling the others to assemble for dinner. Once she returned, we carefully carried each dish out to the dining room. The long cloud table had already been set with conspicuous spaces left empty for each dish.
Everyone had just finishing filing in when we arrived, with only the foals lagging in finding their seats. However, once they smelled the food, they settled down. Among them were a couple fillies who I didn’t recognize. Both were a light violet—twins perhaps. One had a look of simultaneous boredom and curiosity, as though she might poke a beehive just to see what would happen. The other bore the gentlest of stares, watching Night with a sort of melancholy that told me she could see at least some part of his pain. Perhaps she didn’t completely understand, but compassion doesn’t necessarily require that. I made a mental note to ask a bit more about them once the chaos died down.
It never did.
If anything, the room only got crazier, with each sister passing the dishes around in a nonlinear fashion, further complicated by the foals. Speed tried to take a portion about a quarter the size of the casserole dish, stopped only by Sun Smile. Custard seemed to be having some trouble with the utensils, which required Mint to step in. Finally, while the two fillies, who seemed to be the eldest of the foals, didn’t require help at all, they were easily distracted by everyone else, letting the dishes sit in front of them for much longer than necessary.
After a bit, there was one thing that really stood out to me: whatever the barely coherent pattern of crisscrossing dishes, Night was at the fringe of it, neither actively passing nor holding out his hooves for a dish. Instead, he waited until someone noticed a dish hadn’t come his way and sent it in that direction.
It hit me that, with some outlying exception, this was probably how life with his sisters always was. Everyone was busy doing their own thing, too busy to coordinate—and Night was kind of just there. That a young foal might feel lost and lonely seemed, not only likely, but like the natural course of events.
I leaned over and snuck a quick nuzzle. Night startled a little, some thoughts still lingering in his eyes. A warm smile spread across his lips, though his expression was still a little quizzical.
Smiling back, I said, “Sorry if I interrupted your train of thought.”
Night shook his head. “I was thinking about you and everypony, anyway.”
I let my grin grow, deciding not to press him any further. “How sweet.”
---
The chaos continued unabated until everyone’s appetite finally slowed. From there, Noble and Guiding Light traded places, Guiding Light leading us back to the living room while Noble tended to the mess in the kitchen.
We weren’t in the room for two minutes before the foals became restless, begging Sun Smile and Mint for permission to go outside. Neither seemed too inclined to say ‘no’, with the only condition being the usual promise to be careful.
As Guiding Light settled into one of the chairs, she smiled, surveying the room as she let out a satisfied sigh. “It really is wonderful to have all you kids back in the house. Such a shame Spring couldn’t make it.”
Diamond Wing chuckled. “You just got rid of her. You eager to have her move back in already?”
A look crossed Guiding Light’s face that I recognized from my own mother’s: that conflict of sadness, yet knowing that her children will never fly if they don’t leave the nest. “Maybe not, but when your father is off on duty, it can get a bit lonely here, now that everypony has moved on.”
“Well, not like we don't visit all the time,” Mint said from the back door. Despite the foals’ promises, she’d stationed herself there, stealing glances out the window every now and then. “I couldn’t keep Custard from visiting his favourite grandparents.”
“Why is everypony here, anyway?” Night looked at each of his sisters. “Is there some special event I forgot?”
Diamond Wing laughed, the biggest tell. His other sisters merely smiled, though there was even a hint of knowing there.
Guiding Light let out a chuckle of her own. “Mint comes home a lot, and Diamond usually stays in her old room when she's back from her tours with the Wonderbolts. I asked Sun to come with her family too, of course. It just seemed like a good day for a big meal.”
“Did... you know I was coming home?” Night fidgeted.
“Of course I didn't, Night Light.” Guiding Light closed her eyes. I didn’t think she was lying—not in the context of today, but I suspected she’d always been ready. The only question had been when. “But your father has told me everything that's happened between you since you met him in Canterlot. He told me about Fillydelphia, and thank Celestia that you're okay after everything that happened.”
When she opened her eyes, her gaze flitted over me.
“You told me you wanted to come home,” Mint said. “We all knew it was just a matter of time after that.”
“Hell, you actually came to find me.” A mischievous grin formed on Diamond Wing’s lips. “With the dopiest look on your face. I mean, how could I resist giving you a hard kick, for old times' sake?”
Guiding Light’s motherly stare turned upon her daughter. “Diamond Wing, you didn’t.”
Night laughed as he stared off into space. “Well, um, sure you kicked me, but, um, you were the one crying.”
“You made Diamond cry, Night? Tell me your secrets.” Sun Smile smirked from behind her wine glass.
“Pfft. He was crying too.” Diamond Wing waved as hoof as she rolled her eyes.
“Oh, I wouldn't have questioned that.” Sun Smile shrugged. “It's very hard not to make him cry.”
Mint was suddenly on edge, staring down at Diamond Wing. “I thought you two made up? All I'm hearing is punching and crying.”
Night nodded and Mint seemed to relax. “Well, there was punching, and then a lot of crying. But I think we came to an understanding. We, uh, both agreed to, um, start over.”
Leaning back in her seat, Diamond Wing grinned widely at Night. “And starting over also means you didn't come alone. Wasn't expecting that. So, Dusky, what does my brother think a date is?”
I shot Night a grin of my own. “Dinner and dancing. He's gotten very good at dancing.”
Sun Smile’s wine was forgotten as she leaned forward. “Dancing? Honestly, I'm shocked he can even hold your hoof without exploding. So how hard did you have to pull his tail to get him out from under the table?”
“Honestly, he was the one who approached me. Though we didn't start dating right away. Only after we'd gotten to know one another.” I met her gaze with a smile.
“I, uh, didn't mean this to be about Dusky and I…” Colour filled Night’s cheeks. “I just wanted some... support.”
Mint laughed. “Well, I'm sure Dusky is okay with a bit of interrogation. No knives, of course.”
I was almost embarrassed, though Guiding Light’s deep frown quickly escalated it into a bit of alarm. “Knives? Which of you had the knife?”
After a moment, it occurred to me that, given what Noble had likely told her, she might just take such jokes more seriously than we’d expect. And, well, there was the complication that it had actually happened—even if it wasn’t quite as she assumed.
“Well, uh. Certainly wasn't either me or Dusky…” Mint shrank back a little, quickly turning back to Diamond Wing. “Still, don't push her too far, Di.”
Diamond Wing, in turn, only seemed encouraged, giving me a grin that almost felt a little flirty. “Honestly? Hot mare with a knife? Sounds like a hell of night. Well, Dusky, if my brother finally manages to screw up this whole relationship, you wanna look me up?”
I blinked. Part of me had to admit that her toned physique was quite pleasing to the eye, but that’s where the attraction stopped. Night’s feelings and all the other complications implied by Diamond Wing’s scenario aside, I couldn’t see myself in a relationship with someone with that kind of attitude.
Night was practically choking on his tongue as he tried to find his words. But he had little chance, as it was Mint, her face contorted with anger, who said, “Cut that out Diamond. You trying to set yourself up for another Compass Rose?”
Diamond Wing looked like Mint had just picked her up and slammed her into the wall. I glanced over at Night, who seemed just as confused as I. Regardless, whoever this mare was, she meant a lot in a bad way. Perhaps she was an old flame or even a first crush.
Barely a beat passed before Mint’s ears fell. “Oh, hell. Sorry, Di. I didn't mean…”
At the same time, Guiding Light was out of her seat, crossing the room. “Mint Creme, that is enough! You should know better, Mint.”
This time Mint looked like she’d struck herself, her face filled with the kind of regret that weighed heavily on the inside.
Guiding Light took a moment to hold Diamond Wing tight before glancing back at Mint. “I know you two are like oil and water sometimes, but there was no excuse for that. Diamond, you know we love you because of who you are, not in spite of it. Your brother is back, and the least you two can do is stop your feud.”
I looked at Night again. Guilt filled his face, almost as though he was the one who’d said what Mint had. I had no doubt that he considered the whole feud his fault. He motioned toward his sisters and I nodded.
Night stood, moving to the middle of his family. “Diamond... Di. Mint. Sun. I... I screwed up. When I left, it was because I felt like a burden. I broke promises and was in the way. I felt like the little brother that no one wanted. It wasn't fair to me, but it wasn't fair to any of you either.”
An uneasy silence filled the room. Mint’s eyes were on the floor. Finally, she looked up, her gaze slowly drifting over to Diamond Wing. “Sorry, Sis’. I shouldn't have tried to hurt you like that.”
Diamond Wing let out a sigh. “I guess I can forgive you. I forget I can push too far sometimes, too.”
“I never wanted anypony getting hurt because of me. I left for a lot of reasons, but no one was at fault.” Tears streamed down Night’s cheeks. “I didn't come home because... I needed to realize I was worth being loved before I could come home. I had to be okay with who I was, and... I am now.”
Guiding Light looked between each of her foals. “I love you all. But you need to put it behind you. Especially now.”
As much as I wanted to hug Night right now, I didn’t want to ruin the moment. So, for the moment, I settled for a smile.
---
The rest of the evening was much less dramatic, even though we spent some time sharing our travel stories. It probably helped that we tried to filter out the more distressing details. In turn, Night’s sisters shared some details of their lives, including each of the foals, Diamond Wing’s training for the Wonderbolts and Mint’s career.
As the night went on, Sun Smile departed, taking her foals with her. Likewise, Mint needed to attend to Custard, though they only had to head upstairs to the guest room. This left us with Guiding Light, Noble and Diamond Wing.
At this point, Night turned to Noble. “So, um, Dad. I suppose before it gets too late, I did have a few questions to ask you, if you don't mind.”
Noble chuckled. “Not at all, Night. in fact, I was about to ask you what had brought you here. Do you want to talk in my study?”
“It would probably be best,” I said.
“This way, then.”
He led us back through the entrance hall and into the room on the right. The study was pretty typical, for a Cloudsdale office, anyway. A wide cloud desk sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by a series of metal filing cabinets. On the flanks of the cabinets were a pair of cloud bookcases, though each shelf was fairly sparsely populated. I supposed someone like Noble would need to have most of his files secured.
As he slid the door closed, he turned to us. “So, let’s hear it.”
“It’s about Mahogany. He’s having...” Night almost looked pained as he pushed the words out, “... problems with his family.”
Noble thought for a moment. “Abuse, then?”
Night looked up at his father, mouth partially open, though the words had already been snatched from his tongue.
“Don’t look so surprised.” Noble’s smile was more than a little fatherly. “I know you wouldn’t come to me for something trivial and were it an emergency, we wouldn’t have had supper first.”
I nodded. “His father has been actively interfering in his life, including breaking into his home.”
“Hmmm. That sounds pretty cut and dry. What’s the complication?”
“He didn’t report it to the Guard.” I gave him an apologetic look. “We assumed this would severely limit his options, though none of us have the expertise to say for sure.”
“So you came to me.” Noble frowned deeply. “This will hinge on some other finer details. How long has it been since the incident?”
“About a month?” Night looked at me.
I had to think about it for a moment. So much had happened in Ostfriesen that it felt like we’d been gone for years. But, when I did the mental math, it checked out. “Yeah.”
There was a look of disappointment in Noble’s eye, though his expression hardly changed. I had to suspect that this wasn’t the first—nor the hundredth time—he’d been told this about a case. “That is a problem. Since it’s his home, it’s quite likely he’s inadvertently destroyed or tampered with the majority of what we could use. Were there any witnesses?”
“Mahogany never said.” A sigh escaped Night’s lips. “But, I don’t think he even asked anypony.”
“He said Birch only stole gifts the family had sent over for birthdays and other events,” I added. “It’s also likely that he had a key, so I don’t think it would have been particularly conspicuous.”
“It’s still worth pursuing.” Noble looked between the two of us. “If anypony even saw him on the premises, we’d have a starting point. Anything else you can tell me?”
Night seemed lost in himself for a second, but quickly perked up. “Oh, um, there’s also the bar.”
“The bar?” Noble’s expression was almost that of a blood hound. He could smell the witnesses—quite literally, if he ended up interviewing them.
The details came back rather easily as I elaborated. “They had a bit of a shouting match and Birch tried to drag Mahogany out of the bar when he refused to leave of his own volition. Mahogany hit him trying to break free, but the fight didn’t go any further than that. I think Birch decided to retreat because, by then, the whole room was watching.”
“If we can find somepony who was sober enough to corroborate your story, that should be an easy assault charge. That would also give us probable cause for the break and enter.” Noble stared at his desk, his eyes reading something only visible to him. More than likely he was already five steps ahead of us by this point.
I tried to think of who, outside of our circle, had been at the bar that night. While I suspected the sheer number of our group could largely dodge any accusations of bias, it never hurt to have a third party. Then it hit me and I wanted to facehoof at forgetting such an obvious choice. “You could talk to Barkeep. He’s got a really good view of the main room and while he sometimes knocks back a shot or two, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so much as faze him.”
“Good. I think this case is coming together quite nicely. I may need your testimony when we officially begin.” His eyes flitted over to me, sporting a careful, apologetic look that told me, ‘Only if you’re comfortable.’
I smiled appreciatively. “Count me in. And don’t worry about me. This is different from the last two times.”
“Of course, me as well.” Night agreed.
Noble nodded. “If we can successfully press charges, he’s looking at a fine, community service and a restraining order.”
I shook my head. “My experience with him is limited, but I somehow doubt he’ll adhere to any of that.”
“Perhaps not. Should that happen, we have ways of dealing with it.”
“Can’t say I can recall.” Mahogany’s neighbour, a ripe red stallion, squinted at the ‘photo’ dangling from my wing. Unsurprisingly, Mahogany didn’t have many photos of his father lying around, so we had to resort to a portrait cut out from one of the company fliers. Lucky for us, Birch was narcissistic enough to ensure he came out in high quality, even if it made his insincere smile significantly creepier.
Damn. I fought back a frown. This was the last apartment in this section, barring the one directly across from Mahogany’s. While we’d tried it first, our knocks had been met with silence. “We understand that it has been quite some time, but, if you do remember anything, please let us know.”
“Y’know…” He squinted again. “Maybe nopony remembers him because he looks so ordinary.”
“Ordinary?” I exchanged a glance with Mahogany, both of our eyes falling back on that creepy smile. To be frank, Mahogany had been rather detached during this whole process, as though he’d rather be somewhere else. I knew he had to have had a lot on his mind, so I let it slide. However, I was beginning to suspect he was thinking about something much heavier than I’d initially assumed. Despite that, this comment managed to get his full attention, including a quirked eyebrow. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Oh, y’know.” Mahogany’s neighbour started drawing circles in the air. “He’s the kind of pony who has to have your attention. He wants something from you or wants to sell you stuff and he’s right insistent about it. They’re a dime a dozen and once you’ve dealt with enough of ‘em, they all start to blend together.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “I guess that makes sense. We’ll keep it in mind. Thanks for your time.”
“Oh, of course. Wish I had better news for you. Good luck with your search.”
As the door swung shut, I turned back to face the hall. Nine apartments. Eight of them duds. I had to admit I was starting to feel weary.
“Guess that’s that.” Mahogany shrugged and moved back toward his apartment.
“We should try your other neighbour again. We’ve been down here for some time. And if he’s not back soon, we should try again later, since he’s the most likely to have seen something.”
“Great.” Mahogany rolled his eyes. “Then it’ll look like I’m stalking him.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think anyone’s going to fault you for knocking on a door every couple days. Besides, it’s not like you’re following him everywhere else.”
“Fine. But, if anypony calls me out, you’re taking the blame.”
Shaking my head, I sighed. “I don’t think that will happen, but if it does, yeah, give me a call and I’ll set them straight.”
I’d always been aware of just how dingy the light and slightly yellowed walls of this old building looked, but as I watched Mahogany, it almost seemed exacerbated. Or, perhaps it was the building’s dinginess that served to make him appear even more ragged.
He raised a hoof and knocked in a way that looked totally half-assed, but still had a solid echo.
No answer.
“Oh, I guess no one’s home. Oh, well, guess it’s a wash.” Mahogany spun to face his door.
I sighed again. “Why are you being so resistant to this? Are you still worried about further provoking him? We just need a couple small pieces to make this case really solid.”
“No. I’m not. I mean, maybe a little, but it’s just, this.” Mahogany looked down.
“This? Meaning, directly opposing him?”
Mahogany glanced side to side. “This whole thing—slinking around and being all crafty—it’s playing his game. We’re playing into his hooves.”
“That’s not true.” I shook my head. “Sure, we’re being sneaky about opposing him, but it’s not the same. He’s doing it all to manipulate you for his own gains. You’re doing it to counter his manipulation, to allow you to live your own life.”
“But we’re still playing his game.”
I was starting to suspect what might be bothering him. “Because he forced your hoof. You stood up for us and yourself. That, alone, makes all the difference.”
“No, I was angry, so angry at him. I lashed out. It just happened.” Mahogany’s eyes carried a strange mix of fear and affirmation. “You know who else gets angry and lashes out?”
Stepping forward, I placed a wing on his withers. “Mahogany, you are not your father. Anger is natural, even if it’s not the best thing to drive your actions. That it stemmed from the fact that you care enough about us—not a temper-tantrum that someone isn’t doing exactly as you say—that makes you a good person.”
Mahogany cracked the barest of smiles. “You’re good with words, Dusky, but words can’t fix everything.”
“I know.” I pulled him into a quick hug. “Were that true, we wouldn’t even have to be doing this.”
“Hey, you just like hanging out in the hall or what?” Approaching from the end of the hall was a stallion whose coat was nearly as teal as my scarf. His rose red mane was styled into a mohawk and a pair of thick sports shades sat on his muzzle. As he got closer, I could see what looked like a paint roller on his flank.
“Oh, Roller. We were just looking for you,” Mahogany said, a vaguely disappointed tinge to his voice.
“I gathered as much.” Roller glanced between us. “So, what is it?”
“Have you seen this pony?” I held up the photo again. “He would have been here a month or so ago.”
“Hmmm, yeah, I remember him.” Roller cocked his head at Mahogany. “Did something happen?”
“You could say that.” Mahogany nodded. “We had a… falling out.”
“And he’s a bit of a troublemaker,” I added.
“Wait.” There was a moment where realization seemed to hit Roller square in the muzzle. “If I get what you’re saying, he wasn’t supposed to be here?”
“Pretty much,” Mahogany said. “He stole a few things.”
“Aw, shit, sorry.” Roller scratched the back of his head. “I didn’t know. If I had, I would’ve told you. I mean, the guy seemed friendly enough and he had a key and everything.”
Mahogany sighed. “That ain’t your fault. He’s had a lot of practice being a sleazebag.”
“I’ll say.” Staring at Mahogany’s door, Roller’s eyes became distant for a couple moments. When he turned back to us, he said, “Guess this means you’re looking for witnesses, huh?”
“That about sums it up. What do you say?” I asked.
Roller looked back at Mahogany. “Shit, yeah, count me in. Can’t just let somepony get away with doing that in here.”
As Mahogany nodded, I could see a smile creeping up his lips.
---
While it’d taken over half the day, hitting on a better lead than we could have even hoped for made the whole thing worth it. I’d already sent word to Noble, but our task wasn’t quite done yet. Unfortunately, with only the evening left, there was nothing left to do but wait. Finding Barkeep was always going to be a given. However, the stallion had a business to run. There would be little room to chat about sensitive topics during peak hours. Further, the morning was also an iffy prospect, as he’d be more than likely dealing with inn things.
That suited me just fine, though, given I’d offered to train with Night the morning of the next day. Despite the discussion about Birch going rather late, Night still found a few moments to ask Noble about training. And if Noble was anything like my mother, I figured Night would need a bit of a warm-up before facing that kind of regimen.
As the door to Night’s place swung open, it was not he, but a white mare who stood before me. Barely a moment and she was a white and brown blur, lunging at me. I twisted my body, about a half-second from throwing her to the ground when I remembered that this was probably Night’s sister, Spring Showers. I relaxed a little as she wrapped her hooves around me, pulling me into a hug.
I blinked. “Uh, hello?”
A few moments passed, then Spring Showers’s eyes went wide and she released me, hastily stepping back. “Sorry! Sorry, if I invaded your space! It’s just that last time I saw you…”
Arching an eyebrow, I asked, “Last time you saw me? I don’t think we’ve met.”
“W-well…” Spring Showers looked winded. “You kinda weren’t awake. And kinda, sorta, really hurt. That’s why I’m so glad to see you’re okay.”
I froze. The Cartel attack.
I’d forgotten that Spring Showers had been with Night and the others that evening. A wave of guilt washed over me. “Oh, well, thanks for your concern. I’m really sorry you had to see me like that.”
She frowned. “You didn’t get that way because you wanted to. That was the bad guys’ fault.”
“Yeah, but if I’d been thinking way back." I shook my head. "I wouldn’t be a target in the first place."
“Oooooh. Regrets, huh? I get that. Sometimes you just say and do things you can’t take back and it scares off your little brother.” After a moment, she remembered I was there. “Or, uh, in your case, gets you chased by crazy, evil ponies.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I guess that’s one way of putting it. Some good has come of it, though. It brought my friends and I closer, among a few other things.”
“Closer, eh?” Spring Showers’s eyes lit up. “With Nighty?”
“Er, yes, he is my friend.”
“Aha! A classic. The Dangerous Mare and the Lonely Stallion. Did you share a passionate kiss after conquering your pasts?” She grinned wide.
Well, I don’t need to think too hard about who she inherited this from. I shook my head. “There wasn’t any conquering and, somehow, I don't think our experience has been anything like that book.”
“Book? No, no, no. This is a story of the world, old as time, bringing hundreds of ponies together through trials and tribulations to find their true love.” Spring Showers was practically bouncing at this point.
I never thought I'd meet anyone else who could quite rival Terra’s sense of romanticism, but here she was, not only in the same town, but in front of me. Then it hit me that the two of them had already met. I began to wonder just how many poor fools who wandered through those doors had fallen into their machinations. It was probably better not to think about it. “Uh, right. I still don’t think it’d quite line up. Anyway, is Night around?”
“Yep! He’s in the back with Mint.”
“Mint?” I tilted my head. I didn’t think that my message was enough for Noble to send someone in just yet. There had to be something else. “Did something happen?”
“Oh, yes. The whole whipping him thing is happening.” As though it even needed emphasis, Spring Showers swung her forehoof in a wide, lashing motion.
“Whip—” I arched a brow. Pinkie had conditioned my mind for this, though it was a bit odd coming from anyone other than her. I wondered if they were somehow vaguely related. “Oh, right. Training.”
“Yeah! That! C’mon, I'll take you to them.” Spring Showers led the way to the back of the house. At the very end of a hall was a sizable room, though it was rather bare, save for Night, Mint and a few stuffed training dummies. As I stepped through the doorway, the floor gave way a little. I supposed Night must have layered some softer clouds in for extra padding.
“A lot of high expectations come with being a Light. I guess I can’t blame you for wanting— Dusky!” Mint noticed us almost immediately and came trotting over. Night, who was still facing the other way, turned so red that I could see the colour off the back of his cheeks. It took all my willpower to hold back a giggle.
“Hello, Mint.” I smiled. “You’re helping with the sparring today?”
“Yep!” Mint replied. “Today, and for a little while, I figure. I didn’t realize you and Night were practicing together.”
The more I thought about it, the more I realized Mint was the obvious ideal choice. After all, as a drill sergeant, she would be used to working with people of varying skill levels. And there, I also saw an opportunity for myself, to hone my own style. “We weren’t before today.”
“Y-yeah.” Night chimed in. “We’ve fought together often enough... I just thought, maybe it’d be smart if we, um, train together... a bit.”
“Eh, he, he.” Spring Showers grinned wide. “Oh, I know how this goes. You and Dusky start to ‘practice’ and it’s all in good fun, then things start to heat up, and you were all punch and kick and then suddenly you’re wrestling to win, and Night looks up and sees Dusky standing over him, staring down, all covered in sweat. He reaches up to kiss her, and then they start t—”
Mint placed a hoof over Spring Showers’s mouth. “That’s just about enough of trashy romance theater, thank you, Sis’. You want to stay and make commentary, you have to stay and spar. Alright?”
Taking a step back, Spring Showers donned a pouty face the likes of which her nieces and nephews could only dream of achieving. “Awwwwww, fine. But don’t blame me if it all ends with the two of them making kissy faces!”
And with that, she was gone. I glanced back at Mint and smirked. “Trashy romance theater?”
She laughed. “Spring has a not-so-secret love for a very specific genre of books. She thinks nopony else knows. We all know.”
“Sorry about this, Dusky.” Night lowered his head. “I didn’t know Dad would send Mint today to help me train. If you want to postpone our sparring, I’ll understand.”
“Postpone nothing, Nighty. This is perfect. If you’re going to be training alongside Dusky, I can focus a little bit more on the gaps in both your knowledge.” There was almost a twinkle in Mint’s eye as she turned to me. “Though, that means I’ll need to learn where your strengths are. Care to go a round?”
It wasn’t exactly how I thought we’d start out, but it was more or less what I was looking for. I decided I might as well roll with it. “So long as Night’s good.”
“He can take five. I was running him hard on the basics when you arrived.” Mint walked back to the middle of the room, stretching her neck as she went. “Honestly, I’ve been wondering what you could do since Myrtail.”
I smirked. “I’ll try not to disappoint you, then.”
Mint's stance was pretty close to Guard standard, though she leaned forward a little, exuding an aura of confidence. She knew she had a bit of extra size and weight behind her and she knew how to use it. I could already tell this would be much like sparring with my mother.
I edged forward, waiting to see if she would move in. However, it seemed she was intent on allowing me the first move. So, I struck, throwing down a quick one-two with my wings, aiming to test the waters.
Parrying each strike with ease, Mint answered with her own, more powerful buffet, forcing me to sidestep. Seizing the opportunity, she came in fast, unleashing a flurry of short, low hoof strikes. While they couldn’t hit anything especially soft, they could have easily left me open to another wing assault.
Deflecting each blow, I came back at her with my alternating hoof and wing strikes. None of them were worth more than a glancing blow and then Mint’s next barrage was headed my way. After several more exchanges produced similar results, we each stepped back.
In the end, neither of us had taken any meaningful hits, though the gap in our skills were clear as day: Mint had only begun to sweat while I felt like a couple more rounds would push me to the point of being unable to muster a counterattack.
“Hey, that’s a pretty good defense you’ve got there.” Mint grinned. “But if you’re going to put so much energy into it, you’ll need a more decisive offense. What do you think Night? Any outside observations?”
As we both turned to Night, he seemed a bit lost in thought, eyes focused squarely on me. After a moment, he started. “Oh, I, um, don’t know. It was hard to tell.”
Mint sighed. “Spring might have been right about one thing. Distraction is definitely an issue.”
It was my turn to grin. “Or maybe we can put that focus to use. Coming at you, Night!”
“Ahhhh.” Mint stretched as she stepped out into the afternoon sun. She cracked her wings, something I’d only previously seen as part of Dash’s showboating. “Y’know, excitement is great and all, but sometimes it’s just nice to do ordinary things.”
Coming out of the Seapony at this time of day felt very strange, despite the fact that it was also an inn that I had personally utilized. I thought back to my return from Filly and why I hadn’t made such an observation then. I supposed such a concern was pretty trivial compared to everything that had happened prior. Maybe that’s what it felt like to be one of the drunks who stumbled upstairs to pass out in the room before finally stumbling back out midday. Minus the drug withdrawal—or maybe not.
Shaking myself out of my reverie, I followed Mint out onto the street and quirked an eyebrow. “Criminal investigation is ordinary?”
“A lot of ponies back at the barracks would say so.” She winked as she flashed me a grin. “Besides, no knives or thugs seems pretty ordinary to me.”
I kept walking, leading the way toward Night’s house—and our base of operations. “I think Birch might qualify as a thug.”
“Yeah, but not that kind of thug.” Mint squinted down the road, as though sizing up an invisible Birch. “He hasn’t taken a swing at anypony yet.”
“Yet,” I said, almost more out of reflex than anything. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was a legitimate concern.
Mint stopped and turned to me. “What, you think he might?”
“Can’t say for sure. I mean, he’s more of the slimy, weasley type, but he did break into Mahogany’s apartment in a fit of rage. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Hah, I’d like to see him try to start something in the courthouse.” She swung her forehoof at the air. “He’d have Guard all over him faster than a Canterlot noble on the latest trend.”
I laughed. “That would be pretty good. We have to get that far first, though.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” she said. “That Barkeep guy gave us a pretty long list.”
It was true. When I’d inquired with Barkeep, I hadn’t expected him to rattle off the names of what must have been enough people to fill half the bar that night. And yet, these were typical bar patrons we were talking about. “Yeah. Still, I think we may run into a few memory or coherence issues.”
Mint smirked. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with back in Cloudsdale. Besides, isn’t this your turf?”
“Well, yes. I do recognize most of the names, but I can’t say I know more than a few particularly well. Most of those are from the weather team, but they’re also notorious lushes. Getting anyone to accept their testimony might be difficult.”
“That is a problem.” She gave me a nod and a look that told me she completely understood. “But, speaking from experience, you might have to sift through ninety-nine duds, but the hundredth will have their story straight.”
“Here’s hoping, then.” I had to admit that was a pretty good argument, even if it didn’t guarantee anything. The good thing was that we weren’t in a huge rush, so taking a couple nights to cover the entire list wouldn’t be a problem.
Mint glanced at me again. “What about Mahogany?”
“We’ve got a few mutual acquaintances on the list. Otherwise, I’m really not sure if he knows anyone else. It’s probably easiest if we just show him before we head out tonight.”
---
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I hadn’t expected to feel so on edge tonight, but perhaps that’s just an inevitability of having dealings in the back room. The stallion, a well-groomed yellow pegasus with reddish-brown mane, named Horizon Ray, seemed unfazed—instead deciding to waggle his eyes.
“What? What’s wrong with a kiss? A heroic act deserves a heroic reward.” He grinned in a way I wager he thought was seductive.
I’m not afraid to admit that his was a rather pleasing physique, one I may have checked out a couple times in the past. Perhaps that was why, despite being well educated on things being more than they appear, I was taken extra aback. I kept my expression level, but when that failed to deter him, I glared across the table. “Heroic acts generally don’t involve trying to take advantage of a mare.”
Horizon Ray pulled back, pressing his forehooves to his chest, as though I’d just stabbed him with my wingblade—not that he knew I carried one. “That hurts, Dusky. I’m just asking for a kiss.”
I shook my head. “This isn’t my first night at the bar, Horizon Ray. I know what people expect to follow a kiss. You know I’m spoken for.”
“Whatever. I’m out of here.” He, rather forcefully, shoved his chair back and trotted for the door. He didn’t so much as turn around, yet still made a point of stopping, hoof still on the door handle, to spit out, “Enjoy your dumb little investigation.”
As the door closed, I rubbed my hooves against my temples and sighed. The whole conversation had been looking so good before then, especially since Horizon Ray was the last person on my share of the list. I sorely hoped Mint and Mahogany had had better luck with their interviews.
There was a light triple rap at the door. I looked up in time to see Mint enter. Concern filled her face. “Hey, uh, you doing okay?”
As Mahogany filed in behind her, I sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just learned some very uncomfortable truths about one of my coworkers, that’s all.”
Mint raised an eyebrow. “Should I ask?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure it’s probably something you’ve come across at least once on duty. I think he knew something, but he wanted ‘favours’.”
“Dirty bastard.” Mahogany muttered. “I bet my dad paid him off to get in the way.”
“Let’s not get paranoid here.” I shook my head. “I mean, it’s possible, but that’s not really the vibe I was getting. This guy just seemed like more of an opportunist.”
Mint nodded. “Besides, when somepony gets paid off, they’re generally paid to be quiet and pretend they don’t know anything. This pony sounds like he was clearly giving away that something was going on.”
“Still,” Mahogany grumbled. “It’s his fault Dusky had to go through that.”
I wondered where that fire had suddenly come from, to which I sadly concluded that, while he had become accustomed to his father’s antics, he was spurred into action when it caused one of us grief. “I appreciate the thought, Mahogany, but I’m fine, really. Let’s concentrate on bringing him down.”
“Did you have any luck with anypony else?” Mint asked.
“Unfortunately, no.” I shook my head. “Several others remembered enough fragments that it might have been useful if their imagination hadn’t taken over. I don’t know if it was the drink or they were simply not all there, but one was convinced Birch was a rhinoceros. Another said she knew he was bad news because she was part of a secret organization called S.T.Y.L.E. that had been opposing him for years because his furniture design is terrible. And a third insisted that Birch had threatened to unleash thirty trained attack Ursas if Mahogany didn’t give in.”
Mahogany snickered. “Wouldn’t be surprised if S.T.Y.L.E.’s the real deal. Some of his stuff is butt ugly.”
“I’m glad it’s at least worth some entertainment value.” I met his smirk.
“The rhinoceros story seems to be going around, but looks like you got all the other funny stuff.” Mint gave me a sympathetic look, nonetheless. “I got a lot of ponies who couldn’t remember key details. Half the ponies I talked to couldn’t give me a proper description of Birch and then half of them gave me blank stares when I brought out the photo. Misplaced timeframe is another one. Some uncertainty is a given, but getting anypony to even settle on an hour was tough. For a town full of ponies who live next to the Everfree, they sure are absent-minded.”
I gave Mint a sheepish look. “Truth be told, most ponies would prefer to pretend it doesn’t exist and go on their way. Only a small subset of the weather crew has to deal with it on a daily basis.”
“Hey, don’t forget me,” Mahogany grumbled. “Anytime I have to do deliveries out that way, I have to skirt the edge of the Everfree to make good time.”
Mint blinked. “I hope there’s good hazard pay for that.”
“Okaaaay, we might be looking at another case after this one.” Mint shook her head. “Anyway, none of this is really good on its own. Luckily, we have Barkeep, but I’d really like us to have more than one witness. With a stronger baseline, we can start including a few of the least-unsure ponies.”
“I’ve got one.” Mahogany’s face contorted a little. “I think.”
“You think? What’s the catch?” I asked.
“It’s Lily.” Mahogany sighed.
“Lily Valley, right?” Mint tilted her head. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She has…” I tried to think of a way of putting it that wasn’t especially unflattering, as Lily was probably one of the most harmless people in Ponyville. “...a reputation for overreacting. I’m a little surprised that someone like her would come to the bar, but given how high strung she is, I suppose I could see her going for a drink or three.”
“Oh, is that it?” Grinning wide, Mint leaned forward. “Then we just use a little technique I like to call good cop, good cop.”
“Er, what?” I asked.
“Isn’t it good cop, bad cop?” Mahogany scratched his head. “‘Cause I think that’ll just make things worse.”
“No, no.” Mint waved her hooves. “Good cop, good cop works just like it, but it skips the bad part, since the interviewee already feels uncomfortable. We just have extra ponies to work extra hard at reassuring them. We butter ‘em up until they’re comfortable with their story, then they won’t seem so hysterical on the stand.”
“That’s… a really weird way of putting it.” With a giggle, I glanced between Mint and Mahogany. “But the logic makes sense. I think we should try it.”
I’d never done so much paperwork in my life. While I certainly didn’t have the most bureaucratic position on the weather team, the very nature of cloudwork meant I dealt with some pretty hefty documentation. However, as interesting as the learning process was, filing a legal complaint was on its own level of exhausting. I supposed that part of it probably had to do with the fact that this normally isn’t the kind of thing handled by us civilians, but still. Despite her training, even Mint had had some issues sorting things out. Mahogany and Night seemed to have fared the best, able to wade through the forms quite readily, even if they constantly had to ask Mint about some term or process or another.
The end result was one big, fat, beautiful mess of a file folder. If it hadn’t already been going into a sizable, sturdy box, I’d have insisted we bind it to keep the pages from escaping before they reached Noble.
With nothing left to do but wait, I turned my attention back to other things—and realized over a week had gone by without me dealing with Terra’s wedding stuff. I knew Terra understood the gravity of the situation well enough to forgive me, but I still felt awful for essentially dumping the whole of both our duties onto Tower Tracer. A few days of frantic correspondence later, he had brought me up to date, even adding, Don’t worry about it. I’d have done the same for Stalwart.
In the end, it seemed I wasn’t the only one who felt guilty. And so we found ourselves in the bar, toasting to Mahogany’s first strike back against his father, with a bunch of pamphlets and about a dozen pages of notes spread across the table. There was probably only about three pages’ worth of data, but the wedding appeared to have made Terra incapable of recording information in any way resembling organized.
I creased my brow. “Okay, so let me see if I have this straight: Bay Breeze has the Sapphire Lagoon and Crystal Reef available. The Lagoon’s hall can only hold fifty, but the veranda is sizable enough for another fifty and faces the beach. The Reef’s hall holds all of one hundred and is three-quarters the price of the Lagoon, with a balcony that also holds fifty, but only the thinner south side gives a decent view of the beach and it’s distant.”
“Yeah.” Terra nodded. “I wish we could afford the Tsunami Sandbar. Then we wouldn’t have to decide.”
Not cringing was a bit of a task. It was their main hall, their selling point, the best of their facilities. Technically, it was available for Terra’s wedding date. It was also triple the price of the Lagoon. Not that it wasn’t warranted—its capacity was also roughly triple and was practically on the beach, with a great view from the hall itself.
“It would be nice, but we don’t need it. Sapphire Lagoon has a view that’s pretty much just as nice.”
“I don’t know… you really think we can we fit everything in?” Terra’s eyes flitted down to the papers.
“Of course.” I gave her my most reassuring grin. “We’ll just need to make ample use of the balcony. Between Tower Tracer and I, I’m sure we can come up with a good layout. We might just need to make a trip down to verify, since I don’t like to rely on photos.”
“Mmm.” She seemed convinced at first, but with each passing second, she looked worried again, eventually settling her chin on her forehooves. “But what about the weather? The outdoors will be useless if it rains.”
I placed a wing on Terra’s shoulder. “Well, Bay Breeze employs a private weather control team, so I don’t think that should be a problem.”
Her eyes slowly turned toward me. “But what about that rogue weather stuff you guys are always talking about?”
Mahogany sighed from behind his fifth Buzzard. “Willya calm down? Orlov’s notta place witha crazy forest. ‘Sides, if their pegasi are slackin’, we can always send Flurry up. Right, buddy?”
“Y-yeah.” Night shrunk a little under the spotlight. “Um, but I don’t think I’ll have to do that. Mahogany’s right. Rogue weather happens more in the wild when there aren’t pegasi around to keep it in check. The Everfree is one of those weird exceptions that sends it out.”
“You’re sure?” Terra’s gaze turned to Night.
“Yeah. I, um, I’ll still keep an eye out if it makes you feel better.” He mustered a reassuring smile of his own.
“Sorry, Flurry. I’da volunteered, but…” Mahogany shook his head. “...y’know, schquare clouds an’ all that.”
“Right. Square clouds.” Night let out a little chuckle.
It was at that moment that I realized Mint was watching Night, grinning ear to ear. How long she’d been doing it, I couldn’t say, but it reminded me of the way his sisters had looked at him after the supper in Cloudsdale.
As he turned to take a sip of tea, Night also noticed her gaze. “Um, Mint, is something wrong?”
She shook her head. “No, nothing wrong. I’m just admiring how much my little brother has grown up.”
Colour filled Night’s face. “I, um, thanks?”
“Sorry,” Mint giggled. “Probably not the best time for that, huh?”
“I do not see what the problem is,” Star said, a small smirk forming on her lips. “I am quite familiar with such feelings and do not believe there is anything to be ashamed of on either side.”
“Oh, shush. We’re twins.” Merri stuck out her tongue.
“Somepony had to come out first.” Star tilted her head.
“That’s only fifteen minutes!” Merri waved her forehooves, but it was so overdramatic that she had to be playing along.
Widening her smirk, Star shrugged. “Really? The way you act, somepony might think it was several years.”
Merri held a neutral expression for all of five seconds before she burst out into laughter. “Look at you, making jokes. I think Equestria is rubbing off on you.”
“I joked before.” Star frowned. “It was not a foreign concept to me.”
“Mmmhmmm.” Merri leaned back in her seat.
“Ma-ho-gany!” All eyes turned turned to the door, where Birch stood, his large, brown frame highlighted in the moonlight like a villain out of a comic book.
Mahogany sighed. “Dint I tellya to goway?”
Birch didn’t seem to hear, nor did he seem to notice the rest of us, marching up to the table and leaning across it. Disgust practically dripped off his muzzle. “You think you can get away with manufacturing some trumped-up accusations?”
“Trumped-up?!” Mahogany matched his indignance. “You grabbed me! You broke’nto mapartment! Yer a psycho!”
“You’re clearly not in your right mind, son. I’m just a concerned father, here to save you from yourself. Now, stop making up lies to discredit me and get your ass on that train.” Birch thrust a wing at the door. “Then we’re going to see a friend of mine about getting your head put on properly.”
As Birch started to move around the table, Mahogany was already on his hooves, digging in. No one could blame him. Birch’s antics were beginning to feel quite patternistic. I was already standing, wondering when—or if—I should step in. Though they’d yet to move, Star and Merri were sharing purposeful glances and Mint’s eyes were firmly fixed on Birch.
“No! You ain’t even said nothin’ to convince me since last time!” Mahogany lowered his head, his wide stance only a few hoof scuffs away from a possible charge.
Don’t do it, Mahogany. He’s just baiting you. Had I actually believed he was going to rush in, I would have said it aloud. However, I suspected he was bluffing and as the seconds passed where neither stallion did anything more than stare, I became more and more certain.
“Convince you?” Birch snorted, then made a show of sniffing at the air and wrinkling his muzzle. “You smell that? That’s the stink of entitlement. I am your father, Mahogany. I know what’s best for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mahogany matched Birch’s snort. “How many Father of the Year ‘wards ya won for chasin’ yer son around tellin’ ‘im he’s a screw-up?!”
“Truth hurts, son. Sometimes a foal’s got to be taught a lesson.”
“In case you ‘aven’t noticed, I’ma grown up, no thanks to you!”
Birch let out an exasperated, parental sigh, letting it draw on for a few seconds too long. “Yes, perhaps I should have had more of a hoof in your upbringing. Perhaps if your mother hadn’t coddled you far too much, you wouldn’t have grown up to be such a little shit.”
“You… Yer right.” Mahogany stepped forward, though his tone was far from defeated.
“Of course I am, I’m your f—”
Then, faster than I thought Mahogany was even capable of, he was in Birch’s face.
“This place does stink like ‘titlement.” Mahogany contorted with rage as he thrust a hoof at Birch’s chest, stopping just shy of touching him. “Ya come in here, treating me like shit, then you can’t even admit yer wrong. Ya gotta shit on Mom. Birch, the only foal here is you!”
“You ungrateful—”
“Shut! Just… Shut up!” Mahogany drew in several deep breaths as he seethed. “I’m going home. Ta my home. An’ I don’t want to see you ‘round here again.”
“You—”
“Get the hell outta my town, Birch!” And with that, Mahogany strode past Birch, shoving the doors so hard that I thought they might come off the hinges.
“M-Mahogany!” The blur that was Night called out as he followed.
I felt a smile creep up my lips. There’s no way that could have been easy, but he’d done it. Yet, somehow, I didn’t think Birch would take it lying down. Luckily, he was still dumbstruck, staring out the slowly closing doors. I seized the opportunity to edge toward them.
At last, Birch recovered. “You… You little shit! How dare you take that tone with me! You get your ungrateful ass back here!”
He strode toward the door, but found me in the way. I cocked my head. “He said no. You should respect that.”
“Who the hell are you and what makes you think you can question my Celestia-given right?!” He looked down his muzzle hard.
“Celestia-given right? Are you serious?” I met his stare. “Mahogany is his own person. He’s free to make his own choices, choose his own friends. Friends, who, I might add, he is happy with, because we treat him like a real person—not some puppet for you to have complete control over.”
“Oh, I see. You’re one of those terrible influences. Get out of my way. It’s because of your screw-ups that I have to clean up this mess. Get the hell out of my way!” He took a few steps forward, but I held my ground.
“You can spout hot air all you like, but the only terrible influence here is you. Everyone can see it and the only one you’re fooling is yourself. I’m not going to let your delusions hurt my friend.”
“I’ve had enough mouthing off from you, whore bitch! Move or I’ll move you.” Birch’s stance shifted as he advanced again. It was clearly that of someone who had been in a few scraps before—something that made me suspect even further that his high-and-mightiness was just bluster, hiding behaviour that was likely far worse than anything he’d accused Mahogany of. Despite that, he was coming in wide and hard—something that would only catch someone who didn’t know what they were doing.
I ducked as late as I dared, letting his momentum carry him forward. As he stumbled, he twisted awkwardly, trying to bring his other hoof around as his first touched the floor. Too bad for him, my forehoof was already there, stopping the strike before it could even start. I leaned right in and tossed my head as hard as I could.
While the bar had been rather quiet during the whole exchange, the following crack sent them into a dead silence. Birch let out a pained gurgle as he stumbled back.
I cocked my head again, waiting until I had his eyes. “I wouldn’t try that again.”
“Bitch!” He raised a hoof, ready to charge straight at me, this time likely to press his weight advantage, but he stopped.
A green wing rested on his withers. Mint stared straight down at Birch. “I’d listen to her if I were you.”
“And who the hell are you?! Another one of those bitches corrupting my son?!” He twisted, shoving her wing away, only to find her other wing on him.
“Last chance. Stand down.” Mint’s eyes were perhaps a little too enthusiastic, just daring him to make a move. And move he did.
I could only suspect he was bringing his hoof up for a strike, as he barely got it halfway before Mint spun, her other wing sweeping out his far forehoof. His knees hit the floor hard and I could see the pain fill his face as he barely stopped it from meeting the boards. Mint finished her rotation, winding up and planting a hefty buck into his flank that sent him tumbling.
He came to a stop on his left side and when he looked up, we were all standing over him: I, above his head, Star and Merri to his sides and Mint straight ahead. Despite Mint being right there, his gaze fell over the rest of us before reaching her.
“Me?” Mint shrugged. “I’m just the officer who’s going to take you for a nice walk down to the station.”
The early morning train was one of two times that anything went out to Orlov. I guess that’s what happens when the destination is a relatively distant, small town—and even then, we probably only had more than one because of Canterlot’s proximity. Granted, the second wasn’t exactly a great option, since I wasn’t keen on taking an overnight train. It wasn’t even something I gave much consideration to with the big cities, never mind a fledgling route like this.
Without so much as a cloud in the sky, the sun beat down on me, baking my worries on the platform like an omelet. Turned out they wouldn’t spoil, though, as the trademark magenta engine of the Equestrian Rail rolled in, bringing a rainbow of cars in its wake. Finding Tower Tracer took some effort—a byproduct of my preference for the rear. By the time I found him halfway up the frontmost car, the train had already departed.
This brought me to the next potential problem: I still didn’t know Tower Tracer that well. Sure, we’d chatted plenty about the wedding, but that didn’t help too much with small talk. And it would be just the two of us, as things were coming down to the wire. As such, I’d convinced Terra that we needed to split up. Tower Tracer and I would check the hall and devise a floor plan, while Terra, Night and Aster would get the flower arrangements figured out. I felt a bit bad asking Night to be my proxy when he had little more than a short list to work from, but I couldn’t get anyone else on such short notice.
Once again, though, my worries proved to be ethereal. Even though Tower Tracer and I were both a bit unsure at the start, we soon found ourselves swapping stories.
“So the mare asked, ‘Are you sure you have one? Do you even know where it is?’ Not that I blame her.” I smirked a little as I leaned back in my seat. “Terra’s shop always looks about two steps removed from having been hit by a runaway tornado. Anyway, without skipping a beat, Terra trotted over to a bin full of old kite parts, shoving it aside with her magic. Underneath was a sturdy cardboard box, which she opened to reveal several smaller boxes. She grabbed the topmost one and sure enough, it had the exact gear for their stopwatch.”
Tower Tracer laughed. “Must have been quite the sight. The more I hear, the more I’m convinced that this is exactly what he needed.”
“Oh?” I tilted my head.
“Yep. I mean, he’s good at the office stuff, but I’ve always gotten the impression it’s never fully clicked with him. Sure, the place gets pretty busy and there’s all the uncertainty of dealing with the vendors and their delivery crews, but there’s a certain regimented feel that’s more my thing than his. It’s why I’ve always preferred architecting. Stalwart, he… well, I don’t know if he’s ever really realized it, but he’s always been about the hooves-on, organized chaos. Working on site, keeping track of several teams and what materials they’re using, getting in on the construction himself—there’s just this look he used to get, like a foal in a candy store, that I never see in the office. He and Skylight both, actually. I suppose that’s why they were always such a great pair.”
I almost skipped the question, given the subject matter, but if Stalwart Stone was getting remarried, I had to guess some discussion would be on the table. I had to chew on the words for a bit to get it to come out with satisfactory tact. “Skylight being his deceased wife?”
Tower Tracer nodded. “Skylight Shine was her name. Went to the same school and everything. And they almost missed each other.”
“Isn’t there better odds of that than not? Get a big enough school and most of the student body won’t even know each other—even within the same specialization.”
“True, but,” he said, holding up a hoof, “they happened to meet in the first week of the first year.”
“Studies too busy, then?”
“Yes and no. Things were pretty intense, yes, but not so much that there wasn’t any time for socializing. Well, for the average student, anyway. Y’see, Stalwart was a bit of an overachiever by necessity. His family wasn’t exactly poor, but going to school still cost most of their savings and more. He wasn’t about to let them down.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “Well, now I think I know where a certain someone got that tendency from.”
“Hah, you don’t know the half of it. When Aster was even littler, before the accident, she was still so serious. We used to joke that sometimes she was more Stalwart than Stalwart.”
“Perhaps that was for the best. It seems to have at least helped her cope, even if it ends up feeding back into the situation a bit.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Tower Tracer gave a solemn nod. “Anyway, they clicked well, perhaps too well. Stalwart decided he needed to keep his distance. This only lasted a couple years, until the more advanced classes forced them together for group work. Slowly, but surely, he loosened up. The rest is history.”
“A bittersweet story in hindsight.”
“I’m just glad he’s been able to move on. When he first started out at the office, after work, he used to go out to the sites of the projects he was assigned and just stare for a while. I didn’t really know what to think of it and when I asked, he just said it was nothing.”
“I know how that can be.” I frowned a little. “Admittedly, I’ve been on both ends of that.”
“I think most of us have, it’s just…” He stared at the back of the seat in front of us. “With things like that, it gets so deep that you wonder if they’ll make it back on their own.”
Mahogany’s face flashed through my mind. “Yeah, it can get bad. But, sometimes a little faith and support goes a long way.”
---
Sapphire Lagoon’s hall reminded me of the kind of ritzy beach house a Canterlot noble might buy, but miniaturized. Even from the outside, I could tell that the space was going to be about as limited as we’d thought. On the other hoof, the balcony seemed quite a bit larger than the photos led me to believe. I wasn’t quite sure if that was because I was standing at the bottom of a story of stairs or the photos were oddly unflattering. There was only one way to find out.
I had to keep my eyes to the left, but there was clear thought in the placement of the stairs. While the very nature of the stairs meant that the view wasn’t the best, it was a dramatic build up, a teasing glimpse of what the ocean might be once we reach the top. And quite the impressive view it was, with the sun highlighting each and every wave in that vast blue expanse. Best I could tell, any place on the balcony could see it, though the amount of beach visible varied greatly.
Pausing for a good minute, I drank in the sight, trying to picture how it might look throughout the day—especially during the evening. “I don’t think this is going to need much selling. What do you think?”
“I’d like to see how this would look with an extra story or two beneath us,” Tower Tracer put a hoof to his chin. “But, I agree. This looks pretty nice as is.”
“I guess we should at least give the Reef a onceover, but unless we find a major deal breaker inside the Lagoon, this is going to be pretty hard to top.” I glanced back at the mock beach cabin. “How long until the appointment?”
He produced a pocketwatch from his saddlebags. “Two minutes.”
“Hmmm, just enough time for a little planning, then.” I trotted over to the corner furthest from both the stairs and the hall. “I think the stage should go here.”
“Ah, yes, I see. Anypony coming up the stairs or out of the hall will have a clear view of the current events. There will also be plenty of room off to the side of the stairs for ponies to loiter and watch without obstructing those newcomers.” Tower Tracer paced the deck, moving to each location in turn as he considered them.
“Right,” I said. “It’ll also let us utilize the view for both the visual and framing the stage without washing out all the photos.”
“I like how you think.” He shot me a grin.
“Well, now, are you sure you two even need a tour?” A voice pulled our eyes back to the stairs. A middle-aged, lemon-yellow earth pony was watching us, amusement playing over her blue eyes as she peered out from beneath her seaweed-green mane.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tower Tracer said. “We can’t decide without having done our due diligence.”
The mare nodded, extending her hoof. “And you must be Dusky Down and Tower Tracer. A pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” I shook her hoof.
“So, shall we have a look inside, then?” Citrus Twist moreso stated than asked. She trotted over to the double doors and deftly unlocked them.
While the exterior was a sort of sky blue, the interior walls quite aggressively tried to live up to the hall’s name. The doors, trim and floor were such a pure white that I almost might have guessed that it was repainted yesterday. However, this was a party hall that saw frequent use. As I gave the floor another scan, I suspected that it was more likely that someone had paid for a very expensive enchantment. The pair of windows facing out onto the deck, with their equally white trim on both sides of the panes, only served to confirm my suspicions.
We already knew the layout from the photos, but just standing here made me realize how cramped this space was. At this point, I had to assume it was intentional, as the balcony would be completely wasted if everyone just stayed inside.
“As you can see, the hall is still rather sizable and can easily host a small party. For a wedding, you will almost certainly need to be outside, but with our weather guaranteed to suit your needs, you can rest assured that there will be no problems.”
“How many pegasi will be on staff with this rental?” Tower Tracer asked.
“Two. If you do not think that sufficient, for a fee, we can add more as needed.” Citrus Twisted leaned in. “But, just between you and me, in the last ten years of service, none of our halls have had a weather problem.”
I trotted to the back, where the bar-kitchenette sat. Another white door sat behind it—presumably staff access.
“Liquor and bartender are not included in the rental. However, if you cannot provide your own, we will be happy to provide the service for a fee.” She motioned broadly. “Of course, this is not the extent of our food services. Our catering will use our own, extensive kitchen, with our rear walkways allowing for quick delivery.”
Making a mental note to push Terra to make a decision on the liquor, I turned to Citrus Twist. “And what about Terra’s special request?”
“Ah, yes, the special carrot dish, right? Our chefs are among the best. This should be no issue for them. Please understand that this constitutes a custom order, however.”
I nodded. “I’ll make sure she’s aware, though I doubt it’ll be a problem.”
It wasn’t until now that I really noticed Tower Tracer circling the room. He rejoined as after he finished his current circuit. “The wall makes this a little strange, but between the windows and leaving the doors open, I think there shouldn’t be any issue having tables in here. We’ll have to have the plates brought out, which means there’s no chance of a buffet service, but I think we can gets all the tables at just the right angle so that nopony will miss anything.”
Stepping back a little, I squinted at the doors and windows. “Hmmm, I’m not sure I see it quite as readily as you, but I’m sure an hour with a floor plan should solve that.”
Tower Tracer laughed. “Well, then I guess we know what we’re doing once we’re done here.”
Citrus Twist tilted her head. “Then, is that a decision?”
“Not officially.” I shook my head. “But this has been informative enough that I think Terra and Stalwart Stone should have the paperwork out within a day of our return.”
“And since they’re kind of our bosses on this matter,” Tower Tracer said. “We’ll want to at least give the Reef a looksee.”
“Of course. Of course.” Citrus Twist smiled. “Right this way, then.”
“Hey, Terra!” I knocked on the door to her makeshift dressing room. Bay Breeze had been kind enough to provide a few side rooms at a hefty discount for those of us in the wedding party to use as necessary. “I have to go get ready soon, but your parents said they’ll be here in a few minutes.”
No answer.
“Terra?” I eased the door open, poking my muzzle in just enough to get a good look.
At the far end of the room, Terra sat on her haunches, staring across a fold-up table, lost in the portable make-up mirror. She was only half-dressed, which was perhaps a good thing—the shimmering white fabric, with its breezy blue tinge, flowed out over the floor. I cringed a little. Sure, the staff had cleaned quite thoroughly before giving us the room, but we’d been in and out all morning and part of the evening. The chances of her dress having swept up a noticeable amount of dust and dirt approached one-hundred percent.
I pushed my way in slowly, quietly closing the door behind me. I spoke as softly as I could while still being audible, “Terra? You okay?”
She whirled, eyes wide as she stared right through me. “Did we get the decorations right? Are the flowers still fresh? Did we remember the cake? Are we sure we’re sure we’re sure the officiant confirmed?! Oh, Celestia, Dusky! Is this what it’s like to be you?!”
Giving her as sympathetic a smile as I could, I trotted over and wrapped a wing around her. “A bit less frantic.”
“How do you do it?” Terra shook her head.
“Practice, I guess.” In hiding it. If I had been perfectly honest, the past few days hadn’t left me much less frazzled. With every hiccup in each major detail, I fretted that I would be giving Terra the biggest let-down of her life. At the end of each day, when I had just a moment to breathe, it was especially funny to think about, really. I’d been in so many life and death situations, and yet this had left me feeling nearly as frantic. Which isn’t to say that the wedding wasn’t important, but… well, it’s pretty hard for anything else to compare to being nearly disintegrated by an angry ancient dragon.
I tried to smile wider. “Prioritizing what’s worth second guessing, that kind of thing. I’m not going to tell you not to worry, because I know you will. But, Tower Tracer and I have got everything lined up. And we’re going to keep doing everything in our power to make sure this day is as perfect as possible. Trust us.”
“Of course I trust you.” Terra sighed. “I’m just so… nervous.”
“Anyone would be. It’s some of your biggest decisions ever and there are no do-overs. Even a second ceremony wouldn’t be the same.” I pulled her into a tight hug. “But, if you stay so high strung, you’ll pass out before you see just how well it’s going to go, so, Terra, trust us—and more importantly, trust yourself.”
Terra took a deep breath. “Right. Hey, Dusky?”
“Hmmm?”
“You ever thought about psychology?”
“Well, I’ve been called crazy, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” I grinned.
She met me with a mock frown. “That’s not what I mean.”
“I know. I never gave it much thought, but I don’t think I could do it. Giving strangers advice is a whole different game from helping my friends.” I stepped back. “Speaking of which, shall we get you into your dress?”
“I thought you had to go?” Terra tilted her head.
“It’s your wedding. I don’t think anyone would object to pushing things a couple minutes because I was helping you.”
“Well, in that case…”
---
The wedding itself was something of a breather—at face value, perhaps one of the strangest statements I’ve ever made. However, it made sense. We’d poured so much time and effort into planning, and now that things were in motion, that part of my brain was left idling. Unless something went seriously wrong, I had a chance to relax. Of course, the longer things went perfectly, the more I pondered when and where things might deviate.
Perhaps the worst was waiting at the bottom of the Lagoon’s stairs, as it was impossible to see much of anything from down there. Right from the moment the officiant, a pale grey unicorn named Aspen Scroll, went up, I expected her to come scurrying back down, proclaiming some crisis or another.
I found myself sweating a bit as the grandparents proceeded. There are few people from who it would be worse to be informed that the ceremony just ended up in the toilet. Fortunately, I would be going up before them, so at least I’d be able to do some damage control. Here, I was still at the mercy of my nerves.
The situation with the wedding party was a tad odd. With Night and Mahogany having given up the opportunity to be bridestallions, that left Terra with only Star and Merri. On the other side of things, Stalwart Stone had brought three of his construction buddies: Jack Post, Even Caulking and Airy Plenum. Since Terra wanted to pair us all off, this presented a bit of an issue.
However, it was resolved with astonishing speed as while the rest of us had been busy trying to brainstorm solutions, Merri had simply grinned and said, “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take Caulking and Plenum. I can handle two at once~.”
Even though Star, Terra and I rolled our eyes at her, while the stallions stood dumbstruck, it did allow for a neat-and-tidy two-three-two formation. Ultimately, Terra decided to go with it.
As Star and Jack Post prepared to head up, Star glanced back at Merri. “Remember, this is an Equestrian wedding. Try to keep ahold of yourself.”
“You already told me that at rehearsal, Sis’,” Merri said, sticking out her tongue.
“Exactly,” Star replied. And with that, she started up the stairs.
“Hey!” Merri’s face formed into an exaggerated pout, but received no acknowledgement from neither the swaying aquamarine dress, nor coattail-wreathed burgundy butt. One of those had Merri’s eye up until its disappearance.
I shook my head. “Just listen to your sister.”
“Hey, it’s not like our weddings get that crazy anymore. We’ll be fiiiiiine~.” Merri grinned widely. “Now, come on, you big lugs. Let’s go look all regal and sexy-like~.”
Even Caulking and Airy Plenum glanced at me, but I waved them forward. “Just go, before Merri gets any funny ideas.”
In truth, I did trust Merri to have restraint—or at least more than ancient Ostfriesens. My mind drifted back to post-rehearsal.
“Ostfriesen weddings have a reputation for rowdiness, almost to the point of bad luck,” Star had said.
I’d raised an eyebrow, even though I figured the former might have been a given for a warrior culture. “Dare I ask?”
“It is… well, tradition carried forward from the olden days. Back then, the conditions had everypony rather tightly wound, so when they had a chance to indulge, there could be…” Star bit her lip. “...rather messy incidents. These days, the bad luck is little more than an irrelevant remnant. Back then, it was a living reminder, cautioning against overindulgence.”
If nothing else, the atmosphere and people were probably too different for Merri to cause trouble, but this was something I really didn’t want to be thinking about at the moment.
“Well?” Tower Tracer’s voice brought me back to reality. “I think it’s about our time.”
I pushed any lingering thoughts aside and smiled. “Yeah. I guess it wouldn’t do for me to berate Merri, then be the one to hold up the wedding, huh?”
Tower Tracer turned to Aster and the gembearer, a little sky blue pegasus named Tailskid, and grinned. “See you up top, kiddos.”
Aster gave him a level smile, but Tailskid was practically bouncing. He was even younger than Aster—young enough that I don’t think he understood the importance of his uncle’s wedding so much as he was just excited to be doing something important.
As we ascended the stairs, I could really feel the weight of the dress tugging on my flanks. Which isn’t to say that it was particularly encumbering—this was the most expensive dress I’d ever owned by a wide margin and as such, each of its silky, aquamarine layers was perfectly tailored to my form. No, it was more that I just wasn’t used to something so full. Everything else I owned was lighter, better for movement. Here, I was reasonably sure the sash alone used about as much cloth as half of any other dress.
At the top, a gentle breeze washed over me, taking any worry with it. The decorations were just as we left it. The band was present on the left of the stage and playing their low, yet upbeat, tune. Among the rows and rows of chairs were each of Terra’s and Stalwart Stone’s family and friends, with smiles all around. Among them, I caught a glimpse of Night and Mahogany—the former giving me his trademark dopey look and the latter with a smile bigger than any I’d seen since before his dad showed up in Ponyville.
Glancing into the hall as we passed, I could see the dressing curtain we’d set up in front of the kitchenette was still intact, shadows moving around behind it. The curtain was one of the first things Tower Tracer and I considered after we sat down to plan the ceremony. Given the condition of Stalwart Stone’s back, there was little sense in making him climb the stairs more times than necessary.
With Tower Tracer and I taking our positions at the head of our sides of the wedding party, I turned my eyes to the hall. The biggest problem with multiple starting points was that someone was liable to miss a cue.
After about ten seconds, I glanced at Tower Tracer. Should we send someone to check?
My thoughts were cut short by the steady clomp of dress shoes on wood. Stalwart Stone emerged, head held high, the dark tan of his coat standing out firmly against the black of his tuxedo. I can’t say I’ve ever really been a fan of suits or tuxedos—their differences are often subtle to the point of barely existing. I’ve always felt that if someone is already going to be wearing something that greatly restricts movement, they might as well cut loose. Still, Stalwart Stone did manage to make his tux look pretty good, despite the back brace.
He was flanked by an elderly yellow stallion, who looked to be on the verge of tears, and a bright orange mare, who was more concerned about how Stalwart Stone was walking than where they were going. I regretted not having more time to chat with his parents, but we’d just barely gotten everything together as it was. The going was slow, but Stalwart Stone eventually found himself at the side of the officiant, while his parents broke off to take their seats.
Next, Tailskid crested the stairs, having upgraded from practically bouncing to actually bouncing. I cringed a little, just picturing the cushion on his back—pendants and all—flying off over the railing. That’s just what we needed: the wedding party digging around through the sand in their dresses and suits, trying to find a couple needles in a haystack. Thankfully, he seemed to remember the rehearsal about halfway down the aisle and downgraded his skipping to a canter. Granted, I do suspect that the stern look of his mother peeking over top of the crowd had something to do with it.
Aster looked very uncomfortable in her dress, an unfortunate fact that we just didn’t have enough rehearsals to help her overcome. Given her position on everything regarding money, I couldn’t really blame her. Still, she tried to compensate by throwing her petals with extra enthusiasm—perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm, if the closer guests had anything to say about it.
Once the two foals were in place, I turned and waved at the band. As the music changed, all eyes were on the stairs.
The gap had me tense. I knew I’d left Terra okay, but that was so long ago. I had to tell myself that her parents were with her—she didn’t need me to babysit her. I lost my sense of time. I thought we were approaching the boundary of what could be called reasonable, but I couldn’t be certain.
Terra appeared and my train of thought abruptly hit a wall. My best friend, at her finest and most radiant, walked the aisle at the rehearsed speed, yet her posture made it clear that it was not nearly fast enough for her. As she advanced, shimmering blue flowed down her dress where the sun met the folds in the fabric. I felt the sappiness welling up in my eyes, but fought them back, merely leaving my eyes a bit watery—this was Terra’s wedding, so she had dibs.
She was guided by her father, a cerulean unicorn with a poker face to rival my own and her mother, a somewhat larger, deep red unicorn. As with Stalwart Stone, they parted ways at the stairs, leaving the remainder of the distance to Terra alone. She and I exchanged a brief smile, but there was only one person who really had her attention.
Terra and Stalwart Stone shared dovey eyes as the music died away. In that silence, we were frozen in time. There was no words, no movement. And yet, this was the real moment where I felt I could relax. Everything had gone well and from here on, we had some time where the plan would be locked in.
The officiant began, her words some of the sweetest I’d heard all day, “Dearly beloved…”
The rest of the ceremony went about as close to plan as I could have hoped. There was a moment where it almost seemed like Tailskid’s enthusiasm would get the best of him again, but at least the pendants would be much easier to recover from the stage floor than the beach.
And while I was certain my anxiety would eventually be back in force, the love and joy radiating from Terra and Stalwart during that single kiss, that was confirmation enough that Tower Tracer and I had done our jobs well enough to reassure me for the rest of the day.
Sure enough, as we filed down onto the beach for photos, my mind was going over the remaining schedule. Two hours combined for photos and the wedding party to disperse. Everyone other than Terra and Stalwart would need to change and come back here. When Tower Tracer and I had looked at the budget, we came to the conclusion that using a single venue and paying the hotel for a bit of help from the staff to repurpose it would be more efficient than renting two. This allowed us to meet the costs for the custom dinner and decorations without dipping into the slush fund. In the end, had we been more stingy, just our seven sets of hooves would have been enough.
With my dress back on, I found a moment to breathe as the guests started filtering in again. In somewhere between five and ten minutes, I’d be fretting about the food and making sure the hotel staff are on the ball. For the moment, though, I got to watch Terra and Stalwart greet people as they came through.
To be frank, the wedding was a fair bit larger than I would have initially expected. Terra was an only child and Stalwart had just one sister, and while all their parents and grandparents were still alive, breaking one-hundred attendees was still impressive. Seemed it was mostly the fault of Terra’s parents and their trade relationships. I had to wonder if I’d see a similar situation.
Once everyone was seated, I found myself at the back door, constantly peeking out onto the hotel catwalk. Thankfully, they were right on time, alleviating some of my worry. The cart they brought was clearly not enough. However, they’d been kind enough to warn us of their procedure ahead of time. Each cart was transported in waves by pairs of staff, allowing the food to be quickly distributed while it was still fresh. Once the second cart was unloading, I allowed myself to return to the head table.
---
As the supper came to an end, I found myself thinking more and more about the speeches. Tower Tracer was going first, but that did little, if anything, to make me feel less nervous. More than anything else I’d done, this had to be perfect. This was the culmination of the writer’s curse that had followed me the last couple weeks: late nights of fretting and editing with no feeling of tangible progress, almost as though I was going in circles. Even as I listened to Tower Tracer, I had to slap my mental hoof to stop myself from making more revisions.
“Construction. Building from scratch. This has always been Stalwart’s calling—so much so, that when his very passion collapsed on him, he took it as a challenge. From a deficit, he reconstructed his life, his career and his love. Terrabona is much the same way and, like the various alloys, the two of them together are stronger than ever. It will be my honour to watch this couple as they one-hundred-and-ten percent their way through life.” With that, Tower Tracer held up his glass.
Once the stomping of hooves died down, I made my way over to the stage, trading places with Tower Tracer. As I stepping up to the podium, a little nagging feeling wormed its way forward from the back of my mind. I slapped my mental hoof again and took a deep breath. “I’ve known Terra a long time and the big thing she’s always been about is matching. Just look at her store: it’s a whole business built around bringing people together with the things they need—even if it’s one of the more obscure things around. She’s even tried it with people. And while she can sometimes seem a little pushy, it’s only because she has a big heart.” I paused to smirk at Terra, who replied with something of a cross between a sheepish and amused grin. “I’ve wondered many a time, when she was going to find a match for herself, for that big heart of hers. Well, today, we can say, with certainty, that that was the day she met Stalwart. Congratulations, you two.”
---
Tower Tracer returned to the podium as Terra’s parents departed, his eyes fixed right on Terra and Stalwart. “That concludes our speeches, which means it’s time for a slow dance. Get on up there, you two!”
They exchanged wide grins before proceeding, their pace barely dampened by Stalwart’s back brace. The music chosen pushed the limits of “slow dance”, with the beat being unusually jaunty. They’d wanted something on the energetic side, but, between Stalwart’s brace and Terra’s oversized dress, there was a hard limit to what we could do. In the end, this was about the best compromise.
I did have to admit, as the centerpiece of their reception, there was just something about the chemistry of a slightly slicker, smoother romantic dance that just worked. All eyes, even that of the foals, were on them until the song came to a close.
“Wow. What a dance! Try not to burn up the floor before the rest of us get out there.” Tower Tracer chuckled. “Speaking of which, the dance floor is now open. Please join the parents of both Terra and Stalwart in celebrating their new union!”
The parents giving up their right to an exclusive dance might have seemed strange to some people, but it was a clear strategic move. For the shyest in the crowd, an open dance floor with few people on it is a scary thing. But, between the parents and the more enthusiastic of the ceremony-goers, there might just be enough to coax the shy ones forward.
For my part, I headed straight for Night. I gave him a bit of a curtsey and smiled. “Care for a dance?”
“I thought you’d never ask, Dusky,” he said, that same clear enthusiasm from before washing over his face. “Some ponies need to show this wedding how it’s done.”
I raised an eyebrow and giggled a little. It was always fun to see him get like this. “Oh?”
When he nodded, I led the way out to the floor. I let Night have the lead to start. He was so eager—and besides, while my dress wasn’t nearly as cumbersome as Terra’s, the non-aerodynamic layers flapping this way and that around my flank took some getting used to. About halfway, he started deferring to me, which was no problem now that I had a feel for the dress. The grin on his face grew as the upbeat song continued, and never left as face as the music finished.
He laughed as we moved on to the next song and I met his with a giggle of my own. This one was a little slower, though not exactly a slow dance. Nonetheless, we gravitated a bit closer.
“See? We’ve got this.” He laughed again.
“It’s not exactly a competition.”
“But if it were, we could win it all.” His grin turned a little devious.
“Maybe.” I playfully rolled my eyes. “I’m just glad you’re having a good time.”
Night nodded. “I... I love weddings. So full of love and laughter and, um, cake. Went to a few as a colt. Sun’s and Mint’s.”
“They’re very nice.” My mind flashed back over the last month and some change. “Though, with the amount of work that went into planning it all, I should hope so.”
Night nudged me, then glanced over at the head table. Terra laughed as she nuzzled up against Stalwart’s neck. With a grin to match my own, Night said, “I’d say you succeeded for the pony whom it matters the most to.”
I nodded, speaking to Night as much as myself, “Definitely a success.”
I don’t know if he noticed my introspection or he was simply being Night, but he nuzzled up against me, smiling almost sheepishly. “The ceremony was beautiful. And you look stunning in the dress.”
Glancing back at my flank, I said, “It’s a little bit much for my tastes.”
He craned his head, getting a good look. “Maybe. Then, I think maybe it’s just you who’s stunning.”
It was my turn to blush, and give in to the urge to steal a peck on his cheek. I followed up with a smirk. “Flatterer.”
His reply was a big, sappy grin.
As the next song began, with an overly hyper tempo, I eyed my dress again. “I don’t think I can keep up with that in this dress. Let’s sit out a few.”
We returned to Night’s table, settling down to lean against each other as we watched the others trying to bust a move: some more successfully than others.
Merri swaggered away from the head table, becoming a bit of a spectacle as she dragged Even Caulking and Airy Plenum behind her. Even Caulking seemed a bit less than eager, shaking his head before slipping out and backing away. Airy Plenum grinned, perfectly fine with the turn of events. However, Merri apparently didn’t think he was enthusiastic enough, grabbing him with her magic as he fell a few steps behind.
Night stared blankly. “I, um, hope she goes easy on them.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” I let out a giggle.
“Not sure she’s who I’m worried about.” His eyes lingered on them.
As I settled, my mind started to turn again. There wasn’t a whole lot left to tonight’s plan. Cleaning up was going to be a big job, though something pretty simple overall. After that, we’d just have to ship anything Terra and Stalwart wanted to save back to Ponyville. From there, well, I guess my summer trip would begin—which brought a couple new worries. I glanced at Night. “Are you sure you’re comfortable coming along on my trip?”
He nodded. “I’ve got everything you recommended all packed up back home. Once I can pick it all up, I’ll be all set.”
“Ahem,” Star said, stepping into view on my left. “How long will the two of you be gone?”
“Just about a month.” I looked up at her, pondering my second worry.
“Not too long, then. Good. I hope you both enjoy your journey. We shall miss you both.” Star smiled a little sadly.
“I’m counting on you and Merri to watch over things. To look after everyone.” My eyes drifted toward Terra and Stalwart.
Star followed my gaze. “We will keep an eye on things. Don't let that worry you.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine. And if you need it, you know how to reach my sister, right? My dad?” Night let out a bit of a sigh. I wished he didn’t have to worry.
“We shall reach out to your family only if necessary.” Star gave us a confident smile. “But I agree with Night Flurry, everything will be fine. You just enjoy your trip.”
A whistle pulled everyone’s attention to the head table. As the music faded away, Tower Tracer called out, “Will every single mare please take the dance floor. Our lovely bride, Mrs. Terrabona, will now be throwing the bouquet. Good luck, ladies!”
I smiled a little as I rose from my seat. I could think more about the trip later. “I suppose I should go give it a try.”
Colour filled Night’s face. “I, err, oh? You… you want to try to catch the bouquet?”
I let out a giggle. “I don’t see why not. Coming, Star?”
Star glanced out at the floor, where Merri appeared to have picked a patch of floor, standing over it like a soccer goalie. “I believe I shall pass. It is best if I do not compete with my sister over these types of things.”
“Suit yourself,” I said before trotting out to the floor, right next to Merri. “Getting a little serious, aren’t you?”
“And you aren’t?” Merri laughed. “Or is Night getting red in the face just a coincidence~?”
“Well, he might be reading a bit into this.” I smirked.
At that, Merri turned, stared straight at Night and waggled her eyebrows. He shrunk down a little. I felt bad, but I also had to suppress a laugh of my own.
“Everypony ready?” Terra called, the bouquet floating above her. When everyone let out a cheer, she spun, making less of a traditional lob and more of a javelin throw. And it was heading straight for me. Reflexively, I slipped to the side, raising a wing, catching the bouquet underneath it.
I raised an eyebrow at Terra, who merely smirked back. Shaking my head, I let out a bit of a sigh. However, it was her wedding. If she felt the need to indulge her matchmaking urges, I supposed I could overlook it.
Almost in unison, Terra’s and my gazes turned to Night, who was getting redder by the moment. The look in his eyes was rather apologetic. All I could do was give him a bit of a nod, though: I was next up on the podium—perhaps we could embarrass someone else, though I suspected that, without Terra doing the tossing, the garter would involve far less shenanigans.
“What?!” I covered my mouth with my hooves just a bit too late. Reflexively, I gave the rest of the Record Club a onceover, vaguely noting that there was almost no one else around—my mind was somewhere else.
“I can’t guarantee somepony else won’t take advantage of the power vacuum. Actually, I can almost guarantee somepony will try, but the Cartel as it was, is done.” Lockbox’s repeated words still didn’t sound any more real than the first time.
Taking a moment to settle my mind, to temper the elation with reason, I let out a short sigh. “This is too good to be true. How reliable is this information? How can we be sure she isn’t faking her death?”
“As cautious as always.” Lockbox let out a rare, low chuckle. “I had the same doubts as you, so I pressed my sources harder than usual. The Guard has positively IDed Summer Leaf, Iron Log and Violet Canopy on the Cartel side. Jade Coven and Frame Knitter on the Mob side.
I shook my head, even though Lockbox couldn’t see me. “What prompted this? I mean, I know their fighting was escalating, but this seems a little soon for a leadership bloodbath.”
“Word is the Cartel was trying to do something big. Nopony knows what, but the Mob obviously found the intel alarming enough to act. Whatever the case, there’s definitely some truth to the matter, as the Cartel’s headquarters suffered heavy explosive damage. I can’t get a clear estimate from anypony, but it was enough that the remaining leadership packed up and moved.”
“Interesting. Perhaps a little worrying.” I didn’t want to keep pestering Lockbox, but there was just some part of my mind that couldn’t let it go. “I… is your Guard source absolutely certain?”
Thankfully, his voice didn’t contain any annoyance. “I received word from both the first Guard on the scene, as well as the coroner. There’s no mistaking it.”
I let myself breathe a bit. “This is… definitely much more than I could have ever expected. Still, I can’t rest just yet.”
“Smokey Mirror?”
“You stole the words right out of my mouth.”
Lockbox hmmmed a little. “He’s more a mercenary than anything else. If the paycheck isn’t there, he’s probably gone. And without Summer Leaf to ensure that, I’m not so certain the remaining leaders will pick up the tab. Keep an eye out, of course, but in light of recent events, I suspect they have a much bigger grudge to settle.”
“That makes sense.” I leaned back in my seat. “Thanks, Lockbox.”
“Of course. I treat my customers well.” He let the silence linger for a bit. “So, what now?”
“Well, the world isn’t about to stop because of this. I’m sure I’ll have more than a few other things to buy from you in the future.” I smiled to myself. “But for the moment, I guess I’ll try to enjoy myself.”
---
As I navigated the darkened streets of Canterlot, I couldn’t help but fight myself. There was the unease—something was up, it had to be up. Nothing was ever so simple and easy. And yet, Lockbox had said the bodies were confirmed. That knowledge alone had me striding faster and more boldly. I’d resolved to loosen up, yet here I was, not on the fence, but straddling both sides at once.
I needed some time to collect myself, to determine just what would and wouldn’t change. For that, I’d probably need the rest of the night. I felt bad. There was so much to see up here and I was about to tell Night I just wanted to stay in the hotel room.
A neon sign caught my eye. Joe’s Doughnut Shop.
I paused and looked up. The name seemed familiar. Then it hit me: Twilight had recommended it. Smirking a little, I pushed the door open. If we were going to be staying in, might as well make it as enjoyable as possible. And what better way to start then a bag full of junk food?
The place was a little bizarre, not unlike my mixed feelings. The walls, windows and door all had that fancy, flared, Saddle Arabian influence. And yet, the floor was checkered in such a way that reminded me of a roadside diner. This was only furthered by the stools and tables following a similar theme. I had to wonder if Joe had simply replaced a fancier place that went out of business without bothering to renovate or if this was deliberately appealing to a very specific crowd.
Said crowd would be a scattering of people, mostly unicorns, hunched over textbooks, coffee on their left and stack of doughnuts on their right. I wondered what the deal was. I’m not usually in the know with what’s going on during the school year, but it seemed to me like the semester should have already been finished up.
“Can I help you?” a tan unicorn asked from behind the counter. He smiled a surprisingly white smile, which, oddly, served to offset the not-quite-white of his greasy baker’s jacket.
“Yes, I’ll get a half-dozen doughnuts to go. Two honey-glazed, two chocolate with sprinkles and… two of whatever your special is.”
“Coming right up.” The doughnuts marched themselves off the shelves and into the waiting bag. “That’ll be four bits.”
“Great, thanks.” I slid the bits across the counter, though my mind was already back on Lockbox’s information. Articulating my concern over allegedly good news to Night was definitely going to be interesting.
“Dusky?”
I whirled and was met with a face that made me grin. “Oh, hi, Ruby!”
“Are you okay?” She arched a brow. “Usually, I don’t even need to get your attention.”
“Oh, I was just a little lost in thought, I guess.”
“Is it serious?” Concern spread over Ruby’s face.
“No, no. It’s good. I think. It’s just something that needs me to sort it out. I’ll tell you more when I stop by tomorrow. We’re still good for that, right?”
“Oh, yes, the tour for your boyfriend,” she said, her lips returning to her trademark smile. “Yes, we’re still on. Of course, that means I might have to duck out on you now. Got an analysis that needs to be ready in the morning.”
It was my turn to smirk. “Another late-night researching binge, huh?”
“You know it.” Ruby turned to Doughnut Joe. “I’ll get the usual latte. Double cream this time.”
“The usual?" I tilted my head. "I didn’t know you did coffee houses.”
Ruby shrugged. “I’ve got to get my fuel from somewhere and Joe’s is in a convenient location with convenient hours. I don’t really stay in, but many of my students use this place to study.”
“I figured that might be what’s going on. What would they be studying for this time of year, though?”
“Oh, nothing in particular. We’ve just got some students with a chronic learning addiction.” Ruby grinned across her latte.
I met her smile with a smirk. “Makes sense. I might know a person or two like that. Anyway, I guess I’d better let you go. See you tomorrow.”
---
The hotel I’d gotten was rather budget—well, budget by Canterlot standards, anyway. While it was on a relatively quiet side street, the exterior was still as showy as that of the shops along the main drag. Such was the bare minimum if they wanted any customers at all.
The interior was a bit less pristine, but there was obvious care put into even the hallways. They were decorated by the kind of pictures and table stands that were fancy enough to call attention themselves, yet were still firmly in common mass production. Admittedly, they still did their jobs as they caught my eye yet another time despite my preoccupation. Or perhaps it was that I was finding little ways to procrastinate, unsure of what I’d do when I reached my door.
But there it was, almost as though it were only five feet away from Doughnut Joe’s exit. The whole thing was funny, really: good news, yet the subject itself carried such a dark cloud with it. Shaking my head, I put on a smile as I pushed the door open.
Night looked up from the desk at the back side of the room. He shifted side to side, though, despite the contents of his saddlebag scattered all over the hotel desk, it didn’t feel like the kind of nervous that came from forgetting something important. I wondered if perhaps it was the gravity of a long trip finally hitting him. Sure, we’d had the Badlands, but everything had been so frantic then, with no time to think, that it would be easy to gloss over any of the more creeping, minute worries. I know with my first solo trip out of Ponyville, those very first steps out of the city limits were among the hardest things I’d ever done.
Regardless, the Cartel conversation would have to wait a bit.
“I’m back,” I said.
“W-welcome back, Dusky. You, um, find what you were looking for?” He smiled through his uncertainty.
Definitely not the right time. I held out the bag of doughnuts. “Yeah. Plus a couple extra goodies.”
Night squinted at the bag, tilting his head a little. “A… bag? What’s that”
“Doughnuts.” I grinned.
He looked a little confused at first, though that didn’t take long to evolve into curious anticipation. “Sounds good, then!”
I unpacked the bag, only realizing then that I hadn’t even paid attention to what Joe’s special had been. They were a solid circle, with a generous helping of chocolate on top, a telltale sign that there was cream on the inside. “I hope you like honey-glaze. If not, I got some chocolate sprinkles and… Boulonnais Creams.”
Night leaned his head against mine as he surveyed the goodies. “I… I’ve never tried a honey-glaze donut before.”
“Really?” I lifted one of the honey-glazes out of the bag and started nibbling on it. “Well, you’ve been missing out.”
He retrieved his own, but hesitated a moment. “I… I really have, yeah.”
From there, he dove right in and kept at it, though his pace did slow a little as he seemed to realize there was only so much doughnut. Once he was finished, without a word, he stepped forward and hugged me.
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Glad you liked it.”
“It’s not just that… I’ve just felt a little… anxious.” He stepped back. “Anxious about the trip. I’m still not sure what I was expecting, and it’s been building all morning. What am I doing? Just a feeling that… that I shouldn’t be here. And then… you bring me doughnuts.”
“I understand the anxiety. There’s a lot to think about, but you can’t let every little thing get to you.” I stole a quick nuzzle. It felt a bit hypocritical when I was still feeling unsure myself, but what I said was at least true of the basic trip.
Night sighed. What he said next seemed more to convince himself than anything, “I’m just worrying over nothing, but there’s so much I’m missing out on. It might be silly, but that includes honey-glazed donuts… and I shouldn’t get worked up when I have you to guide me.”
“I’m just happy to help. And happy to have you with me.” I flashed him a reassuring smile over my doughnut.
Settling down on the bed, he looked back at me. “You’re… you really are my best friend, Dusky. Thank you. I really do love you.”
With my doughnut done, I climbed up beside him, leaning into his mane. “I love you too, Night Light.”
He shifted slightly, leaning against me as well. “So, with your contacts met, where are we going next? Any plans for Canterlot?”
“I’ve got a few places in mind that I thought you might like to see. What would you think of an insider tour of Canterlot University?”
“There’s a lot of places I’ve never been to.” His wing settled around my shoulders, the warmth of which I could just lie under all night. “And I’ve never toured Canterlot University beside the most beautiful mare in Equestria.”
I giggled, leaning up to nudge his cheek. “You flatterer, you.”
“Just the truth, Dusky.” He gave me his sappiest grin to date.
The nudge turned into a stolen kiss. “It’s fortunate that the mare happens to have the sweetest stallion she’s ever known accompanying her, then.”
“And… my day only gets sweeter.” Colour filled his cheeks. “You… want to head out, then?”
“I’m in no hurry. We’ll be here for a few days, and I’m content to stay like this for awhile, my sweetest, most considerate coltfriend.”
“Now and forever, Dusky. I’m in no hurry at all,” he said. I kind of figured he wouldn’t mind spending more time like this, though I really did want to tell him what had swayed my decisions. But that didn’t need to happen tonight. It just didn’t feel right. I’d get to it eventually—perhaps in the morning—but for now, there was no sense ruining the moment.
The sky above the Lagoon was a sullen grey, the probability of rain bordering on certain. I sighed. Why did we even hire the hotel’s weather pegasi?
It was weird. I could have sworn the hotel was more accomodating and competent than this. I’d have to go talk to management about getting this resolved. Having the entire wedding get drenched would be simply unacceptable. But, first, I’d have to make sure things were moving forward while I was gone.
For that matter, everything was oddly quiet. I felt myself rolling my eyes as I moved up the stairs. They seemed unusually long, though that may have just been because the only sounds I could hear were the quickening tap, tap, tap of my own hooves. I knew the wedding was taxing, but the last thing we needed was for everyone to suddenly be slacking right before Terra’s and Stalwart’s big moment. By the time I cleared the top step, I’d already thought of some strong words to be had.
I blanched.
The whole area was trashed, with the decorations and seating we’d so painstakingly laid out torn from the walls and toppled, respectively. And amidst that mess lay the motionless bodies of both Terra’s and Stalwart’s parents. Standing over them were several large ponies, cloaks drawn over their faces.
At the end of the aisle, on the stage, huddled Terra, Aster and Stalwart. I followed their eyes up to the large green earth pony. While she wasn’t quite as big as White Riot, she still looked like she could toss around several average-sized ponies without breaking a sweat. Her muzzle was angled up, machete glinting as she held it high. I knew that blade. It’s what her smaller, more agile sister had come at me with so many years ago.
More reflex than thought, I reached down for my wingblade. My scarf wasn’t there. Of course it wasn’t—I couldn’t wear it with this dress.
Summer Leaf’s eyes met with mine and she grinned wickedly. I never knew, until then, that such a smug expression could carry such a burning hatred. But, as I felt her eyes and teeth cutting straight through my soul, I could only think one thing: Don’t do it.
And then, as if she could read mind my, she raised the blade a little higher. If it wasn’t poised before, it was now.
Don’t do it!
She shifted, such that the blade was centered over Aster.
Don’t do it!!!
The blade came down.
“Nooo!” I charged forward, even knowing I’d never make it. What else could I do?
My eyes snapped open. Everything was dark, even compared to the cloudy sky. I blinked, my foggy mind trying to find its way just as much as my eyes.
As I sat up, Night stirred from beneath me, mumbling out a, “Mmmm? Dusky?”
Suddenly, I remembered. The wedding was long over. We were in Canterlot, in a small hotel, snuggled together on the bed after a relaxing night of talking while staring off into the night sky. Then why did it seem so real?
I shook my head. “Sorry to wake you, Night. I just had a… dream.”
“Another nightmare?” he asked, trying to push away his own grogginess.
“Yeah.” Some part of me always felt embarrassed to mention it, if for no other reason than that I’d become so accustomed to such nightmares that they usually didn’t feel like a big deal. Usually. Tonight, though, something felt off. Typically, the panic dulled the moment I woke up, reality working to kill any fear. And yet, here I was, the rush still coursing through my veins. Fight or flight. Even as Lockbox’s information settled back into the forefront of my mind, dispersing those darker thoughts, they left an edge.
Night saw it—I don’t think there was any way he couldn’t have. Worry crossed his face. “What is it? Does it have to do with what you found out tonight?”
“Yeah, it’s… it’s weird.” I lowered my voice. “The Cartel is in shambles. Their boss was blown up, along with their headquarters. Bodies confirmed and all that. And yet… I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t over. The dream was… they crashed Terra’s wedding. Subdued everyone and I didn’t even notice until it was too late. I want to believe it so badly, to say that maybe, just maybe, I’m finally safe. But, deep in my gut, I know I’m missing something. They’re missing something. Maybe it was a body double.”
He wrapped a wing around me, pulling me close, his warmth pressing up against my cheek. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You don’t think I’m worrying over nothing?” I asked, eyes meeting his as I leaned against him.
“No, I don’t,’ he said. “I’m not really good with this stuff, but I trust your instincts. I’ll support you, no matter what you think.”
“Sweet talker.” I managed the barest of smirks.
“I mean it.” Night leaned in again. “You always help me. I want to help you, too.”
“I appreciate it. I really do. It’s just, I can’t ignore it because being blindsided would be catastrophic. And yet, heeding it, how long do I need to watch our back with extra care? Without any further information, I think we’re stuck. And unless I pay a fortune, I don’t think anyone will be scrutinizing every obscure detail. Even then, there’d be no guarantee anyone could get close enough to ground zero.”
“I… I’ll help. I can keep watch, too.” A bout of inspiration seemed to hit Night and he spoke as though he was working things out as he went, “You might need to tell me what to look for, but if I can lessen the load at all, I’ll do it.”
I pondered a moment, for the request was not as simple as it sounded. “Not everything can be taught. A lot of it is a sort of feel that needs to be adapted on the fly. The best I can do is lay some groundwork and you’ll have to figure out the rest.”
It was Night’s turn to be introspective. “Then I guess we’ll just have to do our best for each other. Besides, you, Star, Merri, you’ve already helped me with that groundwork.”
“For better or for worse.” I pressed my muzzle into his mane.
“I wouldn’t trade our time together for the world.”
“Sweet talker.”
---
I tried not to move too quickly through the purple-tinted marble halls of Canterlot University. While they had long lost much of their grandeur for me, I still recalled the awe I felt the first time. As such, I wanted to give Night some opportunity feel the same as he walked amongst the palatial columns. I stole a glance every now and then and couldn’t help but smile as he craned his neck this way or that.
Still, we couldn’t dawdle too much—I had agreed to meet Ruby in the stacks, after all. Fortunately, the shortest route only took us through three hallways, and we arrived with a couple minutes to spare.
As usual, Ruby was in her scholar’s robe and glasses, poring over one of her go-to alchemy manuals. She looked up and smiled as we entered. “Ah, good, there you are. Right on time, Dusky.”
I almost felt like the comment was being directed as much at Night as me. A little strange, but it hardly mattered. I returned the smile as I trotted up to her. “Ruby, good to see you again. This is Night Flurry, my coltfriend. Night, this is my good friend, Ruby Result.”
Night bowed his head a little. “Ruby Result, a, um, pleasure to meet you.”
“Coltfriend, eh?” Ruby walked up to Night, giving him a bit of an appraising look. “Well, he’s cute enough. Did you know your marefriend once fought off six Timberwolves all by herself?”
In that moment, I saw a side of Ruby I wasn’t quite used to: the salesmare. I found myself somewhere between flattered and exasperated. “Ruby, stop. I didn’t ‘take on’ so much as ‘ran away from at top speed’.”
“That’s not what the filly said.” She leaned in closer, half-whispering over her hoof in a way that Night would have to be deaf not to hear. “Now shush, I’m trying to help you.”
“As if Terra wasn’t bad enough, you too, Ruby? Besides, Night’s not shallow like that.” At this point, it was almost like a corny joke and, well, that was exactly her intent. This was the kind of thing that made her liked by her students, although, from the times I’d see her in action, this was pushing things a bit. Still, I decided to play along, letting out a giggle as I glanced at Night to make sure he wasn’t too uncomfortable. “She was four, and it was just a search and rescue. She might have exaggerated a bit after the fact.”
“True or not, I already know that Dusky is pretty incredible…” Night said. “I don’t really need more evidence of that.”
Ruby scrutinized him, her face dead serious for about two seconds before she broke out into a hearty chuckle. “Good. I like him, Dusky.”
Colour filled Night’s cheeks, a clear sign he was getting a little overwhelmed by Ruby’s teasing.
I supposed it was as good a time to move on as any. “Weren’t you going to give us a tour?”
“Of course I am.” The door drifted open under her magic as she trotted through, stopping to glance over her shoulder. “Well, coming?”
As we fell in line behind her, she started out by leading us along the auditorium hallways, giving cursory summaries here and there. I knew it wasn’t going to be entirely about the academics, but did have wonder if Night felt like she was trying to persuade him to enroll at first.
After a few mundane facts about the size and capacity of the auditoriums—none of which we could do more than peer through the window for, since classes appeared to be in session—we came to one of the larger back halls. It bore a lengthy wall that would otherwise be blank, or perhaps decorated with plaques, if not for the large painting that spanned it. It featured a big, round cloud table, the chairs of which were occupied by six ponies with fins and fish tails.
Night stared, which is about the same reaction I had the first time.
“This is perhaps the most controversial thing we have in the university—well, aside from from some students’ theses, anyway.” Ruby laughed as she motioned to the painting. “Donated to us by Fine Arts Alumni Caspian Coolbrush, when this painting arrived, many of the staff didn’t even know what to make of it. Half saw it as just plain ridiculous and wanted to just store it away in the university warehouse. The rest of us saw its beauty, that it represented student ponies through the seaponies, pushing for the nigh-impossible as they swim through the clouds that are their dreams, even if it could sometimes be seen as a significant gamble. Such was an inspiration that should be visible to uplift all of our students. With the whole council deadlocked, we had to ask Princess Celestia to step in. The rest is history.”
“Wow, I, um, didn’t think of it that way,” Night said, his eyes still fixed on the painting.
I giggled. “Neither did I.”
Ruby grinned. “Perhaps you two just take cloud walking too much for granted.”
“Could be.” I smirked back. “In any event, I think we might be ready to move on.”
“Right, this way, then. “ Ruby continued down the hall, motioning to a set of lab rooms. “Speaking of Princess Celestia, her School For Gifted Unicorns may steal our thunder when it comes to magic, but we still have world-class labs. For those who aren’t suited to her school’s particular regimen, or a more specialized interest in alchemy, we have facilities that can easily match theirs.”
After taking in the vast array of expensive instruments that could even be seen from the doorway, Night stole a glance at me. “Bit of an, um, sticking point?”
“You know people and rivalries. Right, Ruby?” I gave her another grin.
“It’s all in good fun,” Ruby replied. “We have a good working relationship with Celestia’s School. Can’t make a fine draught without a little pressure, right?”
And with that, we started moving again, this time headed back to the main hall, and undoubtedly in the direction of the grand library.
Sure enough, we crossed the large double doors, which were easily as tall as all three of us put together, onto a big overlook. Below was the main floor, sporting a sea of fully stocked shelves. On our left and right were stairs that led up to numerous sub-levels that held even more books and lounges with which to peruse them.
Standing right in the middle of the landing, Ruby grinned. “And this is where I first met your marefriend. One of the biggest libraries in Equestria and I found her looking for a Daring Do book.”
Night’s eyes flitted over to me. “Daring Do?”
“What? It’s a good series. Besides, Trials was almost impossible to find when it first came out, I couldn’t find a copy anywhere.”
“Come to glamorous Canterlot, and spend the week holed up in the hotel with a novel. With all the things you’ve seen and done, you’d think I could get you to read better books than Daring Do.” Ruby let out a laugh.
I stuck out my tongue. And that’s when it happened: Night fell into a fit of giggles and couldn’t get out. I raised an eyebrow. “Look what you did. You broke him.”
“Not my fault.” Ruby let out a giggle of her own. “It was just too easy.”
“B-broke? Nah, just… Sorry, Dusky, but there’s that image of you again.” Night was barely coherent between his fits of laughter.
“Image?” I arched my brow again.
“Just… you.” He stole a peck. “Reading Daring Do when you could have been out exploring. You were cute. You still are.”
I felt a bit of warmth sneaking into my cheeks. “Well, it was really popular, so they only let me check it out for a week. I had to buckle down and read it while I could. Besides, I still managed to explore Canterlot quite thoroughly, thank you very much.”
“She did. With a little bit of help.” Ruby winked. “And speaking of help, what’s next on your agenda? You’re so close to Canterlot most of the year, you don’t tend to put it on your trip itinerary.”
“I thought it’d be good to start easy this year, for a few reasons.” I smiled as I glanced at Night. “We’ll be staying in Canterlot another day or so, then flying out east to Lunar Lake.”
“Lunar Lake… I’ll have to make another trip of my own, before my old bones collapse on me.” Ruby closed her eyes a moment, recalling old memories, before turning to give me a hug.
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “Seems to me you’ve still got plenty of spunk.”
“Bah. So you say.” Ruby waved a hoof. “Come on, then—keep up.”
She started off at a quicker pace, leading the way down into the main alcove.
Night gave me a bit of a confused look. I simply smirked, motioning toward the alcove before following after Ruby.
As the tour of Canterlot University continued, I kept an eye on Night. I’d initially worried that the full package was going to go on too long. Despite Ruby’s knack for jokes and tangents, I knew there was just a point where the environment might wear thin on someone. The longer I watched him, though, the more I relaxed—Night seemed more than entertained the whole way. It probably helped that Ruby had a new story about how one professor’s bright idea for a hooves-on demonstration of gravity magic ended in more than a little property damage and an investigation. It felt a little bad to laugh at, since someone really could have gotten hurt, though perhaps that had to do with the whole situation seeming humourously tame compared to some of Twilight’s more high-profile mishaps.
Ruby’s route was quite efficient—unsurprisingly, since she’d likely honed it over hundreds of students—ending just before that old, familiar main gate. As she hugged me, it struck me how funny it was how routine this farewell had become, despite the fact that I’d never attended.
She grinned wide. “I’ll see you again when you get home, yes? I look forward to seeing what kinds of puzzles you bring back for me this time.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open for something special.” I met her smile.
Turning to Night, Ruby put on her mock intimidating face again. “And you, Night Flurry. Dusky is a rare one, but she certainly knows how to get herself into trouble. You take care of her, you hear?”
“In so much as I’m able to, I will. You can count on it.” Night lowered his head, as though to hide the colour in his cheeks from us. I couldn’t help but smirk, given he’d made a habit of blushing and yet this time somehow bugged him more than usual. I supposed that may have just been part of Ruby’s effect on people.
With Night’s promise secured, it was his turn to receive a Ruby hug. When she finished, she stepped back and grinned. “Good. You two take care. And when you get to Lunar Lake, enjoy the show.”
Ruby winked. I’d opened my mouth to stop her, but it was already too late. Not that it was that big of a deal—I wanted to keep it as much of a surprise as possible, but to be perfectly honest, that wouldn’t have extended much past arriving at Lunar Lake itself. The nightly show was their main attraction, so there would have been signs everywhere.
“The show?” Night looked at me.
I shook my head and grinned. Even with its existence spoiled, the details were still safe with me. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
As we finally departed, I urged Night to take to the air, circling the campus a couple times to give him the big picture of what we’d just toured.
---
The Canterlot Museum of Art and History was something that had almost become ordinary to me. I’d made a habit of stopping in to kill time if I was in Canterlot for other business, which, I have to confess, may have led me to taking many of its exhibits for granted. Watching him, seeing his reactions, it revitalized the exhibits in a way I hadn’t even realized I needed. Even the frontmost one—the one that essentially reiterated the history of the Hearth’s Warming play that went on every year—felt a little fresher.
Granted, it may have also helped that the old exhibit was followed up by a special display of Princess Platinum’s royal gowns. They were quite clearly overly extravagant, boasting as many jewels and as much fancy trimming as could be crammed onto them. It wasn’t really my style, given that I tended to prefer fancy in a focused way. That is, I felt like a single, special ornament would draw attention to an outfit better than dozens of gems all fighting each other for someone’s eye. Regardless, though, it was still interesting to see what was essentially the basis for all of modern Canterlot fashion.
I’d expected most of our time to be spent in the Hall of Armour and I found myself grinning wide as Night made a beeline for it. Seemed we were quite in luck as far as special exhibits went, as Canterlot was currently borrowing some Pegasus Royal Legion pieces from Cloudsdale.
Of note were several original pieces of armour, all looking more than a little banged up. I’m sure many nobles would have turned their noses up at the sight, but I appreciated the choice of preservation over restoration. What we saw here, with the imperfections, the battle scars and the wear and tear of time—that was the true face of history.
Which isn’t to say that pristine pieces wouldn’t have been nice to look at. In fact, the museum seemed to have thought of that. Included in the exhibit were several replicas of various weapons and tools. The most obvious, grand pieces were the full set of armour, created from like materials and painted up like it would have appeared before it saw its first battle, and an artist’s approximation of Flash Magnus’s shield.
I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that it wasn’t even an authentic replica, but I also couldn’t blame the artist. The shield had long been lost—a rather sore spot in Cloudsdale’s pride—leaving all descriptions to, at best, old, secondhoof accounts. Idly, I wondered if having the real deal might have helped us in Ostfriesen.
As I turned back to Night, he seemed to be entranced, his eyes boring a hole through that old armour with greater power than any arrow. I leaned in to give him a quick nudge. “Something up?”
“Oh, seeing all of this, set up like this, it just reminds me of the things I used to want.” He gave me a sappy grin. “Before I found something better.”
I giggled. “Flatterer.”
We moved on, though Night’s pace was a bit slower than before. I glanced at him, expecting him to be stealing one last look at the armour, but his eyes were fixed forward.
“So... all these places you have planned for us to visit on this trip, um, do you have a favourite?” He fidgeted a little.
It was a question I’d pondered to myself from time to time. I think in the end, that indecisiveness was probably why I kept including everything in my route. “I don’t really have a favorite. I think every place has its own charm.”
He seemed a little disappointed, but pressed on. “There’s no place that you’re more excited about visiting? Or, which is more special?”
In that moment, I realized he was not-so-sneakily trying to find out for one, or even both, of a couple occasions I could think of. Still, this did little to help me make up my mind. “Well, every place is special to me for its own reasons. Reasons unique enough that comparison is quite difficult.”
Night nodded slowly, his eyes falling on a set of Mage Meadowbrook urns. “I suppose it’s like this museum. Everything in here is important, and unique. I guess I was just wondering if there was a place that impacted you more so than others.”
“Yes and no. Everyplace I visit leaves some impression on me.” I pondered a second. “I guess you could say I included all my top picks when I planned our route, though.”
His eyes turned to the exhibits again. “Well, I’m looking forward to it, then. I want to see more, and see why every place is so special to you.”
“Sounds like plan.” I flashed him a smile before we moved on.
There was one stop I made every time I came through here and it never got old. Of course, at least half of that is my inner Daring Do fangirl speaking, but I also seriously doubt that anyone could claim the A. K. Yearling Collection to be anything less than impressive. Named as much thanks to the fact that she’d funded every expedition from which everything in the gallery had come from, I had to suspect it had cost her millions of bits.
As Night trotted up beside me, I realized I must have lost myself in the same way he’d been staring at the Royal Pegasus Legion exhibit. I smiled as I spoke, “I suppose it shouldn’t be any surprise that someone who writes about this kind of stuff would help fund real expeditions, but at the same time, I think the sheer amount she’s put into this is quite admirable. She must really love the subject matter.”
“Well, I guess it gives her more material for her books?”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Probably. I really need to loan you my copies of Daring Do. I think you'd really enjoy them.”
We moved much more quickly after that. While Night was still enthusiastic, nothing quite stuck with him the same as the Hall of Armour. Before long, we’d completed our circuit, reaching the museum exit.
I stole a glance at Night. “So, what do you want to do for supper?”
“Nothing too fancy... I’m not sure I’m all that interested in high class Canterlot portions.” He made a little bit of a face. It was always amusing to me how much the stereotype of tiny portions followed the whole of Canterlot’s eateries. I supposed it was the unfortunate fate for all those more practical restaurants to have to live in the shadow of the richer establishments. Which made sense, really, given the richer ones did have the money to advertise far and wide.
With a smirk and a giggle, I replied, “Well, this is the university district. It’s a little less fancy than all that. You in the mood for anything in particular?”
Night paused a moment, but quickly shook his head. “No. Maybe something new? There’s a lot I haven’t tried, and you’re very good at surprising me.”
“Something new, then. I think I know the perfect place.” There was a Saddle Arabian place just a couple blocks over that was a bit more of a fast food place than anything. Since it was meant to cater to the general population, I figured it’d be just the right kind of sample without overwhelming him.
Our exit was quickly detoured as Night noticed the gift shop—and began drifting toward it. “Hey, Dusky? While we’re here, I’m going to get some postcards.”
“Sure. You thinking of sending a few back home?”
He started poking at the rack, seeming to gravitate toward the exhibits we’d spent the most time on. “Yeah, it’s something I’ve been feeling a little guilty about. I mean, I just reconnected with them, and then I’m leaving again, even if just for a month.”
I smiled, glad to see him thinking so much about them. “I’m sure they’d appreciate that.”
The pile grew as he continued to pull selections from the rack. I guessed the Royal Legion armour was for his dad. And a second for Mint. There was something in there from the A. K. Yearling Collection, too. Perhaps for Spring.
As he pulled out what must have been his ninth, he turned to me. “Anypony you want to send a postcard to? Should I get one for your parents?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It reminded me of the first time I’d gotten the chance to send postcards. It was kind of funny to think about: I’d been traveling so long, yet the simple idea of getting and sharing one with someone had made me giddy. The only thing that had dampened it was that being on the road so much made it difficult to expect any kind of reply. “I should be fine. I’m sure they’d appreciate it, but they can be a little more difficult to get a postcard to when they’re on the road together.”
“Oh right, out trading.” Night paused a second, then his face lit up. “What about Ruby?”
Yep, he’s just how I was. I grinned. “She’d probably get a kick out of getting a postcard or two. But I doubt there’s anything in this museum she hasn’t seen.”
He nodded, completely undeterred. “Well, I can pick one up for her at our next stop, then. In the meantime, I’ll just get one for everypony else!”
I eyed his pile. “Are you writing to everyone in the bar? Or everyone in Ponyville? Be careful you don’t get writer’s cramp.”
At last, he seemed satisfied with his selections and tucked them under his wing as he got in line. “I’m used to doing lots of reports at work. These will just be a quick update, and an address. Easy. And I think it’ll be fun, too.”
Sneaking a quick nuzzle, I let out a giggle. “I’ll have to pick out something for dinner that’ll give you the energy to write all those postcards.”
Flying in to Lunar Lake was significantly less impressive than Canterlot. Even now, years and years after my filly self’s first impression of the town, I still thought as much. The smaller, yet still flavourful, buildings simply couldn’t keep up with the in-your-face level of Canterlot’s spires. That’s why, knowing the inner character of the city, I had us land and take the road from about one-hundred feet out.
Down here, the nondescript roofing transformed, almost as though we’d stepped through a portal to the past. The architecture was old, almost alien. The wooden structures were roughly cut, in a way that screamed, “Hastily put together.” The benches, sign posts and lamps were likewise, with the flagstone path being somewhat uneven. It was like time had never changed from almost one-thousand years ago, though that was, in fact, the trick. Everything here was deceptively modern underneath, with all the conveniences and resilience of today. All this appearance was carefully curated by those whose parents had lived here for generations, with many of the individual components likely being replaced or refurbished dozens of times.
It was an interesting approach and I appreciated the ability to essentially step into history. Yet, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was necessary, my mind drifting back to Ostfriesen. Perhaps my perspective had been skewed by being there for the first time, but they seemed to be similar, despite their differing approaches. That is, Ostfriesen was itself like a piece of history without taking particular pains to preserve things exactly as they were. Theirs was an evolution that had stuck quite heavily to its roots. That old aesthetic had been carried forward, perhaps out of respect. I couldn’t help but ponder what Lunar Lake might be like if it they’d taken that approach.
I shook off my reverie. While a fun mental exercise, there was little point in getting distracted by ‘what if?’s when there was something so beautiful right in front of us.
“Well, it, um, certainly looks old?” Night said, peering past all the tourist ponies as he took the city in. Speaking of which, I supposed that was one point that could never be satisfactorily resolved: no matter how authentic they worked to make it look, the tourists themselves—especially the ones in the flower t-shirts—dampened the effect.
I giggled. “That’s part of the experience.”
“It does feel like a really big museum.” A smile crept up his lips. “Is that why you find Lunar Lake special?”
“Kind of. But this is more of a prelude to the real show.” I flashed him a grin. “And no, I’m not telling.”
His eyes fell on one of the nearby houses. “Well, I look forward to the surprise.”
“Sorry to say you’ll have to wait a bit longer. The show isn’t until tonight. Besides, we still have to check into the hotel.”
Night grinned, colour flooding his face as he replied. “That’s fine. More time, with, um, a beautiful mare for me.”
“Flatterer.” I met his smile with a smirk.
The hotel, simply known as The Lunar Lake Inn, was an attraction all its own. Due to the city’s aversion of overly tall buildings, the hotel had found itself a special solution: two side expansions that made it perhaps the longest non-palace structure I’d ever seen. Even then, that wasn’t enough.
“Cross-grounds taxis?” Night asked, peering at the sign in front of the hotel and the moon-emblazoned coaches at the ready.
I giggled. “Tourism is big here. But, due to their authenticity rule, they can’t build up. So, they decided to build sideways, which has led to this rather unique situation.”
Flourishing a little, I motioned to the additional buildings on either side of the main hotel.
“W-wow.” Night craned his neck as he gazed down the street.
“We shouldn’t need it, though. I booked us in early enough that they should give us a room in the main building.” I started toward the door.
“Oh.” Night cast one last curious glance over the coaches before following.
Sure enough, they gave us a room in the main building on the second floor. Unfortunately, it was a room facing the street, rather than the lake, but that was to be expected. Those rooms were much more expensive and I wasn’t willing to put down the bits for that—not when I could take those bits and get us a first-rate seat at the lake proper.
Still, despite the lesser view, the room itself took pains toward authenticity. While I could tell, upon closer scrutinization, that the pictures on the wall were prints, the stylization was good enough that, at a glance, that bouquet of flowers and portrait of Chancellor Puddinghead really could pass for paintings.
The beds were also a fake imperfect wood, the kind that was staged to give that rough, old-time appearance, but a discreetly placed layer of lacquer removed the threat of splinters. The spread and pillows seemed to have no such fakeness to it, but that was something they could completely get away with without introducing health hazards.
“So, what do you think?” I asked.
“They’re really serious about this, aren’t they?” Night looked from the bed to the pictures.
“Of course. Tourism is their livelihood and quaint is what sells.”
Night glanced out the window and it was there, framed by two heavy, green curtains, that a smile crept up his lips. “They, um, need to work on their clouds, then.”
“Oh?” I followed his gaze, where a pair of pegasi were working to position a series of white clouds.
And just as surely as the smile, blush crept into his cheeks as he spoke, “Too many weather workers. They should drift freely.”
I giggled. “You can take it up with management the next time we go down.”
---
The whole idea was dumb. Walking a blindfolded pony down to the lake during the busy time of night would require more than a bit of care. But I wanted to introduce Night to it the same way I'd been—or as closely as I could, anyway. I had neither the size nor the inclination to stand over Night and block his view with my barrel and wing like my father.
I put on my best reassuring smile as I held the blindfold up. “I just want you to get the full experience. Part of that is the surprise.”
I almost wished he would have protested a bit, though I’m not entirely sure why. It certainly wouldn’t have made my idea less awkward. Pushing away the thoughts of second-guessing, I worked to secure the blindfold as comfortably as possible.
Uncertain about how this felt for Night, I pressed my nose into his mane. “You’ll have to let me guide you there.”
“Easy enough.” He smiled broadly. “You know I trust you.”
“Good. Now, just step forward and follow my lead.” I slipped a wing across his back, stepping extra slowly until he got the hang of the rhythm. I’d chosen a route that should theoretically be easy: through the open spaces of the lobby and down the wider main sidewalks of Lunar Lake, minimizing the amount of side-to-side steering I’d have to do. Still, I worried about the unexpected—particularly any kind of detour.
Thankfully, the hotel was no issue, with the few people in our path being kind enough to get out of the way, though they did give us some curious glances. As we passed the front desk, there was a moment where I swear the clerk’s expression changed to a knowing grin.
I found the situation much the same when we entered the street. While there were quite a few people milling about in the moonlight, the lack of urgency seemed to leave them more than willing to accommodate my shenanigans. There were, of course, some moving with more purpose, but predictably, they were also headed down to the lake.
As the gate came into sight, the crowd grew thicker. I pulled Night closer. “Just a little further.”
The usher gave me an amused look as she took our tickets, but otherwise didn’t comment on the blindfold as she led us down to the waterfront. The dock and its accompanying furniture carried the same raw wooden stylization as our hotel beds, though only the tables got the lacquer treatment.
Really, if it weren’t for the lake itself, the whole thing might look a little tacky. Regardless, there we were, with an old-timey table, a couple firm cushions and a dinner menu. “Okay, you can take it off now.”
I grinned, watching him take off the blindfold, blink, then fix his eyes on me. I wanted to roll my own, just a little, but instead motioned out toward the lake, where the full moon caressed it. Translucent ribbons of various colours danced up toward the sky, some trying to catch the moon, while others fell back to the earth. Either way, they dissipated, only to be replaced by yet another set.
Once upon a time, a young filly, fed up with the stuffiness of the old-timeyness of the rest of the city, opened her eyes to see this.
Night let out a laugh, pure mirth in his eyes as he gazed upon the lake. “It… it’s amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so.” The few nerves I’d felt were gone now, and I giggled as I nudged him toward the table.
He followed me, albeit slowly, his eyes taken by the siren call of the lake. “I… do. I absolutely do. I had no idea there was a place like this in Equestria. I had no idea there was a place like this anywhere!”
I motioned out to the lake and found myself instinctively tracing one of the strands as I talked. “This only happens when a full moon touches the water. No one has been able to explain why, but some of the older legends claim it was a gift from Princess Luna herself. One thing I do know is that out of all the times I’ve been here, the lights have never been the same twice.”
“Amazing… just… amazing.” He was almost too cute when he was in awe like that. I leaned in to steal a peck, but he turned to meet me. When we parted, he continued. “But it still doesn’t compare…”
“Compare to what?” I knew the answer—the past had made the pattern clear. Not that I could fully disagree, though. I’d be a fool not to recognize I had some looks going for me. However, here, beside what was quite possibly a wonder of the world, the comparison felt beyond exaggeration.
“To you.”
And there it was. “You really believe that?”
“Of course I do… you’re beautiful. Your coat, your wings, your mane… your smile. Your eyes…”
Still unsure what to make of it, I found myself shifting in my seat and an embarrassed laugh escaped my lips. “To be honest, you talk me up so much, sometimes I wonder if I’m the mare you think I am.”
Night shrunk a little. “A-am I coming across too hard? I mean… I don’t mean to embarrass you.... I mean, I used to think you were perfect… and that’s a bit too far. But… you really are beautiful… the good and the bad.”
I leaned in, pressing against his neck. “Well, that’s good. I’m not perfect. I think that you can see that is a good sign of how far we’ve come. Even if you get carried away by your romantic side.”
“Well, I’m far from perfect, too, after all. When we started dating, you… you would say things about me that I didn’t think were true. I guess it’s that same feeling… just… ‘how can she see me in that way?’”
“You didn’t put enough stock in yourself.”
“I didn’t… but I guess, it feels like you don’t put enough in yourself either. I… it may seem silly but… I’m…” Colour filled his cheeks. “I’m very attracted to you… I mean… ph-physically. You’re so beautiful.”
It was one of those pivotal moments, where Night had laid himself bare. He deserved an equally honest response. I’m not much for gushing, myself, but that’s not the only way to express sentiment. I leaned in again, wrapping my hooves around him. “I… thank you, Night. I feel the same way about you.”
As he reciprocated, I felt him release a long breath. “That’s almost too good to believe. No matter what you look like, Dusky, once I got to know you, I fell in love with you for you. And you’re so beautiful to me because I love you.”
It was always funny, no matter how many times I’d thought of it: never did I think a life full of trouble and weirdness would lead me here. “That’s more than I could hope for. I love you too, Night Light.”
There was a flash of inspiration in Night’s eyes. He reached back toward his flight satchel—the one he wasn’t wearing. His smile fell a bit.
“Everything alright?” There was only one thing that really fit and just the thought of it threw me. I’d suspected for some time, of course, but I can’t say if I would have been ready to answer.
“Yeah… yeah. Just… thinking of something else. Sorry.”
“Well, handsome, we’re missing a one-of-a-kind show, and haven’t even touched our food.” I stole a quick nuzzle, to which Night smiled sheepishly.
“I… suppose I can watch you any time, but I can never see this show again, can I?”
I glanced back at the lake, where the lights had formed something of an ethereal pinwheel. “You’ll never see another show like it.”
As we settled in against each other, there was little more a couple could ask for.
Everything ached, as though something was individually compressing each muscle in my body. The pain sat somewhere between a days-old bruise and the desperate cry of nerves under direct attack. And yet, I found the whole thing oddly comforting—it was a sign of consciousness in what was otherwise nothing by darkness.
Even my eyelids hurt, resisting me with every inch as I forced them open. At first I wasn’t sure if I’d actually been successful. Before me was little more than shapes in the shadows. Squinting, I could make out what appeared to be uneven chunks of rock.
Where am I?
With a groan, I rolled over. Opposite what was probably a wall was a lantern, grime covering all sides such that there was little danger of it blinding even my unadjusted eyes. Said lantern sat in the middle of an end table that appeared to have been assembled from half-rotted wood scraps. It was slanted so badly that I wondered when the inevitable oil fire was going to start.
As the grogginess left my mind, I had to fight off the panic attack of a dozen questions. What happened? Were we attacked? Where? How? Where’s Night?! Is everyone in Ponyville safe?
Struggling to get upright, I did come to one realization that tentatively defused some of the panic: I was not bound or gagged.
Of course, as soon as the faint crunch of hooves on dirt reached my ears, I was back to full alert mode. Should I fight? Hide? Flee?
My body decided ‘barely sit up’ was the answer.
A pale purple pegasus, followed by a blue one, more or less materialized from the darkness. I relaxed a little as they came closer, though something still didn’t feel right. “Amethyst Vein? And… Bellerophon?”
“It is good to see the recovery has not dulled your senses.” As Night’s voice carried Bellerophon’s thoughts, I felt that familiar chill slide down my spine.
“Recovery?” I raised an eyebrow, fighting past the dread holding back my next question. “How long was I out? And what even happened?”
“The dragon got ahold of you and threw you across the room.” Amethyst Vein looked away. “After the first week, we were afraid you wouldn’t make it. But, here we are, just a week after that. You really are as tough as some of my best.”
I watched Amethyst Vein carefully. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“What? Oh, it’s just some of the more complicated details. You shouldn’t worry about those until you’ve had more time to rest.” There were no giveaways in her body language, but something was still off.
“Whatever it is, tell me. If I’m still going to be here a while, I don’t want to be left with nothing but speculation.”
Bellerophon and Amethyst Vein exchanged glances before Bellerophon stepped up. “If you insist, I feel obligated to respect your wishes. Night Flurry, he is… no longer of this world. I am truly sorry.”
“What?!” A surge of strength propelled me from my cot’s rickety wooden frame. I narrowed my eyes. “That’s impossible. He’s standing right there. Release your control. Now.”
“I would if I could, but I speak the truth when I say that he is gone.”
“How?! Why?!” Those were the first of a billion questions swirling through my mind.
“My power as it was would have only saved him, so he… invoked all of it.” Bellerophon slumped. “He wanted to save everypony.”
“No… But… That…” My thoughts were practically imploding on themselves. I pushed through the debris, which was like swimming through a vat of mud. “He didn’t save everyone. He said he wouldn’t be a hero! He promised!”
The tears were coming full force now, intermingled with anger. Anger at my weakness, at Night for breaking his promise, at Bellerophon for being the catalyst of this whole disaster. As I struggled to focus, to stop myself from lunging at Bellerophon, a twinkle in the darkness caught my eye. They were like a cluster of stars, but forming something of a wave, dancing up and down. I wasn’t sure if it was because of my anger or the cavern air, but they were definitely there. With myself marginally back in control, I felt like I was suffocating, the weight of the news too much.
“Air,” I rasped. “I need fresh air.”
Amethyst Vein stared for a second, but quickly caught herself. “Of course. This way.”
She led me through several winding passages, none of which I recognized. I shrugged it off. Olymponis was a big mountain. Ascending one more ramp, the trickling of water touched my ears. Sure enough, once we reached the top, there was a spring of sorts, though it was still mostly enclosed. There was a long cut in the ceiling above, as though someone had cleaved through it with a giant blade. The stars and moon peeked through, casting an ethereal look upon the underground lake.
I took several deep breaths, finding the fresher air just enough to leave me a little calmer.
“I hope this is enough.” Amethyst Vein gave me an apologetic look. “Going to the surface at night would be dangerous.”
Walking up to the edge of the lake, I stared out at my reflection. Every hair on my body was a haggard mess. “Yeah. This is fine. Can I have a few moments?”
“Sure. If you need anything, I’ll be waiting outside.” Amethyst Vein turned and trotted out.
I tried to think back, to remember the final moments before I lost consciousness. I felt foggy, the whole of it refusing to come back. Then there was this nagging in the back of my mind. Hadn’t things been going well? Have I simply been dreaming this whole time?
How long my thoughts lingered out on the lake, I couldn’t say. But, at some point, the crunching of hooves on dirt pulled my ears behind me. Turning, I found Bellerophon waiting.
I sighed. “What is it?”
“Night Flurry, he left a message before I… before I took over.” For just a few fleeting moment, it was almost as if Night’s voice were his own again. “You deserve so much, Dusky Down. To have a good, normal life, to go where you please without fear. To see the world and all the beautiful things in it. You just… you deserve to be happy.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. “But, without him, there’s one less beautiful thing in the world. Did he even stop to consider that? Did he really think I’d be happy with him gone?”
“I am afraid I don’t have any answers for you.”
“No, of course not.”
“I am sorry.”
As I searched for my reply, the stars caught my eye again—but not the ones in the sky above. No, it was that line of stars again, highlighted by a thin, blue outline, dancing away into the darkness on the other side of the lake. Before I could open my mouth, to ask Bellerophon if he saw that, motes of pink and green leapt to life, drifting off the surface of the lake.
Huh? That’s almost like…
I turned and found myself looking at Night. We were seated behind a fake-old wooden table, every inch of its surface covered with junk food. Out in front of us, the lights of Lunar Lake streamed up toward the sky, splitting into fifths before tumbling back down to the water.
His sappy expression melted into one of concern. “Dusky?”
“Sorry.” I shook my head. “I was somewhere else, but I’m here with you now. And that’s all that matters.”
Night gave me a confused look, but seemed to accept my answer. As we leaned in against each other, though, something didn’t quite feel right. Or at all, for that matter.
I woke up.
Between the dim light of the moon and that which managed to slip under the door, I could immediately tell I was in our room at the Lunar Lake Inn. The next thing I noticed, setting my mind ablaze, was that I couldn’t feel Night’s warmth because he was gone.
Quickly throwing myself over the side of the bed, I assessed the situation. The bathroom light definitely wasn’t on. But, there also didn’t appear to be signs of a struggle. It wouldn’t have made sense, anyhow, seeing as how if they could have grabbed him without me noticing, they could have easily taken me, too.
Still, as my eyes fell on the note, conspicuously left in the middle of the desk, and the fact that the door was now unchained, my mind couldn’t help but go bad places. I rushed over to the desk as quietly as I could. Annoyance bubbled up, propelled with gusto by my rapidly beating heart.
Need some air. Please, don’t worry. I’ll be back. -Night Light
I fought to calm myself. He couldn’t have known about my nightmare. In fact, if he had, I’m certain he would have stayed instead. Still, it did boil down to him wandering off in the middle of the night.
Finding Night wasn’t difficult. Without a single cloud in the sky, unless he wanted to hover up there where everyone could see him, he’d likely seek out a roof. And what better place to start than the Lunar Lake Inn’s own large, spacious rooftop.
He was situated at the edge closest to the lake. I couldn’t help but smile a little, to see just how quickly he’d taken to the lake. While he had expressed great wonder and awe in words, those little, unconscious decisions everyone makes, can say even more.
Night let out a laugh, staring up at the moon. “I just…”
I tilted my head, briefly entertaining the thought of seeing what would come of this. But, this was obviously some sort of private ritual of his. It would be rude to eavesdrop. “Night?”
There was the distinct sound of something, probably a box, clapping shut, as he spun to face me. “I... um, Dusky... I... didn’t think I woke you.”
“Are you okay?” I didn’t expect to see him so distressed, not after tonight. Then again, I wasn’t exactly free of concern.
“I... yes? I... no. I don’t know.” He slumped.
“Don’t know?” I trotted over and nudged his chin with my wing.
His eyes returned to the moon. “I needed... I don’t know. I needed s-some time, and... someone to talk with about…”
I nudged him again until he looked my in the eye. “Talk about what, Night? Is something wrong?”
“N-nothing wrong... I just…” Night wiped his hoof at the corners of his eyes. “I-I just worry about the things that I can’t talk to you about…”
I frowned a little. While I was pretty certain I knew what he was thinking about, I felt bad that it was eating so much at him. I needed to give him a chance to get it out. “Like what?”
“Like…” Night worked his jaw.
“Night? Are you sure you’re alright?”
He let out a laugh, his decision written all over him as he looked up at me. “Dusky?”
“Yes?”
“You know, from the moment I saw you, all I wanted was to be with you. To see you smile, and hear you laugh. I just wanted to make you happy, but I wasn’t able to tell you that. It was just chance that we met in the bar that night... maybe fate, but that doesn’t matter now. It set me on a path which changed my life. I couldn’t have walked that path alone, but you were there, and for some reason, you decided to help guide me. The more I learned about you, the more I longed to be with you, and not just in the good times. I want to stand with you in the hard times, to comfort you... to be your Night Light in the darkness.”
I found myself smiling. Here it comes.
“We’ve faced darkness. Time and again, we’ve seen the worst life has to throw at us, and we’ve overcome it. We’ve grown stronger. Together, there’s nothing we can't do. I love you. And I look into your eyes, and I know I’m the luckiest stallion in Equestria, because I can see that same love returned.” Night reached into his flight satchels, coming back with what was clearly a small jewelry box. “There is nothing that I could deny you. Nothing within my power to give that you cannot have. And nothing you could ask of me that would be too great a task. There is literally nothing in this world I could give you that says how deep my love is, and so all I can offer are shadows, trinkets that pale in comparison to what we have.”
The box clicked open. Inside was a hairpin, lovingly carved into the shape of my cutie mark. A small black gem sat in the middle while the space between my gear’s teeth were filled by sapphires, forming a glistening blue ring of sorts. Night had spared neither effort, nor expense.
“Dusky. Dusky, please, will you do me the honor... the privilege, of allowing me to spend the rest of my life with you.” Even though Night had already all but said it, he hesitated a few moments, having to push the traditional question up and out. “Dusky Down, will you marry me?”
I was already ready. There was no need to think. “Yes. Yes, Night Light, I... yes!”
It was funny to think about—that a nightmare of all things, had helped me cement my decision, to fully realize how much I value Night. Wrapping my hooves around him, I pulled him into a kiss, letting the moment linger for as long as we needed to. After all, we would never get another moment like this.
Our next destination was Las Pegasus, though not because it was among my favourites. Which isn’t to say I don’t appreciate the shows and the general presentation of the city, but there’s really no denying its primary purpose: to serve as a gambling hub. Between my frugal nature and life’s lessons giving me a healthy aversion to risk, this was a half-match at best. However, it also happened to be the shortest link between Lunar Lake and Iron Shoe, with our real next stop being Crystalside. While we could technically take an even shorter route up, it would involve camping overnight for several days. Thus, I vetoed the route as readily as I did any urge to put bits down at a Las Pegasus table.
The terrain for the majority of the journey was quite hilly. Fortunately, for travelers as a whole, Las Pegasus is a very rich city and at about the quarter mark, the nice, but humble, dirt trail became expensive cobblestone. However, swanky as it was, most pegasi chose not to utilize it. The general formation of the hills required the roads to take many winding paths, extending the travel time by hours compared to flying straight there.
Still, it was also an experience I didn’t want Night to miss out on. Walking the Las Pegasus highway was like taking a more moderate version of the path up to Canterlot. That is, it provided a high, wide view of the wavy fields and colonies of trees, but was still low enough to make out some finer details. By contrast, Canterlot’s steep, mountainous paths quickly reached a point where the view had little difference from that of flying.
As such, I had us set down about three hours out from the city, where the detour would add the least amount of time, but still give a decent view. We could walk for about an hour, then take to the skies again.
“What do you think?” I asked, motioning a hoof over the side, to the sea of tall, wild grass. This was a particularly wide field, almost entirely devoid of trees. It seems they’d all fled to the bend, where a smattering of them became an unusually thick clump. Experience told me that this would continue for quite some distance, perhaps until the next bend or two. Off in the distance, far away from the hillside, was a sparkling blue mote, the barest hint of the river cutting through.
“It’s beautiful.” Night surveyed the field. “Almost as beautiful as you.”
With a smirk and a giggle, I said, “Never would have guessed you’d say that.”
He blushed a bit. “Well, it’s true.”
I pressed into his mane. “Flatterer.”
We continued along the path, taking our time to observe the thickening of the trees. The line of them skirting the hillside was consistent enough that, had there been more ground for them to grow, I was convinced that we’d have a full-blown forest here.
After about twenty minutes, I stopped dead as a rather unpleasant smell hit my nostrils. It was faint, yet distinct enough that a couple more whiffs let my mind process the source: scorched wood. I glanced at Night, who was already looking my way.
“Is something… burning?” he asked.
“Possibly. We should have a quick look. If a fire gets out of control here, this entire hillside is going to go up in smoke.” I took a step and paused. “Carefully, though. The source might not be friendly.”
Night nodded and with that, we were off, creeping up the path. After a couple minutes, the smell had grown stronger, but it was still weak enough that I felt some measure of relief. Were it an emergency-level blaze, we’d have noticed a significant change by now.
Another minute and the source of the smell still wasn’t readily apparent. However, a small shower of splinters was scattered across the highway. The trail led to the side of the road, where multiple overlapping wagon tracks led down into the treeline.
As quietly as possible, I slipped down the hill, ears twitching all the way. What was perhaps more worrying than a roaring fire or the sound of clashing steel was dead silence. Is this a ruse? Is someone lying in wait for whoever follows this trail? Or perhaps the cause was something.
Part of me wanted to pull out now, let the Las Pegasus Guard handle the rest. The other part wanted to scout a little more. If it turned out I’d left someone to bleed out in the wilderness, I’d be rather unhappy. Letting out a little sigh, I glanced back at Night and motioned forward.
The path wasn’t hard to follow at all—wide swaths of underbrush were practically flattened from where the wagons had crashed through. Carefully, gingerly, I stepped around the brush and debris. The sound of my hooves on dirt was deafening enough.
And still there were no other sounds. The longer we followed the tracks, the more I could feel it biting itself my side, like a knife, twisting as it set off all kinds of red flags. At last, the trees parted into something of a tiny clearing. As my mind processed just what was going on, I darted behind the nearest tree. Night awkwardly followed.
The first thing I noticed was how drastically the ground had been disturbed. Not only were there wagon tracks, but there were clearly imprints from hooves and where people might have fallen. Curiously, though, there were no bodies.
Next, my eyes fell on the three closed-top, wooden wagons. One was practically split in two, toppling diagonally in such a way that the particularly large tree it hit more than caved the roof in. Another was toppled on its side, taking up about half of the remaining clearing. Crates spilled out the back, with a mix of papers and what appeared to be shirts cascading out. The final wagon was upright and off to the side, but even from here, I could tell someone had forced the door.
Turning to Night, I made a circular motion with my hoof, then pointed to my side. It took a few moments, but he nodded. With that, I slunk along the perimeter of the wreckage, checking for signs of anyone else. There were more than a few hoofprints leading away at rather frequent intervals, but nothing that would indicate they had gone into hiding nearby.
Once we finished the full circuit, I stepped out into the clearing, moving toward the overturned wagon. Ducking low, I peered inside. Best I could tell, there was no one inside, though it’d be rather difficult to squeeze in with the mess of smashed crates creating a barricade. I briefly mused that someone trying to climb over that mass of spikes would likely be more painful than being in the crash itself.
Casting a look at the other wagons to make sure there was still no movement, I glanced down at the cargo that now littered the ground. The papers appeared to be pamphlets, with big, bright letters extolling the selling points of the shirts. The shirts themselves did little to live up to the advertisements. Sure, there was a variety of colours and the standard designer half-comprehensible logo, but the material didn’t seem all that special. It certainly wasn’t worth fighting over, anyhow.
I checked the crushed wagon next, circling it to make sure no one was hiding beneath. As I climbed up to look into the wagon itself, I found that climbing inside would be an even greater feat than the first wagon. Regardless, the tree had conveniently smashed open a few crates, giving me a glimpse of the shirts within.
The last wagon made me the most nervous. I’d left it for last because the open door and it being entirely upright left less places for someone to be concealed. However, given what I’d found out about the other wagons, this was the most likely to actually contain someone. While it would be easy to spot someone coming out, I didn’t want to get sloppy.
I crept up from the side, taking care to get just the right angle so I could see inside, but leaving my head exposed as little as possible. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. It was empty. The crates were stacked along the side in a way that no one could possibly hide on or behind them, so what I saw was what I got.
Slinking inside, I felt my hoof brush up against a piece of paper. Picking it up, a chill ran down my spine. It was a manifest, much like one of the documents I’d found in Filly so many years ago—though not nearly as blatant about the stock as the one from Filly.
“What’s wrong?” Night whispered.
“It’s them. This is one of their shipments,” I said.
He peered over my shoulder and tilted his head. “Shirts?”
“That’s how they’re transporting it. Like the ice in Fetlock. Look.” I pointed to the logo of the shipping company. “The pattern surrounding the letter looks pretty nonsensical in a fancy way, right? Well, see the bottom-right corner?”
“It’s a… leaf.” The gravity of Night’s words seemed to hit him.
“They need a way to communicate to their people inside, but they can’t just go announcing it any old way.”
Night frowned. “Um, okay. Right.”
“It’s a trick the Guard told me years ago,” I answered the unasked question. A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. “I suppose the Cartel's got a few things that keep coming back to haunt them, too.”
He didn’t say anything. To be fair, there wasn’t much to say to that. Instead, I felt his muzzle press up against my neck. I returned the nuzzle before proceeding to the back.
“Of course, something isn’t quite right. Whoever attacked had to have known what they were doing. The guards wouldn’t have gone down easily. They had to know there was a prize, so why is the product all untouched? There must be thousands upon thousands of bits lying out there in the dirt.”
“Maybe something scared them off?” Night suggested.
“Perhaps. But it’d have to be something really crazy to keep them away. The greedy ones would inevitably be back with this kind of money on the line.” As I continued forward, I realized one of the crates right in front of me had its lid removed. Peering inside, I could see there was a heavy, metal vault fit snugly within the frame. It was empty.
Night slipped up beside me. “Or maybe they found something more valuable?”
His voice was rather uncertain, though I could hardly blame him. It was hard to imagine something more valuable than tens of thousands of bits’ worth of drugs. Yet, here we were, a safe undeniably broken into with its contents taken, but everything else left alone.
“Maybe. But the question is wha—” It hit me like a runaway cart and I paled.
“Dusky?” Night gave me a look of deep concern.
“We need to head for Las Pegasus as quickly as possible. The Guard needs to know about this.” I turned quickly, though caught myself and took a deep breath. Night should at least know why I’m rushing off. “Rumour was that the Leaf sisters were the only two who know the refining process for the product. Without that, their whole endeavour is lost. But I seriously doubt they would want to take the knowledge entirely to the grave. No, they’d probably have something secreted away for either a descendant or apprentice. I think someone found out—and they aim to be the next leader.”
---
A quick, anonymous report to the Guard and I was done. No names, no means of further contact. I just couldn’t get any more involved. The Cartel’s shadow still loomed, yet it was falling ever farther away from me. Getting the attention of their aspiring new leader would bring that right back to me. More than ever, I wanted to avoid endangering those around me. Besides, if the Guard was quick to follow my tip, I was confident they would have all the information they needed to proceed.
Knowing that staying cooped up in the hotel, stewing in my own uncertainty, wasn’t going to do me any good, I suggested a walk down the strip. I felt bad because the level of activity here obviously wasn’t Night’s cup of tea. Of course, one could say it was the lesser of two evils, as I was pretty sure taking him out onto the casino floor would have given him an instant anxiety attack.
As a city always on the go, Las Pegasus had been among the first to adopt for their entire city what Cloudsdale was now only applying to very specific sections of their city: cloud-secured concrete. And with good reason, really—each tribe made up roughly one-third of the population, so using a material that everyone could walk on theoretically tripled their income. Of course, such an investment wasn’t without cost. CSC had been, for a long time, military grade, the kind of thing only the Guard and the Wonderbolts could afford to put into their bases—with Canterlot's backing. As such, I could definitely understand Cloudsdale’s hesitance.
Still, Las Pegasus had obviously found a way to take advantage of the situation. The mixed aesthetic provided a rather mysterious feel that no other city offered. On top of that, the concrete provided a sturdier general base, upon which they could erect towers in which every interior article didn’t need to be enchanted so as not to fall through the floor. Clouds also made a rather poor base for neon signs and this was a city where one couldn’t walk two feet without finding at least a dozen of them trying to outdo the other.
The early evening tourist rush was in full force, necessitating some rather quick maneuvering to avoid collisions. I kept one eye ahead and the other behind to ensure Night wasn’t lost to the sea of manes and tails.
Barkers of all kinds somehow found space to loiter near the doorways of their respective clubs or casinos. Many tried to beat the noise by simply waving their pamphlets around, leaving the air a flurry of gambling deals, performance times and promises of late-night adult activities. Some more ambitious ones tried to be louder than the crowd, but I suspected all that would get them would be a sore throat in the morning.
After we passed something like that tenth block-long casino, I noticed Night’s brow had furrowed to the point that I was afraid his muzzle might pop off. I leaned over and offered a reassuring smile. “We can stop to rest if you want.”
Guilt flooded his face and he hesitated. In the end, he nodded. “It’s just… so much. Maybe… just a short break.”
I led him up the path to the nearest casino, hoping to find the customary patio lounge. I was not disappointed. The benches here were thick wooden slabs, of which there were dozens of unoccupied pieces. A pegasus in golden armour battled a dragon as he watched over us from the casino’s sign. Knights of Magnus, it proclaimed.
As Night and I settled onto one of the benches, the very precise angle toward the casino’s open doors made it painfully obvious that these weren’t just here for convenience.
Night let out a long sigh, focusing inward. I could almost see the sensory overload slide off of him as he opened his eyes. “It’s just… so many ponies. All the lights, and the noise… it’s almost… oppressive. Not even Canterlot is like this.”
“I understand. This city’s so busy, it’s a rarity when someone doesn’t feel that way the first time they come here. Just take your time.” I pressed into his mane, remembering the first time I’d come here. I think I spent a good two minutes just staring, taking every detail in.
“It all feels like it should be amazing to me… but, it’s just so alien…” Guilt clouded his face again. “S-sorry. I’m still not that comfortable with big cities, or, um, crowds.”
“It’s okay, really. It’s not for everyone. You don’t need to apologize.”
Night took a deep breath, his eyes falling on the shifting wall of people. “I… alright. I… I really do want to enjoy it, if I can. And… I know I can, so long as I’m here with you. Are… you ready to continue?”
I gave him another reassuring smile. “As long as you feel up to it.”
“Yeah… yeah. I’m better now. I just needed space to breathe for a minute.”
Helping him back to his hooves, I couldn’t resist dramatically pointing a wing forward. “Let’s go.”
The enclosement of casinos gave way to another set of equally lucrative buildings: strip malls. Anyone looking for designer… well, anything, didn’t have to look far. However, it wasn’t those that caught Night’s attention.
“Quick Change’s Lightning Fast Weddings?” He tilted his head, staring up at the gaudy, neon sign that topped one of Las Pegasus’s infamous fast chapels. I was actually a little surprised he didn’t know, given that they were probably one of the defining stereotypes of the city.
I let out a giggle. “There’s more than a few ‘minute wedding’ chapels in Las Pegasus. They basically rush the whole process. You get in, you say your ‘I do’s, and you sign some papers, and that’s it.”
“And that’s it?” Night’s disappointment was palpable. “Doesn’t sound… I don’t know, romantic.”
“Las Pegasus isn’t exactly about ‘romance’. It’s more about being too impulsive.”
Night glanced behind him, at the casinos we’d just passed, and the crowds hurrying to be entertained by them. “Seems like this whole city is preying on ponies being too impulsive. Maybe that’s why I don’t like it…”
Sliding closer, I pressed my cheek against his. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d much rather wait and have a proper wedding with our friends and family there.”
“It does… I want to be married, but not impulsively… err, not anymore impulsively than I’ve already asked, that is.”
I smirked. “Well, the timing felt perfect to me.”
Night took one last look at the chapel before shaking his head like he was trying to dislodge grime from his mane. “So… is there anything we can do around here that’s, um, not impulsive?”
Looking down the strip, I spotted a few malls we hadn’t checked yet. “Maybe we can find someplace good for dinner. So long as we avoid the casinos and the buffets.”
“Well, you have impeccable tastes, so… lead the way.”
My sleep had grown more and more restless of late. The nightmares were coming in greater force, though with what we’d seen on the road, that was almost to be expected. The Cartel haunted me like a ghost that just wouldn’t move on—the prospect of its power vacuum sucking me right back in a very real threat.
I was quite relieved to leave Las Pegasus. I’d hoped the chaos and the noise would at least help distract me, but alas, no dice. In fact, I found myself constantly scanning the crowds, looking for suspicious characters who might be shadowing us. Best I could tell, there were none, but it didn’t help me feel any less on edge.
Even out in the skies, I couldn’t quite relax until about halfway to Crystalside. While our previous discovery had been decidedly unique, I wasn’t able to shake the nagging feeling we might find something else. Thankfully, that was not the case and we arrived without incident.
The town was sleepier than I remembered—not that it wasn’t sleepy before, since real archaeologists need to move at a precise pace just about anyone else would refer to as “plodding”—but I suppose that’s what happens when what was originally relatively mild tourism is on the decline.
The housing we passed was entirely practical, with the straight, wooden shells painted more for weather protection than style. The general store, as well as a couple eateries, though constructed in much the same fashion, tried harder to play to the tourism angle. Colourful signs that almost felt like they’d been lifted from Las Pegasus beckoned us towards the likes of Timber’s Odds ‘n’ Sods and Short Order’s Snack Shack.
We ignored the calls for now, headed down to the dig site.
The tour had once been popular enough to be guided by one of the archaeologists at scheduled intervals, but the maybe half-dozen other tourists milling around the first area were proof that such measures were now completely unnecessary. Instead, a series of heavy wooden signs created a trail of bread crumbs along the hardened dirt path.
As Night looked up from the closest one, I trotted over to him. “Last time I visited Crystalside, it was much busier. The dig site had unearthed a fabulous treasure, the Crystal Rainbow—which was a sculpture cut and fused in a way no one thought possible. People were coming from all across Equestria to see it.”
We followed the signs, which took us to a rather unique view. It was something of an enclosed balcony, fenced off so no one got any funny ideas. However, it overlooked—albeit from a good twenty or so feet—one of the active dig sites. For anyone excited by expert chisel and toothbrush work, this was the place to be. For other Daring Do fans who hadn’t done their research, this was likely the site of disappointment.
“They called that gem the last and most beautiful reminder of the Crystal Empire.” I couldn’t help but giggle. “Of course, when the Empire itself returned, tourism all shifted there, but I‘d already grown to love this place. It’s beautiful in its own right, and I have a lot of good memories I’ve shared here.”
Turning away from the dig site, Night fixed his eyes on a sturdy metal display case, which was largely populated by fragments of crystalline dishes. “And what about the Crystal Rainbow?”
I let out a sigh, remembering when the Crystal Rainbow had been in a somewhat fancier case like this, set front and center in the first room. Ivory and I had had to wait a good fifteen minutes before we could get to the front and see it. “It was as beautiful as they said. But they returned it to the Crystal Empire about a year ago. A lot of the original findings we saw were moved to Canterlot for study.”
Night stepped back to lean against me. “Well, it’s all pretty wonderful to me too.”
“And we haven't even gotten to the best part.” I met his nuzzle with my own.
Grinning wide, he planted a kiss on my cheek. “Pretty sure the best part is right here.”
“Flatterer.”
“Always.” Night turned back to the tunnel. “Well, then, lead the way.”
While the best part of Crystalside wasn’t part of the dig site, we continued along the trail, retracing in minutes what had taken months for the archaeologists to explore. There were a few exhibits detailing the tools used to extract some of these items, but otherwise, the tour was stuck showing off the few shiny bits of crystal pottery that hadn’t gotten whisked off to Canterlot or the Empire.
Once we were done, I took to the air, leading Night a ways out of town. I figured I’d let him see what I had in store and decide if he was up for a picnic. For the moment, though, we would just glide above the valley, side by side.
“You said you’d shared this place before? With your parents?” Night asked.
“No, with a very good friend. Her name is Ivory. She’s..." I’d given serious thought to how I’d tell Night about Ivory’s abilities, but I’d yet to come up with something that didn’t just sound off. In the end, I’d come to the conclusion that it’d probably be best if he met her and saw how great of a person she is before getting into any details. "She’s someone very important to me. We fought together, and... well, it’s harder to explain than you’d think. You’ll just have to trust me.”
Night smiled, undaunted by my hesitance. “Easy enough. I’m honored to meet anypony you trust that much, Dusky. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”
“I think she’ll be happy to hear that too.”
The trees parted as we reached the side of the valley, which was the cue for our descent. Below us was a wide, sparkling basin, fed by a waterfall that cut through the valley’s left wall approximately two-thirds of the way up.
I banked to the right, leading us down to a grassy alcove that sat opposite the waterfall. I would have liked to have brought him up the rear trail on hoof, but that would have necessitated doing the entire journey on hoof, since flying any meaningful and practical distance would have easily given the waterfall away. Given our trip plan, spending an entire day trekking through the forest just wasn’t in the cards.
“This is my favorite part of this whole valley. I found it when I was exploring. The history and the dig site and the town are all fine, but, finding things like this…” As we settled down, I motioned with a hoof, letting the scenery speak for itself.
“It’s like... Fetlock Falls…” Night stared for a good minute or so. “It’s beautiful…”
I pressed up against him. “I love coming out here and just watching and listening. Everything is just so calm and serene.”
Night closed his eyes, ears twitching in rhythm to the falling water. A smile spread across his lips. “I can see why... It’s like sitting on a cloud, listening to rainfall.”
“It’s all the better when shared with someone.” I nuzzled into his mane.
“It’s everything I could hope for, and…” Night suddenly sat upright, his eyes flitting up to the sky. “Actually, it could be more... just... stay here, Dusky. I’ll be right back.”
I tilted my head at him, though he gave me that big, sappy grin, so I simply nodded and waited to see what he’d do.
Night took off, flying high into the sky—then even higher. He wasn’t quite a speck, but as I craned my neck, it was difficult to tell what he was doing. There was lots of circling and spinning involved, so I guessed he was manually creating a cloud. I just hoped he wouldn’t give himself hypothermia, though I supposed that really shouldn’t happen after just one. As I recall, the technique largely fell into disuse because the temperatures required often ended in lots of sick pegasi. Towns and cities used to have really complicated rotating work schedules to avert such issues, though those were completely obsoleted by the advent of weather factories.
Sure enough, Night came back down with a cloud in hoof, guiding it to just in front of the waterfall. With a grin and a nod, he turned and gave it a firm shove. Slowly, lazily, it drifted toward the waterfall, giving Night just enough time to fly back and sit beside me.
When water met cloud, the cloud melted like cotton candy—if cotton candy could turn into mist, anyway. For just a few moments, the droplets caught the light in a way that spawned a plethora of tiny rainbows.
I smiled at Night. “That’s quite the show.”
“Just for you.” He glanced back at the waterfall, where the very last remnants of the mist were fading away. “It’s no Lunar Lake, but... what could ever surpass that?”
It was a sensible assessment, but that didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate his effort. “I think something else might have biased you towards Lunar Lake.”
“Maybe something incredible, yes.” He stole a peck on my cheek. “I want to do this with you forever.”
“This?” I raised an eyebrow. “As in, traveling?”
With a nod, he launched into an explanation. “I don’t think I could do this every year with you. My vacation time wasn’t going to last forever... so, I made a change.”
“What’d you do?”
He looked a little sheepish. “I took a new job before we left. I’ll be a Coordinator with Weather Bureau Regulations and Standards. Less weatherwork and more deskwork, but... it requires travel every year. So, I thought... maybe we could plan out a few stops for my job along the way, and then the rest is up to you.”
“That’s an impressive amount of planning.” I smirked. “You sure Lunar Lake was as spontaneous as you thought?”
Colour filled Night’s cheeks. “Um, well, I always planned to ask. I just didn’t know when.”
“I see.” With a giggle, I rested my head against his. “In any case, so long as you’re not stuck working all the time, I’m sure we can figure something out.”
He let out a relieved sigh. “Thanks, Dusky. I’ve seen how much this trip means to you. I want to be there with you, somepony to share it all with, always.”
Darkness—closing in, wrapping itself around me like a cloak. But, unlike a cloak, there was no safety, no warmth. The cold pressed up against me, as hard as ice and nearly as frigid. At last, my eyes snapped open, finding that beneath me, there were no sheets, no bed, no pegasus. Instead, my only companion was the cement floor, ungiving and uncaring.
I swiveled my head. The room was nearly empty, with only a few overturned wooden boxes to break up the unending cement that made up the floor, walls and even the ceiling. I furrowed my brow, trying to recall how I might have ended up in what was most likely a storage room. My mind was foggy, lost as it grasped at the nearly indistinguishable phantoms of truth and imagination.
Shaking the thoughts off, I decided to put my speculation on hold for the moment. For as mundane as this room was, everything about it put me on edge. My instincts were screaming at me, commanding me to escape. And so I stood, careful to keep such impulses in check. Even though the door was wide open, there was no need to rush headlong into anything. I needed more information. Perhaps if I was lucky, I’d even find something to quell those lingering fears.
My body wasn’t in a particularly cooperative mood, protesting as it strained against the aches of my previous accommodations, leaving me to more stumble than sneak toward the wall closest that door. Approaching it felt even worse, as no amount of squinting could penetrate the wall of light.
As I passed into the light, it clung to me, same as the darkness. And yet, there was no feeling, no warmth. It was almost ethereal in a way and had it not been blinding me, I might have assumed it wasn’t even there.
The coppery scent of blood flooded my nostrils, though I hardly needed to smell it. Red streaks stained more of the concrete floor then not, spreading up the walls in almost equal measure. I couldn’t make out the ceiling, with whatever lit the room washing out anything beyond fifteen feet. I could have flown up, had I the inclination or the time, but movement at the far end of the room squelched all other thoughts.
The wall groaned, giving way, though not from collapse, but the grinding of materials that made for poor doors as they slid past each other. A shadow emerged, almost shimmering as it passed into the light.
The large, green earth pony looked down upon me, waiting for the passage to close before speaking, “Oh, good, you’re awake. It’s no fun to beat on a helpless foe.”
“You can’t be here.” I scowled. “You’re dead.”
“Dead?” Summer Leaf’s laugh was loud, haunting, as the sizable room multiplied her one hundredfold. “You think something as pathetic as the Mob could put me down? No. That slobbering pack of mutts thought a few explosives could stop me, but it only added fuel to the fire. Now, I am more powerful than anypony could possibly imagine!”
“Is that so?” My heart was trying to move four different ways at once, but I held as steady as I could. “Why don’t you go tell that to Celestia?”
“Oh, I will, don’t worry. I just have some unfinished business to take care of first.” She flashed me a grin wicked enough that I could feel it sawing through my bones.
“You claim unlimited power and your first act is petty revenge?”
“First? Hah. Hardly. You are the side dish to my main course. You should be grateful I have more important things to do.”
“Yes, of course.” I rolled my eyes. “I sure am glad a terrible person makes it a priority to ruin other people’s lives.”
“You’re welcome. Unfortunately for you, I’m here to collect. But don’t worry. You’ll be joining your friends soon enough.” Before I could open my mouth, Summer Leaf flourished, emptying a small pouch into the air.
Little red-and-blue bits tumbled through the air, slowly making their way to the ground. It took me a moment, but there could be no mistake: they were blue feathers caked in blood.
“What did you do to them?” I growled.
“The same thing we do to anypony who tries to interfere in our business.” She shrugged. “It was nothing personal. Now, you, on the other hoof…”
Gritting my teeth, I reached by for my wingblade. I had to believe I could fight my way out of here, that I could rescue my friends. If they’d been captured because they had to come looking for me again, I couldn’t let them down.
My muzzle found emptiness—my scarf was gone.
“Looking for this?” Summer Leaf held one end in her mouth, the entire scarf dangling down to the ground. With a toss of her head, she sent the scarf flying, landing right in the middle of us. “Take it. Can’t have this ending too soon, can we?”
There was absolutely no way I could trust Summer Leaf. However, knowing I’d be at a significant disadvantage against her raw size and power without it, I clung to that small glimmer of hope that she really was that arrogant. And so I edged forward, trying to ignore the scabby grit scraping against my hooves.
Ten feet… Five… three… two… o—
Summer Leaf shot off like a Wonderbolt, streaking toward me with all the fury of a runaway train. Tumbling to the side, I barely got clear in time. It must have been my imagination, but I swore I could feel the force of her advance throw me even farther away.
Still, at that speed, there was no way for her to turn around fast enough to stop me now. Half-scrambling over myself, I darted toward my scarf. But, to my horror, Summer Leaf spun, turning on a dime without losing speed, as though she did not obey the laws of this world. It was too late for me to jump back and I knew it. Instead, I hunkered down, snatching the closest part of my scarf in my mouth.
She was already here, though I still tried to throw her over me. At best, I tripped her up, though it was hard to tell if she hadn’t merely intended to body slam me in such a way. I caught the barest glimpse of her tumbling away from me before my body became one big bruise.
I think I gasped at some point, but mostly I remember the world spinning. When it finally stopped, I forced myself to my hooves, ignoring the stitches pulling at my side. To my dismay, my scarf remained near the middle of the room.
“Come on! You’re not even trying!” Summer Leaf yelled, now engaged in a slow, mocking advance. “There’s no way this sorry display bested Autumn.”
As crazy the idea seemed, I needed to close the distance. Giving Summer Leaf room to move around and gain momentum would only let her wear me down until I was a wreck on the ground. Drawing in a deep breath, I set myself straight and charged.
I brought my wing up and across, more as a feint than anything, though Summer Leaf was only too happy to answer. Sidestepping, I narrowly avoided another slam. Two tree-crushing pillars came down where I used to be as I jumped back.
Throwing myself forward, I tossed my head as I passed by, ramming it into the soft spot beneath Summer Leaf’s ribs. My head reeled, for said soft spot felt more like hitting wood. That short lapse almost did me in as a foreleg came straight for my face. I barely got a hoof up in time, pain cutting through it as I was sent tumbling yet again.
When I came to a rest, I felt a bit of cloth beneath me. Then the realization hit me. I rolled over as quickly as I could, acquiring my blade and setting it into place.
“You think that will help you? Pathetic.” Summer Leaf’s slow, unstoppable advance had resumed.
Even with my wingblade, I felt like the tide was against me. I only had one chance. I had to get her with her guard down. If she came at me with her full power, then this was over.
I rushed forward to meet her, leading with the same wing strike as before—but this time I meant it. Rearing up, I brought my hoof down. She moved with uncanny speed, deflecting both blows, but the important one was yet to come. I brought my right wing around, seeking to sink my wingblade into her neck.
Summer Leaf fell back, the slightest, almost imperceptible stumble in her step. That was my cue.
Right hoof, left wing, left hoof. Right wing, left wing.
She pushed back, with a pair of wild swings that would have sent me flying had I not ducked and darted away. Still, it was bad. I couldn’t afford to give her space, but I also couldn’t keep this up forever.
Steeling myself, I charged in again, unleashing another barrage—the same one as before. She was ready, and I was counting on it. The blow, even glancing as it was, left me dizzy, but at the same time, I knew she had left her right open. My desperate thrust cleaved through the air, my heart falling as I found nothing where her throat should have been. Still, I had one last card: while I stumbled back, I brought my wing up in a wild, wide arc, slashing with all my might.
Pushing through the haze, I steadied myself and when my focus returned, I could see Summer Leaf coming at me, blood running down her chin. This was my last chance.
Stepping left, then darting right, I slipped around her assault, bringing my blade up and thrusting it between her ribs. Then again. And a third time. And three more. This should have been lethal to just about anyone and yet, it was as though I was striking nothing: my blade passed straight through her. “What the h—?!”
Summer Leaf’s hooves were an unending fury. I was so off-balance that I could barely block half the strikes. Everything was numb. I couldn’t recall when I hit the floor. It was slick. I couldn’t get up. Couldn’t move.
“I told you.” Summer Leaf stared down at me, completely unconcerned by the blood dripping off her chin. “My power is unimaginable.”
She brought her hoof down. My ears were ringing. And yet, amidst the ringing, something cut through, softly at first. “...okay? I’m your… Light…”
“Night?” I croaked out.
“What?” Summer Leaf’s eyes darted around. “How?”
“...with you, and… never alone.”
“Bah, play time’s over.” Her hooves raised up, right over my head. I tried to roll out of the way, but it was more of a feeble wiggle. It was too late. I closed my eyes, but the impact never came. Curiously, there was still a dull thud, as though she really had struck. I wondered if it was the numbness, but surely I wouldn’t still be thinking if my skull were crushed.
I squeezed an eye open. Summer Leaf was still above me, furiously pounding the air above my head. There was nothing there, but every blow let out a resounding thud.
“What the hell is this?!” she screeched.
“...help her.”
A glint caught my eye. Something tiny was falling just a few feet from my head. It hit the ground with a ping, coming to rest on the cement. It was a hairpin, adorned with a gemstone recreation of my cutie mark.
Everything began to fade away, Summer Leaf included.
“What? No! No!” she screamed. “You…! You won’t be so lucky next time!”
And as the world shattered around me, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tuft of dark blue hair, twinkling as it disappeared into the darkness.
My eyes snapped open, meeting Night’s eyes as he stared down at me, a look of deep concern on his face.
“Dusky? Are you okay?” he asked.
“I… I think so.” I tried to shake off the lingering images and the chill they brought with them. “It felt real. Too real. They got you. They got everyone. And I couldn’t fight back. It was like striking air, yet… it could strike me.” I reached out a wing, half to make sure he was really there, half just to have him near.
Night pressed up against me, leaning in close and I felt some of the chill fall away. “They didn’t get me. I’m here.”
“I know. I know that now. But in the moment…” I sighed. “There’s something wrong. The nightmares were never this bad—this real—before. We need to leave. Tomorrow, I mean. We need to cut Crystalside short. I need to see someone who might be able to magically analyse this and the closest person is Ivory.”
The ground seemed unsteady. In the logical part of my mind, I knew it was my legs, but sleep deprivation does funny things to one’s perspective. It probably didn’t help that we were approaching over rough, hilly terrain. I’d chosen this route, despite feeling like we could pass out any moment, because if we were caught out in this condition, things could get even worse. Granted, I couldn’t say for certain how much the animosity from my previous… incident in Pasture remained. But this was not a time to be taking chances.
Glancing over my shoulder, I could see Night was doing better, but only by a bit. He’d insisted on watching over me for at least part of my sleep. I had to admit that the nightmares felt less powerful when he did, though whether that was placebo effect or not, I couldn’t say. What I did know was the look he gave me when I told him I couldn’t possibly expect him to keep doing it.
It had been pure determination, creased by worry, as he looked me straight in the eye and replied, “And I can’t just sit by and do nothing.”
The compromise had been sleeping in shifts, which was probably just as well. I still couldn’t put my hoof on it, but whatever this was made me intensely uneasy. It was like someone was constantly watching me. Of course, if I looked around, there was never anything suspicious. That’s why, despite no real evidence, I had to guess that whatever it was was magical in nature. With that that in mind, it definitely wasn’t a bad idea to have someone on watch—even if it was a distracted watch.
Shaking my head, I returned to the present. “How are you holding up?”
“Well enough.” Night gave me a brave smile.
“The forest should be just over this hill. Once we clear them, keep your voice low. The people who usually walk these roads aren’t exactly on friendly terms with me.”
Night worked his jaw, like he had a dozen questions trying to come out at once, but quickly realized this wasn’t the best time.
“Sorry, Night.” I let out a bit of a sigh, the weight of withheld information hanging off my back. “I’ll explain more once we get to Ivory’s hut. It’s about a mile and some change into the forest.”
He simply nodded, doing his best to muster up another smile. “I trust you.”
As we crested the hill, I crouched low, skulking about the wild clusters of bushes. Sure enough, there was a group of people, gathered at the crossroads of the main road and the trail that led into the forest.
Even with the fog enveloping my mind, something felt off. The way they stood, the general unkemptness, not to mention that every one of them was on the larger side—these were not typical townsfolk. I scowled, wondering if the mayor had decided to have another go at his bandit ploy.
“What is it?” Night whispered.
I shook my head. “I can’t be certain. But the mayor does have a reputation of the… unsavoury sort.”
“This is a waste of time!” One of the stallions, a silver-maned one in a black trenchcoat, practically shouted, as he stepped away from the group and began pacing around them. “How do we even know she’s coming?”
I felt my frown deepen, concern for Ivory rising in my chest. While she could take care of herself, nothing could ever be certain. One lapse or moment of bad luck could be the greatest catastrophe.
“Because the Boss said so, duh!” Another stallion answered, his exasperation bordering on overplayed enough that I swore I heard the sigh. I couldn’t get much of a look at him, since he was near the back, but it looked like he was wearing a fedora.
The next to chime in was a mare, whose mane was held in place by a large, but tattered, bandana. “New Boss or Old Boss”
“What do you think?” Fedora snapped.
“Old Boss is dead,” Trenchcoat cut in. “Which is why listening to some hallucination is a waste of time.”
“She ain’t no hallucination.” Fedora’s voice was an odd mix of nerves and defensiveness as he glanced at the empty road behind him.
Trenchcoat stopped and planted his hooves. “Oh, I’m sorry. Listening to some dumbass dream is a waste of time. Better?”
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw it like the rest of us,” Bandana stepped up.
“I would. It is a dream. Not real.” Trenchcoat didn’t back down.
A chill slid in under my coat. There was no way. There couldn’t be.
“A dream all of us had. It’s gotta mean something,” Fedora said.
“It means you had a coincidence happen to you. Problem solved.” Trenchcoat edged forward.
The rest of the crowd murmured as Fedora pushed through to meet Trenchcoat. “Really? All of us is coincidence?”
“Yes!” Trenchcoat leaned in.
“Then why are you here?” Bandana stood beside Fedora.
“Because some fools wandered off into the wilderness because of a stupid dream. So here I am.” Trenchcoat threw his forehooves wide.
They continued to bicker, but their words were lost as I turned to my own thoughts. Dreams that seem too real… for more than just me. There has to be something more to it!
Suddenly, I was drowning, the flood from my imagination threatening to wash me away. What if Summer Leaf really didn’t die? What if what The Mob did really had made her more powerful? How much more powerful?
I fought to calm myself and tried to follow a single train of thought. She’d called herself more powerful than anyone could imagine. And when I’d suggested Celestia, she seemed undaunted. There was always the possibility that she was bluffing, and yet, what she was doing was well beyond the ability of even many exceptional people. I’d only ever heard of two people utilizing such a power: the Princesses Celestia and Luna.
What if she could match their ability? What if she could even see me from a distance? It would certainly explain why these thugs were here in this exact place at this exact moment.
I felt sick—the same way as when we’d fought Broken Tooth.
“Dusky?” Night’s concerned face helped anchor me again.
I stole a quick nuzzle. “Sorry, Night, I… there’s a lot going on here that I don’t fully understand, but I believe our enemy is somehow aware of our plans and movements.”
“I… yeah. I gathered that much.” He gave me an alarmed, yet sympathetic, look. “What do we do?”
“Hmmm. We’re already in rough shape. We can’t let this draw out. If we try to go around, they might be alerted to our plans.” I glanced out at the crowd again. They were still bickering—a prime opportunity to break though. However, as I looked more closely, there were some objects sitting on the road on the far side of them. One of which had the distinct look of a sling. I frowned. Flying would be risky if they were really prepared. At this height, we’d be easy targets.
Turning back to Night, I let out a short sigh. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think we have to do something that’s difficult to react to. We need to get as close to the road as we can, then bolt for the forest. If we can reach the edge, we should be safe—at least from those thugs. As far as whatever is watching us or how we’re being watched, I can’t say.”
“Are you sure? This really isn’t like you.” Night’s face was filled with concern again.
“I know. I’d really prefer not to, but my usual methods are compromised. I can’t stubbornly stick to them. I have to adapt. That’s why… this.” With an apologetic look, I motioned to the side of the hill that would take us down to the road.
Gingerly, I made my way down the rocky, uneven slope. The ground was unusually dry, even for the season, making everything brittle and prone to noise. Not only that, but it would provide little for cover, making getting caught out here only marginally better than trying to fly in.
The brush was thicker at the bottom, though still of somewhat questionable use. Thankfully, what I was now ninety-nine-percent certain were Cartel thugs, hadn’t stopped bickering for a single moment. I almost had to wonder if I’d given them too much credit.
I stole a quick glance at Night, then stepped out. Each tiny crunch of the dirt beneath my hooves made me cringe. There was no sense in drawing attention to ourselves, but they were going to notice any second and I needed to be ready to take off.
“You wanna be a skeptic?” Fedora shouted. “Fine! But do it over there. The rest of us have got work to do.”
“Know what? Maybe I will. Just don’t come crying to me when they lock you up in an insane asy—” Trenchcoat started to circle the group again, but as he did, he looked straight at us. It took him a moment, but a scowl quickly spread across his face. “What’re you staring at?”
The rest of the thugs locked on, their blank, tired eyes somehow exuding a hunger for blood that made my skin crawl. For a moment, I wondered if the truer zombies were in the forest or right in front of us.
“It’s her!” Fedora called out. “Kill her and we’ll be free!”
“Go! Go! Go!” I yelled as I broke off into a gallop, keeping my distance as best I could without compromising the time to reach the forest.
A stone whizzed over my flank. Then another. Several thuds echoed up from the ground as more objects rained down around us. More stones, some knives and—maybe I was just delirious, but I thought I saw a javelin pass overhead.
“Agh!” Night cried out and my head swiveled. He had just the slightest of limps, a bit of blood trickling down his flank. The realization hit me like a stone to the face: my plan had made it so everything that missed me was more likely to hit him. A cursory glance told me he’d just been grazed, but even so, I felt awful. Even worse, a few of the thugs had broken off and were quickly gaining on him.
Despite my legs threatening to give up and detach from my body, I pushed myself even harder. I reached the bushes at a speed that even surprised me. I had to take a sharp turn to slow my pace, lest I throw myself straight into the forest.
“H-help!” I gasped out. And with that, a trio of zombies arose, coming to my side. Frantically, I pointed a forehoof at Night. “Friend! Protect!”
At this point, Night just about fell over himself and I felt even worse. I should have told him. But I hadn’t expected—perhaps foolishly—for it to come to this. However, it was too late for me to be having second thoughts. Pointing to each of the approaching thugs in turn, I yelled out, “Bandits! Stop them! Keep coming, Night! They won’t hurt you!”
Confusion had clearly taken over his face, but he listened, nonetheless. The zombies lumbered past him, at which point the thugs screeched to a halt, staring wide-eyed. A stone came sailing down and struck one of the zombies in the head, which merely snapped back for but a moment before returning to place.
Seizing the opportunity, I grinned wickedly at the frontmost thugs. “You really thought that was going to be effective?”
It took only three seconds before they turned tail, screaming at the top of their lungs. “Agh! Necromancer! She’s a necromancer! Run!”
With that, I dashed into the forest, motioning for Night to follow. Only once we were well under the canopy did I dare let out a sigh.
“Wh-what was that?” Night asked, glancing back over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Night. I should have said something earlier. Ivory has a very… special special talent. But she’s not a bad person. Please trust me on this. The matters are just complicated.” I blurted out about as inelegantly as possible.
Night pressed up against me, resting a wing on my withers. “I believe you. You know that. It’s just… weird, is all.”
I felt—no, I knew—from experience that he had just made a gross understatement, and knew it himself. “Thanks, Night. Once you meet her, it will all become clear.”
Even though I knew the forest quite well, it felt dark and foreboding. Part of it was the delirium of being dead on my hooves, yet it was undeniable that I was on edge. I kept glancing back, knowing that, while the zombies would keep back the Cartel thugs, that was the limit of their power. There was no telling if we were really, truly safe here.
It was then that the realization really sank in that Night must be feeling this, but magnitudes worse. I’d grown used to Ivory’s zombies—perhaps just a bit too used to them. What I had learned to stomach and ignore, had been thrown at a stressed Night at quite possibly the worst possible moment. The haunted look from when he’d reached the forest’s edge remained burned into my mind. Even now, I could still see glimpses of it fall across his muzzle.
The trail we were on was somewhat narrow and more of a wildlife path than anything. It was rather fortunate that the creatures preferred it so, as it wasn’t like anyone else was going to come visit Ivory.
As we turned a particularly long, winding curve, a jagged stump of a tree jutted from the ground, coming up to just a bit over my chest. It was just as I remembered, same shape, same appearance of precarious brittleness—and yet, it never collapsed, as though being struck by wild lightning had frozen it in time.
I glanced back, catching another glimpse of that expression. He clearly needed a moment to gather himself, and, with the thugs long behind us, I felt we could afford it.
“That stump marks the halfway point,” I said. “There’s a small break in the canopy ahead. Why don’t we take a moment there?”
Night’s eyes flitted behind him. “Are you sure we have time?”
“We’ll have to make some. We still have to cover this distance again. If we don’t take a breather, we’ll collapse before we make it to Ivory’s.”
He sighed a little. “Alright.”
The mini-clearing wasn’t much to look at. In fact, it wasn’t much of a clearing at all. Even now, the young trees stretched toward each other, maybe a year or two off of closing the gap entirely. However, for now, this alcove, maybe large enough for six people, was blessed with a three-foot crescent of sun.
Outside the shadows, much of Night’s tension slid off of him—enough that I was almost surprised I didn’t hear it hit the ground.
Slipping up beside him, I pressed into his mane before looking him in the eye and sighing. “Sorry. You really deserved better than that. I know you know I didn’t do it on purpose, but I should have put more thought into it. I should have trusted you. Instead, you got the scare of your life.”
“I forgive you.” His answer was almost immediate and I couldn’t help but arch my brow a little. He let out a soft chuckle. “It’s only fair. Celestia knows you’ve put up with all my regrets.”
I smirked. “This is such a Terra statement, but I guess that just proves how compatible we are.”
“Guess so.” He smiled back.
My ears shot forward as the a faint thudding, intermingled with the sound of brush being trampled underhoof, reached them. I stood at the ready. There was no way they should have gotten in front us. Aside from the extra distance making it physically unlikely, there were also sentries at the other entrances. Still, I found myself on edge.
As the sound closed in, I could make out a single set of hooves. I couldn’t relax completely, but more than a little tension escaped my body as I realized who it really should be. I stepped to the side, craning my head a little.
Sure enough, a cloaked figure came barreling around the bend, just barely visible through the trees. Despite that, the tell-tale white of her coat allayed any further suspicion. She spotted us easily enough, though, and hurried over.
“Dusky! What happened? Are you okay?” Even Ivory’s alarmed voice soothed my heart.
“Yeah.” I put on my best smile. “Sorry for tripping your sentries like that, but a rather large band of ruffians decided they didn’t want to play nice.”
“Sentries?” Night asked, seemingly more out of reservation than anything else.
“Not those. Well, yes those, but more importantly, the dark pres—” Ivory’s jaw snapped shut as her eyes locked onto Night. “Who is that?”
What a great start to the introductions. I motioned with my hoof. “This is Night. Night, Ivory. Ivory, Night.”
“Um, hi,” Night said, his eyes flitting over to me.
“Oh! The boyfriend!” Even though her face was hidden, I could see her muzzle ever-so-slightly bobbing along to the recollection of my letter.
“Fiance now,” I said.
“What? Since when?” Ivory stiffened for a half-second before waving her hoof. “Never mind. Tell me later. We should get you back to my cottage. To be honest, you two look like you were dragged a mile under a cart.”
I shrunk a little. “Yeah… it’s, uh, been a rough few days. There’s been a lot going on that we don’t understand. Speaking of which, what was that about a dark presence?”
“Later. The details are going to be long and you should get some rest first.” Ivory turned and started walking. “Just know that you are safe from it for the time being.”
As I followed, my imagination got to work. I wondered if this dark presence was what had been spying on us. It frightened me that such a thing could remain invisible, feeding information to our enemies. I could only think of worse and worse possibilities. What if, instead of simply scrying, this presence could take direct action? What if it could channel magic or objects from the other side? My only solace was that the presumably obscene amount of power required would be far beyond most people. If it wasn’t, I’m sure the possible major political shenanigans would have already brought it to light.
I shook the thoughts away. Getting myself agitated without full information was just going to waste energy I didn’t have. Once my mind settled, I felt an oddly familiar sort of serenity. It took me a moment, but I realized that it was that normal, neutral resting state—something I hadn’t felt in weeks. I supposed there was something to be said about knowing that, were we to be attacked, the entire forest would rise up and protect us.
The trail was fairly unremarkable, winding through the trees and occasionally losing itself for a couple feet before reappearing. Despite that, and my familiarity with the route, I found myself stumbling as I tried to get the stones attached to my torso to move—I was never more glad that Ivory had multiple outposts spread throughout the forest.
At last, we rounded one final bend, coming to a long straightaway. About thirty feet down, stood a log cabin, somewhat like what the Canterlot nobles might have down alongside the mountain beach. However, unlike Canterlot nobles, Ivory’s was entirely utilitarian, half because such is the creative level of a construction crew of zombies and half because no one would see any decorations Ivory put up.
This was the one I was most familiar with, though—and this could be bias talking—none of the other cabins were much different, maybe sporting an extra pair of beams here and there to keep them from running off should one of the hills lose a bit of errant surface.
The door glowed softly as it creaked open. I always knew what to expect. The room had changed little since our initial encounter years ago. In fact, were I not a frequent visitor, I might have thought we had mistaken a time capsule for a house.
A fire burned at the far end of the cabin, the sway of its flames almost lulling me to sleep right there. Starting at the corner, well away from the reach of the fire, was a run of several large, heavy bookcases, stuffed to the brim with magic tomes and research notes. Odd as it may sound, I always gave the book cases a fond look, for it was a single misplaced book that started Ivory’s and my friendship.
At the end of the bookcases was a faded white cabinet, which more or less served as her coat closet. Sitting in front of that was an old antiquity of a dining set. While the table and all four chairs were intact, they had clearly taken a beating. This was perhaps the thing that had changed the most about the cabin over the years. It had taken some gentle prodding and understanding, but I finally convinced her to remove those old placemats and vase. There was no way the wounds weren’t still there, but I figured having a reminder of her missing family sitting right out in the open every day wasn’t doing her any favours.
Initially, the table had remained unused, but there was some point—perhaps two or three visits after she’d cleared it off—where she started inviting me to eat at it. I’ve always been honoured by the gesture and take pride in making sure she can continue to count on me.
The cabinet swung open, two cots floating out to settle at the foot of the fireplace. As the cots unfurled themselves, side by side, Ivory lowered her hood. First, she peered at Night from under her jet-black mane, just the slightest bit of uncertainty giving her lips pause. “I know it isn’t much, but I hope you can forgive the sparse accommodations. Beds are a bit hard to come by out here.”
“Oh, it’s, um, fine.” Night scuffed a hoof.
“He’s no stranger to camping on the road,” I added.
“Good.” The barest of smiles crept up Ivory’s muzzle. “I can’t imagine anypony with less fortitude being your fiance. Now, get some rest, both of you.”
I opened my mouth, but Ivory shook her head.
“Sorry, Dusky. I understand you must have many questions, but trust me, you will want to be well rested and coherent for this discussion. It will be long and the solution will not be easy.”
“That’s… ominous. But, well, okay. I’ll do my best to make sure I’m prepared.” I half-turned, but there was one uncertainty that simply couldn’t wait. “Just one thing: would that dark presence be able to touch dreams?”
“Quite the specific question.” Ivory took a moment to think.
“I’ve been having nightmares,” I added, “ones that I suspect are being magically tampered with.”
“What makes you says that?”
“Mostly, a hunch. The intensity is well beyond anything I’ve ever felt. Everything about it just seems wrong.” As my words grew vaguer and less helpful, I found myself agreeing that I really should have had this conversation when I was more coherent.
“Given what I’ve gleaned thus far, you are probably right. Were it any kind of curse or enchantment, I would at least be able to detect it, and you, Dusky, are magic free.” Ivory nodded emphatically.
“Thanks, Ivory.” I mustered as much of a smile as I could. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
With that, I trotted over to the cots. It was there that everything finally hit me. All the struggle and perseverance, it had been carried on one last ounce of strength. I didn’t so much settle as plop right down, my body giving me a definitive good night.
Warmth. Deep and comforting. At first, I couldn’t quite place its source, but slowly, surely, embarrassingly, it became obvious: the hearth. I leaned back, sipping at my cider as I surveyed the bar. I didn’t really know why—there was no reason to feel on edge, yet something at the very back of my mind nagged at me.
To my left, Terra, Mahogany and Merri were busy laughing and indulging in the small army of glasses in front of them. Star wore a smaller smirk, though she didn’t seem to be enjoying herself any less. To my right were Night and Ivory, quietly chatting over tea. It struck me as a little odd, but as my eyes fell on the rest of the bar, I realized just how early we were.
The place was nearly empty, with just a hoofful of locals, who like to get their night started earlier, scattered around their usual spots. Perhaps once it got noisier, we could move to one of the back rooms.
Regardless, there wasn’t a single thing remotely threatening around, and I felt my nerves settle, if only a little.
My gaze was drawn back to the hearth, where I found my eyes in sway with the flames. I don’t know how long I sat there, mesmerized. Minutes. Hours. It all hardly mattered.
A flicker of blue cut across the logs. It was short, almost imperceptible, yet distinct. Deep in my gut, I knew I’d seen it before. From where, though, I couldn’t say. All I knew was that forgetting bothered me and I squinted as I stood, never letting my eyes leave that spot. Slowly, surely, almost as though stalking prey, I edged forward. The blue never reappeared, but I felt like I could still see it where it had been.
Before I knew it, my legs were moving of their own accord, getting closer and closer to the fire. Then, without a second thought, onto the burning logs. It didn’t hurt. I didn’t even feel the heat. Nor did I feel the bricks of the hearth as my muzzle passed through them.
Behind the fireplace was dark—dark enough that I had to give my eyes several moments to adjust. There were stars overhead, though they were faded and distant enough that they were of little help. Blinking, I scanned my surroundings. Or rather, my lack of surroundings. Where I was standing looked more like a black void, a tar pit that should have sucked me in, never to be seen again. And yet, it was solid as could be. This black plane extended in all directions, seemingly without end.
“You’re quite the perceptive one.” The voice was a mare’s, gentle, taking care not to startle me.
As I turned, I found myself facing something of a shadow. She was a pony for sure, but most of her features were washed out by darkness. Yet, everything about her was familiar, with one thing sealing the deal: the twinkling blue mane.
And still, I couldn’t quite place it. I felt I should know her name instantly, but it was almost as if something was blocking it. Shaking it off, I nodded. “I try to be. The safety of my friends and myself depend on it.”
The silhouette’s lips turned up into a smile. “Your friends are lucky to know one so diligent.”
“And I’m lucky they’re so tolerant of the weirdness I bring.” Even though I met her smile, I still couldn’t bring myself to completely trust her. “You’ve been around a lot, haven’t you?”
The mare let out a chuckle, the sort people often do when an amusing thought strikes them. “Yes. Watching, mostly. I am proud to say very little intervention has been required.”
“Intervention?” I couldn’t help by raise an eyebrow.
The mare nodded. “Of course. I do not watch for my own health. But, you, Dusky, are strong, both in your own right and because of your friends. That is why I can rest easy.”
And with that, she vanished, fading into the background as though she were only ever an illusion. I glanced around, but could not see her. “Hey, you’re really going to talk like that, then leave me hanging?”
The plane grew darker and it was then that I realized the stars were winking out, one at a time. It was slow at first, but the time between each star fading grew shorter and shorter, becoming something of a dim light show. At last, I was left with only the ground, but even that was soon gone.
As I drifted back to reality, the missing name was there waiting for me: Princess Luna. For just a split second, I swore I saw a lick of blue dancing in Ivory’s fireplace.
Shaking it off, I quickly became aware of Night’s absence. Rolling over, I scanned the room. The dining table was now occupied, Night on the left, Ivory on the right and a steaming pot of tea in the middle. I blinked, unsure if I was still dreaming.
“How are you feeling?” Ivory asked.
“Better. If a bit groggy.” I pushed myself to my hooves. As I worked the stiffness from my legs, I could feel them creaking like an old wooden chair. “I feel like I slept for a week.”
“Twenty-six hours,” Ivory corrected.
“What? And you’ve been awake this whole time?” Guilt washed over me.
“You were awake longer.” She took a sip of tea.
“Yeah, but not by choice. Sorry, Ivory, I—”
“Don’t be.” Ivory shook her head. “It’s an emergency. Time is of the essence.”
“Ivory’s been working hard to get ready to fight this dark presence when it returns.” Night glanced uncertainly between us. “H-hopefully it’s not returning too soon, though.”
“No. Not yet, anyway. It will not approach me.” Ivory spoke so surely that my mind took the roller coaster up through hope, then straight down into darkness.
“Then it’s undead.” Legends and myths came out of the woodwork to haunt me. “In my dreams, Summer Leaf said the attempt on her life only made her stronger. If what she says is true and something strange happened with the explosion, add in her having some kind of magical hold over me and the Cartel thugs… Does that make her a lich?”
Ivory shook her head. “No. Definitely not a lich. Were it such a being, it would be far beyond my power to control. No, this is more like a ghost or banshee.”
“Control?” I blinked. “You can control it?”
“Could, if it would approach me.” She gave me an apologetic look. “When you first entered the forest, it pursued you. I could sense it, of course. So I reached out, touched it. For a brief moment, it was within my grasp and I felt something: fear. That was when it fled.”
“Even if it got away, you gave me time to rest and recover.”
Ivory shook her head. “I’m afraid that will be short lived. Once you leave my protection, it will return.”
“Then what can we do?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure I can’t stab a banshee.”
“This.” She produced a thick scroll, bound with an extra-wide length of ribbon. It floated over to me. “This is a list of spells and details on how to combine them to trap the banshee on the same plane as you.”
“I see.” My mind was already working. “Then my blade will work once it is trapped with me?”
“In theory, yes. This is not something the nature of which I can readily test. But if the spells come together correctly, then you should be able to strike at it. Just be aware that it will not be easy prey.”
“Of course. Nothing is ever easy.” That was when another nagging thought wormed its way to the front of my mind. “But why are you giving this to me? I’m no mage.”
“Then you shall have to find one,” Ivory replied. “Perhaps several.”
“Wait, what about you?” Night stood. “I thought all of this study was so you could help her? I mean, n-not that this isn’t helping, I just mean… well, not to sound insensitive, but you’re a necromancer. Who could be better for this than the one who wrote the spells?”
“It’s fine, Night.” I knew better than anyone that it was not like Ivory to just plop some instructions in my bags and shove me out the door. “If she could, she would. She must have a good reason. Ivory?”
“I am embarrassed to say, but my powers are a bit of a double-edged sword. I am as much a beacon to the undead as they are to me. I had but a single chance and now it knows to stay clear of me. The very thing protecting you is preventing me from giving you direct aid.” She slumped as the last few words left her lips.
“Ivory… this is already more than I could hope to accomplish. Even if I need someone else to cast it, this is your work saving me. So, thanks.” I smiled.
“Thanks to you, we know what this thing is… and, even if you aren’t there with us, we have a way to fight it,” Night added.
Ivory’s posture did little to improve. “Don’t thank me just yet. There is much ahead of you.”
The more I thought about it, the more daunting the whole situation was. “Right. I know just who to ask, but we will need to make it back to Ponyville.”
“Not just that,” Ivory said. “Once your journey is complete, you will have to muster the strength to defeat the banshee. You should rest as much as you can before setting out.”
“Agreed. But first, we need a plan.” The next nagging thought shoved its way to the front of the line. “The Cartel couldn’t be here just for me. Pasture is too far out of the way for them to intercept me so readily—especially when there was so much dissonance within the group. They must have already been operating out here to begin with.”
“They’ve been in contact with the mayor, yes.” Ivory’s voice carried a sort of flat resignation, like she wanted to be disappointed, but Prideful Policy was going to be Prideful Policy.
Night, in turn, looked disgusted enough for the both of them. “What kind of mayor deals with monsters like the Cartel?”
“The kind of mayor that Prideful Policy is.” I found a frown of my own forming. “He’s been corrupt since well before Ivory and I even met. But I can’t see how he’d get them to work with him. The metals within the mountain have always been an ill-fated bargaining chip. The Cartel simply makes too much off Ghost Leaf to care. And there’s no way starting an op would be worth it. Pasture is so far from any major cities that shipments would be extremely vulnerable. Not to mention that a small town moving such a volume of product through Iron Shoe would quickly draw the attention of the Guard.”
Ivory nodded. “It didn’t quite feel right to me, either. Nothing really fit. Not until you showed up.”
“Until I showed up?” Even as the words left my mouth, the realization hit me. “Wait, you think this has to do with the banshee’s powers?”
“Given the nature of the magic, yes.”
“What magic? What else is going on here?” Night glanced between the two of us.
“There was an incident,” Ivory began. “Back when Dusky and I first met, we needed to band together to defeat a Shadow Walker, a griffon who sold herself for power.”
I could already see Ostfriesen playing back before Night, and I trotted over to place a wing on his withers. When he shook himself free of the past, I added, “She openly used her powers in front of the town as we fought. I imagine word of this eventually reached Summer Leaf and she sent her thugs to investigate, seeking to claim this power as her own.”
Night shuddered. “And she got it, didn’t she?”
“I suspect it didn’t quite turn out how she planned. At least, the rumours I’ve heard never involved the Shadow Walker dying,” Ivory replied. “However, she did achieve something that is proving to be nearly as problematic.”
I was already formulating a plan. “Well, this probably won’t be much different than those bandits. Maybe even easier, since there’s a marked disconnect between these thugs and their mistress. If we bring down their base, they should scatter and even if Summer Leaf coerces them into returning, the remoteness without a base will greatly hamper them.”
“There is no need for something so complicated.” Ivory shook her head as she got to her hooves. “My zombies will cover your escape. Then you can return to Ponyville.”
“But what about you?” I couldn’t quite believe what she’d just suggested. There were dozens more questions I wanted to ask, but this was the only one I could mouth out.
“These thugs are nothing. I’ve been dealing with bandits all my life.”
It was my turn to shake my head. “Ivory, I can’t just leave you. This is a real—”
“Problem. Yes, I know, Dusky. They can’t be allowed to remain as they are forever and they won’t. But right now is not the time to look out for others. You need to look out for yourself. Deal with the banshee first, then you’ll be free to do as you wish.” Even as Ivory said it, I could see the pain, the loneliness in her eyes. She didn’t want to send me away, but she knew she had to. And she knew I’d see it.
As I fought back the tears, some still escaped. I didn’t care. Taking a deep breath, I sighed. “Okay, Ivory. You’re right. But the moment we win, I’m coming back. I swear it.”
Taking to heart Ivory’s advice, I stayed another day to rest. Of course, given how long I’d slept initially, I couldn’t go back to bed right away. This did give me an opportunity to make sure the entirety of my pack was in order and to make a list of all the supplies we were likely to need along the way. And when I still felt restless, I took to sharpening my wingblade. Every bit of energy spent now was precious energy I wouldn’t have to expend while we made the journey home.
I had Night doing much the same as myself, though at a slower pace. He learned quickly, absorbing my hurried instruction like a sponge, but didn’t have the years and years required to make it second nature. Watching him scurry about, a blanket of melancholy fell over me.
When he looked up, our eyes met and he tilted his head. “Dusky? Is something wrong?”
Shaking my head, I let out a little chuckle. “Nothing we haven’t already discussed. I’m just… sorry. We’re supposed to be on vacation, but here we are preparing to run off and fight another supernatural horror.”
“It’s okay,” Night said.
“Is it really, though?” I sighed. “This weirdness that follows me, it’s why I was always afraid for my friends. Why I was always convinced I’d never have a special someone. Are you really sure you want to marry into this?”
“M-maybe not that in particular, but…” A sappy smile spread across his lips. “Everything else makes it worth it.”
“Everything? Including this?” I couldn’t help myself. I was so tightly wound that it crossed back over to zero.
I wiggled my butt.
Night turned bright red. “U-um, yes. I, I mean no. I mean it’s not the most important—”
Sliding up beside him, I snuck a quick nuzzle and giggled. “I know what you meant.”
---
While Night and I were busy with our preparations, Ivory was constantly in and out of the cabin, checking in on her sentries and the edge of the forest. She didn’t really need to be that close to command her zombies, but I suspected she wanted to confirm, with her own eyes, the safest route for our departure.
Plus, I think she was glad for the busy work. I know I was. Packing kept me focused away from the inevitable. Of course, it’s called “inevitable” for a reason and so it came to pass that two grown mares were left standing there, on the verge of breaking down.
Ivory shook it off first, stepping forward and saying, “One last gift for you before you go.”
Her horn lit up and a faint purple wave of light washed over me. It simultaneously felt warm and cold, such that I couldn’t help but squirm under its effect. After a few seconds, I looked up, “What was that?”
“A ward of my own devising. I’m afraid it’s a bit crude. It will neither hide you nor bar the banshee from approaching you. However, it will radiate magic that her kind will find quite painful.”
“Which means if she’s determined, she can still affect me?” I asked.
Ivory nodded. “Sadly, yes. I wish I could apply a stronger enchantment, but it would not last long enough to be meaningful.”
“Thanks, Ivory. I appreciate it—and everything else you’ve done.” It was my turn to step forward, pulling her into a quick hug. “How long do I have?”
“Twenty-four hours at best. You’d better get going.”
---
The journey home was grim from the start—a miserable thought I never thought I’d think. Which was, perhaps funny to consider. Ponyville had been ground zero for an Ursa attack, the wrath of a scorned dark princess, the shenanigans of a chaos god and the rampaging minions of an ancient evil. What was one more supernatural attack?
Perhaps it was the anticipation. The previous disasters had all happened so quickly, forcing a reaction from us. Here, it was a long flight back, with Ivory’s magic only covering me for about one-third of the journey. And even then, I was still technically vulnerable, to say nothing of what could happen after the ward ran out.
Spurred on by that fear, I pushed us as hard as I dared the first day, flying straight south while we still had the element of surprise. At first I was tense, the thought that I had sorely underestimated Summer Leaf’s power flooding my mind. I clung to what Ivory had said, a buoy keeping me from being washed away into madness: fear. Summer Leaf had felt fear. Maybe, just maybe, it was she who overestimated herself. After several hours with neither blockade nor so much as a Cartel scout, I felt that lifeline swell into confidence.
However, reality quickly brought me closer to earth as darkness fell without Las Pegasus in sight. Still, it gave me the courage to push forward, to realize that, for the moment, there was nothing lurking in the dark, but if I chickened out and set up camp in the wilderness, we might not find the night so friendly anymore.
After what felt like a year, the lights of Las Pegasus came into view. I flashed Night a reassuring smile as we descended, mind drifting back to the forest, to one of my frenzied planning sessions.
“Full disclosure,” I’d said. “The Gooseneck Galley is a known Mob-owned hotel.”
“W-wait, a Mob hotel?!” Night had stared blankly. “Why?”
“This may sound strange, but as long as we don’t stick our muzzles in their business, it’s the safest place to be.” When my words failed to wipe the skepticism from Night’s face, I continued. “The Cartel will be at a severe disadvantage if they try to start something in a Mob establishment. In the very least, it should give us time to escape. Otherwise, it’s probably our only chance for a decent rest once we leave these woods.”
Night let it all stew for ten seconds, then twenty, before finally nodding—albeit slowly and with a bit of a frown. “Alright, Dusky. If you think it’s best. I don’t like it… but I trust you.”
As my hooves touched the smooth cloud-secured concrete of the Las Pegasus strip, my mind shot back to the present. Across the street sat the Gooseneck Galley, the golden sheen of its twenty-story tower steeped in a thousand fallen wallets.
The front of courtyard was partly walled off by an all-too-glitzy approximation of a palisade. At least, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to actually use the thing giving it such a bright brown paint job. A mock blast hole served as the gate, giving the street a good, wide view of the eponymous galley.
It was a scale model of sorts, though one that went above and beyond the norm. If other major cities’ hotels were kids budgeting out for forty-bit models, the Gooseneck was the kid dropping an entire paycheck on the masterwork 2000ZX figurine. I’m no sailor, but the materials seemed pointedly chosen for authenticity, just cut down to size. Each plank appeared to be carefully aligned and the sails even fluttered in the breeze. Were it not firmly suspended above the hotel’s fountain by several iron poles, I’d almost expect it to have flown away. Perhaps the oddest detail was the bow, which had been shaped into the face of a surprisingly menacing-looking goose. Despite that, it was unable to shake off its theme-park vibe. Something told me that was likely intentional, as a way of averting suspicion.
Standing atop the deck of the ship itself was another model—an earth pony mare, dressed in the most stereotypical pirate captain outfit possible, skull-and-crossbone hat included. The blindingly gold jewelry was the perfect blend of the hotel showing off while being able to pretend that was an authentic thing a pirate would do.
I honestly hadn’t been quite sure what to expect. The logical side of me said, exactly this. Well, perhaps not exactly, but the showboating for certain. The fearful, more paranoid side, expected something ominous. Perhaps a bone road leading past a skeletal captain, who would beckon as we approached.
Sighing inwardly, I waved off such ridiculousness and turned to Night. “You ready?”
Much like me, his eyes had been fixed on the boat, with just the slightest of delays before his attention snapped back to me. “I... I don’t know.”
“We’re just a couple of tourists, wandering into a nice, overly fancy hotel so we can do what everyone comes to Las Pegasus to do.” I gave him a reassuring smile.
“Right.” Night took a deep breath. “Nothing to be nervous about.”
“Exactly.” I gave him a quick nudge before crossing the street.
Beyond the fence and ship was a pair of tall, golden frames, with window panes twice as tall as me. They slid away as I approached, revealing a lobby that leaned a little more to the practical side, though only a little. An expanse of gold tile filled the room, broken up every so often by a series of purple throw rugs. All around the room were little displays, ranging from goofy, squat treasure chests, to plainer crates with odd silver trim.
The front desk was modeled after a tavern bar—if tavern bars were gold plated. It spanned the width of nearly the entire room, easily leaving enough space for ten receptionists. Since we were arriving at that odd time between the normal check-in rush and the alcohol-fueled last-minute crowd, there were only two at their stations. Both were dressed as stereotypical pirates: white shirt, black pants and a red sash. There was a little customization involved, with the mare on the left sporting an eyepatch and the stallion on the right wearing a bandana. And because the hotel was worried we wouldn’t be able to figure out where we were, both articles were emblazoned with the hotel’s logo: a line drawing of the gooseneck galley.
“Arrr! Welcome to the Gooseneck Galley!” the stallion called out. “What can I do you for today?”
I smiled, moving up to the desk. “We’ve come to see the sights and sounds of Las Pegasus, and decided that the experience just wouldn’t be complete without staying a night in a ritzy hotel.”
“Yar! Then you’ve come to the right place. We offer only the ritziest rooms, decorated by the very best of our plunder!” he replied. “What be your name, lass? And how long will ye be stayin’ with us?”
“Evening Star,” I said, which he quickly scribbled on a piece of parchment. “And just one night.”
“One night… for Miss Evening Star. That’ll be four hundred doubloons.”
I swallowed hard. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it—I’d expected the cost to be high—but given what I was used to budgeting out and paying, such a price hit me straight in the gut. However, I quickly pushed past. Expensive as it was, the circumstances called for safety first and foremost. Once I finished counting out the bits, the receptionist slid over a rather large, silver room key. It owed much of its size to being an old replica, oversized ring and long shaft included.
“Yar, we be settled! Elevators be just down the hall. Take ‘em to the second floor and ye be the third door on the right. Enjoy yer stay and don’t forget the buffet runs until midnight!”
As we trotted away, I found Night still glancing back. With a bit of a giggle, I whispered, “Enjoying the theatrics?”
“Um, I guess. I’d have probably loved this place as a colt.” He gave me a bit of a sheepish look. “Now it just seems to be a bit much. And... a bit weird, for a few reasons.”
“I get what you’re saying.” I shook my head. “But, it’s not like they can have a sign outside advertising their true nature. Nor can their employees do anything that might give them away. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure that receptionist was in the know.”
It didn’t take long for us to reach the room and as the gold door slid shut behind us, I took a moment to just sit and breathe. Then the room immediately took it away.
A wide, oak desk sat at the far end of the room, enveloped in the night lights streaming in through the large, bay window. The spider web of a wooden frame looked like it could easily fit into a ship’s stern. Under the moonlight waited a lonely stack of parchment, a quill pen… and the breakfast menu.
With a smirk, I turned to the rest of the room. Competing with the desk for grandiosity was the king-size bed, whose posts extended up to the ceiling. A full curtain rack ran the entire perimeter of the bed, with a set of thick, red curtains waiting on the right side.
“Guess we don’t need to worry about room service walking in during our private moments.” I giggled and flashed Night a grin.
He blushed a little. “R-right. We wouldn’t want them to, um, see how rowdy we get.”
“Indeed.” I continued grinning as I stole a peck on his cheek.
Aside from that, there were a few more props playing up the Captain’s room theme: an odd portrait of a large parrot wearing an eyepatch, flashing a swashbuckler’s smile at the room; a tall, oaken coat closet, on which sat a ship in a bottle; and finally, a long night-stand-dresser combo filled the space between the bed and the bathroom wall, bearing a lamp to which the shade was a black captain’s hat.
Unlike the breakfast menu, which tried its best to blend in with the furniture, the bathroom had much less of a regard for the theme. Which isn’t to say the standard sink-tub-toilet set hadn’t been blinged up—the hotel’s obsession with adding silver trim to things was in full effect. But, well, I’ll just say authentic pirate hygiene isn’t really a thing the hotel would be interested in encouraging and leave it at that.
After Night and I finished our walkthrough, he spent a few more seconds staring out at the main bedroom before looking back at me. “A-and I thought Myrtail was too much.”
“This is definitely well out of my normal budget range, that’s for sure.” I laughed. Truth be told, with the amount of effort put into this hotel, I was beginning to wonder if it really was just a front or if it had accidentally evolved into its own legit business. “Would you believe me if I told you this is only a mid-high-grade hotel when it comes to Las Pegasus?”
He tilted his head, but he’d hardly completed the motion when he nodded. “Yeah, um, after seeing the strip, I think I would.”
“Still.” I flashed him a grin. “As far as hideouts to hunker down and fortify, we could have chosen worse.”
With Ivory’s ward expected to run out soon, I found myself growing tense. We only needed to hold out in this room for the night, though I was distinctly aware that, should things start going wrong, we needed to move quickly, lest it become nothing more than a giant coffin—a fancy, gold-plated coffin, but a coffin, nonetheless.
I set to work, closing the thick, red curtains of the bay windows. Their shape was rather convenient, such that if I stood near the sidewall, I could be out of sight of the window, yet still have a decent view of the strip. Not that I expected the Cartel to start a frontal assault, but with the golden walls running the perimeter, the gate was the only real easy entrance. I supposed there was potentially the delivery entrance, though I suspected the secluded location also meant the Mob would have a substantial set of sentries in place. If something happened, I expected to hear it. To that end, my watch routine became several minutes at the window, followed by a quick pass by the door, ears twitching. A side benefit was that the constant pacing helped me shed bits of anxiety.
Of course, keeping this up all night would leave any one person a ragged mess in the morning. Thus, Night and I agreed to resume the watch rotation we’d developed on the road. Despite the long journey and the relatively late hour, neither of us were sleepy enough to be the first to bed. While anxiety was the leading factor, Las Pegasus’s sights and sounds considering the night to still be young certainly did us no favours.
As such, Night lay atop the sheets, worry ever so slightly growing on his face with each circuit I made. At last, the frown grew too deep and he sat up. “I think I have an idea.”
“Hmmm?” I’d just started scanning the street, though even as I directed a little more attention to him, I couldn’t recall anything we discussed that may have served as a source of inspiration. “Idea for what?”
“The trip home, when the ward has worn off.” Night stood and walked up beside me. “We can send for help and meet up part way.”
“It’s a good idea, but I don’t know if I have the right contacts to get it delivered in a timely matter. I guess I could ask around a little.”
“You don’t have to. After Fillydelphia, my dad gave me a special address. He said if I ever found myself in trouble, I could send a letter to it through the Guard and it would reach him in a day. I’m not sure it can help us with a banshee.” Night smiled sheepishly. “But it might mean some extra protection on the road, at least. If I can give you peace of mind, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I leaned over, pressing my muzzle into the brown strands of his mane. “I appreciate the concern. Guess it might be time to send out those postcards.”
“Yeah.” Night hurried over to the desk, though he hesitated a bit before sitting down. To be entirely fair, the thing was so comically oversized that, were he to fall underneath, I might never see him again. After fishing one of the postcards from his bag, he began furiously scribbling. About a minute went by when his writing came to a halt. He looked up at me. “Where can we meet?”
I took a moment to consider. I hadn’t fully decided yet, other than that I wanted to do something odd and unpredictable. To have to throw predictability back in had me wondering if I’d need to revise everything. “Without knowing how fast he can get people ready to meet us, it’ll need to be someplace that gives them a head start. There’s a number of options, but I think all the best routes will take us near or through Cloudcrest. It’s a bit old and isolated, but your father should know it. That should give him and his people the advantage in reaching it and settling in before any significant Cartel force can arrive.”
“Okay.” He resumed writing.
Crystalside was a lot of fun! Beautiful scenery and an amazing old dig site. It’s no Daring Do, but it’s still neat. The flight out was a bit rough, ran into some trouble with the weather. Just like that time in Myrtail Beach, remember? We took to ground near Cloudcrest to wait for the weather to pass. We’d hoped for clear flying, but you know what Mom says, Sometimes being a pegasus means getting tossed around like a leaf in a storm. Wish you were here!
-Night and Dusky.
As he tucked the postcard into his flight satchels, I slung my own over my back. “Since we can’t sleep, let’s go for a stroll down the strip. Maybe play a round or two of roulette.”
Night gave me a funny look. “I thought you didn’t like gambling.”
“I don’t.” I let out a sigh. “But if we go straight to our destination, our hosts may get the wrong idea. We need to act the part. At the same time, I don’t want to bankrupt us. However, these tables tend to get pretty busy. So, I figure we go over, lose a few spins, then find someone on a winning streak and pretend to be in awe. That should let us kill enough time to be safe.”
He frowned, the reminder digging deeply. At last, he nodded. “If you think it’s necessary.”
The strip seemed a little emptier, though the open doors of several nearby casinos made it pretty clear people were not done for the night. Being unable to blend in as readily made me feel a little uneasy, but it was technically a blessing of a sort. Anyone watching would see exactly what I wanted them to see. Now it was just a matter of finding a casino far enough away to circumvent the question of why we didn’t play at the Gooseneck. Slowing to a saunter, I pretended to get distracted by everything, all the while keeping an eye out for my quarry.
At last, I spotted the perfect excuse: a neon sign that exclaimed, Rehaa’sBeginner’s Night! The words flashed individually in succession as they flowed out of the stereotypical squat, yellow Saddle Arabian lamp. Said sign was attached to a smooth white wall, with golden trim. To its left, a spade-shaped gap beckoned us in. I answered.
A wide carpet of all colours led the way into the heart of the casino. Before long, it forked, then forked again, cutting through the sea of green felt tables. Dealers in oversized turbans shifted cards, chips and balls around with dazzling speed.
I relaxed a little as I turned down the right fork. This place was so crowded that sometimes it was difficult to tell what was at which table. While that did make finding what I was seeking a bit tougher, it also made our cover look that much more legit. If someone from the Gooseneck had followed us, I seriously doubted they would go much further than this. At least, not when we’d given them little reason for suspicion.
To keep it that way, I decided we should stick with the plan. As luck turned out, the second crowded table I checked was roulette, which was on the very divide between its own section and a Blackjack section.
Sliding up to the side, I put on a bit of a touristy voice as I swapped twenty bits for chips. Turning to Night, I grinned, motioning to the betting board. “All we have to do is guess which section of the wheel the ball will land. What do you think, black or red?”
“Oh, um…” Night scrunched his face a little, uncertain about this choice that had ultimately had no meaningful difference. His eyes drifted over to my coat. “Black.”
“Okay,” I said. With a giggle, I set some chips down. “Five on black!”
The dealer nodded, sliding my bet over to the little black bar on the betting grid. After a couple more bets, the dealer held the ball up to the table, giving the wheel a firm spin. As the grand golden grid of numbered slots reached full speed, the dealer dropped the ball in.
The sound of stone on metal echoed as the ball deflected twice, then thrice, before finally getting caught up in the current of the wheel. It struggled a little longer, but ultimately found a place in one of the far slots.
“Black twenty-six!” the dealer called out, setting out about paying and collecting chips in turn.
“Hey, good call!” I said to Night.
“Um, thanks?” His voice quickly oscillated from question to statement as he tried to play along. I had a feeling he was less confused by the game so much as to why anyone found it so exciting. To be perfectly fair, I’ve never been particularly excited by this kind of thing, either—even when I win.
“Let’s see if we can double it again. We’ll stick with our lucky colour.” I pushed the chips back toward the grid.
With a flourish, the dealer spun the wheel again. “Red three!”
“Aw. That didn’t last long.” I swatted dramatically at the air. “Well, don’t worry. We can win it all back and more. Think we should swap to red?”
“Yeah, maybe that will be luckier,” Night replied.
With that, I put the rest of our money on red. Round and round the wheel went.
“Double zero!”
I blinked.
Turning to me, Night tilted his head. “That doesn’t count as red, does it?”
“No. No, it doesn’t,” I replied. “Maaaaybe this is a sign we should take a break. Hey, that guy’s got a lot of chips. Let’s see if we can figure out how he does it!”
---
The rest of the hour passed with us hovering from winner to winner, pretending to fawn over them. It was a strange experience, but better than blowing through our entire bit stash pretending we loved roulette—not that I had much left after paying for the hotel, anyway.
We came away more relaxed than I expected, though I really should have expected that might be the case when the entire objective was goofing off for long enough. The trip to the Guard station was uneventful. The streets were still relatively sparse, such that I would have noticed anyone following us over a longer distance like that.
The receptionist took Night’s postcard without so much as a comment. Were it not for the meaningful glance that she gave him, I might have worried that our message wasn’t going to get out in time. I couldn’t blame them, really, as the whole point of a secret mail system is not advertising its existence.
Just how much we needed that ridiculous outing didn’t become apparent until we returned to our room. Night fell into something of a sleep, though I did see him crack an eye the odd time that I went to check the hall. For my own part, while we were largely safe, I could feel myself getting tightly wound, little by little, each time I stared down the street or pressed my ear to the door.
When the shift change came, I found myself just shy of tossing and turning. I figured that, if nothing else, I could doze and conserve energy. But as I sunk into the sheets, I felt myself slip into that haze that sat on the line between dream and reality. I saw Ivory in the distance, standing in the middle of a blinding light. She was ringed by several shapes in the shadows, though what they were, I couldn’t tell.
I tried to call her name, but nothing came out. I tried to run to her, but my hind legs were leaden, almost bolting me to the ground. So, I did what I could: reached out with my forelegs, pulling with all my strength, as I dragged my body forward.
After the fifth or sixth pull, I found myself no closer. Was it a trick of my exhaustion?
Five more and I began to suspected I wasn’t seeing things. Five beyond that and I was certain. But, I couldn’t stop. No, I wouldn’t leave her behind. An eternity went by. I thought I could hear someone cackling, just at the barest edge of my hearing. I ignored it and pressed on.
When at last the exhaustion was too much, I lay there. Just five minutes of rest. That’s all I’d need, then I could begin anew. Feebly, I reached out a hoof and, as it crunched softly against the dust, I returned to reality—and my next shift.
---
Despite the fatigue inherent to alternating two hours asleep and two hours awake, the night became easier as it went on. The streets began to clear out to the point where it almost seemed barren. Of course, there were still packs of loud, drunk people stumbling around, but it was pretty easy to identify those as not being a hit squad. Anyone else serious enough to still be out was likely going to be throwing thousands of bits around at the tables until the sun came up.
My dreams continued to grow more restless, though the haze of being in and out of sleep so much left me unable to remember much. I took the lack of vivid memories as a blessing, a sign that Summer Leaf wasn’t able to break through just yet. Even so, there was always one detail I could never forget: that long, distant cackling.
In any event, the night passed without a gang war breaking out in the hallway, allowing us to conserve enough energy for an early start. Cloudcrest Hill was a little over halfway to Canterlot, meaning we’d be pushing ourselves again. I made a note to bring Ivory something extra next time, since without her protection, this second day would have been hell.
Still, we couldn’t afford to get sloppy. Rested or not, there could be Cartel agents along the route. It was for this same reason that I avoided significant population centres. Even a touristy town like Lunar Lake could have sleeper cells about.
With mostly wilderness between us and home, the only real effective blockade for a couple pegasi would have to also be airborne. Enough emplacements like catapults or adept mages could also make the skies very dangerous, but they lacked something we had: extreme maneuverability. As such, while I spared some glances down at the forest and plains below, what I was really looking out for were suspicious cloud formations. Anything excessively large or several medium clumps that created tunnels of sorts were to be avoided.
The sun was falling through the sky as we arrived. Strangely, there weren’t many clouds around, a fact that unsettled me about a town that was all but abandoned. It almost felt like we were being lulled into a false sense of security. My eyes drifted downward, to the multitude of places that people could hide.
All around the hill was what used to be fields of wheat. By now, they’d grown well out of control, becoming more like a mini forest. The remnants of some paths cut through them, though they were usually isolated chunks of stone, unable to truly guide anyone. We circled the perimeter, but as best I could tell, the wheat hadn’t been disturbed.
My eyes drifted inward, to the hill itself. It was on the larger side of the categorization, steep, almost craggy drops on three of the sides. The rear had a somewhat more gentle slope, though the remnants of manually carved paths climbing it made it clear just how gentle the hill really was. At the top were a number of stone structures, hollow and abandoned. At one point, they had housed a detachment of Guard and a scant few officials. Back then, what was now overrun by tall grass had been what were likely wooden houses, completing the outpost that had once been Cloudcrest Hill. But that was before my time, when Equestria was still new, and this paltry stone’s throw from Canterlot was where the border guard deployed.
Halfway through the pass, I almost had to double take. Standing just barely in the shadow of the skeleton that had once been a barracks, was a figure. Green coat, blonde mane. Seemed obvious. Almost too obvious. I waved Night over to a nearby cloud—the only nearby cloud. As we hastily settled, I pointed a hoof, walking Night’s eyes over.
He squinted, whispering, “Mint?”
“It looks like. There’s no one else that I can see, and she’s not exactly hiding.” I shook my head. “But it could also be an impersonator. I can’t really tell from this distance. What do you think?”
Night leaned as far as he dared, scrutinizing the figure who might be his sister. “Yeah... almost certain that’s her. Want me to go down first, just in case?”
“No. We’ll check together. Head down carefully, and keep your eyes open. I’ll circle around and if anything’s amiss, get out of there.”
Night went straight down, while I cut about a third of the way around, giving me a decent view of the remaining structures. A little more and I’d be in a position to flank the figure if Night got into trouble.
That was when the figure looked up, stepped out of the shadows and waved. She let out a whistle, which my mind took as a signal. There was a short moment of panic where I scanned for additional figures emerging from the stone hollows. As I calmed down, relief flooded over me.
Night seemed more than persuaded, hastening his descent. “Mint?”
She stepped forward, clearly giving him a moment to see who she was, before rushing forward and confirming with a tight hug. “Nighty? You alright? What’s happening? Where’s Dusky?”
Though I kept an eye behind me, I saw no reason to linger in her blind spot. Setting down, I said, “Here. I’m glad to see you, Mint. Thanks for flying out with such short notice.”
Mint let out a deep sigh and it was then that I really noticed how disheveled she was. It was less a few hours of hiding in an abandoned town and more the weary look of someone who had been fighting a battle of attrition. “Thank Celestia you’re okay. We’ve been hearing reports of Cartel activity all over the place. Some big power struggle after the Mob escalated things and Summer Leaf fell. The Guard’s been cleaning up the pieces, but they’ve suddenly been on the move, organizing fast. Dad’s been keeping me up to date... and then we got your postcard this morning.”
“It’s a lot more complicated than someone winning the power struggle, but that’s certainly part of it.” I gave her an apologetic smile. Somehow, I felt responsible, as though my years-old mistake had been the slow burn that set off this powder keg. It was a ridiculous notion, of course, with so many moving parts from so many different parties, but the feeling was there. “We’re going to need all the help we can get to put an end to this.”
Mint stood straight, breaking out a friendly salute. “You have my hooves, Dusky, Night. Is this new Cartel leader targeting you?”
The whole thing was so stupid and complicated. I wanted to explain right there, but three people just standing there chatting in the open was a recipe for disaster. Instead, all that came out was something of a bitter laugh. “Yes, and no. First, we need to make camp. We can deal with Summer Leaf once we reach Ponyville.”
“Wait, Summer Leaf? Isn’t she dead?” Mint stared at me.
“It’s a long story…”
“Right, and we don’t have time.” She glanced over her shoulder, past the structures, past the edge of the hill. “There’s a Guard safe house about an hour northwest of here. We’d get there after dark. You two both able to keep going?”
I swallowed. The sharp scent of blood reached my nostrils and I almost took a step back. I gritted my teeth, pushing the memories away. I refused to break now. I refused to put us all in danger.
“Maybe that’s not the best idea, Mint,” Night interjected.
I let out a sigh, continuing to ignore the scent that was clearly there, but not there. Shaking my head, I turned to Night. “No, it’s probably the best option we’ve got for a good rest. So long as you hadn’t planned this ahead of time, Mint. We’re in a situation where what we say, and where we are, is compromised, so your safe house won’t be safe once we leave.”
Mint gave me a weird look. I could see the possibilities running through her mind, of which none of them fit. “Right. You really need to fill me in as soon as we’re secure.”
“We will, Mint... it’s... well, complicated and weird,” added Night. He slid up beside me and as he pressed up against my neck, I leaned into it a little. “But it’s still worth it.”
“Flatterer.” I pulled away and grinned at him.
Letting out a bit of a snort, Mint glanced between the two of us. “Celestia bless her, Nighty, but your marefriend is nothing but trouble.”
“It’s worse than that, Mint. Much worse. She's my fiance now.” His eyes lapsed into that trademark sappy look.
“Well, I’ll be. I win the bet. All the more reason to get this all settled and behind us. Gotta look out for my little brother.” Mint’s smile widened. “And my new sister, too.”
I focused on moving forward. It was all I could do, for if I let my mind wander, I might have hesitated. If we weren’t going to dig in and make camp in Cloudcrest, we needed to make it to the safe house. Everything in the direction Mint was guiding us was either plains or feral fields for miles—far from ideal for traveling undetected and suicidally vulnerable to make camp in. With each moment bringing more and more darkness, there was no room for second guessing.
My eyes flitted everywhere as the dying light cast shadows between every remotely thick clump of wheat. I couldn’t let them linger on the ground too long, either, for clouds were beginning to take up more and more of the sky. It was almost like being back in the Badlands.
After way too long, a faint light appeared on the horizon. I looked at Mint, ready to stop and break away at a moment’s notice. However, Mint banked, pointing herself directly at the light. I let out just the barest sigh of relief.
Below was what appeared to be a small farm, its land cutting a very rough square out of the tall grass. Within the square was a small sea of orange dots, winking in and out of existence as the pumpkins’ leaves swayed in the breeze. At the head of the field was a lantern post—the light we’d seen in the distance. Just a few feet away from that was a farm house, though as we closed in, it struck me as more of a shed than anything. Regardless, there was no light on inside.
Giving house and field a relatively wide berth, was an oddly large barn. Or, perhaps it just seemed that way compared to the shack. I had difficulty telling in the dark, but it at least seemed like more care had been put into assembling it. I supposed it made sense, given that any animals and equipment would be more valuable than anything kept in the house.
Touching down, Mint took the lantern from the post, sparing only a moment to make sure we were still following before trotting toward the barn. We passed the main doors, and I raised an eyebrow as Mint turned the far corner. The terrain grew a little rougher here, with some large stones that had not been cleared away. I wondered if there was some hidden cave we would be hunkering down in.
I was half-right.
Beyond the second stone were the heavy wooden doors of an underground cellar. With barely a grunt, Mint swung the left door open, waving us in. Despite my best efforts, I felt my heart stop—and myself along with it. All that lay before me was a set of stone steps, the darkness at the bottom leaving the rest to my imagination. I knew it would be clean, containing little more than preserved fruits and yet, all I could see was the warehouse basement. The smooth, cement walls were painted in the blood of Guard and Cartel alike. They closed in, pushing the corpses ever closer, invading my nostrils. I heard the screams: two stallions locked in mortal combat.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed forward, even as the images grew more and more vivid.
“You okay?” Night’s whisper nearly made me jump.
“I’ll be fine. I just need a few moments,” I replied, taking a few deep breaths.
Once the door thumped shut behind us, Mint came down, illuminating the cobblestone cellar. Uneven wooden shelves lined each wall, though they were currently empty. I felt myself calm down a little, but the blood lingered at the edge of my mind, threatening to invade without notice.
“Almost there,” whispered Mint.
“Almost?” Relief crossed Night’s face as he surveyed the room once more. To be perfectly fair, I hadn’t been looking forward to sleeping in the corner of a dusty fruit cellar, either.
With another wave of her wing, Mint led the way to the very back of the room. There, she pressed herself against the wall, giving it a firm shove. Then another. With a third, a small section of the wall eased open.
Inside was another cobblestone room, about half the size of the main cellar. Several crates sat near the back of the room, forming a semi-circle around a trio of cots.
Once the wall was back in place, Mint pointed a hoof. “Food’s on the left. Water in the middle. Other basics in the right. We need to get out of here fast, there’s another door in the back-left corner.”
“Okay.” I nodded, trying to take the information in between breaths. Now that we were relatively safe, a tidal wave of exhaustion hit me, and I fell to my haunches. Night pressed up against me. He didn’t say a word, but his worried glance told me all I needed to know. With a shake of my head, I forced a smile. “Thanks, Night. I’ll be fine.”
---
My assailant lay motionless, slumped in the corner of my room, his eyes rolled back behind his bloodied balaclava. I kept my wingblade leveled at him. Five seconds. Ten. Nothing.
He’d nearly done me in, caught me with my back half-turned. Never had I been so glad to be too restless to sleep. At the same time, I felt dread pressing at the back of my mind, seeking to replace the adrenaline currently setting my senses ablaze. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t. We were supposed to be safe, hidden in the basement of this warehouse. Instead, this side storage had almost become a coffin.
As I turned to the door, a stitch pulled at my side, quickly tearing and sending a ripple of pain across my body. I clenched my teeth, silencing myself. There was no way I could take another fight like this. I needed to find the Guards. They’d know what to do.
Stumbling out of my room, I wanted to throw up. A half-dozen corpses lay strewn across the cement floor. Blood was smeared and spattered every which way—mostly on the floor, but also on the walls. Even the ceiling couldn’t escape it, with several of the lanterns casting misshapen black blots across every surface.
I didn’t understand. We were supposed to be safe.
There was shouting. Screaming. Someone was dying. I didn’t know if I dared move toward the sounds. Some part of me wanted to go in the opposite direction. The only problem was that was ten feet, then straight into a wall.
One of the other side doors burst open, its overwhelming echo almost sending me scurrying for cover. Out stepped a large, tan earth pony. When last I’d seen him, the words I’d have to used to describe Silent Vigil would have been “rugged”, “handsome”, and just about every other word an action novel would want in a protagonist. Now, the thick jacket that doubled as padded barding was caked in blood—which I couldn’t be certain if it was his or another’s. He squinted behind the start of a black eye, and his deep brown mane looked like it’d been through a hurricane or two.
“You okay?” he called out in a low tone.
“Yeah, I… I’m a little banged up, but nothing compared to you.” I nodded almost mechanically. “But what’s going on? What’s happening?”
“We’ve been compromised,” he growled. “We have to get you out of here.”
“Compromised? How?” I squeaked out.
“I don’t know. We’ll figure out it after. This way.” He led me down the hall from where he’d come. Two more Cartel lay crumpled against the wall.
After a couple turns that I barely remembered, we hit a set of stairs that led us back up to the main floor. It came out somewhere within the offices, of which the floor was composed of endless white tiles. As we reached a T-intersection, more shouting echoed down the hall. It was close, likely just outside, in the main storage area.
Silent Vigil winced as he made a hard left, whispering, “This way! Hurry”
The next room finally held some friendly faces, grim as they were. As we passed them, they pushed the double doors shut behind us, jamming a steel office table under the handles.
“Status?” Silent Vigil asked.
“The rear exit is still secure,” replied the brown mare. Her partner, a purple stallion, braced himself against the table.
“Good. Once we get out, we’ll take the alley four warehouses over. Should we get separated, there’s an old dingy under the bridge. It’s a bit old-fashioned, but it’s also quiet.” Silent Vigil turned and motioned for me to follow.
“What about them?” I glanced at the other Guards.
Silent Vigil’s face grew cold. “Forget them. They’re doing their job.”
“What? No! We can’t leave them behind! Not to mention the others!” I suddenly found myself standing my ground.
“Don’t be foolish.” Silent Vigil shook his head. “This is what we’re trained to do. You are not. Let them do their jobs and we’ll all get out of this.”
“But…” I turned back to the other Guards. I didn’t think Silent Vigil would lie to me, but given the looks on their faces, I found myself hesitating.
“We don’t have time for this.” He grabbed my tail, pulling me along.
That’s when the double doors burst open. Almost in one motion, the red-brown earth pony came crashing through the middle, ramming into the purple Guard. As the doors swung fully open, a unicorn and a pegasus appeared alongside him. The brown Guard leapt upon the unicorn amidst an echoing cry of, “Go!”
Silent Vigil yanked harder. It should have hurt, but I was too numb. Somehow I was already in the next room, no thanks to my own efforts. It was only then, as everything collapsed around me, that I truly realized why my mom always said that there were no rules or honour on the battlefield—just doing what had to be done.
The Cartel pegasus came sailing through the doorway, his own wingblade narrowly missing me as I half-ducked, half-fell. I rolled to face him while simultaneously trying to scramble out of range of a second strike—all with the approximate grace of a lumbering ox. He wore a thick cloak, but otherwise did little to conceal his face. I guess with the assassins having failed, they had simply decided to bulldoze their way through in more ways than one.
Silent Vigil rocketed in like a runaway cart, ramming into the Cartel thug, pushing him out of reach. They tumbled away in a pile of flailing limbs. I followed, looking for an opportunity to intervene. That was when I saw the blade turn his way, helpless to do anything as it slid into his kidney.
With a rage-filled grunt, Silent Vigil rained down blows, completely unhindered by the pegasus’s increasingly desperate counterattacks. The whole thing was over in an instant. But even as Silent Vigil pushed himself up, staggering my way, I knew it was over, that I had failed. I couldn’t believe it.
Yet, the cold, unfeeling reality sent him sprawling, falling to his side, a prominent red streak trailing across the white tile.
“Vigil!” I yelled, running to his side. “Hang in there!”
“No…. The wounds... they’re too deep. You have to go.”
“Don’t say that. I can’t leave you behind.”
“There’s too many… You… you have to run! Live… and show them they… can’t just do what they want.”
I knew he was right. I hated it. I couldn’t take on a horde of Cartel thugs. Neither was I strong enough to carry him.
Sparing one last glance, I whispered, “I’m sorry,” before turning toward the door.
Only to come face-to-face with Summer Leaf. She grinned wickedly.
Something inside me snapped, rage welling up. “You! This is all your fault!”
“So what if it is? What are you going to do about it?”
I lunged. I had no chance, yet I didn’t care—anger was all that drove me. Despite the size difference, I pushed her off balance, slamming her into the wall. I brought my wingblade up, sinking it into her soft belly. Again and again. All I could see was red. Was it blood?
As I tired, the walls began to melt away, taking everything else with them. Except for the cackling, echoing laugh.
“Just… like… me…”
My eyes snapped open. Everything was dark. Slowly sitting up, I remembered where I was. I squinted as I stared across the room. The secret passage was still securely in place. Letting out a quiet sigh, I shifted into a more comfortable position. There was little sleep to be had now.
---
The rest of the night was quiet, as was the remaining distance to Ponyville. I figured we were now too close to Canterlot for them to be moving too brazenly. Still, there were plenty of places to hide in a town. As such, I had us touch down at the edge of Whitetail Woods, using the trails to cover our approach.
Spying on the town from the underbrush proved to be rather limited. I’d expected as much, but it at least told me the outskirts were clear. Mint volunteered to go in first, confident that she wouldn’t be recognized. After last night, I almost told her, ‘no’. But the rational side of me knew there was no other way. Sitting out here indefinitely would just get us surrounded.
By now, the market was well underway, giving me a relative sense of normalcy as the silhouettes flickered in and out of existence around the stands. I found my eyes drifting behind us, watching, listening for any sign that someone was taking advantage of our interest in the mundane.
It was then that I noticed Night casting a longing look out at the market. Stealing a quick nuzzle, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s… home.” He turned his gaze outward again. “I mean, we’re back… but it still feels like we’re so far away.”
“I know. But even here we can’t be too careful. Once Mint gets back and the market closes, we should be able to move quickly and reach the library before the sun sets without anyone seeing us.”
Night pondered a moment, then let out a low chuckle. “And it’s not just that. I mean, as silly as it sounds in the face of everything… our trip. It’s sorta… over now, isn’t it?”
I flashed him a reassuring smile. “One of many more to come, I promise.”
He slumped a little. “I just didn’t realize until now, how much I wanted to keep going.”
Wrapping a wing around him, I kept one eye behind us. “We will, in time.”
Leaning up against me, he stared off into the distance. “Dusky I… I want you to move in with me. Or, to move in with you. It doesn’t matter. I just… I can’t go back to sleeping alone.”
“I assumed we would move in together, what with getting married and all.” I smirked a little. “There’s still a lot that needs to be done first.”
Night stiffened, a touch of blush spreading across his cheeks. “R-right, right. Of course. Sorry.”
Stealing a quick peck on his muzzle, I smiled again. “Nothing to be sorry about. I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but I appreciate you seeing it through with me.”
“For better, or worse Dusky. I… I knew what I was getting into when I asked that question. This trip has been wonderful… and terrifying. It’s been beautiful, and breathtaking, and exhausting. But even now, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything, Dusky. Thank you.”
I leaned in, giving him one more kiss, holding it for as long as I dared—which was little more than a moment or two. “Thank you, Night Light. I’m glad the rough patches didn’t put you off.”
In turn he gave me a sappy look and a nod.
Glancing back at the market, I added, “Assuming nothing’s wrong, Mint should be back from scouting soon. Another hour or so and we can head in.”
The library’s back room was deathly silent, save for the slow crawl of parchment over wood. The scroll was longer than I remembered—whether that be because of my nerves or just not giving it a good enough look back at Ivory’s hut, I couldn’t be certain. Not hovering was hard. Fighting back the urge to pace wasn’t any easier. Only repeatedly telling myself that doing either would be detrimental to Twilight’s concentration allowed me to barely remain still.
There was a little detail Ivory had mentioned that was boring itself deep into the back of my mind: that the spells were complicated enough that I might need multiple unicorns. Of course, I had confidence in Twilight, that she was the most powerful in her field. The caveat there was that even the best have an upper limit. One pegasus can’t very well quell a raging storm on her own. And being a non-unicorn, my ability to judge magical prowess versus spell requirements was more than a little limited. I had little doubt that Merri and Star would help as necessary, but there was one thought that sat high above the others. What if I’ve drastically misjudged the situation?
If we needed more unicorns, I had no idea where I could get more that I trusted. While there was Terra, I was very reluctant to put her directly in harm’s way. Even if we didn’t need anyone else, every bit of magic my friends had to put into the spells meant less magic they could draw on to protect themselves. If these spells were especially draining, they were at greater risk than I initially thought.
That was why I needed to know every little detail: if my plan got everyone killed again, I couldn’t bear it.
Twilight looked up and I met her gaze, hopeful.
“How’s it look?” I asked.
“Complicated. But some of that comes from the old style of spell composition. If I make adjustments to the flux of the planar binding, then I should be able to manage this on my own.” Twilight pondered a moment. “Who wrote this, anyway?”
I paused for a second, wondering how much I should say. The notion was a little ridiculous, for Twilight was probably one of the few people I could trust to be impartial in judging people for being non-mainstream. “My friend, Ivory. You probably haven’t heard of her, though. She lives far away and doesn’t really have access to modern academia.”
“I see.” Twilight looked at the scroll again for a moment. “I’m surprised. Some of this material is the kind I’d expect to see from a scholar with access to the restricted sections of the Canterlot Archives.”
“Yeah, um…” I scuffed a hoof. “Well, let’s just say she’s got a knack for that kind of thing.”
Tilting her head a little, concern spread across Twilight’s face. It disappeared as quickly as it came. “I trust your judgment Dusky. Which makes me even more curious.”
“When we have more time, I promise.”
My ears shot up as the creak of the library door opening reached me. Springing to my hooves, I slid over to the wall shared by this room and the main room. There was only one absent person who had a key at this point, but this was a situation where I couldn’t be too careful.
“I-I, um…” Night’s voice wavered in just the right way that I could hear the colour filling his cheeks. “... found a filly who fell upon a fuchsia futon.”
A small smirk formed on my lips. I felt a bit bad, but we’d needed something distinct fast and the foal’s section just happened to be closest at the time. Stepping out slowly, just to be certain, I waved a hoof at Night, Mint, Merri and Star. “Welcome back.”
Night turned a sheepish smile my way. “Thanks.”
“Now that we are in private,” Star glanced around, “what are we fighting?”
“Er, well, it’s something rather unusual: a banshee,” I said, fully aware that, were I not talking to my friends, I would have sounded insane.
Star blinked. “I… beg your pardon?”
“She said a banshee. Geez, Sis’, pay attention.” Merri poked a forehoof into Star’s side, eliciting a glare.
“I know that.” Star’s horn glowed, pushing Merri’s hoof away. “That is just not something I expected to hear in Equestria. Vengeful spirits are a very Ostfriesen problem. Are you sure your bloodline does not extend back to our people, Dusky?”
Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but smirk, if only a little. “I have no idea. I also have no idea if that would be more or less helpful. Perhaps I can ask my mom when this is all over, but for now, we should focus.”
“So, what’s the plan, then?” Mint eagerly stepped forward. I hesitated for a second, taken aback by her enthusiasm, despite my own—or perhaps because of it. With my friends here and the end in sight, I felt bold, like I could take on anything, and finally put an end to this. It was a dangerous thought, to be so ready to fight and snuff someone out. It unsettled me to the core, the remnants of my twisted safe house dream lingering at the back of my mind.
Just like me.
I shook it off, forcing myself to focus. “As far as tactics go, it’s pretty simple: we corner the banshee and defeat her. On the magical side, well, I’ll let Twilight explain that.”
“First, I’ll have to construct a parallel artificial plane, then apply a planar summoning to allow and the banshee to materialize in that realm. Following that, I’ll have to apply several essence-binding enchantments to the plane, which will bind you and the banshee.” Twilight’s gestures became less and less coherent as she tried to illustrate the links and layers and… whatever else she was talking about.
Star nodded along the entire time, but the others were left staring dumbly ahead—Merri less so than Night or Mint, but I still had a feeling this stuff wasn’t exactly her field of expertise. I tapped Twilight on the shoulder. “Uh, Twilight, as much as I enjoy hearing the details, perhaps they could wait until we’re in a less dangerous situation?”
“Oh! Right, of course!” Twilight cleared her throat. “The short version is I’m building a small, temporary area for me to trap the banshee. The rest will be up to you, since maintaining so many spells at once will take all my concentration.”
“Clever.” Star gave Twilight a look of unusual excitement. “How will we signal you when we are finished?”
“I’ll be able to monitor the battle, since I’ll need to bind myself to it in order to do all this. However, my binding will only be partial, so I won’t be able to interact with anything.” Twilight’s hooves were picking up momentum again, but abruptly stopped as something hit her. “Oh, and I’ll need someone to keep any distractions away. If the spells break and the bindings come undone incorrectly, it could cause catastrophic damage to our spirits. This includes the banshee, but given what you’ve told me, I don’t think she’ll be too concerned about that.”
My blood froze. “I… this is really dangerous. Is everyone sure about this?”
Merri was the first to move, letting out a short laugh as she wrapped a hoof around my withers. “You’re really asking this after what happened in The Forge?”
I mustered the barest bit of a smile. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“I agree,” Star said. “Aside from the fact that we owe you, it would not be right to abandon a friend.”
“And I knew what I was getting into when I proposed,” added Night. “I’m staying.”
“Proposed already~?” Merri’s grin threatened to consume her ears. “Night, you casanova~.”
“Sister, not right now.”
Mint cleared her throat. “If my baby brother decided you’re family, then guess what? I’m protecting my family.”
Twilight flashed me a grin. “Now this feels more than a little familiar. As Dash would say, no way am I going to leave you hanging.”
“Thanks, everyone.” I felt a bit of dampness forming at the corners of my eyes. “I guess we should get back to the plan. This won’t be an easy fight, but I think our best bet is to end things as quickly as possible. To that end, I want to outnumber her as much as we dare without putting Twilight in undue danger.”
“I shall stay, then,” Star said. “The rest of you go to the parallel plane.”
“By yourself? Are you sure?” I glanced between Star and Twilight.
“Do not worry about me. We are in the heart of the most guarded part of Equestria, with a plan the enemy will have little time to react to.” A wicked grin spread across Star’s face. “Plus, I know a glyph or two that such hooligans will find to be a rather nasty surprise, should they think they can overwhelm me.”
Twilight nodded. “If that’s the case, I have no objections.”
“Right.” I took a deep breath. “What’s our first step?”
“Come to the back. I’ll need about an hour for the first component, but you’ll have to stand in the circle.”
---
My entire world was white—not that I had eyes to see it with. The whole experience was bizarre, like I’d been disassembled and packed into a box. But there was no pain. In fact, there was no feeling at all, not even numbness. I just wasn’t. And then I was again.
As my existence resumed, I found myself standing on a shimmering purple floor. It extended in all directions as far as I could see, motes of purple bleeding off the surface, seemingly at random. Above was a dome of a similar colour, its clouded walls slowly swirling like a brewing storm.
Night winked into existence beside me. For a moment, he looked startled, almost frantic, but as our eyes met, his stance grew firmer. “Th-that was…”
“Yeah.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how to describe it, either.”
“Whoa!” Mint was suddenly standing in front of us. She gave her whole body a shake. “Okay! Everything’s still there. That’s good.”
Finally, Merri appeared, a contemplative look on her face, though one that seemed almost entirely unconcerned with her journey. “Huh. So, that’s what Sis’ meant.”
“Meant about what?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, just some of Sis’s magic theory mumbo jumbo.” Merri grinned. “I’ve always been more of a hooves on learner~.”
“If you say so.” I felt a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. “Now that we’re all here, we’ve got a job to do.”
“How?” Night glanced all around us. “There’s nothing for miles.”
Mint shrugged. “I bet if we start walking, make a little noise, Summer Leaf’s bound to find us.”
I followed Night’s gaze. “Yeah, that’s probably our best—maybe even only—option. Stay on your guard.”
And so we began, four little blots intermingled with some kind of unending light show. After a few minutes, something appeared on the horizon. It was another purple light, though much bigger than any of the errant motes. Though there was no breeze, it swayed and flickered like a flame on a windy day.
Exchanging a couple glances, we pushed ahead. Time passed more slowly, getting bogged down in nerves, but we soon found the source of the flame: a low brazier, made of the same purple light shards as the floor. Another minute and we could see a figure within the flame: Twilight. She floated right in the middle, as though it were the most natural thing to do, eyes closed in concentration.
“That’s… weird.” I said. “Though, I suppose not much weirder than the whole concept of wandering off into an alternate dimension to kill a ghost.”
“I think she’s trying to keep things simple.” Merri let out a chuckle. “This whole place is imaginary. It could look like whatever she wanted. Fancier means more places to hide. But, looks like she couldn’t resist a little symbolism~.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but a glint up in the sky caught my attention. It approached with meteoric speed, reaching Twilight almost before I realized it was there. The cold steel of a blade, led the way for a green blur as it sought to cleave Twilight in two. In a way, she succeeded: both flame and unicorn parting like water, returning to exact position once her assailant had passed. As Summer Leaf turned her gaze toward us, she flipped her head, impaling her long machete into the floor, cutting through the hardened light as though it were paper.
“So she’s not as stupid as she looks.” The large earth pony spat before turning a deathly glare upon me. “But she’ll get hers once I’m done with you.”
I shook my head. “Aren’t you tired of this?”
Her expression didn’t change. “No shit. Which is why this is the day I end you.”
“And then what? Keep killing until the world drowns in blood?”
“If that’s what it takes to put our enemies in their place.” After a moment, she started laughing. It was hollow, bitter, almost insane. “Don’t give me that look. You know what it’s like to leave bodies in your wake to get what you want.”
I gritted my teeth. “It’s not because I want to. I only do it to protect those closest to me.”
“Just like we help ours.” Summer Leaf grinned wickedly. “Only difference is we’re on opposing sides.”
Merri let out a loud, echoing snort—half laughter, half derision. “As if. Last I checked, Dusky doesn’t go out and terrorize ponies for fun and profit.”
“Yeah! You’re nothing but a common bully!” Mint almost growled, cracking her forehooves. “And I hate bullies.”
“Comparing Dusky to a monster like you?” There was a seething edge to Night’s voice, giving me the odd impression he might be even more offended than me. “Could you be any more wrong?”
“Bully? Monster? Get out of your ivory tower, you judgmental little shits.” Summer Leaf tossed her head. “You think you’re the only ones who care about anything?”
“I understand if you hate me.” I tilted my head. “But I wonder, what about those you’ve wronged in turn?”
Summer Leaf waved her hoof as though she were batting a fly away. “Bah, too bad for them. If they were smart, they would have chosen the winning team.”
Casting a sideways glance at my allies, I narrow my eyes. “Then I could say the same about Autumn Leaf.”
“You!” Summer Leaf was already flying through the air, machete glinting in her mouth. For just a moment, I worried that I’d miscalculated, but I backstepped just in time to avoid having my skull split in two.
I brought my wingblade up, aimed straight at her throat. But she already had her own blade in the way, parrying each of my strikes. My friends moved in to surround her, but as they did, she became a blur, a paradoxical barrier of herself that never let a hoof in. I pressed her again—this kind of defense should be impossible to keep up, if only we could pressure her a little more.
But again and again, she repelled her assault. And I began to worry that it would be us who tired first.
“Dusky! Now!” Mint shouted as she threw her whole body into what had become an ethereal green ball. Even though Mint seemed to merely deflect off of it, I lunged, slashing at my best guess of where Summer Leaf’s neck would be—to no avail. Opposite to me, Night found about as much success.
That was when I realized that Merri was no longer part of our assault: she’d taken a couple steps back, and turned as though she were ready to circle. There was just a brief moment where Summer Leaf, finding nothing to block, became a coherent shape again.
Merri’s crossbow hovered up from behind her flank. Twang!
The screech that followed was utterly alien, a chill howl that passed under my skin and rattled my innards. But the bolt had found Summer Leaf’s chest. I couldn’t waste the opportunity. Still shaking from the banshee’s cry, I leapt forward, my blade pointed straight at her throat. But by the time I’d reached her, she was, what I can only describe as, melting. Steel passed straight through. And as Merri’s bolt clattered to the ground, Summer Leaf was gone.
“Don’t let your guard down!” I spun, keeping an eye on the air above us.
“Call her out if you see her!” Mint added.
“R-right!” Night answered.
When Merri didn’t reply, I turned back to her. She seemed off-balance, like she’d been hit. But there was no blood and no Summer Leaf in sight. “Merri! You okay?”
“Yeah. Something just threw me. That’s all.” Merri shook her head. “I’m fine now.”
“What’s wrong?” Summer Leaf’s voice echoed, coming from every direction at once. “Afraid of the dark?”
“Seems to me you’re the one who’s afraid!” Mint retorted.
“Really? When you’re always worrying about losing me?” a deep stallion’s voice called out. Mint’s eyes widened a little as she took a step back. But her stance quickly became resolute again.
“Even you, Merriweather.” Star’s voice was next. “You hide behind ridiculousness because you can’t bear to think about it.”
Before Star’s voice could finish echoing, Night’s added, “It’s why you told me not to be a hero. You’re afraid of everyone dying around you.”
“That’s why you’ll throw yourself away,” said a voice that sounded far too much like mine. “Everypony is worth more than you!”
“Trying a little too hard, are we?” Merri called back.
“Get on with it!” Mint deepened her stance, beckoning to the empty air.
“Fine.” “Fine.” “Fine.” “Fine.”
I whirled, just in time to deflect Night’s blow. I gritted my teeth. It’s not Night. This is not Night. This is not Night.
Even so, I found myself instinctively pulling my strikes. Thankfully, the training worked both ways and I had no issues deflecting his seemingly endless stream of wing and hoove blows.
I waited patiently, looking for an opening. And when he raised his wing, I came in fast, ramming my head into his ribs, then backstepping before he could clip me. Or so I thought. I reeled, pain spreading up my own side from his traded blow.
Falling back a little, I chastised myself for getting sloppy. I began to push his blows aside more forcefully, looking for a chance to throw him completely off balance.
“Ah!” Merri’s voice echoed. I wanted to look, but knew better than to let my eyes wander from my opponent. I needed to find a decisive blow more than ever. But before I could do anything rash, Merri called out again, “Pace yourself! She has some kind of thorn magic!”
Thorn? It took a moment before the implications fully hit me. Suddenly, everything became that much clearer. This was surely a way to prevent fatal blows, whether a follow up or disrupting the final stroke itself. If we couldn’t kill her, then our loss through attrition was inevitable.
Think, Dusky! You can’t block forever!
Falling back more and more didn’t seem to be working. Despite the gratuitous amount of energy involved in closing the distance and raining down blows, he didn’t seem to be slowing down. There was no outpacing him.
Retreating one more time, I just about tripped over myself, instead sloppily rolling away from the barrage. Then it hit me: perhaps there was a loophole I could abuse.
As Not Night came in again, I stepped in close, slipping a rear hoof behind his and ramming into his side. A dull pain rolled across my own ribs and I staggered away, bracing myself. But as Not Night crashed to the ground, tumbling across the purple light, I felt nothing.
I had a goal now as I closed in. He leapt to his hooves, charging at me once more. The opportunity came sooner than expected: the third of a barrage went high, overextending. Stepping right up against him, I got as low as possible, then threw my body up, taking care not to push against any tender spots.
With a loud cry, Not Night tumbled over my back, crashing face first into the ground behind me. Seizing the moment, I darted forward, pinning him with my forehooves and bringing my wingblade down across his throat. I almost hesitated. That look of fear. On his face. Not his face!
“Dus… ky… wh…”
“You’re not him. You’re not him!” I screamed. “You’re an insult to him!”
Even as Not Night faded into a ghost-like mist that quickly vanished entirely, the visage stuck with me. I felt sick. Between the pain in my own throat and the reflexive boulder in my stomach, I could have puked for a week. This whole thing was sick.
But I didn’t have time for that. My friends were still at risk. Clenching my teeth, I pushed through, letting some of my anger drive me, focus me on finishing off Summer Leaf.
Merri was also already alone, and looking a bit better than me. I suspected it might have had something to do with the pale silver orb that encased her. She was headed to my left, where Mint was battling a stallion whose green coat was just a touch lighter than hers. I almost wanted to join her, to charge in, but there was still someone missing.
I turned, looking for Night—for the real Night. Instead, I came face to face with myself, before she crashed straight into me. We tumbled end over end, half-flailed punches coming out each time one of us found solid ground. Most of them missed, which was probably for the best.
We were an inelegant tangle that I’m certain must have looked like some kind of abomination with two sets of the same mare protruding from all the wrong places. This also presented the problem of our range. I couldn’t keep her at hoof’s length, but I couldn’t completely stop defending myself, which quickly devolved into feeling sore in every inch of my body. Thankfully, she seemed intent on rather roughly matching my intensity. Otherwise, I might have just passed out then and there.
As we spun again, I caught Night, out of the corner of my eye, standing there, lost as he stared at us. “W-who... who do I help?”
“It’s… me, Night!” called the fake Dusky.
“She’s lying!” I didn’t know why I tried to gainsay it. It was a waste of energy when they couldn’t tell us apart. I suppose by that point, the adrenaline, the instinct, it was too much to resist.
Fake me’s wingblade came half an inch away from taking a chunk out of my muzzle.
“Hit her, Night!” Mint shouted.
“Which?” Night's voice shook, with him on the verge of tears.
“Both!”
“What?! Are you crazy?!” Those were definitely tears.
“Damnit, Night! Merri, follow my lead!”
A burst of red sent me and the fake Dusky flying apart, with the aura barely holding her at bay. At the same time, Mint hit me, tossing me over her much like I’d done to Not Night. I gasped as I slammed into the floor, all air escaping.
Unceremoniously, Mint wound up her foreleg, laying a hard kick straight into my flank.
“G-gah! M… Mint!” I screamed.
And with that, she was barreling off. The fake me had nearly wriggled free of Merri’s magic when Mint slammed straight into her. I knew I had to seize the opportunity, but damn if I didn’t feel like I’d just been picked up and shaken out like a throw rug. As I tried to steady my vision long enough to get upright, Night appeared over me.
“S-sorry…” he said.
“For what? Know what, never mind. We’ll worry about it after,” I said as I got my hooves underneath me. I stood quickly—perhaps a bit too quickly. My legs wobbled as I tried to make my way over to the other me, where Mint had her pinned. Thankfully, Night obliged by helping brace me, though I thought I caught a bit of red streaming down his leg.
At last, our limping got us over to what was presumably Summer Leaf. Standing there, looking down at the me who was not me, I realized, darkly, that I was about to slit my own throat and live to tell the tale.
Under all the blood and gurgling, the form shifted, becoming Summer Leaf, eyes filled with hate even then. Like with Not Night, she began to disintegrate, though this mist was thicker, tinted a greenish grey. It fled toward the ceiling, shedding bits of fading mist as it went, until there was nothing left.
I turned away and promptly lost my lunch. It was all I could do to stagger back to collapse in a place that was not sticky and gross.
“Did we… did we get it?” Mint limped over, keeping an eye out as she glanced down at me. Now that things weren’t so frantic, I could see that her left cheek had a nice, big, swollen bump in the middle of it.
“Its magic is gone now,” Merri said as she appeared beside Mint. Aside from a mane that looked like it had had a couple dozen balloons rubbed against, she didn’t look too bad off. “It’d be pretty hard to come back from that.”
“Then… we did it. We did it, Dusky.” Night collapsed beside me, feebly reaching up a forehoof to give me as much of a hug as he could muster.
“So it seems.” I smiled weakly, leaning against him with little more energy. “Let’s go home.”
Just the thought of going to the clinic made me feel awkward. In a bigger city, I might have been able to present 'bar fight' as a valid excuse for our injuries. Here, it would simply raise more questions. We could have simply tried to treat the injuries ourselves, but I wasn’t taking any chances on the cut from the extraplanar ghost knife on Night’s leg. Not after the last, seemingly minor, magical injury just about killed him.
I briefly entertained the idea of asking Twilight about her healing spell, but one look at her sagging body was all I needed to decide it wouldn’t be right. In fact, had she not assured me that this was the perfectly normal result of a unicorn who had exhausted her magic reserves, I might have insisted she come with us. We settled on Star staying behind to keep an eye on things while Merri escorted the rest of us to the clinic.
Flight helped minimize the strain Night had to put on his leg, though he did eventually have to get his hooves back on the ground to enter the clinic proper. As we staggered in, I could already feel the tired eyes of Nurse Redheart judging us. She squinted at us, a clear demand for explanation. The best I could think of in my addled state was ‘magical accident’, though before I could open my mouth, Mint stepped up.
“Guard business. Any open wounds have been caused by magic.”
Though Nurse Redheart seemed to relax a little, turning to rummage through the medical cabinets, it wasn’t until Mint flashed her badge that she stopped casting us wary glances.
As expected, Nurse Redheart zeroed in on Night, calling for a bed to get him off his hooves. There was that moment, where I was following close behind and he was giving me apologetic looks, that I had that feeling of deja vu. Any level of scrutiny would have caused that feeling to fall apart—what with the situation being more or less my fault—but under the blanket of way too much fatigue, I just couldn’t help feeling bizarrely amused. Night met my gaze, that same realization writ upon his face.
We were led into one of the larger side rooms, where Nurse Redheart began checking Night over, while her assistant quickly procured a small, square device. As he brought it closer, I caught a glimpse of a screen. Attached to the side was a long, curly cord that ended in what looked like a pen. As Nurse Redheart waved the pen over Night’s leg, the device emitted a low, crackly sound, like gravel crunching beneath hooves.
She made several circuits around his leg before sending her assistant back to the cabinets. Turning to Night, she said, “The good news is that there isn’t enough residue to be life threatening.”
Relief spread across Night’s face, though I could see his ears very slowly drooping. “What’s the bad news?”
“It’s a pretty deep cut that isn’t entirely free of residue. In the very least, you’ll need stitches. I’d also like to monitor you overnight. This magic is very likely to dissipate by then, but if it doesn’t, I’ll need to have the doctor examine you.”
Night shrunk a little, perhaps unsure how to feel. I know I didn’t find the condition on the magic dissipation to be particularly reassuring. Slowly, he nodded his head.
With that, Nurse Redheart turned the device toward me. At this point, I had to fight back the urge to shuffle around. I don’t even know why the device made me so nervous. Perhaps I was afraid of this evening’s toll. As with Night, it didn’t deviant from its steady blipping.
“Same case for you,” Nurse Redheart said. “Minus the stitches. Your cuts are rather shallow, but numerous. I would like to monitor you overnight to ensure they aren’t a collective issue.”
By now, the assistant had finished up up with Night and trotted up beside Nurse Redheart. “Shall I prepare another bed?”
“Please,” replied Nurse Redheart. “Now as to the rest of you…”
---
I’d never thought I could sleep so soundly on a hospital bed, but everyone’s injuries being relatively minor set my mind at ease. While Mint had a few additional bruises along her barrel, none were worse than the bump on her cheek, for which Nurse Redheart gave her an ice pack.
Merri had a couple nicks along the front of her muzzle, just before her check. They were so minute that I barely noticed them until Nurse Redheart pointed them out. Similarly, there was very light bruising along her withers and back—a testament to the effectiveness of her barding.
I couldn’t remember what I dreamt, but when I woke, I remembered two distinct feelings. The first was a lingering dullness that made me realize just how much I’d grown used to sleep putting me on edge. The second was loneliness. I wasn’t quite sure why. I certainly didn’t miss Summer Leaf’s hauntings, that’s for sure. Perhaps I’d grown too used to the presence of Princess Luna. For someone of her prowess, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she didn’t even need to reveal herself to make herself felt.
Groggily, I pushed myself to a sitting position. After blinking a couple times to focus, I turned to my left, glancing at Night’s bed. He was still laying down, resting, saving energy so he could give me his trademark dopey grin.
“Morning, beautiful. You, um, look like you slept well.”
“Just a bit. Flatterer.” I met his smile. By now, the fog of sleep had fully lifted, leaving the general, dull ache of stiff muscles. I leaned forward, then stretched side to side, doing what little I could in such a cramped space. As I turned to my right, I caught a glimpse of the visitor chairs: Mint and Merri were still here, sleeping rather awkwardly in the plastic seats. Though they’d been discharged, they insisted on staying to keep an eye on us—understandably so, given the circumstances. Turning back left, my eyes fell on his bandaged foreleg. “How are you doing?”
He lifted his leg rather slowly, flexing and unflexing it a few times. “Fine. Barely feel it, now. I’ll be fine in no time.”
“Good.” We’d gotten lucky this time. Granted, there theoretically shouldn’t be a next time, but there was just one thing nagging at the back of my mind. Hopefully, when Merri woke and had a chance to get settled, I could get it all sorted out.
Night shifted a bit, extending his neck over the side of the bed. “Hey… I’ll be fine. This isn’t your fault, if anything, it’s my fault. I… sorta screwed up again. I‘m… sorry I couldn’t do more to help.”
“I’m sorry you had to be involved, and that you got hurt.” This was the whole thing I’d been trying to avoid from the start.
He looked down, but not soon after, a chuckle escaped his lips. “Some pair we are… always apologizing for… for things that aren’t our fault. It’s not like you wanted me to get stabbed, or… or that I wanted to get stabbed.”
“No, but I still feel bad you had to go through this.”
“Well, don’t feel bad. I feel bad for… for you having to end things the way you had to. I should have been stronger… but I couldn’t hurt you, even when I knew it wasn’t you.”
I shook my head. “Well, don’t feel bad for that either. That whole thing was just… weird in general.”
“Then we’re agreed?” A smile was starting form on his lips.
I raised an eyebrow. “Agreed to what?”
Night reached a full-on grin. “Not to feel bad. We… you did it. You’re free.”
That nagging feeling gripped me again. “I hope so.”
“Dusky… just remember, I love you. I’m here for you. No matter what.” He shifted again, this time reaching out his hoof.
“Love you too, Night Light.” I mustered a smile, leaning out to meet him. It was a bit of a stretch, but our hooves just barely touched.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Merri crack a lid. It slipped shut again as I turned her way. I breathed deep, then let it all out. Time to face my fear. “You can stop pretending to sleep now, Merri, I’ve got a question.”
Merri’s eye opened again, this time with a deliberate slowness. “Aw, how’d you know? I was kinda hoping you two were gonna start making out. Night’s been watching you for awhile, I almost figured he was gonna climb into bed and at least snuggle with ya, Dusky. I considered it myself, but Flurry’s sis’ here is pretty fluffy~.”
Colour flooded Night’s cheeks. “I… what? You and Mint… I... H-how long have you been watching me?”
“Hmm. Don’t know. How long were you watching her~?” Merri leaned forward and fluttered her eyes.
I shook my head. “Not now, Merri. I need to know something.”
“Err, sure. What’s up?”
“Could you close the door first?” I asked.
“Right!” Merri spun as she stood, just about ramming muzzle-first into her sister.
Star stepped back through the doorway. “Merriweather! Pay attention!”
“Oh, hi, Sis’! Good timing!” Merri flashed Star a silly grin. “Dusky has serious questions and you know how good I am at those.”
Rolling her eyes, Star stepped past, shutting the door behind her. “Is something the matter?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” I sighed. “But first, how did things go on your end?”
“Not a peep. If they had anyone in place, they retreated when their leader was defeated. Do not worry about Twilight Sparkle—I left her in the care of Rainbow Dash.”
“Right. Then… Merri, when we defeated the banshee, you said that it would be difficult for her to come back from that. Does that mean…” I swallowed, “...that she could be back someday?”
“Nope.” Merri shook her head, then thought for a second. “Not usually, when it comes to banishment spells, anyway. I guess there have been some cases where it didn’t work, but, uh… hey, Sis’, you wanna take over?”
Star sighed. “What would you ever do without me? When a spirit is affected by a banishment spell, it finds itself unable to interact with anything for a long period of time. While there have been reports of spirits with a particularly seething hatred returning for another bout, for the most part, thirty or forty years is a long enough hint to move on. However, Merriweather, what have I told you about casting spells without proper study first?”
“Huh?” Merri tilted her head for a moment before suddenly straightening. “Oh! You think I did it. Nope, wasn’t me.”
Star narrowed her eyes. “Do not lie to me, Merriweather. I appreciate that you mean well, but putting everypony in danger like that is not a commendable act.”
“Um, can someone fill me in here?” I glanced between the two sisters.
Clearing her throat, Star said, “Banishment magic is a very fine art. Even in Ostfriesen, only the most powerful of unicorns have a natural affinity for it. While our knight academy covers the barest of the basics, the rest of us must spend well over a decade studying at the Exorcist’s Guild if we hope to master a spell such as what Merriweather cast.”
Merri frowned. “I’m telling you, I didn’t!”
“If not you, then who?” Star tapped a hoof.
“I just assumed Twilight did it.” Merri gave a bit of a shrug. “She’s got an affinity for all magic, right?”
“While that is correct, did you forget that she was busy concentrating on the planar spells?” Star turned to me. “Was a banishment spell in the plan?”
“No, not from what Twilight told me.” I shook my head.
“That is troubling.” Star’s frown deepened. “Such powerful magic does not simply appear from thin air.”
Mint, who had just been studying Merri and Star up until this point, stood. “Are you sure we didn’t have anypony else helping us? Did you send for anypony else? Maybe they arrived late?”
I shook my head again. “Only those who Night contacted.”
“And you were with me the whole time.” Night chimed in.
“That’s true.” Mint scrunched her face. “What about Twilight? Did she send for anypony?”
“Not as far as I know,” I replied. “She was rushed enough with the spell preparations.”
“Ivory?” Night asked.
“If her reach was that long, I doubt we would have had this issue in the first place. The ward would have also long lost its power.” It was then that one name came to me, yet something didn’t seem quite right. “Maybe…”
“Dusky?” Night’s voice brought me back to reality. “Maybe what?”
Since I had no real answer, I simply let my thought process tumble out. “Well, sometimes, when I was having my nightmares, Princess Luna would do little things to alter their course. I rarely even knew she was there until after I woke up, but I think I owe my sanity to her. I guess I wonder if she could have had a hoof in this. She certainly has the power, but… I don’t know. We were on an imaginary plane, which technically isn’t the dream world, right, Star?”
“You would be correct.” Star took a moment to think. “However, I would certainly think it within the realm of possibility that she could access it if she decided she really wanted to. At this point, there really does not seem to be any other logical explanation.”
“Ugh, then why does it feel like we’re trying to fit a square peg into a round hole?”
---
With no satisfying answer, my brain was left to stew in itself. We spent a while just chatting, which helped keep me distracted from my creeping worry. Merri was now dating a coworker of mine, which she was only too happy to provide a little bit of TMI on. Aside from that, Terra had apparently gotten pregnant on her honeymoon, only recently alerted by the day-to-day side effects. I made a mental note to go see her once Night was out of the hospital.
I was already a bit loathe to leave his side, but I needed to check in at my apartment to make sure everything was still okay. And besides that—if I was going to be hanging around Night all day and night for the next day or two, I really needed to take a shower.
Of course, the visit would have to be short. I was already delaying my return to Pasture by longer than I would have liked, but there was no way I was going to force Night to travel without giving his leg a proper chance to heal.
As I slid the door shut behind me, I turned on the light, ignoring the pile of what was likely ninety-percent junk mail on the floor for the moment. After shrugging my flight satchels onto my living room table, I let myself slump down for a second, taking a few deep breaths. Is this really what victory is supposed to feel like?
The plop of paper on paper made me whirl. The mail slot was already closed, but a fresh white envelope was now sitting upon the junk mail.
That’s… odd. It’s a bit late for mail.
Trotting over, I scooped the envelope up, weighing it carefully on my wing. There couldn’t be more than a single page inside. Flipping it over, I caught a glimpse of the seal, and felt myself pale: it was a picture of a heavy steel lockbox.
This… he never sends anything to anyone!
Resisting the urge to tear it right open, I carefully broke the seal, then opened the flap with equal measure. Inside was a business card, the same lockbox printed on the front, though this time it was in colour. On the rear side was a message: The Seapony. 8:00PM.
Each minute left sitting in my apartment was like a vice grip slowly tightening around my head. It was only an hour until my meeting with Lockbox. But then again, it was a whole damn hour. Trying to imagine what he, personally, would have come here for unleashed the deepest recesses of my mind. It almost certainly had to do with the Cartel and it had to be big. Perhaps some kind of huge stealth raid, in which case I’d want to start warning my friends right away. Or perhaps, even worse, the Cartel had some way of always bringing Summer Leaf back and the battle was about to begin anew. Or maybe they’d somehow managed to find someone whose ruthlessness extended beyond even the worst of Summer Leaf and they want to come wipe me out to erase the mark left upon their name by my continued existence.
When pacing failed to do anything other than fill the room with sounds that were far too close to ‘tick tock’ for my liking, my eyes turned toward the pile of junk mail. All I needed was a distraction.
After very carefully separating out any bills, I started going through each other envelope, just in case there was anything that fell into a third category. The first was from Varga Tech, a medical company in Canterlot, who brazenly asked me, ‘Is your stallion having trouble satisfying you?’
‘Thunk!’ replied the waste basket.
The next was a small, perforated booklet, of which the front side proudly showed off a broad shot of Sugarcube Corner. Inside were a number of coupons for the rather standard deal of buying two and getting one free, followed by a couple sizable discounts for buying sugar cookies by the multiple dozen. I tossed that one onto the table, even though Pinkie had a reputation for providing the deals to anyone who asked, coupon or no.
Several envelopes later and I’d discarded an ad for bulk flowers, a half-dozen grocery fliers and no fewer than three offers for lines of credit. With a shake of my head, I moved on to the final envelope and blinked.
‘Spooks? Spectres? Ghosts? No problem!’ followed someone’s attempt at making the stereotypical white, bedsheet cartoon ghost look grotesque. The result mostly looked like someone had spilled lemonade on it while attempting to wrinkle the sheet. It hovered over a rather posh-looking two-story house. Above all that hung a bright red ‘Ghosttoasters’ logo. ‘Just send a telegram to or come visit our office at 666 Fountain Lane! Our courteous staff is there twenty-four hours a day to serve all your supernatural elimination needs! We’re ready to believe you!’
I chuckled darkly, wondering just how legit they really were. Even if they were, though, I somehow doubted they would have been prepared for how insane things got.
As the trash can got its tenth meal or so, I glanced up at the clock. Seven-forty. Close enough.
Packing up my bags, I headed out. I’d reach the Seapony before eight, but I’d rather wait a little after getting some air and moving my hooves than sit at home another ten minutes.
As I strode into the Seapony, I glanced around. No Lockbox and none of my friends. Both were easily explained, so I trotted up to the bar. Without a word, Barkeep slid me a cider, a card pinned between it and the coaster. I took a sip, noting the room number before slipping the card into my bag.
I wandered over to the back rooms, of which Lockbox had chosen one of the two at the very end. The door was slightly ajar, an invitation to slip in. Pushing the door shut, I moved toward the back, where Lockbox sat, red muzzle poking out from under those hazel locks.
“You’re early,” he said.
“Seems like a day for unusualness,” I replied.
“That it does.” He waited until I was seated. “This is something you need to hear ASAP, but I couldn’t send just anyone.”
“That sensitive, huh?” My stomach sank like it was filled with an Ursa Major. “How much?”
“Something like that.” He shook his head. “Consider this one a favour. There have been reports of a catastrophic forest fire out near Pasture.”
The words hit me like a buck to the face. “What?”
“There have been no reported deaths thus far.”
“That’s... good, I guess.” My heart calmed just the slightest, barely perceptible bit. If there was one good thing about Prideful Policy’s hatred of Ivory, if something had really happened, then he would have announced the news the moment he thought she was dead. “But how? Who?”
“The mayor has a new champion. Moss the Paladin, he calls himself, framing himself as a ‘born again’ ex-lieutenant of the Cartel. He and those who split from the Cartel proper have declared a crusade against the dark arts.”
Moss?! No, no, no, that can’t be right! Maybe… maybe it’s not the same person...
Lockbox let out a bit of a scoff. “Don’t believe it for a second, of course. Cartel don’t just change overnight. This guy’s just another warlord aiming to make himself look good for as long as it lasts—nothing more.”
My head spun. This was beyond bad. I shouldn’t have left Ivory alone. And this Moss guy, even if he wasn’t the one from her past, the moment word reached her, I knew she’d hesitate. I had to leave. Now.
Drawing in as deep a breath as I could muster, I said, “Thanks. You’re right, I did need to hear this. This is very dire news.”
“I know. I hope you catch a break some day.” Lockbox’s tone carried just the barest of sadness. “Before you go, there’s something else you should know. Something that adds more of a time limit.”
“Oh… now what happened?” I braced myself.
“The Guard has dispatched a unit to assess the situation. I couldn’t get any names. Seems someone is trying to keep a lid on things, which is never a good sign. Chances are, while whoever they send won’t be working for the mayor, you can also bet they won’t be nearly as discerning as you, should they happen upon your friend.”
It took all my willpower not to just turn and bolt out of there, take to the sky and head straight for Pasture. Squeezing out something of a nod, I said, “Thanks again, Lockbox. I… I have to go.”
“I know. Be careful.”
---
Spare wing blade, spare rations and the normal set of camping gear later, I was ready and heading out my door. I needed to hurry, as visiting hours were nearly over. Impulsively, I’d thought about just leaving a note and going straight to Pasture, but I couldn’t afford to be so reckless. Night deserved to know, to hear it from my mouth, for sure. But, I could also feel in my gut that this was it, the final moments of the powder keg that was Pasture before everything invariably exploded into confrontation. This was not something I could do without backup or a plan.
I held my composure as best I could, but I think even Nurse Redheart could see some level of distress. She assured me that Night was just fine and nothing major had happened to him. Rather than clarify, I simply gave her a grateful smile before proceeding to his room.
I knocked with what bordered on impatience before slipping in and shutting the door behind me. As he met my eyes, Night’s broad smile fell away—guilt struck my heart like a catapulted boulder.
“Dusky? What’s happening? What do we need to do?” He was ready to help. To put his all in. I didn’t quite know how to let him down. Regardless, he’d deserved to know what was going on.
“It’s Ivory. They burned the forest, and I’m certain they’re hunting her. I have to get back there.”
He sat up, clearly a little slower than he’d have liked. “They?”
I sighed as I trotted closer, lowering my voice, “The remnants of the Cartel. The ones allied to the mayor, who has held a grudge against her since before we even met.”
“Then we have to go.” Night stood quickly—too quickly. His foreleg buckled and while I didn’t think he was going to fall over, it was quite clear he wasn’t ready. Bracing a hoof against his withers, I helped him back into bed.
“No, Night. I need to go. You’re still injured.” Squeezing those words out was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. I could feel how much they hurt him even before it became visible on his face.
“Dusky… that’s… that’s not what I signed up for, and you know it. I owe Ivory for helping you, and even if I didn’t… I won’t just sit back and let you run off into danger. We’re in this together.”
I shook my head. “We are in this together, but we also have to be practical. I need to go now and get Ivory as quickly as I can. Once you’re better, I want to you follow, bringing whoever you can gather, and be ready.”
“Be ready? You’re... not just going to get Ivory, are you?”
I sighed. “Ideally, I would and that would be the end of it. But it’s not that simple. Pasture has been a powder keg for years. These ex-Cartel might just be the fire that sets it off.”
“Y-you’re not making me feel better about you going on without me.” His frown deepened.
I wrapped my forelegs around him, pulling him close. “I know. I wish things weren’t so dire, that I could wait. But, I can’t. And I know I can’t do it alone. That’s why I need you to bring backup so we stand a chance if the worst comes to pass.”
“How will we find you?” He asked, a waver to his voice, like he was afraid if he let me go, he wouldn’t see me again. To be fair, no matter my caution, there was certainly a non-zero possibility.
I’d already mulled over what I was going to say, the main problem being without a handle on the situation, I couldn’t know if any of the landmarks I knew were especially dangerous. “There’s an old, abandoned estate about a mile out of town, near the edge of the forest. One of the buildings there is an observatory. Once I’ve had a chance to look around and determine the safest place to meet, I’ll leave a message there.”
“Old observatory… okay.” Night let his head rest against mine as he digested things. “Then what?”
“If things are somehow simple, then Ivory and I will meet you in Iron Shoe. If not… we’ll need to improvise. I’ll try to gather as much information as I can while I’m searching for her.” I really wished I could have given him more. But, the fact of the matter was Pasture was practically a newly formed warzone. That Lockbox had gotten anything accurate out of it so quickly bordered on a miracle.
Night sighed. “I… I don’t like it. In fact, I hate it. Promise me you’ll be careful.”
Mustering as much of a smile as I could, I said, “I promise. I didn’t get this far by being reckless, after all.”
He planted a hoof into the foot of his bed. I understood his helplessness all too well. “D-damnit Dusky… you shouldn’t have to face things like this… not alone. … I… I promise you, when we’re back, when we finally have the time to breathe and be together… I—”
There were really no words, no amount of apologizing that could be adequate enough. Instead, I leaned in and kissed him, saying everything I wanted to all at once. I could tell he didn’t want it to end—neither did I. But, every moment I delayed brought things closer to catastrophe.
When I pulled away, he gave me the saddest look I’d ever seen. “I love you, Dusky. Stay safe.”
“You too, Night Light. Love you too.” I trotted over to the door, turning back just to give him one last glance. At that moment, it hit me again: this was the kind of pain I’d wanted to avoid pushing onto my friends. I stood there, held by the dread realization.
“I’ll… I’ll see you soon enough.” Night’s words freed me from my own thoughts, his brave face reminding me that he could take the pain. Tell Ivory… tell her that her friends are coming to help.”
Meeting every inch of his sad smile, I replied, “I will.”
While solo flight had few equals in terms of speed and versatility, I felt naked, vulnerable, lonely. I’d grown too used to traveling with everyone, especially Night. Even during the periods of silence, just an exchanged glance was comfort. But, today, my only company was anxiety, those creeping thoughts of dread.
I shrugged them off as best I could, reminding myself of Ivory’s strength. She was a survivor and the forest was hers. They would have to do more than start a fire to bring her down. Only thing was, the better hidden she was from them, the better hidden she was from me. Of course, I knew a place or two to start, but with the extremes her enemies had gone to, I seriously doubted she would fall back on the basics.
As I set down just outside of Iron Shoe, I already wished I was there in the forest, gathering information. Thankfully, I was not so stupid. I’d already pushed myself a little harder than I should have to make it so far so quickly. I needed to take advantage of this night to get something resembling a decent sleep. Pasture certainly wouldn’t be offering such hospitality.
A light drizzle pitter-pattered over the tall, flat roofs of the city. The ghost-like gloom that invariably followed dampened what little light remained of the day. Were I a more self-absorbed person, I might have wondered if the weather workers had heard I was coming and laid out some mood weather.
Walking the softening gravel path, I wondered if there was anything I should pick up. As a crossroads city on the somewhat larger side, Iron Shoe dealt rather heavily in both trade and craft. A quick trip to the market in the morning could net me any number of necessities. The more worried I became, the more inclined I was to double down on first aid supplies.
Steady, Dusky. Room first.
I picked up the pace a little, trotting toward the hotel district. If any passersby had actually been around to see me, I doubted they could blame anyone for running through the rain. As I proceeded further, the scarcity of people started to concern me. Even the weather and time of day couldn’t explain it all.
That was when two figures in golden armour stepped out of a nearby alleyway. It simultaneously did and did not remind me of the Guards’ pegasus armour. The form was more than inspired, sporting the same full back plating that ended in a spiral of sorts at the front. Instead of a blue star, the middle of the chest was emblazoned by a clump of green moss. The metal, however, was distinctly cheaper, with a more bronze colour to it. I supposed the first impression had come from a lucky glint off of the failing light.
The one on the right stepped forward and cocked his head. It looked a bit odd, like he wasn’t quite sure how to posture in armour. “Hey, lady.”
“Me?” I raised an eyebrow, but doing my best to appear unfazed.
“Yeah, you.” He took a few steps forward.
I stood my ground. If they’d wanted to start a fight right out in the open, there would have been much fewer words. Whatever they wanted, I decided I would play along, to get more of a grasp on their motives. And if nothing else, perhaps letting this spectacle continue would eventually attract the attention of the Guard. “You on your way to a parade?”
“Something like that. It got rained out.”
“That’s a shame.”
There was a long, awkward pause before he spoke again. “You could brighten my day.”
“Sorry, I don’t do one-night stands.” I flashed him a grim smirk.
“Hmph, your loss.” The stallion turned up his nose, to which the other raised an eyebrow and nudged him. “Er, I mean, whatever. That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Is that so? Care to enlighten me?”
His stare hardened, locking directly on me. “Turn around and walk away. Go home.”
“Excuse me?” I feigned surprise.
“We know who you are.” The confidence of his words genuinely caught me offguard, though I don’t think I betrayed anything to him. Not that the chances of him noticing seemed all that likely, as he seemed rather enraptured by his own speech. “But our boss is a gentle stallion. Stand aside and let us bring justice.”
I chastised myself for taking such a direct route. This wasn’t like with Summer Leaf, where she was constantly feeding her minions intelligence. They knew Ivory had a friend who would invariably respond to something as big as the burning of a forest. It wouldn’t have taken much thought to have someone watch the road for the next couple weeks. My haste could very well be my undoing.
“And just what does ‘justice’ entail?”
He narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to determine if I was stupid or playing him. “It’s a dark sorcerer. What do you think?”
“Putting aside your intentions for this sorcerer, you would have me leave town and wander the roads at night?” I played up my skepticism as much as possible.
“We have a place you will stay. We’ll see you out in the morning.”
“I already said I don’t do one-night stands. I’ll take the hotel instead, thanks.”
“That was not a suggestion.” He started a slow, stalking advance.
“So, what, you’re going to attack me in the street for all the Guard to see?”
“Who said the Guard would see anything?” He grinned smugly.
“Those Guards.” I pointed my hoof at the empty air behind them. They started and glanced behind them, at which point I bolted. The barest of smirks crossed my face. Guess their grasp isn't as strong as they'd like me to believe.
I was about a block away when I heard the shouting and beating of wings. I could have also flown, but there was nowhere to hide in the sky. At least, not within reachable distance. The thin rain clouds might have worked if I was able to get up there without them seeing me. No, my best chance was on the ground. I skidded as I banked left, dashing into the closest alleyway.
Never had I thought I would ever use the phrase ‘cursedly clean’, but that’s just what this alley was. Not a single crate, trash can or even trash bag to be seen. There was a bit of debris, but the only way I would have been able to hide under that was if I was a five-year-old filly. The worst part is that a high iron gate cut the alley in half, meaning I’d have to fly up over the roofs to get past it, completely defeating the point of even being in the alley.
I quickly scanned the walls, looking for a door I might be able to force. To my disappointment, each of the two doors were those heavy iron security doors. There’s no way I was getting through those without a battering ram.
The shouts were getting closer. If I bolted now, they’d almost certainly run me down. If I tried to fly now, my lower height would leave me about as vulnerable as griffon-stalked prey. Perhaps, if I simply stayed here, still and up against the wall, they’d miss me. If not, luring them here wouldn’t be so bad. Diving down would be difficult in here, making it possible for me to run out into the street and maybe get another lead.
“Psst!” A stallion’s voice almost sent me nine feet into the air.
Whirling toward the wall, I could see one of the doors was open just a crack, a tan muzzle poking out. I stared. “Who—?”
“There’s no time! Hurry!” He pushed the door open a little more, revealing that he had no weapons, nor any clothing under which to conceal any weapons, as well as what appeared to be a small back stockroom.
Still, I hesitated. He was trying to make himself appear as non-threatening as possible, and yet, appearances can be deadly. At the same time, something in my gut told me I’d be alright. With a deep breath, I made my decision.
The stallion eased the door shut, such that it only made the tiniest of sounds. His bluish-purple mane shimmered a little under the light from the two lanterns at either end of the rectangular room.
I glance around, tenseness still holding me in a combat stance. There were three or four heavy crates sitting in various positions against the walls, though none were large enough to hide a full-grown person.
“Phew,” the stallion deflated, giving the door one last look before turning to me. “Sorry about that. This wasn’t how I’d hoped to meet you again.”
“Again?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh…” He looked a bit disappointed, but that quickly disappeared as he rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess you probably wouldn’t remember me. But, uh, well, this is kind of awkward now, but I’ve wanted to thank you for a while now. You and the… the Necromancer. So, er, thanks.”
A long dormant memory stirred and my eyes fell on his flank: an urn. No way. Are you serious?
However, I still wasn’t quite ready to trust him. Tilting my head, I asked, “You’re making an awful lot of assumptions. How do you know I’m who you think I am?”
“Well, how many friends does somepony like the Necromancer have?” he fidgeted a little, looking me over again as though he had to convince himself.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“W-well, some of my ex-buddies may have said ‘the Necromancer’s friend is probably going to come through here and she looks like this.’” He then proceeded to give an uncomfortably detailed description of me.
I narrowed my eyes. “And just who are these ex-buddies? Who gave them that information?”
“H-hey, I’m not lying to you or anything. I just… I’m not as brave as you.”
“Meaning?”
He sighed. “You stand up for what you believe in. I can’t do that. I’m afraid, afraid of losing what I have. Back in Pasture, I was that way for the wrong reasons. I thought I had to prove myself to my buddies, to show them how much I appreciated the family. When everything fell apart, my ‘family’ started infighting over who would be the next leader. Some of us fled here, looking for a better life.”
“And you found it?”
“Yes. Well, unfortunately, just me. My buddies tried, but they couldn’t let old habits die. Got in with some nasty guys called The Cartel,” he gave me a guilty look, as though he was responsible for their poor life choices. “But I remembered what you and the Necromancer said. It didn’t have to be that way. That’s why…”
He motioned to the crates and then the wall that was presumably shared by the front of the building. “... it’s not big and I’m not rich, but I feel a lot better about myself.”
“Let me guess, you can’t bring yourself to fully abandon your old friends.”
“That’s part of it, yeah. But, like I said, I’m afraid. Those Cartel guys are real nasty. Even after they changed their name to ‘Moss’s Crusaders’, I could tell they hadn’t changed one bit. I can’t stand up to that. That’s why whenever they’d come around asking me to join them for their next job, I make excuses.”
“And that’s how you learned about me?”
“More or less. I don’t know who told them, but when they told me, I just knew I couldn’t let things end that way. I was part of the problem way back then, if I let those mistakes bring harm to the ponies who had changed my life so much, I don’t think I could live with myself.”
I couldn’t help but smile. In all this disaster, I’d never expected to stumble upon something like this. In fact, I felt a little guilty, having interrogated him so harshly at the time. “You’re braver than you think. If you were truly a coward, you wouldn’t have even done this. Bravery doesn’t necessitate confrontation and violence.”
He laughed a little. “I guess that’s the message I got that many years ago, even if I didn’t realize it until now.”
“Regardless, I appreciate what you’ve done, Mister…” I extended a hoof.
“Kiln Stoker. No Mister.” He met my hoof and shook.
“Right.” I smiled again. “And I’m Dusky. Once things settle down, maybe I’ll have to come by and see your shop for real.”
“I look forward to it. Stay safe out there.” He gave me another guilty look.
“I will. I have too many people counting on me coming back alive.” I glanced at the door.
He nodded. “Stay off the main roads. There’s way more of those Crusader guys roaming around than makes anypony here comfortable.”
Now that I’d been alerted to the Crusaders’ presence, it wasn’t difficult to avoid them. Them wandering about posturing in bright metal armour helped a little. Kiln Stoker’s advice was sound: they were pretty much only arrayed along the main road. I supposed they were banking on me being in a hurry. To be fair, it did almost work once.
Fortunately, there were plenty of cheap motels on the side streets, from which one 'Soot Rose', environmental analyst, was able to discreetly get a room. The stallion at the desk was far more concerned with the bits making their way to him than her life story, leaving her to her uneasy sleep. In the morning, she departed as readily as she’d appeared.
While taking to the sky again would provide nigh infinite maneuverability, such that it would be difficult for the Crusaders to post enough sentries to reliably intercept me, I wasn’t taking any chances. Blundering into another Iron Shoe situation could very well prove fatal. Instead, I followed the highway a couple miles out of town before breaking away. Once I was about a minute off the path, I followed it at a distance, using it to compensate for low flight’s lesser visibility.
Progress was generally rapid, though there were spikes of total non-progress more often than I’d have liked. Every so often, I’d spot some figures along the path, prompting me to find cover until they’d passed by. Frustratingly, their pace was usually slow, sometimes meandering. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was because they were looking for me or were legitimately carefree travelers. The longer I went, the more I realized that both assumptions were largely wrong.
While I did dodge a couple patrols, which were kind enough to mark themselves by wearing that gaudy imitation armour, the other groups turned my wariness to worry. Initially, I’d thought that their plain appearance simply meant that they could be patrols posing as travelers. Maybe some were, but the volume was just large enough for it to be impossible that they’d all be fakes. Further, they were all headed the same direction: Iron Shoe.
As the pattern became clear, I couldn’t help but let out a low, grim chuckle. The first time I’d come here, a storm had forced my hoof. This time, I was headed straight into it.
At last, the forest came into sight. What was once a vibrant barrier of greens, yellows and browns was now a series of jagged, glassy black pillars. The fiery glow of the imminent dusk almost gave the impression that the fire was still ongoing.
I strained my eyes, trying to pick out something, anything. My heart sank when my gaze passed over the approximate location of where Ivory’s hut—or more likely, the ruins—should have been. I hoped against hope that I was merely missing it in the falling light, but given that I could barely see the half-charred border between complete devastation and the remainder of the forest, the chances were slim. The urge to fly straight in was overwhelming.
Tapping into all my willpower, I held fast, breathing deep until I stopped shaking. Ivory is fine. She’s just hiding. Don’t do anything stupid.
As much as I wanted to just charge in, this would be the worst side to approach from. With everything as open as it was, I’d only succeed in revealing myself to anyone observing—or worse, leading them in the direction of one of Ivory’s other cabins. What’s more, venturing into an enclosed area without knowing what was going on outside was just asking for trouble.
It was bad enough that I was hovering there, gawking, for so long. Shaking off my stupor, I glided down to the ditch. From here, I’d need to go by hoof. My first stop was the estate, and if they had anyone stationed there, flying in would make me more than an easy target.
As expected, moving through the brush was slow going, but was about the only way for me to conceal my approach. Of course, the path up to the gates was so broken and overgrown that it may have even provided adequate cover, if not for the fact that even in its state of disrepair, it would draw the eyes of any watchers.
While the estate itself was a bit off the main road, once one was headed in its general direction, it was pretty much impossible to miss. It didn’t matter that the stone walls had begun to crumble; or that the tall windows of the stone manse had been rough and jagged for years; nor that the dull bronze dome of the Canterlot-style observatory was no longer gold—the message remained crystal clear: “I’m rich.”
I slowed my pace, edging forward with an eye glued to the balcony of the observatory. It ringed the upper floor, just below the slit where the telescope should have been. After a few minutes, I got the impression that there really wasn’t anyone there. In fact, the only movement up there were a couple song birds, likely drawn to the lingering glitter of the dome. Still, that was no excuse to get careless.
Slipping up against the wall, I lamented that it wasn’t crumbling just a little more. A nice, sizable hole that I could slink through instead of using the main entrance would have been nice. As it was, though, I could maybe squeeze a forehoof through most gaps. Eying the road again, I caught sight of the estate’s heavy iron gate, long fallen from its hinges. The weather had taken its toll, leaving the bars more orange than black, with a good one-third of it being slowly consumed by the earth.
The yard was something of a mini-jungle, a blessing that allowed me to not feel like an idiot dashing through the open. That said, it did not come without downsides. Were someone truly lying in wait, there were many places where they could get low enough to be completely concealed. As such, once I got into my first clump of tall grass, I spent a long time pointing my eyes and ears at each of the others.
I was met by nothing more than continuous crickets and chirps: a good sign.
The observatory was a bit of an unknown to me. Like with a few rooms in her estate, Ivory had taken me to the doorway, but found herself unable to step inside. With no urgent matter demanding we move forward, I refrained from pressing her too hard. I hoped that one day she could get past it, but it needed to be on her own terms.
Still, provided the faded purple door hadn’t rusted shut, I at least had something to go on. I snuck up to the door, keeping one eye behind me in case there was someone really patient and skilled lying in wait, just looking for me to turn my back. To that end, when I actually reached the door, I only half-heartedly tried the knob. There was an awful, gritty sound as the mechanism attempted to return to life. I let this go on for a full ten seconds before finally pressing the knob for real.
Turns out that loosening the innards by messing around was a good thing, as I needed to push a good three times before the door finally relented. Casting one last glance behind me, I slipped inside, cringing as the door groaned loudly, echoing out into the yard.
Hastily closing the door behind me, I scanned my surroundings. There were several tables in the middle of the room, of which one had had a leg rotted out from under it. Regardless, nothing was hiding beneath them. The rest of the room was lined with heavy cabinets and yellowed reference posters that ran its perimeter. Of the former, all of them had a layer of dust that almost looked more like a tangle of spider webs—the result of decades of neglect. Even if not for that, even the largest cabinet door would require an exceptionally lithe person to hide within.
This left only the spiral stairs in the back as a possible approach for assailants. Crouching low against the entrance door, I pressed an ear to it while my eyes lingered on the stairs.
Silence.
I didn’t know whether to take it as a sign that someone was sneaking up, their presence scaring off the woodland creatures, or that there simply wasn’t anyone there. Several painful seconds passed as my brain continued fighting with itself, only relaxing when the muffled chirping of birds once again reached me.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I drew myself tall. I wasn’t done here yet.
I gingerly made my way across the floor, careful not to step on any of the assorted books or mapping implements that the rotted table had scattered across the room. Idly, I wondered if between the pages of Astronomy 101 would be a good place to leave my message. I shook my head. Not notable enough.
About halfway through the room, my eyes drifted to the right, to a black poster, wrinkled over time from moisture, giving the yellowed moons on its surface a very odd texture. The upper-right corner had come loose, flopping down, though not enough to obscure the big, bold Lunar Phases of the Moon written in the centre.
I stared for a moment, a slight grin creeping up my lips. Perfect.
Of course, I couldn’t very well write my message with next to no information, nor was it even a particularly good idea with potential hostiles upstairs. As I tucked the tidbit into the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but chastise myself for being so easily distracted.
Each stair was a potential trap, a sound mine that could give me away entirely. I kept to the side nearest the wall as best I could, but inevitably, I felt the step give, filling the stairwell with a deafening echo. My heart raced faster and faster until at last, I poked my head up above the landing.
Empty.
It was a small room, not unlike the main room below, featuring a completely legless table and significantly more beaten mapping implements. The biggest difference was the large telescope that had become dislodged, embedding itself into the thick wooden floor. To be perfectly honest, I was surprised it hadn't found its way downstairs.
The very last rays of the sun streamed in through the windows and open doorway. I don’t know if there ever was a door there, but if there was, it was gone now. I circled the room, checking the outer balcony from the safety of the windows. By this point, I wasn’t too surprised to find nothing. If someone was going to ambush me, it should have been at the top of the stairs, not from someplace I could see from inside the room.
I did have to wonder why, if they had gone to such lengths as to start a forest fire, they were paying so little attention to the estate. I supposed they might have assumed that no one could cross the remnants of the razed forest and make it here without being spotted. They were probably right and in my mind, that only served to reinforce why I shouldn’t go to the forest just yet.
Now that I had something resembling a safe place to lay low if things got crazy, I wanted to check out the town. I knew it would be dangerous, given that those Crusaders were actively searching for me, but I had to know the disposition of the town. My greatest fear was that they would be on the verge of breaking out into an angry mob. Not only would that make things even worse for Ivory, but I would have to be extra wary of things that might set them off. Having one of those show up at my rear could potentially hem me in against whatever dangers I’d already be facing while trying to scout out the forest or manse.
That did bring me back to Moss’s Crusaders. Given the resources in place at Iron Shoe, they were obviously very concerned about my potential involvement, but I couldn’t fathom why. Yes, I’d been an enemy of the Cartel for some time, but a good deal of that was bias founded in personal grudges. In the grand scheme of things, I was a mere thorn compared to the Mob, which had brought the Cartel to its knees at a very inopportune time. I supposed this Moss who may or may not be Ivory’s Moss might have thought himself outside their reach, safe enough to rebuild his forces. Still, that wouldn’t explain why I was the next concern on the list.
With a sigh, I glanced out the windows. Perhaps, in an hour or two, when I could slink about in total darkness, I would find my answers in Pasture.
Even though I was dozens of feet away from Pasture, enveloped by the clusters of tall grass, I could tell something was wrong, like a darkness had descended upon it—and I don’t mean the night. Outwardly, the place never looked better. When I’d first encountered Blaze and her militia, the town had been surrounded by a barricade that had looked like they’d just thrown the first things they’d found together. The gate had been more of a lopsided arch than anything and Blaze had been almost comical in how she’d thrown her weight around in questioning people.
Now, those barricades of trash had been replaced by proper log fencing, not unlike a miniature version of the log fortresses we’d seen in Ostfriesen. The gate, while still not large, was made of the same stuff and, as best I could tell, could actually be closed. Staffing the gate were two heavily armoured sentries, but—and this concerned me greatly—not the same Guard-inspired goons that were strutting around Iron Shoe. No, these guys wore duller, fuller steel barding without a significant paint job. The only thing that could maybe be considered flair was a red hoofprint emblazoned on their chests. At this distance, it was hard to tell, but it definitely wasn’t a pony’s. It was cloven in some way, but I wasn’t sure of the significance. I couldn’t imagine why they’d take on the mark of a deer or goat, and if they were trying to reference a chimera, there were much better ways to depict that.
Regardless, these sentries were deadly serious, without a single shred of the raw passion Blaze and her militia had exhibited. In fact, that whole sense blanketed the town, stifling it of any sound. The town’s nightlife should have just been getting going, but there was nothing—like the inside of those walls was filled with corpses.
I had no hope of getting in from this side. While the guards didn’t look antsy, likely long having realized there would be no suddenly zombie invasion, I couldn’t risk trying to pass the gate. Not when they were looking for me.
I shuffled along, getting out of sight of the gate. Thankfully, the fencing largely lacked watchtowers, with the sole exception sitting at the rear, near the town hall. This allowed me to slowly, carefully slink up to the wall. Even if I couldn’t see inside, perhaps I could hear something.
As I crept along, low, muffled voices reached my ears. Most of it was incoherent. The tone wasn’t quite fearful, but more along the care required to speak privately in a town with little background noise. Someone’s plate barding clanked as they passed in the street.
Leaning in a little closer, I put my ear to the fence.
“...malade … butter sneaking … behind bar together … … … believe it?”
I blinked and shook my head, almost cracking a grin. This was hardly a large enough sample size, but was at least a good start to determining that Pasture wasn’t about to riot.
Continuing to sneak along the wall, I caught what little bits I could, few as they were. While there were some whispers of the Necromancer and how they wished to be rid of her, there were equal parts gossiping about who was making out with who.
Soon, I reached my primary goal: the wall near the town hall. If the mayor, Prideful Policy, was up to anything, it’d be here and would likely involve a lot of noise. Getting close was no problem. I was approaching from along the wall and the watchtower had more than likely been told to keep an eye out for a horde of hostile corpses.
To my disappointment, there were little more than murmurs, grumbling about someone being late. I wanted to move a little closer, to the little rear gate where there might be fewer obstacles between me and whoever was talking, but a bright lantern was hanging overhead. Even the most inattentive guard in the world would be able to see my shadow sticking out.
As I sat there, trying to figure out how I might circumvent the issue, I quickly became grateful I hadn’t decided to be so brazen. Three figures in the mock-Guard armour were coming up the path to the gate.
Pressing myself up against the wall, I listened, hoping for anything, even a casual comment. I was rewarded with silence. Thugs as they might be, these ones knew the meaning of discretion.
Determined to get at least something out of the this, I poked my muzzle out just enough to get a glimpse of the approaching goon squad as they stepped into the light. The armour made it hard to pick out much of anything notable, but the middle one appeared to be leading and had a greenish-yellow coat. He was also a little bigger than the others.
As I ducked back behind the wall, I felt it vibrate a little as their leader banged on the gate.
“Ah've returned.”
Hinges creaked almost immediately as the door swung open. The wall vibrated again.
“About time. What took you? Tell me you at least found something useful.” Prideful Policy’s distinctly demanding tone oozed out into the air.
“Nothin’. Not so much as a trace o’ the undead. Maybe we scared the Necromancer off?” There was something odd about the other stallion’s voice, but I couldn’t quite put a hoof on it just yet.
“Hmph. I would laugh were I in a better mood. Where are my results? I gave you more than enough additional hooves.” I could almost hear him getting up in the green-yellow stallion’s face.
“Yeah, yeah. And the mercenaries’re still out there for ‘nother hour, but their motivation ain’t ‘xactly the sharpest.” The other stallion let out the subtlest of sighs beneath his accent and that’s when it struck me—his accent managed to sound even more country than the mayor of this backwater town. “If’n there was more coin…”
“They will get their share when Pasture rises to glory!” Prideful Policy let out a cough. “No sooner.”
Moss sighed, this time not so subtly. “And jus’ when’ll that be? The bits we ‘ave fronted will only keep them around for so long.”
“You know exactly when. When that blight of a pony is gone, so will those nasty legends. Miners will be flocking to our doorstep!” As his voice hit the crescendo of his speech, I decided that there was zero chance he wasn’t posing, forcing me to stifle a snicker. “Then we will be swimming in bits!”
“Are ya sure tha’sall thas keepin’ ‘em back? This place is ratha remote.” Again with the accent. Some part of me just couldn’t let it go. It almost felt forced, overdone, like he was acting. In all honesty, by this point I was surprised Prideful Policy hadn’t strangled him for mocking him.
It was Prideful Policy’s turn to sigh. “You just leave that to me. I know a guy. Immaculate prospector. We clear up that nasty little problem and he’ll give the word. Bits talk.”
“If’n ya say so. I’ll talk to Crimson Haze, but y’know the further inta the forest ‘e has to go, the bigger the share he’ll want,” the other stallion said.
“Fine, fine. You know I’m willing to compensate more than generously. Just don’t promise it all at once.”
“You tha boss!”
The gate slammed shut and I just about jumped out of my coat. By the time I brought my ear back to the fence, Prideful Policy and the stallion who was presumably Moss were little more than muffles. I wanted so badly to follow after, but getting in would be more than difficult and last time I spied on Prideful Policy, Ivory had to bail me out in a way that set off an angry mob.
Besides, they’d already given me plenty to think about. Ironically, the fact that they’d had to bring in mercenaries made me feel a little better. Ivory had apparently been so elusive that this was the only way they could cover enough ground. On the other hoof, there were now professional mercenaries, in addition to professional criminals, hunting Ivory—all at the request of an insane mayor. I’d never heard of this Crimson Haze before, but I’d have to be more careful than ever to avoid detection. I wished I had time to send word back to Iron Shoe, to get some kind of profile on this guy and his soldiers. Alas, by that time, they’d almost surely have zeroed in on Ivory.
I guessed if nothing else, I could include the name in my message to Night. Perhaps Merri or Star would know something.
However, for the moment, I knew what I had to do. With the mercenaries withdrawing in less than an hour, it was the perfect opportunity to breach their lines and search throughout the night. It would be rough and without the protection of Ivory’s sentries, I’d have to be wary of wildlife, but this was the perfect opening and I couldn’t afford to lose it.
---
True to Moss’s word, the mercenaries called it quits within the hour. As I crouched behind one of the larger tree husks, I witnessed a mass exodus of people dressed just like Pasture’s new gate sentries. It took about three times as long as I was comfortable with, the close proximity of so many hostile professional soldiers making my heart liable to explode.
Even once the last of them passed, I waited another fifteen minutes just to be safe. Really, it was for the best, as it took about that long for me to stop shaking.
The full moon cast its pale light over the tree carcasses, as though mourning their loss. I slipped in among them, weaving my way along the shortest path to the intact part of the forest. If there was one thing I could thank the mercenaries for, it was the trampled hoofpaths cutting their way through the trees. While there was some risk to creeping up the paths made by my enemy, my knowledge of the forest was not so great that I could navigate the underbrush without making a ton of noise. A nice little bonus was that the paths seemed to have scared off any of the dangerous wildlife.
My plan was to go to the deepest hut first, where Ivory was most likely hiding. From there, I would work my way back toward the front, allowing me time to escape and return to the observatory before the mercenaries resumed their own search. Of course, ideally, I’d find Ivory sooner and we could make a direct exit, but in life, there are no guarantees.
Between the quiet and the moonlight filtering through the canopy, the forest seemed almost as lost in time as the field of burned husks. It left me feeling uneasy and moving even slower than I intended. After a few minutes, some of the bugs resumed whatever it is that bugs do, but that did little to ease my anxiety.
Finally, when I thought the building pressure was going to make me implode, the outline of the cabin appeared. There was a faint glow in the window.
Uncertainty gripped my heart. Ivory? Or a foe?
The mercenaries were supposed to be long gone, but I couldn’t afford to make assumptions. I hurried forward as quietly as I could, though I found it harder and harder as the fear continued to build. I swore I could even smell it in the air—as ridiculous as the notion was. I wondered if maybe Ivory had put some kind of fear glyph in place to scare off intruders.
Shaking it off as best I could, I pushed onward, step by step, until I was against the wall near the window. With the utmost of care, I turned my muzzle downward, seeking to cast the smallest silhouette as I looked in the window.
The cabin was a total wreck. Chairs overturned, cabinets and bookcases with their entire contents pulled from the shelves, papers scattered everywhere. But no bodies. No bodies was good.
A single lantern, sitting on the table at the far end of the room, drew my eye. There was a figure standing beside it and he was most definitely not Ivory. He looked like a large stallion, encased entirely in full plate barding, the whole thing painted a chilling blood red. But something was wrong. Proportionally, he was much longer than any pony I’d met. The neck, especially, seemed more elongated and J-shaped. What was even more bizarre was the armour had a large, convex extension at the top of his barrel, almost as though compensating for a hunched back.
The helmet turned toward the window, baring the artificial fangs of its timberwolf theme at me. I started back, a mistake before I even realized what I was doing.
With ungodly speed, the figure was already through the door, smashing it open with the force of an enraged yak. It was then that I realized how wrong I’d been about the air. A burning sense of fear flooded my nostrils, overwhelming my senses. I wanted to turn tail and run, but the smell held my legs in place.
A hollow, booming voice echoed out of the helmet and through the woods, no doubt crushing any smaller creatures in its path. “I have you now, necromancer!”
Instinctively, my body fell into a combat stance.
“Oh?” The armoured stallion tilted his head. “What’s this? A pegasus? Ah… You’re his quarry.”
I stared back, trying to watch for any sudden movement. Mostly, I was just trying not to throw up.
“Not much for talk, huh? And small, too. Hmph.” He settled into a deceptively light combat stance of his own. “In that case, come. Show me what it is about you that scares the great Moss the Paladin.”
This foe was beyond me, no questions asked. My eyes darted around, looking for something, anything to get me out of this. A rock at my hooves, a half-dead tree just back to the right of my flank. All I had to do was something brazenly stupid.
I rushed forward, swinging my wingblade at as extreme a range as I could, almost jumping back as I attacked. It was a good thing that I did, for no sooner had my blade glanced uselessly off of his chest, than his forehooves came, shaking the ground with a force that would have turned my chest into horse rib stew. And if that didn’t do it, the follow-up tail lash into buck would almost certainly have done so.
Backstepping as quickly as I could, I half-spun, making a show of things. Screaming at the top of my lungs so that my nerves couldn’t drag my voice down into nothingness, I yelled, “Ignis Shadow Bolt!”
WIth that, I kicked the rock as hard as I could toward his face. He brought one forehoof up and for a second, I thought I caught a glimpse of some kind of rune engraved on his bracer. There was no time to think about that, though, as I finished spinning, jumping up and buffeting myself back toward the tree.
The rock deflected harmlessly off of the side of his boot, but by then I was already gone. Ignoring the branches as they clawed at my face, body and wings, I powered through, breaking the canopy and into the open sky.
In fact, I burst through with such fervour, that I nearly flipped myself over and back down toward doom. Taking only a second to steady myself, I flapped as hard as my poor heart would let me.
A laugh boomed up from the forest below. “Run, little filly, run!”
Sleep didn’t come easy that night. Not that I expected as much, but even dozing a few moments set my body on edge. I’d flown out the long the way, passing over the back of the forest, then circling back. I’d stayed low until about halfway back to the observatory, landing and taking a route through the underbrush for the remainder. There were fewer Crusaders than before and not a single mercenary. I debated whether I should return, wondering if they’d shifted their forces to lie in wait for me. They couldn’t have known, though at the same time, the estate was an obvious option to take shelter in.
In the end, I decided I couldn’t afford to leave it be. The others would be headed there for my message and if it was overrun, I’d need to find some way to warn them. Thankfully, it seemed as abandoned as the first time I’d stopped in.
Still, I felt like I was on the verge of overstaying my welcome. The longer I was here, the more likely someone would spot me, and then the estate would be watched even more closely. And yet, I needed to check the manor. Despite the manor’s proximity to the town, Ivory’s safe room was technically the best opportunity for a secure rendezvous. Besides, with her cabins looking less and less attractive as hiding places, this was my only other lead.
That said, the night cast too many shadows over much unscouted land. And while the mercenaries had supposedly been recalled, my encounter with who was presumably Crimson Haze left me spooked. In fact, his scent lingered in my nostrils, burned there for all eternity.
Even as I dozed in the corner to the left of the door, every time my eyelids sagged shut, I thought I saw him, standing over the broken table. And each time my eyes shot open, he was gone. By the fifth time, I was fed up enough that I decided I needed another way to pass the time to dawn.
So I paced the room. Eventually my brain turned toward my note. I need to make it clear and concise, and yet, cryptic enough where if it was compromised, my enemy would gain little from it. After the tenth revision, I settled on:
N- Still searching, but so are they. If feeling safe, scout out town. Beware red armor. -D
By the time I’d slipped my little nugget behind the moon poster, light was starting to filter in from above.
A bubbling pot of both weariness and relief, I snuck over to the door, scanning for signs of activity before pushing out into the yard. The morning air was warm and welcoming, ever ignorant of the storm brewing among the people here. Shaking off my grogginess, I moved from brush to brush as I headed for the rear of the manor.
Perhaps it was just my mind reminding me not to get complacent, but every time I glanced at the rest of the yard, something struck me as out of place. And yet, there was nothing obvious: no hoofprints, nor were the patches of brush across the path disturbed in any significant way.
For a moment, I let my eyes wander up the main road, among the weeds, up the chipped stone steps, to the heavy double doors. Nothing out of place there, either.
Shaking my head, I turned back to my task—albeit a bit more cautiously. It was hard to tell, but the half-consumed main path had an offshoot that ran along the shorter side of the manor. Following the remnants of gravel patches, I reached the rear garden, which had been long overgrown. In fact, it seemed to have reached a breaking point, where bits were drying up and withering away, collapsing under its own excess.
Gingerly, I slipped around the vines and thorns, aiming for the simple wooden door at the manor’s corner. As best I knew, this was the most inconspicuous point of entry, even counting the ex-garden that conspired to give me away.
Easing the door open as little as possible, I snaked into the room, painfully aware that it was prone to creaking around the halfway point. I blinked a few times, letting my eyes adjust before nudging the door shut.
The storage room was about as dusty as I remembered, intermingled with a distinct mildewy smell that was no doubt the fault of the pile of rotting barrels and sacks. Wrinkling my muzzle, I did my best to ignore it as I worked the door that would lead me out into the hallway.
The carnage of Ivory’s family’s evacuation lingered, the furniture and crates full of knick knacks keeping their decades-long vigil. And it was likely they would remain as such for years to come. From an emotional standpoint, I wasn’t even sure if Ivory would ever be ready to clean this up. Practically speaking, they were better left untouched. To disturb anything here could very well give Ivory away, signalling an easy location in which to ambush her.
I edged down the hallway, careful not to make a sound, as I passed the rows of closed doors. The dust around them was about as old as could be, but there were technically other ways into some of those rooms. The possibility was enough to induce caution, though clearing the entire manor by myself would take well over a day.
We had previously arranged a way for Ivory to indicate whether she was in the manor or not. If this signal was there, I would make a closer sweep of the immediate area before knocking. Otherwise, we were both better served by me getting out of here as soon as possible.
Pressing up against the wall as I entered the amphitheatre, I scanned the room. In all honesty, it was probably the easiest of anything to check. The sun streaming through the broken windows left few shadows to hide in; and the debris consisted entirely of hoof-sized rocks, shattered bits of glass and dried-up leaves. Further, the entrance I was sheltered in was near the back, closest to the array of six stone columns that composed the staging area. A few quick side steps were all I needed to check them.
In the back corner was a decorative bust, set upon a short stone pillar. While the whole thing was caked in dust, the beard and wide-brimmed wizard hat made the model’s identity rather obvious. However, Starswirl was not what I was interested in. Instead, I slid up against the wall, glancing behind the bust.
My face fell. Were Ivory here, there would have been a small bit of cloth tucked between Starswirl and the pillar. With a short sigh, I turned back toward where I came in.
That was when the tap of a hoof on stone reached my ears. I froze, waiting for the next. There was none. I wondered if I was imagining things. A few seconds later, another isolated tap. Someone was definitely here and definitely trying not to be noticed.
I darted over to the nearest column, crouching behind it as best I could. If they came this way, I hoped it was via one of the two lower entrances. Otherwise, my own ease of clearing the room would soon be turned against me.
Of course, that was exactly where the figure appeared. For a brief, fleeting moment, I imagined it might be Ivory.
A tall, golden mare stepped out into the sun. She was muscular, but not exactly bulky—more of the lithe, athletic type. Regardless, it was still readily apparent, despite the heavy brown cloak and the steel half-barding beneath that. The hood was pulled back, giving me a a full view of her grassy green eyes and brownish-yellow mane. Though her forelock was left loose, the back was tied into a neat bun. My best guess was that she was a scout of some kind.
“I know you’re there.” She took a few steps forward, tapping the edge of one of her steel shoes against the stone. “Save us both the trouble and come out.”
I poked my head around the column, figuring if she was really intent on fighting me, she wouldn’t have bothered with words. “Don’t you think it’s rude to be making demands without introducing yourself?”
The golden mare narrowed her eyes so intently, I wondered if I’d somehow personally offended her. “Why should I give any courtesy to a trespassing thief.”
“Trespassing?” I raised an eyebrow. “Are you really going to claim this place is yours?”
“Regardless of whose property it is, intent is what matters.” She mirrored my look. “Unless you’re going to claim to be The Necromancer.”
“The Necromancer?” I scoffed. “That’s just an old legend. I didn’t know mercenaries concerned themselves with the possessions of imaginary ponies.”
“If you really believe that,” she said, gaze hardening, “then you’re in over your head. Stop poking your muzzle where it doesn’t belong.”
“Says one of the ponies holding Pasture under martial law.” I was half-pulling things out of my ass by now, but if I could get any kind of information out of her without going anywhere near the town, it was worth pushing my luck. “What else is a vendor to do when she can’t get any customers?”
“Don’t like it? Go to Iron Shoe.” Her eyes remained fixed on me. I had a feeling she wasn’t buying my horse apples. Her reply was too curt, too readily dismissive.
I let out a sigh, drawing it out as long as I could. “What if I’m looking for something to fund that trip? You going to tell me to scavenge the side of the road until I’m able to crawl my way into Iron Shoe?”
“I think if you were looking for valuables, there were plenty of better rooms to search.” She began to advance, a predator waiting to pounce. “What are you really doing here?”
Darting back, I placed one of the other columns between us. “Exactly what I said. If you don’t believe me, that’s your problem.”
“Fine, then we’ll do this the har—”
“Sarge?!” a vaguely familiar voice hissed from the rear entrance. “Weren’t you just complaining about me wandering off?”
I blinked. “Blaze?”
Sure enough, Blaze trotted out of the hallway, orange coat glistening in the sun. “Wha—? Dusky?!”
The other mare glanced between us, though she always had at least one eye on me. “Who? You know her?”
“Of course!” Blaze grinned. “We’re old battle buddies! She even set me on my path to the Guard.”
“You’re giving me too much credit.” I shook my head. “You’re the kind of person who would have ended up there one way or another.”
‘Sarge’ sighed. “Never mind that. You speak well of her and yet here she is, skulking around the shadows of an abandoned estate.”
“And you aren’t?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I’m here because I’m supposed to be. You are sticking your muzzle where it doesn’t belong.” She pulled herself tall. To be fair, she was on an official Guard mission. And yet, there was something else. Something guarded, almost like she was trying to muscle anyone else out so she had absolute control of the situation.
“No, Sarge. She’s here because she cares, which is as good a reason as any,” Blaze replied. “Celestia knows the Necromancer isn’t getting any sympathy from anypony else.”
There was no use hiding it now. I nodded. “That’s about the gist of it.”
“Great. More bias.” ‘Sarge’ pressed a hoof to her temple.
“Speak for yourself.” Blaze frowned. “How many times do I have to tell you that she’s not a bad pony?”
“You don’t. Let me remain neutral until I can judge for myself. You met her once, for a brief period of time. If you’ve been deceived, I have to be ready to do what’s necessary.” ‘Sarge’ met her frown.
I wanted to point out that she’d swung way past neutral. In fact, she just about seemed ready to slit Ivory’s throat at the drop of a hat. Admittedly, the legends didn’t exactly give the best first impression, but even in the face of two eyewitnesses, this ‘Sarge’ was being excessively obstinate. Still, I decided to let it slide. I’d only be pushing her buttons, which was likely to make her even less receptive down the road.
“So…” I cut in. “The Guard sent you two to investigate? Is that it?”
“Yep!” Blaze nodded vigourously.
“Sent me.” ‘Sarge’ frowned again. “She just tagged along.”
“Hey! I know my way around here. They even acknowledged that,” Blaze huffed indignantly.
“Dad called in a favour, eh?” I smirked.
“How did y—never mind.” Blaze waved a hoof. “The important thing is we’re here. To help. Not to kill anypony. Problem is we ain’t got anything to go on.”
“In that case, perhaps we should work together.” I was still more than a little wary of ‘Sarge’, but it would be better if I could keep an eye on her rather than chance them running into Ivory when I couldn’t step in. “At least, we’ve more than enough enemies here. No need to make more. I may even have an idea of where we could go next.”
“Hey, no complaints here.” Blaze flashed me a grin. “Sergeant Reed?”
Sergeant Reed gave me a severe look. “Are you going to be fanfillying over the Necromancer too?”
I tilted my head. “I will make my opinions known whenever they’re relevant, but if you think I’ll be gushing, then no.”
Sergeant Reed sighed. “Whatever. I guess that will have to be good enough. Now, about this idea of yours…”
Because the search wasn’t moving slowly enough, we found darkened clouds waiting for us as we re-entered the forest. The steady pitter patter was hardly a storm, but still enough to turn the ground to muck—not to mention the droplets that penetrated the canopy leaving an ethereal mist hanging in the air. Were I not afraid of giving us away, I’d have gone up and broken the clouds apart.
Instead, Sergeant Reed and I were left to trudge through the mud while our early morning lead slowly slipped away. Our single consolation was Blaze’s ability to basically glide straight over the mud, allowing her to scout more manageable trails for us. However, this did little to help with the mist, adding the weight of searching for signs of Ivory to Blaze’s shoulders.
While I did have a hunch that Ivory may have taken shelter in the old bandit tunnels, it was just that—a hunch. If she was really still in the forest, we couldn’t afford to miss any signal of her presence. Otherwise, we’d just end up uselessly wandering the mountains while the mercenaries closed in on her.
The longer we took the more I began to hope the rain would worsen—odd as that sounds. The mercenaries’ pegasi would have little trouble sweeping away the clouds, but that wouldn’t undo the damage done to the ground. Their heavy armour would fare much worse in the mud and the slicker things were, the slower they would move.
Loathe as I was to reveal the locations of Ivory’s cabins to someone who was still essentially a stranger, there was little choice. We detoured as close as time would allow us, such that we could come to Blaze’s aid if necessary, but otherwise let her check each one. I was more than a bit apprehensive, given her brash streak, and then coupled with this being her first real mission out of training. At the same time, I trusted that she’d learned her lesson years ago, with that experience tempered by the Guard’s training.
After the second cabin, I found myself paying much more attention to Sergeant Reed. Whenever Blaze returned to report that she had found yet another hut deserted, I could see a glimmer of hope in Sergeant Reed’s eyes—I daresay on par with my own. I began to ponder how I might probe for answers at camp tonight.
The sun’s descent marked the end of a day where our progress could only be measured in distance traveled. All of the huts I wasn’t able to check the first time were disappointments, with me steering us around the one where I’d had my run-in with Crimson Haze. In the very least, I hoped Ivory would notice it was compromised and shy away.
Our good friend, wild weather, must have been as exhausted as we were, for the rain finally ran dry. Of course, the ground cared not, continuing to cling to my hooves like a needy house pet.
I glanced over at Sergeant Reed for the umpteenth time. She looked more than a little tired, and as the sole person wearing any significant amount of barding among us, it was hardly a surprise. Also not a surprise was how much her steps had splattered wet mud up as far as her forelock. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have wondered if she’d recently been brawling in one of the larger puddles.
Not that I was much better off, mind, but the greater majority of it was concentrated on my legs, leaving my face squeaky clean by comparison.
Blaze came trotting back, leaving only the barest of hoofprints in her wake. In fact, the splatters had hardly even reached the hair directly above her hooves, never mind the rest of her coat. Placed right next to each other, I’m sure an outsider would have concluded that two of us had trudged straight through a bog, while the other had daintily dipped her hooves into a shallow puddle before turning back.
“Hey, Sarge!” Blaze grinned. “Found a nice, dry place. Gonna be a bit of a climb. Hope you don’t mind.”
Sergeant Reed shook her head. “Anything to get out of this swamp of a forest.”
“Sure thing! This way!” And Blaze was off again, stopping every dozen feet or so to let us catch up.
She brought us to the remains of a hill. That is, a steep, rocky cliff face, ringed by a series of inch-tall mini-hills. While it definitely would be a bit of hike, a number of footholds jutted out, snaking a surprisingly long ‘S’ up what couldn’t have been more than fifteen feet tall.
I looked between my two companions, stretching my wings a little. “I think I could fly Blaze up there, but I’m afraid your plating might be a bit too heavy, Sergeant Reed.”
“Nooooo, no, no no. No flying. Nope. I’ll take the long way, thank you,” Blaze said, making a face.
“Still haven’t gotten over that yet?” I smirked a little. “There may come a time where you get deployed to a dirigible.”
Her frown deepened. “I hope not. Besides, I… I’ve got time to get that figured out.”
“We certainly won’t be finding one of those out here. Now let’s stop standing around,” Sergeant Reed said. Without another word, she began her climb. Blaze and I exchanged a look before she followed after.
Meanwhile, I skipped the climb altogether, taking the opportunity to scan the land below. The approach from the approximate direction of the road was easy. While the tall grass might make it tougher to spot one or two people, a large force had no real hope of catching us off guard. And that was putting aside the fact that the mercenaries currently had little reason to come out this far.
The forest was a little trickier, with the canopy fluctuating at a height that really didn’t let me see inside at all. Fortunately, the edge of the forest was some distance back, with the mud giving us more of an opportunity to react. Of course, another couple minutes and we’d be all out of sight.
As I continued to stare, my eyes were drawn to the top of the canopy, its lush, brilliant greens highlighted by the final gasps of the dying light. For just a moment, I forgot that we were basically in the middle of a warzone and wished that everyone could be here to see this.
By now, Blaze and Sergeant Reed had made it to the top, The latter seemed a little winded while the former was already off again.
“It’s over here,” Blaze said, trotting toward the rear of the hill cliff.
A lone tree, though still relatively young in tree years, stood guard over a C-shaped boulder that was maybe about ten feet long. I noted, as I gave the combined shelter a onceover, that the tree was practically growing dead centre. I mused that the sapling must have been protected by the boulder before slowly, almost imperceptibly swapping roles.
Sergeant Reed nodded. “This will do. Good find.”
Blaze grinned ear to ear.
We couldn’t afford to start any fires, which left us huddled up in the inside of the rock, chewing on oh-so-delicious hay rations.
I glanced over at Blaze. “How are you holding up?”
“Me?” She laughed. “I should be asking you two.”
With a groan, Sergeant Reed shook her head. “Don’t get carried away. Don’t run too far—”
“Don’t run far ahead. I get it and you don’t have to worry.” Blaze buffed up her chest. “I take my duty very seriously. Just ask Dusky.”
“That’s… maybe not the best argument, Blaze.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there.” Sergeant Reed met my gaze with a raised eyebrow.
I smirked a little. “She’s always been pretty enthusiastic about the whole justice thing. Which got her into a bit of trouble the last time we were here.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Blaze waved a hoof. “Point is, I learned my lesson, so you don’t have to worry.”
“Is that so?” Sergeant Reed looked to me.
“There were definitely things to learn during that adventure.” I pondered a moment. “But really, if she hadn’t, would she have made it through training?”
“Hmmm. Point.” She side-eyed Blaze. “I’ll take your word for it for now.”
Seeing a chance to do some probing, I asked, “So, what about you? What brought you into the Guard? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I’ve always had a knack for getting to the bottom of things,” Sergeant Reed replied immediately, with the sort of bored tone that told me this was only the umpteenth time she’d ever repeated this. “The Guard seemed like the best place to put that to use.”
I had to wonder if there wasn’t more to it than that. The whole explanation felt a bit too practiced. Not that I didn’t believe her—the Guard wouldn’t send someone out on a solo investigation if they didn’t have faith in her skills. And yet, it didn’t quite have that whole “cutie mark calling” sort of feel, especially beside Blaze’s enthusiasm. There was likely another motive there, but what it was, I couldn’t say.
“Are you saying this kind of thing is routine for you?”
She laughed, a slight bitterness to it. “An out and out war between a militia and an undead army that destroys half a forest? No. Never on this scale. And I’ve been in both criminal and internal investigations.”
“Then why plan to send you alone?” I asked. There was a part of me that zeroed in on ‘internal investigations’, but I brushed it aside. Now was not the time.
“To be discreet.” This time, Sergeant Reed sat up straight, her eyes growing intense. “Can you imagine if word got out that the Guard has launched a large-scale investigation into the existence of a legendary necromancer within our borders? There’s panic enough as it is.”
I thought back to the chaos that was Iron Shoe and the highway out. “Fair. But what if things get out of hoof? We’re a long way from Iron Shoe.”
“I have a way of signalling them.”
“A flare?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. You may find out if I need to use it.”
“I guess I’ve no choice but to take you at your word.” I frowned, especially glad now that I’d arranged for my own backup. “I just hope that, if push comes to shove, whatever it is, it’s reliable.”
---
Though the morning was cold and uninviting, I found myself in better spirits. Being clear of the forest meant the chances of encountering the mercenaries approached zero. Even if they did have some scouts out here, the increasingly tall crags meant that, so long as I kept to a relatively low hover, it would be very difficult to spot me.
Between my ability to scout from the air and Blaze’s sixth sense for footholds, the ground route to the old bandit caves didn’t take nearly as long as I’d feared. Granted, our speed also necessitated greater vigilance—it would do us no good to scurry straight into one of the few possible mercenary patrols.
At last, we reached the edge of the cliff cover, forcing me to set down again. The last time I was here, there had been sentries hidden along the scattered patches of brush. Now, it looked completely abandoned. I swallowed hard, trying to decide whether it was more likely that Ivory was simply forgoing sentries to hide her presence or that the place really was abandoned.
“A flat?” Sergeant Reed interrupted my daydream.
I shook my head. “It looks that way, but there’s actually a small canyon that cuts through the middle of it. That’s where the cave network is.”
“Bold,” Sergeant Reed said. “If they were attacked, they would be at a severe disadvantage.”
“Provided they could be found. I think they were putting all their eggs into the subterfuge basket. Their base would be difficult to identify, even from the air.” I glanced over at Blaze. “Come to think of it, that’s probably why the bandits specifically targeted you. If you found your way here, you’d sniff them out in a heartbeat.”
“Damn straight.” Blaze beamed, doing a little run in place. “These hooves ain’t just for show.”
The path down was precarious—some parts losing nearly half its width to washout. I trusted that Blaze would find a safe path, but there was little point in me taking up precious hoof space. Besides, flying around let me scout each of the caves, just in case there were any non-foothold dangers lying in wait.
Finding nothing in the first five was both a relief and a concern. Have I made a mistake? Did I just lead us on a wild goose chase?
Granted, I didn’t go more than a few feet in, but the potential expansiveness of the network meant I’d need a good reason to venture farther. Besides that, I wasn’t too keen on splitting the group up.
The sixth cave was as dark as the rest and I squinted, for the umpteenth time. In all honesty, there really wasn’t any need to, as the scent of rotted flesh reached my nostrils. What I wasn’t expecting was the dark shape looming just a couple feet to my right. I leapt back, barely suppressing a yelp. As my heart stopped trying to escape my chest, I squinted again. Yep, that’s a zombie pony.
Several more stood beside it, with their formation mirrored on the left. I took a couple steps forward, scanning for other signs of their mistress.
“Dusky?” Blaze half-whispered. “What’s wrong? Why did you stop?”
I turned back, ready to report my findings, but Blaze and Sergeant Reed were already in the mouth of the cave. The zombies stirred, moving to surround them.
“Ambush!” Sergeant Reed called out, falling into a combat stance.
“Whoa! Hold on!” I shouted. “Do not strike. They won’t fight if you don’t.”
“Are you mad?! These are zombies!” Sergeant Reed drew a hoof back.
Blaze latched onto her barrel, their silhouettes merging into some kind of bizarre, double-headed pony. “No, Dusky’s right! Trust me! I know from experience!”
I let out a little groan, though I don’t think anyone heard it over the commotion. Of course she does.
“Dusky? What is going on out here?” Ivory’s unmistakable voice drifted in from the dark. A faint glow materialized, spreading down her face and part of her cloak, giving her a bit of a ghostly appearance.
“Iv—” I caught myself just in time. “Thank Celestia, you’re alive! I’ve been searching everywhere for you.
Ivory looked down. “I apologize. I knew I couldn’t stay in the forest after their initial attack.”
“You! You’re the Necromancer?” Sergeant Reed shook Blaze off, striding straight toward Ivory. When the zombies stepped in her way, she craned her neck to call over them. “What are you trying to do?! What do you hope to accomplish by surrounding yourself with these… putrid things?”
Narrowing her eyes, Ivory cast me a sideways glance. “Who is that?”
“Sergeant Reed, of the Equestrian Guard.” She mirrored Ivory’s glare—almost eerily so.
“Reed…?” Ivory’s expression melted into confusion and she took a step back.
“Huh? What’s wrong?” Blaze tilted her head. “You know Sarge?”
But Ivory didn’t hear her. “Sergeant Reed. What is your full name?”
“I’m the one asking the questions here! What do you hope to accomplish?!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why are you deflecting?”
“I’m not.” Sergeant Reed dug in, dirt crunching beneath her hooves.
I shook my head. “Then why such a harsh reaction? I understand wanting to hide one’s identity too well, yet this still stands out to me. Let me turn the question around: what do you hope to accomplish by shouting and making demands of someone you just met?”
“I’m not shouting, I’m—” She let out a long sigh. “Okay, maybe a little. Listen, this whole situation teeters on the brink of disaster. Which way it swings is my call. To make that call, I need answers. If I… tell you my name, will you answer my questions?”
“Depends on your answer.” Ivory’s face had hardened again, and yet, I could see that tiny glint in her eye—that hint of hope.
Wait a second. Sergeant Reed. Is that—?
“Very well.” Sergeant Reed took in a deep breath. “My full name is Feather Reed.”
A deadlocked silence lingered in the air, stretching on for eons. I glanced between Ivory and Feather Reed, wondering if I should say anything—daring not to say anything, lest I ruin the moment. Even Blaze was held fast by the gravity of the situation.
“You’ve… grown.” A sad smile crept up Ivory’s face, her features highlighted by a warmth I’d never seen before.
“I could say the same for you.” Feather Reed shuffled awkwardly.
Ivory blinked. “That’s a strange thing to say.”
“Why?” Feather Reed tilted her head. “Just because you’re older, doesn’t mean it isn’t true. It’s been, what, thirty years?”
“Longer, for sure.”
Feather Reed nodded. “So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here, with these… things?”
She motioned toward the dormant guard zombies, who had drifted back toward the walls.
And the warmth was gone. “Is that all you’re going to ask? Like I’m some kind of...”
The sentence went unfinished a few seconds before Feather Reed replied. “It’s my job, Ivory.”
“Right. Your job.”
“Yes, my job. I have to remain impartial. If I let bias rule me, then nopony will believe my report if it says you’re innocent.”
Ivory sighed. “‘If?’ So I am to be treated as a monster the whole time?”
“No, Ivory, I...” Feather Reed took a step forward, then half another. “Look, I don’t want to make this any more awkward than it needs to be. We should find a place to sit down.”
By this point, Ivory had turned around entirely. “Mmmm, well, I hope you’re prepared for it to be awkward, anyway. This won’t be a short discussion. This way.”
Part of me wanted to bring up the urgency of the situation. We really did need to get moving soon. And yet, here and now, things teetered precariously over a bottomless pit. One excuse was all that would be needed to ruin this reunion. We had to chance it.
Ivory led us down one of the more roughly cut tunnels, which was narrow enough that two of us could barely fit side by side. Though not as treacherous as the outer pathways, the ground was also uneven, slowing our general pace. The walls broke in numerous places, many of which were just big enough to fit a person—or zombie—inside. Any mercenaries who found this place were in for a bad day.
At last, the tunnel opened up, into what was technically a single cavern, though a line of sizable boulders more or less divided it into two ‘rooms’. On the left was a low campfire, dimming with each passing moment. Along the walls, well out of reach of the flames, was a log pile, a couple crates with a sparse selection of books set on top of them, and a rolled-up cot. A trio of lanterns hung along the walls, illuminating all of Ivory’s supplies.
The right was completely unlit, but it wasn’t particularly hard to pick out the distinctly cube silhouettes of even more crates.
As Ivory entered the left room, a new log hovered its way over to the fire. “I hope you don’t mind sitting on the ground. I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of accommodating guests.”
“I doubt any of us are so dainty as to complain.” I cracked a bit of a grin.
Feather Reed shrugged. “Wouldn’t be any different from last night, anyway.”
We eventually settled into a bit of a semi-circle, with Ivory and Feather Reed beside each, albeit with a noticeable gap. Blaze and I were seated to Ivory’s right, more observers than anything. And what we observed was about a minute of awkwardly staring at the ground.
Feather Reed coughed. “So... why all this? Why zombies?”
The bottom flap of Ivory’s cloak floated up, slowly, hesitantly, revealing her pure white coat, then the shadow of a pony climbing over a mound of dirt. “It’s my special talent. Why else?”
Silence reigned again as Feather Reed’s eyes locked on her sister’s flank. “Okaaay, right. Let’s try a different approach. What led to you having a small… herd of zombies?”
Ivory’s expression darkened as she watched something play out on the wall. “They ran me out of town, Feather. I was a young filly who could barely lift a log on her own, lost in the middle of a dark forest. I needed help. I needed friends. So I made them.”
“You need what, three, four, to forage and build you a shelter?” Feather Reed motioned back at the tunnel. “We saw at least thrice as many just coming in here. What happened there?”
Ivory’s answer was immediate. “I realized I could protect ponies.”
“Protect them? With an army of undead? What could merit that?”
“Why does Equestria have an army?”
Feather Reed sighed. “You know very well that that’s different.”
“Bandits?” Feather Reed’s expression wasn’t quite skeptical. “You built an army to fight a couple crooks?”
“No. It’s a long, isolated road. It’s the kind of thing large gangs decide to take over.”
“Iron Shoe to Las Pegasus is a lucrative commercial route. There’s really no surprise that it would attract a sizable band of thugs,” I added.
“I can’t say I’m fully convinced.” Feather Reed shook her head. “What about the wildlife?”
“Timber wolves, to name a few.” Ivory paused, the briefest of uncertainties crossing her face. “Enough to overwhelm a Guard, even.”
Feather Reed frowned. “What? There were never any Guard deaths reported for this region.”
“Who said he died?” Ivory locked eyes with her sister. “Even though the townsfolk had run me out, he made me realize that I’d still rather help than harm them.”
“There also weren’t any reports of injuries caused by timber wolves.” Feather Reed shook her head.
“He wouldn’t have reported it,” Blaze cut in. “He’d have to say too much about Ivory. Then ponies would start asking questions.”
“Great.” A groan escaped Feather Reed’s lips. “And now I can’t even trust the file because somepony was too biased to do his job.”
“Hey!” Blaze puffed up indignantly. “There’s more to being a good Guard than following the book. He had faith in Ivory. Maybe you should too.”
There was just a split second where Feather Reed was almost taken aback, but that quickly melted into exasperation. “That Guard was your father, wasn’t he?”
Blaze scowled. “So what if he was?”
“Never mind.” Turning back to Ivory, Feather Reed’s words were hesitant, almost stumbling over each other. “What started all this? How… how did you realize your special talent? That it was… zombies.”
“When I got my cutie mark, you mean?” Ivory asked, to which Feather Reed nodded. “When I brought back Moss’s cat.”
“Wait.” Feather Reed blinked. “Moss. As in Moss the Paladin, who publicly declared he’d bring you to justice?”
Ivory frowned and a bowling ball formed in my stomach. I could see it in her eyes. Oh. Oh, shit. She already knows.
“I… I think so.” She shook her head. “No, there’s no mistaking him. It’s definitely him.”
I didn’t know which scenario was worse: this, or if I’d had to tell her myself. All I knew was that I wanted to hug Ivory right then and there. No wonder Feather Reed’s distant coldness had been such a sore point.
“Is it because of the cat? Because you, uh… zombified it?” Feather Reed asked.
“No. I don’t even know if Cotton was a zombie.” Ivory’s gaze grew distant. “I’ve never been able to replicate that work, but it was my finest. Cotton was just… alive again. No side effects, like he’d never been dead in the first place.”
“That’s…” Feather Reed’s jaw hung open. “That’s quite the feat. But then why would he come after you?”
“I don’t know.” Ivory’s voice quivered with each word, like Moss himself was driving a blade into her. “Maybe he doesn’t know it’s me. Maybe if he could only see that it’s just me, he’d understand.”
“Ivory…” Feather Reed sighed. “Maybe we should take a break. I’m sure we both have a lot to think about. “
We didn’t so much disperse as Feather Reed wandered off into the storage section. Blaze scooted a little closer to the fire while I trotted over to Ivory.
“Hey, Ivory?” I asked. “How are you holding up?”
Ivory drew in a deep breath and when she turned to face me, her expression was completely neutral. “Fine. Just fine.”
Suppressing a frown, I nodded. She needed personal space right now. Still, there was one thing that needed addressing. “If you say so. Will you be ready to move out tomorrow? We should get clear of Pasture as quickly as possible.”
“I will be ready.” She shook her head. “But I must see Moss.”
“Ivory, please. These mercenaries are extremely strong and dangerous. Should there be a confrontation, the end result would likely be a bloodbath. Not only would that put you at risk, but we’d be playing right into Prideful Policy’s hooves. He’d cast you as a villain to the world. I don’t want that.”
“But this may be my only chance.” Ivory looked down.
“I agree with Dusky,” Blaze said. “Much as I hate to run from that asshole again, if we don’t, he wins. Sarge may seem cold, but her heart’s pointed straight at justice. She knows what Prideful’s been up to, putting the town under martial law and all. I’m too new for the Guard to take me at my word, but Sarge, she’s a long timer. She puts in the word and we’ll be back with a full company, ready to expose the shit out of his wrongdoings.”
With that, she swiped a hoof at the air, bowling over an imaginary Prideful Policy.
“And once Prideful Policy is discredited, Moss may be more receptive to your words,” I added.
Ivory looked between the two of us and let out a sigh. “You’re right. There will be another time. Besides, if Blaze is erring on the side of caution, then it must be really bad.”
She turned around and started rummaging through one of the crates.
Blaze’s mouth was halfway open, a, “Hey!” written on her lips. But it never came out. Instead, she glanced at me, her eyes saying something else: Did Ivory just make a joke?
Smirking, I nodded.
“Dusky?” Ivory called over her shoulder, her voice a little apprehensive again.
“Yes?”
“Could you bring me some preserved berries? They’re in the leftmost crate in the other room. Take whatever you need for yourself, too.”
“Of course.” I turned and started trotting toward the other room. “Want some, Blaze?”
“Nah, you’ll already have your hooves full.” Blaze waved her foreleg. “I’ll get it sorted later.”
Taking one of the lanterns, I trotted over to the other room. As it turns out, what I’d seen on the way in was only the first row, with several more arrayed behind it, neatly spaced for easy access. As I moved toward Ivory’s berry crate, Feather Reed’s head popped up between the second and third rows.
“Oh, it’s just you.” A look of relief flitted across her face.
“Yeah. Guess both of you still aren’t ready.” I glanced back over my shoulder. “How are you doing?”
Feather Reed raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me?”
“Why not?” I asked. “This wouldn’t be an easy task without the whole sister thing coming into play. I can’t imagine how conflicted you must feel.”
“Heh. I suppose. It’s funny. I dreamed of a day like this for so long.” Absently, she tapped her hoof against the closest crate. “I knew it would be hard. I thought I was ready for it.”
“You did?” I tilted my head. “Then why the coldness? I know you want to avoid nepotism, but I feel like the discussion was slipping toward the opposite extreme.”
Feather Reed took in a deep breath, staring at the crate a good few seconds before she finally spoke, “When I was much younger, barely more than a preschooler, I remember a filly talking to me—sad, uncertain, but also kind. I couldn’t understand her predicament. Many of the meanings of the words themselves eluded me. I just remember she wanted to do right, to help those around her. That filly, I want to believe she’s still Ivory, yet… all these stories, they trouble me.”
Her eyes lingered on the crate again. “Thirty years is a long time.”
“I understand. When I first came here, first met Ivory, I’d also heard the legends. I was suspicious, even a little hostile. The thought that such magic could be a sign of anything but darkness hadn’t even crossed my mind until then. But the more time I spent with her, the more I realized she was a person, not some malevolent force of evil haunting a spooky old wood.” I shook my head. “Thirty years is a long time, but you shouldn’t just discard those memories. Give her some benefit of the doubt. After all, legends and rumours also twist and turn over time.”
“Would you advise her the same with that Moss fellow? You do know he’s ex-Cartel, right?”
I bit my lip. Feather Reed was right: everything about Moss was suspicious. And yet, Ivory had spoken so fondly of him. I shook my head. “Not exactly the same, no. But people aren’t strictly right or wrong. They make good decisions and bad decisions. I would tell her to be careful, yet not to write him off entirely.”
Feather Reed chuckled. “No wonder Blaze gets along so well with you. You’ve got a rough exterior, but deep down, you’re still an idealist.”
“What?” I frowned. “And you think people can be defined in their entirety as right or wrong?”
“No.” Feather Reed shook her head. “Nothing that extreme. But over the years, I’ve seen just about every motive under the sun. There’s a darker nature lurking in the hearts of many ponies. Many don’t even know it until the time comes. Good intentions don’t necessarily make a good pony.”
“Perhaps.” I bit my lip. “But I’d still prefer not to judge so harshly. The last time I did, I just about condemned one of the kindest people I know.”
The trek back was tense. I don’t know what I really expected, seeing as how we couldn’t just wander about with a full escort of zombies. Ivory, understandably, was the most on edge, constantly looking here, there and over her shoulder. I caught a glimpse of a bird’s shadow every so often, so I knew she wasn’t entirely blind. Still, for someone who usually had a druidic awareness of what was going on in the forest, this must have been like running around with her coat shaved off.
Our formation was awkward, a wedge about four times as wide as me dividing Ivory and Feather Reed. Every so often, an uncertain glance would pass between them, then they’d look away. Blaze trotted just a bit ahead of us, guiding us between patches of good ground. We dared not let her get too far ahead, though, as without the advantage of her mud walking, any attackers would be significantly more dangerous.
Luckily, our plan actually hinged on not being too fast. The cover of the forest would only work for us so long during the day. Once we were inside a day’s travel to Pasture, it could very well conceal dozens of roving mercenaries. Knowing what we did about their downtime, we made camp just outside that range, stopping to rest until nightfall.
Blaze paced the tiny clearing we’d chosen as our site. It was situated behind a line of trees that sat atop a rather steep hill of roughly ten feet, keeping us concealed, yet also giving a clear view of the most likely approach.
“Cut that out,” Feather Reed said without turning away from her vigil at the tree line. “You’ll wear yourself out before tonight and I’m not carrying you.”
I nodded. “Also can’t have you half-asleep if you’re going to be pathfinding for us.”
“I know, I know.” Blaze sighed. “Just can’t shake the feeling we’re wasting time, y’know? We could be a third of the way through the forest by now.”
“Or withers deep in mercenaries.” This time Feather Reed spared a quick glance back. “Now that we have Ivory with us, it’s unlikely that we’ll be able to talk our way out of anything.”
Ivory didn’t say a word. She was sitting on her haunches, visible eye closed beneath a mildly furrowed brow. Light radiated off of her horn, fluctuating with the intensity of her expression. When she finally opened her eyes, she let out a deep sigh, fatigue pulling at the edges of her eye. “It is as we suspected. They’re watching the road, very closely.”
I nodded. “Sorry, Blaze. No setting out early.”
“Stupid sellhooves,” Blaze grumbled.
“That’s funny,” I let out a low chuckle. “Didn’t you try to hire me way back?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were a sellhoof. You were totally a, uh... swashbuckling adventurer!” Blaze twirled her hoof.
At that point, Feather Reed’s head turned slowly, incredulously, almost owl-like. She stared at Blaze, then me, then back to Blaze. She opened her mouth, but after a few moments, simply shook her head and went back to looking over the forest.
“Right. As I tipped my fedora and spun a yarn about two weeks ago, when I grew claws and suplexed an Ursa Minor.”
“Yep.” Blaze grinned wide. “That’s exactly how it happened.”
It was my turn to shake my head. That’s when I realized Ivory hadn’t said anything else. She was still sitting on her haunches, focusing on a random spot on the ground. I trotted over to her side. “Hey, Ivory, are you feeling okay?”
She quickly pulled herself up and nodded. “There is a reason I rarely assume direct control. But I am fine now.”
“If you say so. Still, might as well get some rest—it’s not like we’ll be moving anytime soon.”
---
Moonlight that might have helped us in any other scenario was our enemy here. While the path, now clear of any patrols, was tempting, there was no cover. For that route to be viable, the darkness would have to protect our approach. Instead, it would have simply highlighted us, letting any half-decent unicorn ambush us at range.
Still, blundering blindly through the middle of the forest was likely to cause the equivalent level of problems in noise, so we compromised. Skirting the outermost edge, we struck a precarious balance between not having enough moonlight to see and letting any observers spot us. As usual, Blaze’s sixth sense helped out, letting us skimp a bit on the light.
A long night and a half-dozen bruises later, we somehow found ourselves within sight of the manor without incident. I was beginning to wonder why the mercenaries left everything practically abandoned each night. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it came down to bodies. Even adding the mercenaries and whatever Moss had brought with him together, it was highly unlikely that they were anywhere near the size of the Guard. I just couldn’t see Pasture having the bits.
With that in mind, there was no way they could afford to enclose the forest at all hours. It would spread them too thin when, for all they knew, there was an army of which the size was only limited by the amount of things that had died in that forest over several decades, waiting to burst forth from the the bushes. Putting myself in their horseshoes, even were I the strongest, nigh-invincible mare on the planet, I would be hesitant to push my luck on that. Perhaps the reason they had torched part of the forest so readily was a ruthlessness born of fear.
We circled around, approaching the main gate once more via the brush. I strained my eyes, staring up at the top of the observatory, looking for any signs of occupation—whether they be friend or foe. Nothing. Not even a stray bird.
On the one hoof, I felt some level of relief. If my friends had been so easy to spot, then they would have been easy targets. On the other hoof, there was also no telling if Prideful Policy’s goons had occupied the estate. The last thing we needed to do was throw everything away by waltzing into an ambush.
I glanced back at the others. “Chances are someone is there. No indication of who.”
“Didn’t you say you sent your friends here?” Blaze whispered.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that they were able to remain in the observatory.” I stared up again, looking in vain for something to go off of. “With the way things have gone, there’s the distinct possibility they may have had to retreat—or even back off and avoid it entirely.”
“Blaze and I could go,” Feather Reed said. “We’re here on official business. As long as you two stay hidden, we could throw our weight around a little.”
I frowned. “I doubt they’d be happy to see anyone not on their payroll.”
“Not happy is better than attacking on sight,” Feather Reed reasoned. “We’re just scouting the situation. If they get uppity, we can back off and leave.”
“They’d probably even be happy to think they scared us off,” Blaze added.
“Right. Then I guess this is in your hooves now.” I looked back at Ivory, just in case she had any objections.
Tweet! Warble. Warble. The sound echoed up from inside the manor walls.
I arched an eyebrow. “What kind of bird is that? Ivory, is that something that’s supposed to be around here?”
“It’s not. But I recognize it,” Blaze said, a grin creeping up her face. “It’s the call of a yellow-tailed Guard Scout.”
“Wha—Blaze!” I hissed. “Where are you going?”
“To meet them,” she whispered. This was followed by her own impression, one that was a bit shakier than whoever had initially called out. Tweet. Tweet. Tweeeeet!
“She’s correct,” Feather Reed said. “It is a legitimate Guard call.”
“But aren’t you supposed to be the only unit out here? What if this one is compromised?” With that, I pushed ahead as quickly as I dared.
Blaze was already nearly twenty feet ahead, practically running as she chased another set of bird imitations.
The next sound to come stopped me in my tracks: “Sergeant Mint Creme, reporting.”
No enemies? No complications? Mint right here in front of us? I have to be dreaming.
Throwing caution to the wind, Blaze trotted past the fallen gate, calling out, “Sarge!”
“Blaze, get in here quick. We need to stay out of sight until we can move.” There was a certain worry to Mint’s voice that got me moving again.
No, of course there’s complications.
“Hold on. I’ll get the others.” The ground crunched as Blaze pivoted.
“Others?” Mint asked. “Who else is with you?”
“There’s me, Sergeant Reed, Dusky, and Ivory!” Blaze’s smile was audible.
“Explains the preliminary caution, then.” The worry in Mint’s voice fell away ever-so-slightly.
“Dusky?” Night’s voice rose distinctly above the others’ and I felt my heart propel me forward. I paused just long enough to signal Ivory and Feather Reed before hurrying through the gate.
“Go get her, loverboy~.”
“Night—” I began, but he was already there, hugging me tight.
“Missed you, Dusky… Love you,” he said, emotions moving faster than his mouth.
I nuzzled into his mane. “I missed you too. Did you have much trouble getting here?”
Slowly, reluctantly, he released me. The look he gave me told me there were definitely complications. “Nothing getting here… plenty of trouble after that, though. That… that matters less now, though. You found Ivory?”
“And some other company. Blaze, and her commander, Sergeant Feather Reed. How many did you bring?”
“Myself, Mint, Merri, Star, and Icicle. Not as many as I’d have liked, but these are the only ponies I could trust to come.”
I raised an eyebrow, my gaze falling on Icicle Gleam. No armour or weapons. Nor did he look especially on the ball. “If there’s a good reason why he’s here, then alright.”
Merri grinned, “I vouched for him, Dusky.”
I looked at Night, who shrugged. I supposed Merri did generally know what she was doing and he was already here. There was little point arguing over it now. “Alright.”
Mint walked over, waiting for Ivory and Feather Reed to catch up before saying, “Sergeant Reed, hm?”
Feather Reed saluted, a stiff, automatic gesture, as concern overtook her face. “Sergeant Creme. I wasn’t aware you’d been assigned to this… problem.”
“I haven’t. Not officially, at least. That’s my brother, and the mare you’ve been working alongside is my sister-in-law, and I’m not the type to stay behind and let anypony in my family get hurt. You’re here more officially, yes?”
“Sent to investigate the veracity and the threat presented by the legend of the Necromancer of Pasture. Findings are… inconclusive.” Feather Reed stole a glance at Ivory.
Ivory looked away. I couldn’t blame her.
Night watched them for a moment, but caught himself and snapped to. “Listen, we’ve been scouting Pasture, spying on the mercenaries’ movements, and on the Mayor, and we need to move. We were just getting ready to leave.”
Ivory stared at Night. “Why the hurry? What did you find out?”
“This mansion, this forest, this whole area, Mayor Prideful is ordering those mercenaries to burn it all down to find you. That camel and his fighters could be here any moment now,” Night said all at once, lowering his head as though he was somehow personally responsible for Prideful Policy’s insanity. “I’m… sorry.”
Camel. Of course. That’s what he was. I’d never met one before, but even with how little I’d known, that rancid scent should have been a telltale sign.
Ivory took a step back, frowning. “Burn the mansion? He can’t… he wouldn’t?”
Merri gave a solemn nod. “We heard it ourselves. Him and Moss, but the Mayor’s the one who ordered it.”
I turned to Ivory. “I know it’s hard to leave it behind, but we still need to get you out of here.”
“I can’t, Dusky. I can’t. If that’s what Prideful ordered, if he’s ready to go that far… I need to stay. I need to find a way to end all this bloodshed. Nopony else should get hurt because of me.”
“That’s… you can’t do that, Ivory. It’s not just Prideful Policy anymore, he has a whole mercenary camp hired on to hunt you down. Moss has ponies all the way out to Iron Shoe looking for you.” I looked Ivory in the eye, pleading as much as reasoning. “Staying here is… it’s crazy!”
“I know. Yet… I don’t think there’s any choice left for me now.” Ivory stared off into the distance, like this was a destiny that had finally caught up to her.
Gritting my teeth, I glanced over everyone here. We had enough veterans to make a stand. We even had a chance of winning. But that cost would almost certainly be too high. “No… we’ll find another option. We just need a plan.”
---
A blanket of dread hung over the manor. With both groups linked up, Ivory was able to let us into her safe room, yet, we were still running short of time. While we could escape into the wilderness at anytime, if we wished to do anything decisive, the estate was the best battleground. The question was: what could we even do?
To that end, all of us except Merri and Icicle Gleam had cleared out one of the storage rooms and unpacked an old dining set to create a makeshift strategy room. I would have preferred everyone present, but we couldn’t afford to let the mercenaries sneak up on us and Merri had volunteered to keep watch.
“If the problem is that he won’t stop until you’re gone, what if we make a show of you taking the highway out?” Feather Reed suggested, leaning back in one of the ancient wooden chairs. “There would still be some danger, but far less than fighting until only one of you is left standing. If his opponent is gone, continuing with this war would only make him look like a fool.”
“Pasture trusts him too much,” Ivory sighed. “He could keep sending mercenaries to chase me to the ends of Equestria and they would accept it.”
“Or worse,” Blaze chimed in as she leaned over the old dining room table. “He’d spin it as a trick, that there’s no way Ivory would give up her power over us. She’s just rebuilding her army, hiding a bit farther back until they let down their guard. Believe me, I… I used to buy into that schlock.”
Blaze gave Ivory an apologetic look, which was met by a tired smile.
Star frowned. “He is adept at politics, I will give him that. I do not think that engaging him will have the result you desire. Even if we bring him down, Pasture will see him as a martyr, and you, a villain. It is then likely that the Equestrian Guard will have to step in and I doubt there is anything Sergeant Reed could say to quell that momentum.”
“Much as I hate to admit it, she’s right.” Mint sighed, frustration painted all across her brow. “No matter the intention, a large-scale battle always looks bad. A crisis force will be sent to respond.”
“Then running really is the best way to keep suffering to a minimum?” Night’s voice was full of hope.
Ivory shook her head. “If I simply disappear, nothing will change. He’ll see ghosts and shadows around every corner.”
An idea hit me like a runaway cart, dragging me behind it. “What if we let him win?”
Blaze tilted her head. “Dusky, you… uh, feeling okay there? I thought I just heard you suggest letting him win.”
“I did.” Turning to Ivory, I asked, “What are the chances we can create a zombie that looks like you?”
“It would take some time, but the necessary spells are not terribly complicated. It will take more effort to mask the smell.” She paused. “Are we… faking my death?”
I nodded. “Think about it. If he believes he has thoroughly won, to the point that he has found a corpse, then he cannot pursue this any further. He would never undermine his own victory, so he’d have to let his vendetta go, hopefully becoming a better mayor in the process.”
“We would need to make it believable,” Star said. “A stallion like him would not accept a kill that seemed too easy. If he suspects anything at all, we run into the same trickery problem.”
“We could pretend to attack Pasture,” Blaze suggested. “Let him believe everything bad he’s said is true. He’d take to it like a bass on a crankbait.”
“She’s right,” I said. “Fighting is chaotic, even if Ivory keeps her zombies in check, the mercenaries and townsfolk will be in a frenzy. Accidental collateral is almost a certainty.”
“Then why not here?” Mint pointed a hoof at the ceiling. “We know they’ll be here sooner or later, so why don’t we take advantage of that?”
I pondered a moment. “That’s… perfect. We draw them in, stage a battle and let them push the zombies back. When the body double goes down and we’re certain the mercenaries have confirmed their ‘kill’, we retreat into the safe room and disappear into the wilderness.”
The mood was as somber as the safe rooms were musty. We were going to war. A faked war where the majority of the casualties were going to be zombies—but a war nonetheless. I’d never really dealt with fighting on this kind of scale, but if there was one thing I did know for certain: there were more ways my plan could go wrong than I cared to count. As such, I constantly found myself in our makeshift strategy room, poring over the map. Contingencies on top of contingencies.
I felt bad. Even more than myself, Night seemed like he wanted time together, yet I was constantly sending him out to check one thing or another. Normally, I’d have asked Ivory to post a few of the zombies she’d been trickling in through the wilderness entrance in places where she could check for me. However, the body double seemed to demand as much attention from her as the strategizing did of me, so I was left making the others scurry about.
Star and Merri seemed to be enjoying this a bit more than I might have liked to admit. I suppose the whole affair was essentially their profession and the little extra suggestions and observations they brought back put me more at ease. Still, thinking about it too deeply brought me full circle.
I was going over the map for the umpteenth time when the door creaked open and shut. I glanced up to see Feather Reed, full barding and saddlebags on. After a moment, it also clicked in my mind that it was already midnight.
“It’s still quiet. Perhaps too quiet. Whatever their preparations, expect them to be thorough,” she said, trotting over to the table. “How long have you been at this? I could start a betting pool on which of you or Ivory will pass out from exhaustion first.”
“I’ll be taking a break soon.” I smiled grimly. “Thanks for your concern. But everyone is working hard. I can’t afford to slack off. I… I won’t let anyone die.”
“Mmmm.” Feather Reed nodded, though her mind was clearly elsewhere. “I understand. There have been many times where I pushed myself, trying to solve that last piece of the puzzle, because the longer that murderer remained at large, the more ponies could die. But I always try to remember something my captain told me: ‘Longer is not inherently better. If you don’t at least stop to rest, you may make a decision you'll regret.’”
“Sound advice. Which is why I plan to sleep after I go over this route one more time.” I patted the map with the tip of my wing.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Feather Reed said, settling down in one of the chairs. Her muzzle wrinkled for a moment before she reached into her pack and produced a scroll. Setting it on the table, she unfurled it. “I have also come to a decision.”
My conclusions are as follows: The Necromancer, though not of mean ability, has had her abilities greatly exaggerated by the legend. While this does not render her harmless, the nature of her personality means she is currently of minimal threat. The greater issue is posed by the machinations of Mayor Prideful Policy, who obsesses with removing her from this land. To that end, I plan to bring the Necromancer in for an interview, that we might properly assess her motives. In the meantime, I request that reinforcements be sent to Pasture, to relieve the Mayor of his duties before he causes further harm.
-Sgt. Reed
I narrowed my eyes. “‘Bring her in for an interview’? You mean arrest her?”
Feather Reed sighed. “I’d prefer she come in willingly, for her sake. I cannot guarantee that what she says won’t get her arrested, but this is the best chance for her to tell her side of the story to ponies with the power to set things right.”
“Why should we trust them?” I frowned. “My experience has been pretty mixed when it comes to who in the Guard will abuse or uphold their duties.”
“You can trust my captain.” Feather Reed looked me straight in the eye.
“On what basis?”
“I learned everything I know from her. Ponies who simply sit back and leech off their positions do not bring so much in-depth knowledge and techniques to their students.” When her words didn’t move me as quickly as she liked, she reached into her pack. “Plus, she’s invested enough in the success of this operation that she had the quartermaster procure something that is technically several levels above my paygrade.”
She set a flask on the table, the corked contents consisting entirely of green flame.
I blinked, the realization dragging my exhausted mind along behind it. “That’s…”
“A direct link to High Command.” Feather Reed smiled proudly, though it drooped a little as she added, “I’m not exactly sure how it works, but I was told that in dire circumstances, I was to place my report within the flames and that it would reach High Command within the hour.”
My nod was slow, my mind's entire train station departing at the same time. After a few moments, they all began arriving at the same destination, bringing with them the warmth of relief. This hadn’t just been sanctioned by High Command. This had been sanctioned by the highest of commands. Feather Reed was far more right than she realized: if there was anyone who would give Ivory a fair say, this was the person. And chances were, Feather Reed wasn’t on this assignment by pure happenstance, either.
A tired smile spread up my face. “I understand. In that case, I’ll do my best to convince Ivory to give her a chance.”
It was Feather Reed’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You gave in rather easily.”
I nodded. “You played your trump card and you’re right: they don’t just trust anyone with that.”
---
I didn’t so much walk as shuffle back to one of the three rooms we’d set aside for people to sleep in. To be honest, none of them could have qualified for proper bedrooms, but then again, none of them really were. These particular rooms just happened to be the ones where it was easiest to get the crates and furniture just far enough out of the way to get our bedrolls laid out.
The door creaked as I nosed it open and a blue form rose from between two antique dressers, the single candle on the right one barely illuminating him. Though Night was still weighed down by the blanket of fatigue, he hurried over, meeting me halfway for long overdue nuzzles.
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” I said.
“It was worth it.” He grinned tiredly.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
He gave me a concerned look. “How am I holding up?”
With a smirk, I shook my head. “‘So tired that we’re worrying each other’, for both of us, then.”
Night let out a little sigh. “Better than worrying because you’re in danger.”
“I know the feeling.” I pressed into his mane. “Which makes it even more important that we take advantage of this now. Once the battle begins, we won’t be able to rest until we’re well clear of the fighting—maybe not even until we reach Iron Shoe.”
He grimaced. “You don’t think the fake Ivory is going to work?”
“I don’t know.” I stared at the floor. “This whole plan stands on a razor’s edge. I can only guess at how the mercenaries will approach, but if they do too much that's unexpected, we’ll have to adapt, likely retreat. If we’re lucky, the double won’t be compromised and we can try again within the forest. Otherwise… I don’t know.”
Wrapping his forelegs around me, Night pulled me close. “I wish I could do more. I wish you didn’t have to do this all the time. But all I can do is be here for you.”
I smiled, wrapping a wing across his barrel. “I know. And I appreciate it.”
A light tapping at the door drew both of our gazes.
“Who is it?” I asked.
The door slid open and Merri’s head appeared. “Just us—oh, hey, Sis’, it’s bad timing. They’re about to get jiggy together~.”
Night turned bright red. “Th-that’s, um…”
“Only in your head.” Star’s eye roll was audible as she shoved her way past Merri. “I do not believe Dusky would be so irresponsible as to ‘get jiggy’ when the enemy could attack at any time now.”
“No, see,” Merri pointed. “They’re getting all cuddly and romantic and stuff. I bet they were just seconds away from the good stuff. Until you ruined the mood, anyway~.”
“If anypony ruined the mood, it is you,” Star said, shaking her head. She stopped to look us over. “Is this a bad time?”
“Maybe a little,” I began.
Merri threw up her hooves. “I knew it~!”
It was my turn to sigh and shake my head. “No, we were just talking. About our journeys—and this whole situation. Is something wrong?”
Star held up a hoof. “Nothing urgent. During one of my sister’s rare bouts of maturity, we have been discussing the situation as well, and came to a conclusion.”
“We brought you a gift!” Merri flourished, a set of what looked like scale mail barding floating up from behind Star. Each scale reflected a spectrum between each of their magic auras.
Star scowled as she tugged it away from Merri. “This was supposed to be for your wedding, but this is clearly a more pertinent time.”
I circled the barding. I’m no smith and it had been at least a year since I’d even trained in anything like it, but it definitely looked nice. Still, looks can be deceiving. “I’m… grateful, but I don’t think I’m ready to deal with any more Ostfriesen artifacts.”
“What?” Realization flashed across Merri’s face. “Oh, no, no, no. This isn’t an Ostfriesen artifact. It’s honest-to-Tapioca vengeful-ghost-free.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Where did this come from? Do you even know?”
Star held up her forehoof. “I can vouch for it. This was made by an Equestrian smith, one Platinum Anvil of Canterlot. Though the enchantment is Ostfriesen, it is my own magic. There will be no undesired effects.”
Nodding slowly, I gave Star an apologetic smile. “Sorry, just being careful.”
“Do not apologize for exercising prudence.” She shook her head, and as her eyes flitted over to Merri, guilt passed over both of their faces.
“So, what are the desired effects?” I asked.
“There is just one for now. Time was running short and careless enchantment risks destroying the armour,” Star replied. “We settled on weight reduction, since we know you like to stay light on your hooves. It should feel about half as heavy as normal. Try it.”
The barding hovered about a foot over my back. I nodded, dipping my head to accommodate the neck piece. I could definitely feel the weight settle around my barrel, though it wasn’t much worse than my flight satchels. I spun a few times, more than a little awkwardly, as I felt it out.
“Snazzy!” Merri clapped her hooves together. “How’s it feel? Like a sexy new mare~?”
I pondered. “I’m really not used to this, but I think it’s light enough that, all in all, if I can find a couple hours to practice, I’ll be comfortable enough to wear it into battle.”
“Excellent.” A grim smile spread across Star’s face. “If you are to be at the forefront of the battle, you should be suitably protected. These foes are not to be taken lightly.”
Night nodded. “I prefer you without the barding, but if it has to be this way, I’d rather you be alive.”
“Don’t even say it.” Star gave Merri a sideways glance.
“Oh, fine, I’ll refrain from saying that Lover Boy here prefers naked Dusky butt.” Merri smirked. “Oh, wait. Oops~.”
A deathly silence filled the air. Prideful Policy's collective forces had been kind enough to both give us another day and approach with all the stealth of a lumbering dragon. Star told me she believed this to be an intentional sacrifice. Their group was large, with a strong defensive formation, built to prevent any one flank from getting overrun and flooding the whole of their army.
Another thing she noted was the low amount of pegasi amongst the main body. No doubt they were taking advantage of the heavily overcast skies to bring their own flanking forces that could strike freely at the grounded zombies. This was why I wanted Ivory to stand near the very back of the yard. She would need to fight visibly and hard enough to convince the approaching army that this was a real battle. However, we also needed to be careful not to let their air force spot the switch. Thus, she would flee into the far side's servant entrance, swapping once inside.
This left it up to Feather, Star, Blaze and I to keep the path to the safe room clear. Ideally, we wouldn't fight at all, but if we did, any bodies Ivory couldn't reanimate to move away would need to be deposited inside. To that end, Ivory had, somewhat hesitantly, taught both Star and Blaze the spell that opens the wall.
For similar reasons on the other side, Merri had also learned it. We expected few, if any of the mercenaries to be out in the stone canyons, but it would only take one scouting party to ruin our entire ruse--or worse: turn the safe room area into a giant coffin. Hopefully, Mint, Night and Icicle Gleam would be enough to cut off any runners.
I was crouched near the overgrown garden, the mess of foliage providing several pockets that could easily swallow me up. We simply couldn't let anyone approach unnoticed. Free access here could cut Ivory off in several ways. I felt especially edgy because if they sent a force too large for the four of us, we'd have to abort the ruse entirely. At that point, even escape could be difficult.
I had confidence Ivory could fight her way out of that situation, but a full-on bloodbath was the last thing anyone needed.
A horn sounded: two low toots into a higher, drawn-out one. I just about jumped out of my coat.
"Necromancer filth!" Boomed the distinct, mocking tone of Crimson Haze. "Today is the day the Crimson Hooves bring your tyranny to an end! Forward!"
A loud, collective cheer erupted, followed by the beating of hooves. Several armoured people, initially obscured by the observatory, came into view.
Their pace only seemed to quicken as the zombie ponies leapt from the brush, barring their way. The two masses collided, the battle flowing behind the wall, then ebbing back. After a few moments, the combined thug-and-mercenary force retreated, just as a small group of pegasi swooped down from the clouds. Hanging from their forehooves were some sort of pink, pot-like containers. Detaching the straps from their hooves, the air force sent pots raining down amidst the zombies, a cacophony of breaking clay echoing throughout the yard. By this point, the ground forces’ unicorns had moved to the front of the formation, flinging fireballs well over the heads of the closest zombies.
I froze. Though the manor still obstructed most of the action, it didn’t take much for me to guess what they were doing, confirmed by the glimpses of licking flames and the oh-so-pleasant stench of burning rotten flesh assailing my nostrils. I shoved my muzzle under my wing, desperately trying not to throw up—it barely worked.
Are they insane?! This whole place is going to go up in an inferno just… like… the forest. Clearly I had underestimated their willingness to risk cooking themselves just to get at Ivory.
The screeching of dead birds filled the air. Though I could only see a few of the shadows as they exited the broken windows of the amphitheatre. The mercenaries’ air force was already trying to push in on Ivory. Thankfully, they were small enough that the birds should be able to keep them occupied.
I took a few deep breaths. The battle was moving a bit faster than planned, but everything was still in a workable state. Feather, who had a better view of the main clash from her position behind one of the manor’s dusty front windows, would already know we'd need to accelerate the withdrawal. There was no need to ruin things by panicking.
“Ivory Hope!” Moss’s hickish voice echoed, drawing my eyes up to the observatory’s outer balcony. There, he stood—or wavered—something didn't quite seem right. His form seemed to sway under the sunlight, almost like rising steam.
Slowly, I shuffled backward, keeping an eye on Moss to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. It never stopped. Once I was within sight of the servant entrance, I beckoned with a hoof. “Pssst!”
Star crept out, padding silently down the path. She leaned her head in close enough that we were practically touching. “What is it?”
I raised a hoof to point, but that was when Moss’s voice boomed again. “It's me! Moss! Please, do not continue down this dark path!”
“Is he more gas than person or am I just seeing things?” I whispered.
Star squinted, her horn lighting up as she stared a good few moments. “No, something is most certainly wrong. That is… some manner of projection magic. I think.”
“You think?” I blinked, my gut beginning to feel heavy. “You’re not sure?”
Her nod was slow, contemplative. “It is a complex spell—the kind that requires a very powerful unicorn. Were it not for the spell’s sheer strength, I would not even know that it has a charm component.”
“Charm component?” I frowned. “Why?”
“Self-preservation would be my best guess. Whoever it is respects Ivory’s power. Regardless, there may be more to it than that. Such spells are rarely used for altruistic matters.” She glanced up again. “Mmmm, yes. Conveying it with such strength at such a distance would be doubly difficult. To have any reliable effect, even somepony of that aptitude would need to choose a single recipient.”
As our eyes met, I paled. “How far will it go?”
Star gave me an apologetic look. “I cannot say for certain, but given what I have seen, it could go as far as full compliance with suggestions that do not include self-harm.”
I cursed under my breath, dashing as quietly as I could into the doorway.
“Please, Ivory! Surrender! I don't want you or anypony else to get hurt!” Moss’s words cut through the manor walls with surprising ease.
Blaze saw me coming, her head just barely visible around the door frame of the drawing room. Her face told me she'd heard all of Moss’s speech.
Feather glanced back from the window as I half-skidded into the room, my armour carrying me a bit further than I’d have liked. Padding over, she shook her head, worry written across her brow. “She’s frozen up. The zombies are in total disarray. We have to get her out of there.”
“Then go,” I said. “You and Blaze.”
“What about you?” Blaze asked.
“She’s under some kind of charm spell. Star and I will find its source and cut it off.”
“What?! Isn't that in the middle of the enemy?” Blaze asked.
“It is, but we have to risk it.” I gave her an apologetic look. “We can't afford to let them sway her any further. While we're in trouble now, if the zombies turn on us, we're finished. Now go! We're running out of time!”
“Don't worry. I won't let them have my sister so easily.” With that, she slipped toward the other exit. “Let's go, Blaze.”
“Sarge,” Blaze said, sneaking a quick salute-ish gesture to me before following.
As I hurried back to Star, my mind was practically tripping over itself, shuffling through potential plans. Unfortunately, looking for the best balance of stealth and speed kept bringing me back to just landing on the top floor, rushing the unicorn and knocking them senseless.
Star was waiting at my post when I returned. She cocked her head. “Retreat?”
I shook my head. “She’s faltering. We can’t allow this spell to compromise her any further.”
“You understand we will be going deep behind the enemy line?”
Staring off at the observatory, so close, yet so far, I sighed. “Yes. But I won’t abandon Ivory in any fashion.”
“I assume you have a plan.” Star stated, moreso than asked.
“We’ll approach from the rear. Then I’ll fly us to the top. Hopefully, that will give us the element of surprise.”
“Very well. Lead the way.”
We snuck along the brush, thankful that the garden path was so overgrown. There was still a bit of a gap between the grass and the observatory, but it was at least small enough that I didn’t feel like I was throwing us into the jaws of a wolf.
The little crunches that escaped the care of our steps were barely whispers to the crackles and pops of the ongoing fires. I just hoped that the manor would be still there when we finished our business.
I kept one eye to the side as we proceeded, but of the few troops that were far enough back to maybe spot us, none gave so much as a glance back—a fact I took note of. If the pressure on Ivory was too great, there was the distinct possibility we’d have to do something stupid at the rear to create a distraction.
Once we were behind the observatory, it was trivial to wade the tall grass until we were in about the right place where the top floor would obscure us from anyone close to the manor. Ideally, this would include whoever was providing Moss with his magical audio-visual support.
I pointed up and patted my back. Star nodded, easing herself onto me. I cringed a little, very grateful that she’d enchanted my armour. The additional weight was just enough that I almost questioned whether I’d be able to carry her again. But there was no turning back now.
Flapping to my best estimation of the rhythm of the sounds of the feasting fire, I slowly, almost painfully, carried Star upward. I needed to be very careful not to overshoot. Thankfully, Star more than knew what she was doing, tapping me when we got just close enough for her to get a couple hooves around the railing.
She hopped it as though it was nothing, leaving me to do the same. We crept along the side closest to the gate, staying low. Poking my head just high enough to see over the sill of the closest window, I peered around the room. Aside from the projection, the only things keeping the room company were the telescope, still embedded into the middle of the floor, and the ruined research materials—decrepit table and all. As Star predicted, they were likely within the observatory, largely protected from harm.
I wasn’t really sure if I’d have preferred them up here, as that had its own drawbacks, but what I did know was that the stairs down would be quite perilous, as there was little cover. If they noticed us, we’d be sitting ducks. And yet, the only other option was the unoiled front door.
With a nod to Star, I slipped around the back of the projection. I didn’t know if it could actually notice me, but I wasn’t taking any chances. In any event, it didn’t budge an inch as I crept through the doorway.
That was when the floor beneath my hooves began to glow a fluorescent white light. I jumped back, getting clear of the circle, but it quickly expanded in all directions. I squeezed my eyes shut, tucking my head under my wing, just in time for a thunderous “Boom!”
Next came the grinding of metal on metal, as something slammed into my chest. A second followed closely after, sending me stumbling back. Even as my ears rang, I caught the distant plinking sound of metal hitting the observatory floor.
“I’m disappointed!” called a male voice that, while distorted and still halfway lost beneath the ringing, sounded vaguely like Moss and someone else combined. “I gave you several chances to walk away and yet, here you are. Dusky Down.”
As the world finally existed again, I peered frantically around the room. No one. Was it a magic trap?
“I suppose I am a little impressed that you did have the foresight to bring armour. I’d have been oh-so-disappointed if I’d killed you so easily.” By now, my ears had returned to relative normal, and now, I finally understood that it was not the ringing that was distorting Moss’s voice.
“Why are you here, Smokey Mirror?!” I snarled. “Your mistress is dead.”
The mixed voice laughed. “And did that stop her?”
“It didn’t stop me from stopping her,” I said, carefully scanning the seemingly empty room again. He had to be using some kind of illusion to mask his presence. My eyes fell on the barest distortion, once again like steam rising through the air. There!
I leapt forward, cleaving the spot with my wingblade. The distortion stopped, but nothing materialized.
“You stopped her?” The voice laughed again. “Well, I suppose you did set her up to take the fall. I did try so hard to thank you for it, but you rejected my warnings at every turn.”
I spun at the rattle of metal on wood, finally seeing what had hit me the first time: two sharpened, metal discs. They came at me with lightning speed. I threw myself to the side, rolling over the top of the fallen telescope. This time, a set of much more hollow pings echoed through the room.
Left with a moment to breathe, my eyes went wide. “You? You’re the one who banished her? How?!”
Dread filled my stomach. I’d no idea he was so powerful. I hoped Star was up for the fight of her life. Speaking of which, I was beginning to wonder where she was. But, after a moment, I was glad—blowing our biggest advantage would have been foolish. I just needed to keep him distracted.
“Oh, dear, Dusky. And I thought you were supposed to be smart.” His shrug was audible. “I wasn’t about to let Summer keep the fruits of her obsessive power mongering to herself. Especially when I did so much to help her gather that information.”
“So you sold her out to the Mob? Is that it?”
Again! This time I lunged forward with a quick jab. My wing gave a little as my blade met resistance, but I could already tell it had likely deflected. Too slow again.
“Don’t be absurd. There was nothing those pretenders could have offered me that wasn’t already within my grasp. No, they nearly ruined the rituals. Joke’s on them: I still came out ahead.”
A glint of light above me caught my eye. The discs came sailing down, and all I could do was turn and brace. I felt my head snap back as the first bounced off my helmet. The second deflected off the top of my barrel.
But the disc wasn’t the only thing to hit me in the head. “Then you… Why would a unicorn want to be a Shadow Walker?”
“Shadow Walker? Such an ugly, biased term. I prefer Lightbringer, thank you very much. As to why, the answer is simple. The ritual enhances the power of anypony. For me? I simply became a better unicorn—one to rival even the alicorns!”
“And next you’re going to tell me how you’re going to overthrow them and rule Equestria?”
“Hah! Why would I do that?” He almost sounded indignant. “Once we’ve slain this necromancer, we will be heralded as heroes. We can live in luxury for the rest of our lives. I’m smart enough to know that having power doesn’t mean I should pick a fight with everypony around me. Who do you think I am, Discord?”
Dramatically, I sunk into a defensive combat stance. “No. But I do think you’re as entitled as he is!”
I could almost feel his invisible glare boring into me when a fiery bolt leapt from the doorway, slamming into the middle of the air. With a grunt, an armoured pony, whose blurred form couldn't decide if it was yellow-green or bluish grey, popped into existence.
Lunging forward, I found myself just a bit too far back, his stumbling putting him at just the tip of my reach. I swung anyway, taking a swipe at his neck while he was still off balance. To my disappointment, his barding was very real.
“Not bad… but not good enough!” he yelled. The whole room became white again, then he was gone.
“Damn!” I crouched low, waiting for an attack that could come from any direction.
“Get ready!” Star called out. Before I could reply, her horn lit up and the scent of singed hair reached my nostrils.
“Agh!” Smokey Mirror’s voice came from somewhere near the stairs. Seizing the opportunity, I lunged again. This time, I felt my blade catch something softer, though it didn’t bite deep.
I was just about to try again when I found myself sailing sideways through the air, ears ringing. By the time I thought about trying to right myself, I’d already found the wall, pain crackling up my left flank.
Smokey Mirror materialized again, this time with a fresh line of red dripping down the side of his muzzle, while a couple tufts of smoke escaped the front of his barding.
“Enough games!” he growled. His metal discs crested his shoulders, whizzing toward me with a speed that made the previous attacks look lazy. I curled up, knowing I was in no position to roll out of the way.
At the last second, they veered away, a shimmering green wall making itself known. With a frustrated cry, he turned to Star, a beam of pure white lancing out, air giving way as though being cleft in two. It too struck a green wall, but instead of bouncing off, the beam continued to press against it, and I swore I could see Star being physically pushed back.
Without a second thought, I charged forward, propelling myself with my wings for extra power. One of his eyes flitted over, catching me halfway. I raised my wingblade high. I felt a tug, his magic pushing my wing well away from his neck. That was when my head rammed straight into his chin.
We both stumbled away from each other. It really would have been better if I’d been able to properly toss my head, but if it meant not having that ray of light cut through Star, then I’d live.
“Hiyaaaa!” Star came screaming in, performing a primal, deadly dance, as her hoofblade came down with precise, practiced strokes. The first took a chunk out of Smokey Mirror’s collar, but as he regained his senses, Star’s blade started turning aside.
Pushing through the soreness, I leapt to my hooves, hoping that if I coordinated with Star on his flank, we could overwhelm his defenses. He saw me coming again, of course, and the room once more washed out.
When Star and I were finally able to see each other squinting at the other, we found the light wasn’t entirely gone yet. Glancing down, I saw one of Smokey Mirror’s discs, but it was glowing, almost molten under the expanding light. Oh, shit!
As I backpedaled, wondering if we could get behind the fallen telescope in time, Star’s horn lit up and the disc flew off toward the balcony. Just as it cleared the door, there was a deafening boom, the disc consumed in its entirety. I ducked and pressed myself as tight against the telescope as I could, dozens of bits of something plinking off of both it and my armour. I cried out, trying my best to just grit my teeth, as a few pieces of shrapnel burned their way across my wing and leg.
Peering over the top of the telescope, I was treated to the sight of a wall that had been more or less turned into swiss cheese, with the balcony itself missing a section about the size of a large stallion.
“You’re mine!” Smokey Mirror’s voice echoed from the doorway. Another one of his beams appeared from thin air, cleaving through the telescope in a matter of seconds, and only stopped from doing the same to my head by Star’s barrier. The translucent green wall jerked back, then, to my surprise, pressed against my muzzle. My hooves fell all over each other as I tried to find footing while being slowly dragged across the room.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Star, her horn glowing. A bolt of fire leapt from her horn and another grunt echoed through the room, followed by the beam falling away. But just as the light died off, something settled on the floor near Star’s hooves. It began glowing, faintly at first.
“Schtar! Look out!” I screamed around my smushed muzzle. Scrambling even harder, I finally got my hooves untied from each other, crouching low. I wanted to sprint to her, to get to her, but I already knew it was too late.
Luckily, she looked down just in time, green energy forming into a dome around the disc. But as the disc exploded, the barrier shattered like glass and even though I had to look away, I saw her silhouette fly into the air.
Anger and dread collided, building in my chest until it erupted. Still mostly blind, I charged straight toward where I’d last seen the beam. “You!”
Metal met metal, grinding ear-shatteringly as our bardings collided. I gasped out—the unbraced collision should have winded me, but not that at that moment. At that moment, I wasn’t stopping. I tossed my head, feeling a satisfying crunch as something snapped away. Bringing my wingblade up, I cut across… something. All I knew was that it was hard, but not metal. Finally, I whirled, winding up the hardest buck I’d ever kicked. The crack that echoed through the room was somehow even more satisfying.
But, oddly, there was no follow-up thud. Or, at least, not immediately. A second later, there was a scream that went on for just a bit too long, followed by the most sickening, bloody crunch I’d ever heard. By now, the anger was subsiding, but the dread, it remained, continuing to rise as I turned back to face where I’d bucked.
At last, when my vision finally returned, I found myself looking at the hole in the balcony. I blinked, my mind slowly catching up, until it hit me like a blow to the head. Shit. Oh, shit!
Then the dread split two ways and I pulled my eyes away from the ruined balcony. Frantically searching the room, my eyes almost passed right over Star. She was pressed up against the right wall, bracing herself, as she stumbled to her hooves.
“Star! Are you okay?” I hurried over. There were several tiny red streaks running down the side of her face and legs and the front of her barding bore a diagonal scorch mark that moved from just to the left of her heart outward. But all in all, it seemed like she’d avoided any major injury.
“I am fine,” Star began. When I tilted my head at her, she added, “Or rather, well enough. It was a few hard knocks, but I will survive.”
Breathing out a sigh of relief, I gave her a quick hug. “Good. I’m glad.”
Star merely nodded. “Did you get him?”
The relief was gone in an instant. “Yeah, but, uh, about that. I think everyone just watched me kick ‘Moss’ off of a three-story building.”
Star nodded slowly, ears twitching as her eyes fixed on the stairs. Her lack of concern with the streaks of red trickling down her face gave her an intensity that would give even those mercenaries pause. “Reinforcements will be on their way.”
“Yeah.” I glanced back, past the swiss cheese walls, at the gaping hole in the balcony. “But... while I've got their attention, I want to buy Ivory some time.”
“Careful.” She gave me a meaningful look.
“Of course.” Trotting over to the door, I crept toward the balcony, one eye on the sky and the other on the ground. There was nothing in immediate sight, though the general scarcity of the sounds of fighting made me nervous. The crackling fire didn’t help, leaving me uncertain whether the mercenaries were waiting in ambush or if the brush fire had really gotten out of hoof. As scattered shouts fought to be heard above the fire, I could at least take solace knowing that I’d already left them in some level of disarray.
“What happened?!”
“The boss is down!”
“On our flank! Hurry!”
I’d already decided to say something, but hadn’t quite been sure what. An idea seized my hoof, leading me to where the projection had been. Edging forward, I called out, “Your boss has fallen. Further conflict is pointless! Let us end this bloodshed now!”
Below, the combined forces had split, their frontline having little choice but to fend off the scattered blobs of zombies. The flames had demolished much of the closest brush, leaving the combatants surrounded by a blackened, hellish landscape. Puffs of sooty smoke lingered in the air, obscuring the rest of the battlefield. The rear of their army had most of their attention on me, with a small squad having broken off to inspect the mangled red, blue and white remains of Smokey Mirror.
As my words echoed out amongst the crowd, many looked to Crimson Haze, the hulking mass in the midst of their forces. Slowly, his head turned, tilting up. Even from here, I could feel the chill of his stare. “Ha! That whelp? Our boss? Don't make me laugh! The smart ones follow my orders! But if your boss wants to give up, I'll be happy to oblige her defeat!”
He strode toward the flaming hellscape that was the frontline. As if on cue, the smoke shifted, giving me a view of Ivory. It was hard to tell from here, but she was standing stock-still, eyes locked on the bottom of the observatory.
Then it hit me. Shit! The illusion didn't break until Smokey Mirror died! Which means... Dusky, you idiot!
Whirling, I rushed back in.
Star was crouched by the door, where the ruined wall was just intact enough to provide cover, yet also offer a nominal view of the battlefield. She met my gaze.
Taking a deep breath, it was all I could do to keep myself coherent. “We have to go! She needs us!”
Star’s nod was immediate. “Go. I will find my own route.”
“Star?” It was my turn to give a meaningful look.
“I am too heavy. They will pick us off, which helps nopony. Besides, I know a few tricks. I will not come to harm.” She pointed a hoof at one of the many shattered windows. “Go!”
She was right, of course, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. With a sigh, I said, “Fine, you win. I’ll see you there.”
Reluctantly, I turned toward the rear. As luck would have it, the window nearest our landing point was out. Taking another deep breath, I ran toward it. Leaping over both the wall and the balcony, I flapped hard, getting just high enough to glide over the top of the mansion. Thanks to the roof, I was halfway to Ivory before one of the unicorn mercenaries glanced up.
A trio of fireballs sprung toward me. Diving hard, I waited a couple seconds, then banked equally hard. I could still feel the heat practically singing my back as the fireballs whizzed by. Thankfully, my speed quickly put me out of range.
That was when I spotted Crimson Haze, maybe thirty feet from Ivory. At this point, only one zombie buffer group remained, which swarmed toward him. His pace hardly slowed as, one by one, he tossed them aside like rag dolls.
Feather was trying to push Ivory back, somehow to no avail. I'd no idea she could dig in so well. If only it wasn't working against us.
Just a little bit forward and to the side was Blaze. Her head was swiveling, though each pass saw her lingering more and more on Crimson Haze. At last, she stepped up, barring his way. Even under her banded barding, I could see her shaking.
Damnnit, Blaze! I flapped even harder.
"Back, fiend!" she yelled, her spear floating out in front of her. She leveled it at his throat.
"Another whelp? Go home before you get hurt." He continued to advance, his lack of concern resulting in the bizarre scene of the spear scooting away from him.
"And let you hurt Ivory? No way!" Blaze swung the spear in a wide arc. Crimson Haze darted back with lightning speed.
He pushed forward again, that same unnatural speed from before letting him slip around each of her swings and jabs. It was almost like trying to watch her carve up an ocean wave. At last, he grew bored of sizing her up and held up a forehoof. As the spear touched his bracer, Blaze’s aura began to distort, seemingly sucked into his hoof. When the spear clattered to the ground, he brought that same hoof down. The shaft exploded into a shower of misshapen wooden chunks. "Pitiful."
"I-I'll show you pitiful!" Blaze yelled, pawing at the ground.
"Wait!" Feather stepped away from Ivory, but it was too late.
Blaze darted forward, throwing out a couple jabs. Crimson Haze turned just enough for each blow to deflect off his chest. With Blaze wide open, he charged, slamming his chest into hers. She tumbled across the ground, rolling with such intensity that she might be mistaken for a runaway barrel. When she finally came to a stop, the pony-shaped groove left in her wake was at least ten feet long.
"No!" Ivory was suddenly moving again, anger in her eye as a series of purple bolts leapt from her horn. To our collective dismay, Crimson Haze simply held up his bracer again and the bolts grew small enough that they plinked unceremoniously off his armour. Ivory frowned deeply, but didn’t budge.
"Stand down!" Feather leapt between them."You are interfering with Guard business!"
Crimson Haze tilted his head. "Ha! You expect me to believe that they would back a dark sorceress? Come up with a better lie!"
This far into the battle, Feather probably knew it was futile to try reasoning with him. But that was all the time I needed.
Coming in with the full force of my dive, I slammed my hooves into the back of his head. It was like hitting a brick wall, and while his head did snap forward, I felt my entire body almost following suit. I stabilized just in time, landing with merely a graceless skid—instead of on my face. Not a moment later, Crimson Haze's rancid scent nearly knocked me flat.
Turning back, I was just in time to see Feather slamming into him. While she was about half his size, catching him off guard let her send him staggering. The clang of steel on steel echoed out as Feather rained blows across his chest and helmet. Small dents appeared where her reinforced shoes found particularly good purchase.
I slipped around to his flank, though I wasn't quite sure what I could do—if Feather’s earth pony strength could barely dent his plating, my wingblade certainly wasn’t going to fare any better. Instead, I opted to wind up a good buck, planting it straight in the middle of his barrel, hoping to keep him destabilized.
Crimson Haze lashed out a forehoof, and while I quickly ducked, pain rippled across my back and I found myself spinning. I flailed, hooves trying to find a place to stabilize, but all I succeeded in doing was tripping over myself. A couple feet of tumbling later, I pushed myself up, shaking off the lingering pain.
I was just in time to see Crimson Haze lay a rather vicious headbutt into Feather’s helm, leaving a sizable dent. She tried to stumble to the side, but he was too fast, ramming straight into her, lifting her into the air as he body checked her aside.
A couple more purple bolts lanced through the air, this time curving to come from both the left and right. The first caught him in the chest and he grunted, pivoting just in time to swat the other out of the air.
Blaze's spearhead stirred, returning from its grave to strike again. It dug into the back of Crimson Haze’s helmet, bringing with it the shrill screech of metal on metal. With one smooth motion, he batted it away before facing Ivory again. Blaze was once more standing by her side.
"Give it up." Crimson Haze growled. "You cannot penetrate my armour."
"Never!" Blaze snarled back. She limped forward, defiantly holding the remains of the spear shaft in her magic.
“Magic flames, heed my call! Burn as bright as dragon fire!” Star yelled as she appeared from one of the plumes of smoke on my right. I wasn’t sure if her yelling or the infernal glow of her hoofblade drew more attention.
Regardless, Crimson Haze had already turned by the time she reached him. For the first time, I saw him take a hesitant step back. Star brought her enhanced blade down in a diagonal cut, leaving a long, uneven singe mark across his neck. The tip caught his shoulder and a terrifying roar erupted from the helmet as that bit of the armour actually separated.
Then the follow-up came, aimed straight for his head. His bracer met hers, the flames on her blade dimming as part of them were sucked into Crimson Haze’s bracer. Star ducked his counter swing, whirling to bring the blade across again. This time, the hoofblade clanged against his bracer, leaving only the slightest mark as the last of its fire fizzled out.
The rest of us converged, attacking from all sides, though our reward was just a series of dull clangs. Crimson Haze’s attacks became less focused, almost sloppy, as he tried to ward us all off at the same time. And yet, without the aid of magic, we might have had more success trying to demolish a castle with our bare hooves.
What’s more, this melee had gone on long enough that the other mercenaries were beginning to encroach on the battle. I caught glimpses of them out of the corner of my eye as Ivory frantically tried to place any remaining zombies between them and us.
Worried that we were either going to wear ourselves out or end up surrounded, I took to the air again, aiming another hard buck at Crimson Haze’s head. I wasn’t quite sure what I was trying to do. Perhaps if we could topple him, we wouldn’t have to worry about his armour at all. In the very least, the clang that followed was rather satisfying.
"Enough!" Crimson Haze screamed. His bracers glowed an ominous red-purple. The air around him exploded, my vision washed out by that same red-purple light. As I sailed through the air, I pumped my wings, trying to right myself, but the fall was too fast.
I bounced once, then twice, losing all my breath. My whole body felt like it was on fire. Judging by the scent of singed hair that came alongside my desperate gasping, I probably had been. I paddled feebly, trying to get myself upright again. Something heavy pressed painfully into the side of my head, the dirt crunching in protest beneath. I didn't need to look—I could already smell him.
"You really want me to kill you, don't you? Fine!" He pressed harder. "As! You! Wish!"
My vision went red, each crushing crunch consuming all of my thoughts—whether it was my helmet or my skull breaking, I couldn't tell. I cried out, trying to get my forehooves up around my head. Then the numbness came, leaving one last broken train.
No... No... I can't... This can't… Night… I… I’m...
All was black. All was soundless. Then, there was something. Something rising—I couldn't quite put my hoof on it. But it wasn't pain.
I reached out my forehooves. The next blow stopped dead.
As I opened my eyes, blinking through the blood dripping down my muzzle, I was treated to the sight of Crimson Haze’s hoof, held between mine. He snorted, pulled away and brought his hoof down again. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, my hooves smoothly sliding up to intercept him. His hoof stopped dead again. I twisted.
With a surprised grunt, Crimson Haze toppled, rolling sideways away from me. To my disappointment, he had little trouble using the momentum to carry him back to his hooves.
And yet, as I stood, something inside me told me it didn’t matter. Before I knew what I was doing, I was advancing on him. He held his ground, but his stance shifted ever-so-slightly.
I rammed into him and he staggered back, just in time for my head toss to catch him under the chin. It was a stupid idea, smashing a broken scale helm into full plate armour, but, somehow, he was the one reeling.
Rather than ask questions that would just slow me down, I pressed my advantage, barraging him with alternating wing and hoof strikes. Oddly, he always seemed a step behind, hunkering down as I pushed him here and there. What’s more, being up in his face didn’t make me want to throw up.
Whirling, I planted a hard buck into his chest, and it must have been my imagination, but I swore I felt the plating give way—if only a little.
“Grah!” Crimon Haze’s grunt was guttural, almost wild, as he was propelled back a few inches, skidding in the ashen dirt. He took a couple steps even further back, his stance deepening. “So the filly has spunk. Well, then, come on!”
I zigged left, then right, coming in hard with a hoof strike, then bringing my wing blade over top, aiming for his helmet's eye slit. He got his own hoof up in time, cleanly deflecting me.
Quickly dropping my right forehoof, I put a left jab into his neck, where the armour had melted, and tried again. And again. I couldn’t get my blade in, but I wasn’t going to object if he kept giving me free hits—even if their effectiveness was limited.
At last, I felt my wingblade catch something, but it wasn’t the helmet. No, it had somehow snagged the bracer, carving the start of a fine line into it before shattering with a shrill, heartbreaking ping! I caught the barest glimpse of the line growing deeper, zigzagging across the bracer.
Then he shoved me back, a vicious series of right-left barrages coming my way. Even though I was able to block or dodge well over half of them, I could feel the assault wearing on me. Despite my newfound strength, his size advantage practically enclosed me.
He spun and I ducked, waiting for the buck so that maybe I could go for his underside. His tail slashed across my muzzle, that forgotten razor splattering blood all over the ground. While it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, I found myself stumbling back.
His chest collided with mine and I was airborne again, then on my back, still moving across the ground at a frightening speed. I flailed, trying to ward off the ash and dirt as I came to a stop.
“Dusky!” Ivory appeared over me, though something was wrong. She looked especially haggard, like she’d been picked up and thrown across the courtyard several times. A line of pale purple light streamed from her horn to… me.
Oh. Oh! I shook my head and groaned, pointing a hoof at the line. “Ivory? What are you doing?”
Her eyes flitted down to the beam for just a moment. “What is necessary.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t dodge the question, Ivory.”
“It’s not a dodge, it’s…” she sighed. “I’m empowering you. Direct magic can’t get through.”
With a frown, I shook my head again. “There’s no way that’s the whole story. You look like hell, Ivory.”
Ivory glanced up and I followed her gaze. Star, Blaze and Feather were barring Crimson Haze’s path again, but they didn’t seem to be faring any better than I did.
Looking down, Ivory leaned in close. “Okay, it’s… more of a life link... I think.”
“You think?” I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
“It just… came to me. When he was laying into you, smashing your head into a pulp, I just knew I couldn’t let it end that way. So… I guess I threw something together. Trust me, Dusky, I wouldn’t keep using it if we weren’t desperate.”
Another of Crimson Haze’s grunts drew my eye again. Small, but obvious, fiery sparks were falling away from his left bracer. One of Star’s fireballs had connected. One of Star’s fireballs had connected.
“Ivory, I’m not strong enough—even with your power. But I don’t have to be. His bracer is damaged. Take your power back and fight. No, wait…” An idea hit my mind and ran away with it. It was crazy. It made me a hypocrite. But it was just what we needed. I met Ivory’s eye. “Reverse the link.”
“What?!” Ivory gave me a horrified look. “No, Dusky, I can’t.”
“You asked me to trust you. I do. You won’t overdo it. I know it. You know it.” I put on my best reassuring smile.
Biting her lip, Ivory wrestled with herself, several pained looks passing over her face. She started as Blaze sailed past us, tumbling end over end. With a shudder, Ivory nodded, determination slowly creeping up her muzzle. She took a deep breath. “No more running.”
Ivory’s horn lit up, and that feeling of invincibility slowly drained away. However, unlike the Ghost Petal, which had practically left me crippled, a mere tingling sensation crept over my coat, leaving a chill in its wake. As her aura grew brighter, cold turned to warmth. Though I’m no magician, in that moment, I knew we were connected. Ivory gave me a bit of a sad smile before rushing off to cover her sister.
Star and Feather were on each of that hulking juggernaut’s flanks, dirt and ash spraying up around them as they took turns darting in, then retreating. Crimson Haze was paying special attention to Star, more wary of her dragonfire spell with his cracked left bracer. Still, as always, it wasn’t enough to completely halt his advance.
I gritted my teeth, hoping Ivory could at least disable him enough for us to withdraw, slim as the chances of a clean getaway were. Ideally, a decisive defeat would almost assuredly get the rest of the army to stand down, but such a task was daunting—even for Ivory.
The tingling returned, followed by a ball of warmth rising in my chest. It slipped out into the air, though I couldn’t see it. Moments later, a trio of purple fireballs formed around Ivory, lashing out toward Crimson Haze. He raised his right bracer, deftly deflecting the first bolt.
As soon as that forehoof went up, Star was lunging forward, blade sailing toward that small slit of melted armour—and just about ran face first into the gleaming arc of his tail. She pivoted just in time, ducking and bounding away.
Quickly switching, Crimson Haze swatted at the second ball with his left bracer. Though it shrunk, the scream that echoed through the courtyard told me it was definitely not enough. He staggered, small searing tongues of purple lingering on his hoof for a second.
Now it was Feather’s turn, though I didn’t have a good view of her. I want to say she body checked him, but it could also easily have been a well-placed buck that left his stance even more precarious. Regardless, it seemed nothing could stop the third fireball from colliding with his head.
Except for him going with the momentum, turning himself into a living projectile as he rather ungracefully launched himself in Star’s direction.
Unfortunately for Star, she was moving in for another go at his chink, and she took the hit full on. With a yelp, she was quickly tangled up into a flailing ball of limbs. They tumbled end over end as Ivory’s fireball whizzed past overhead. A couple of the onlooking mercenaries scrambled to get clear of its unwavering path.
Crimson Haze’s tail came around again. Though much less precise, it was definitely in the neighbourhood of Star’s head. Even as she fell, her own blade was up, parrying the tail razor with just enough force that it only trimmed her forelock.
Despite being half out of control, their deadly dance suddenly made me painfully aware of just how much Crimson Haze had been sizing me up during the first half of our duel.
Of course, Star was still under his shadow, and if this continued, she was just going to end up a pancake. I glanced over at Ivory, hoping she could do something.
My body tingled again, this time a full chill washing over my entirety. Like clockwork, the warmth followed, departing my chest once more. Again, I couldn’t see it, but I could almost feel the translucent purple barrier that formed around Star. It completely enveloped her, though it was less a bubble and more like the outer shell of a giant, ovular gem.
While Star wasn’t crushed, she was still stuck inside the gem-shield, which was in turn pinned under a large, angry warrior camel. He raised a hoof, intent on smashing his way through.
Next thing I knew, Feather was on his back, intent on pummeling her way through his helm. He did his damnedest to shake her off, but the whole pile-of-bodies thing made it more of an awkward wiggle.
It was the perfect opportunity for Ivory and as I felt my heart race, multiple streaks of cold and hot slipped over my body, disappearing into the aether to join Ivory’s power.
That was when it hit me.
I’d never quite understood Twilight when she’d talked about her seemingly endless slew of battles against Equestria-destroying evils and how there were points where her friendship had become a tangible—almost weaponized—force of its own.
But in that moment, I finally did. And in that moment, a second train came in and nailed me in the back of the head: what Ivory had done to keep me alive, that’s what she’d done to Moss’s cat. It wasn’t about pure power, but will. The will to help a friend.
The energy congealed into another barrage of fireballs, which Ivory threw with much greater precision than last time.
With a roar, Crimson Haze rose, somehow ignoring the assault that had left at least three very visible dents in the back of his helmet. Holding his good bracer up, a pulse of purple energy exploded outward, launching Feather well clear of him. She disappeared into one of the further smoke plumes.
Star was sent skipping across the ground, her shield cracking on the first bounce, then shattering on the second. She stuck her forehooves out, just barely avoiding landing on her neck, but the momentum turned that into an awkward head-over-hooves tumble—straight over a cluster of rubble. As she came to a stop, she let out a groan, reaching out one hoof before falling motionless.
“Star!” was all I could croak out before my attention was pulled back to the searing heat whizzing overhead. Several more of Ivory’s fireballs rained down in a messy ring around Crimson Haze, some far enough out that the mercenaries abandoned their zombie opponents to seek cover again.
There was a deafening explosion behind me and when I glanced back, a good six-by-six-foot chunk was missing from the manor wall.
I couldn’t quite believe it, but I had to assume Crimson Haze’s counterattack had deflected the entirety of Ivory’s assault. With a grimace, I looked over at Ivory, doing my best to channel my worry into something she could use.
Crimson Haze was already charging, the line between him and Ivory now empty.
For her part, Ivory swayed a little, but otherwise held her ground.
Once he was within about fifteen feet, the ground exploded, crystalline purple spikes forming a wicked barrier. But he was already leaping aside, the speed of his shift defying the logic of his size.
However Ivory had more where that came from. Two more barriers sprung into being, each one coming a little closer to Crimson Haze. The only thing that was stopping the spikes from forming a solid wall was a gap roughly front and centre with Ivory.
I had to assume she was purposefully funneling him. And there was no way he didn’t realize that. Yet he pressed ahead. As the spikes came up, he swung his right forehoof in a wide arc, shattering them like glass.
The shards seem to fall in slow motion, light playing off the crystalline dust as it lingered in the air. An instant later, it was all gone, consumed in purple fire as the bolt slammed straight into Crimson Haze’s chest.
His cry was half pain, half crazed. The bits of fire that clung to his armour didn’t even seem to slow him down as he charged straight at Ivory.
The shimmering purple barrier materialized just in time, instantly buckling under that juggernaut’s body slam. The misshapen shield seemed to scoop Ivory up, bouncing her away as she fumbled to keep her footing.
Not about to let Ivory have any kind of breathing room, he was already bounding after her. In any other situation, it would have almost been comical, what with the irregular angles of Ivory’s bounces and Crimson Haze just a step behind as he scrambled after her.
At last, her path took her straight through one of the thick black plumes of smoke. Undaunted, Crimson Haze was still right behind her.
Come on, Ivory. Get up! Get out of there! I could feel the sweat practically matting both my forehead and forelock.
Then Ivory was ragdolling out of the smoke, landing hard on the courtyard ground.
With a triumphant bellow, Crimson Haze arced out behind her, landing straight on her barrel with a sickening crunch. From there, he began to lay into her face.
No! No, no, no! I scrambled to my hooves. This must have been what Ivory felt, except… I had no magic, no spells up my sleeve to save her with.
Even as my heart raced, filling my body with fire, I felt slow and heavy. There was no way I could fly. And at the rate I was going, it would take me a year to reach them. Hell, at this point, I was convinced the adrenaline was the only reason I was even moving toward them.
With one final, brutal kick, Crimson Haze sent something sailing through the air. It couldn’t be her head. I refused to believe it. No. There was no way. No way at all. My whole body shuddered, about to empty the entirety of my innards onto the ground.
The ground around Crimson Haze exploded. A thick C-shape of crystal spikes formed around him, the only opening pointing toward a silhouette in the smoke.
Out stepped Ivory—the real Ivory—visible eye glowing an unsettling white as a seemingly unending stream of fireballs launched over her shoulder and into the crystalline prison. It was almost like a huge, deformed cauldron, bits of purple fire leaping clear of the rim seemingly at random. Each impact echoed out into the courtyard, giving everyone else pause.
I fell to my rump, half-crying, half-laughing at the fact that I’d just effectively tricked myself.
“Grah!!!” Crimson Haze’s cry of rage filled the courtyard—and was no less unsettling than the sounds that had come before.
The crystal barricades exploded, another purple pulse ripping through them. I pressed myself against the ground, shielding myself with my wings as debris tinkled down around me. When I finally felt safe enough to squeeze an eye open, my heart fell a little.
Crimson Haze remained standing, though he was subtly favouring his right side. Smoke and tiny bits of purple flame littered his armour. And while said armour still looked more or less intact, his limp reminded me of something my mother had once told me: Even if your armour is the best in Equestria, it can’t stop everything. Inside, you’re still flesh and bone. Every little impact adds up.
I couldn’t celebrate just yet, though. While Ivory looked like she’d found some way to avoid the magic pulse, she was sagging. I had little doubt that using this much magic was also starting to wear on her. I tried to will more aid to her, but at this point, even attempting that felt like a struggle.
Lunging again, Crimson Haze went in for what could very well be the final exchange. Another smaller barricade of crystals appeared right in front of him, but rather than go around, he just smashed straight through.
Ivory’s eye went wide, and she took a quick step back, but was still able to get that translucent barrier up in time. Unfortunately, it wasn’t able to fully stop his blow, and though it almost slowed to the point where he seemed like he was striking through water, it caught Ivory’s muzzle.
She rolled across the ground, head passing just inches away from the remains of a thick wooden support beam. The top had been shattered and splintered, leaving maybe eight feet of height from where it had impaled in the ground. I wasn’t sure when it had fallen, but given the half-dozen sizable holes in the second floor of the manor, there had been ample time.
Though Crimson Haze’s limp slowed him down, he still moved unnaturally fast, charging at Ivory before she had a chance to get up.
“Ivory!” I shouted. Or rather, tried to. My throat was so raw that I could barely reach my normal volume. Ivory, what are the chances you made a second body double?
Her head tilted, horn glowing faintly as she looked up at the approaching freight train.
A sharp wooden crack drew my attention to the support beam. Crimson Haze paid it no heed, running straight into the singular, foot-long crystal shard that erupted from its surface.
He let out a grunt mixed with surprise and rage, smashing the crystal with his right bracer and continuing on. But, if my eyes didn’t deceive me, there were little splotches of red forming on the ground beneath him.
Regardless, he was distracted just long enough for Ivory to scramble to her hooves and back away.
He began to advance again, albeit much more slowly. In turn, Ivory’s responses were just as slow and only single shards or smaller bolts. Worry filled my mind once more—as long as that one bracer remained intact, a battle of attrition was liable to end in his favour.
Once Crimson Haze was within one quick hop of Ivory, he raised his right bracer. The pulse it emitted was weak, almost pathetic, compared to before, but I imagined setting it off so close could have easily knocked Ivory over. Fortunately, she was prepared, erecting another translucent barrier.
Unfortunately, so was he. He swung around, planting a single hind hoof into the barrier, which cracked and shattered under the combined pressure. At first, I wondered why it wasn’t a full buck, but as that cursed tail razor glinted in whatever sun managed to make it down to us, I realized its arc was headed straight for Ivory’s head.
I wanted to call out, but I was already practically too late by the time I picked up on his strategy. That was when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a splinter of wood jetting through the air toward him. I couldn’t be certain, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was from the remains of Blaze’s spear. Once it was closer, it shot forward with vicious purpose, slipping between the chink Star had cut in Crimson Haze’s barding, then twisting.
Letting out a bloody howl, he reared up, tail forgotten as it went completely wide. Leaping out from the nearby debris, Blaze slammed into him, bowling him over. The rebound just about launched her off in the other direction, though sheer zeal seemed to let her pedal through the momentum.
Rushing over, she started kicking wherever she could get a hoof in, trampling him—or at least, as much as a mare can trample someone over twice her size. “Leave my friend alone, you son of a bitch!”
Crimson Haze squirmed a little, no doubt winded from the fall. Indeed, after a few seconds of curb stomping, he swung his leg around, taking out all three of Blaze’s as she raised her forehoof for another kick. He brought his hoof back across, catching Blaze square in the cheek, blood spraying into the air as the sheer force of his strike cut her.
Undaunted, she reversed momentum, bringing in an odd, arcing haymaker from her far side into his helmet hard enough that I could hear the clang quite clearly from where I lay.
With a grunt, he lashed out, catching her in the stomach. As Blaze wheezed on the ground, he used the opportunity to scramble back to his hooves. He hurriedly stomped his left forehoof, aiming to turn Blaze’s muzzle into a pancake. She rolled out of the way just in time, though she took the bold route of rolling under him. This did at least allow her to take a shot at his underside, but the following clang was a disappointment for us both.
With a derisive snort, Crimson Haze brought his right forehoof down, this time with proper balance granting him far greater speed. Blaze only got halfway through her roll before he dug into her ribs with a sickening crack!
Blaze let out a pained yelp, but determination quickly washed over her face as she wrapped her hooves around his. “H-hah! Gotcha!”
There was that awkward moment where neither I, nor Crimson Haze, seemed to see what she was getting at. But as I felt the familiar chill-into-warmth cross my body, I realized that Ivory had been oddly absent. I glanced over where I’d last seen her.
She was still standing there, hooves wide in a deep, bracing stance. She mouthed something to herself as she stared past Crimson Haze. Her horn’s aura quietly grew larger. Moments later, the ground to her right erupted, though oddly enough, in a much less dramatic fashion than her crystal walls.
A single spike shot forth, springing forward like some kind of deadly sand worm. And it just kept coming. Three feet. Four. Five.
Crimson Haze tugged at his right hoof, but found Blaze still clinging to it. I had to imagine she was giving him the biggest shit-eating grin right then and there.
Flailing, he nearly tripped over Blaze as he held up the left, cracked bracer. The crystal spike began to shatter, splitting against the armour, same as before—until it didn’t.
A cry of pure pain erupted from inside that helmet as the bracer cracked all the way through. The two pieces now hung ineffectually around the magic spike that was at least a foot into his foreleg. As he sunk to the ground, both forehooves immobilized, he looked up at Ivory. “Do it. Finish… this.”
Ivory let out a long sigh and shook her head. “Don’t you think there has been enough death and suffering today?”
“You are not…” He sat there, chest heaving up and down. I could only wager he was giving Ivory a dumbfounded stare from under that helmet. After an eternity, he shook his head. “Very well. I yield.”
I could hardly believe it was over. And neither could the combined mercenary and militia force, if their collective gawking was anything to go by. Hell, even the zombies seemed to be feeling it—silly as the notion was—as they swayed unsteadily, barring the way with their half-broken bodies.
There was just something in my gut that told me this ordeal wasn’t over. Any minute now, Crimson Haze would reveal that his surrender was all a ruse, and his forces would fall upon us like a tide, washing our weary bodies away.
Ivory was doing her best to stand tall, keeping a close eye on her captive. Meanwhile, Blaze seemed to be unsure whether or not to let go of Crimson Haze’s leg, though her muzzle being so wrinkled as to resemble an accordion made her preference rather obvious.
My ears twitched, picking up the faint beating of wings over the now failing flames. I felt my heart race again, to which my body responded by simply aching. Panic filled my mind as readily as the idea that some reserve air force of Crimson Haze’s was moving in on us. But as I turned, craning my neck to get a better look, I pushed the idea away.
One, two… maybe three sets of wings. That’s not very many. Maybe...
That train of thought ended as Night came into view. Never had I been so glad to see him—doubly so as he got closer. I frowned, his hardships written all over his coat in isolated streams of red. I was almost afraid to ask.
“Night?”
He hurried over, wrapping his forehooves around me. I winced, every inch of my body feeling like I’d been hauling a cart of goods ten times my weight for a week straight. Since the alternative was feeling like I’d been beaten within an inch of my life, I simply accepted it and stole a quick nuzzle.
“D-Dusky… thank Celestia you’re still alive.” Night was grimacing, just barely keeping the tears from escaping his eyes.
“You too, Night. It’s not over yet, though.” It wasn’t until I shifted to look back at Blaze and Ivory that I realized how much I’d been leaning on him. My legs felt like jelly and just staying upright took all my willpower.
Night leaned in a little, urging me to rest against him. I obliged, though just a little—he wasn’t in the best of shape, either.
As I continued to survey the charred courtyard, he said, “It’ll be over soon enough, Dusky. We… we brought Prideful. And the Guard has reinforcements coming in a matter of minutes. I can’t tell if we’ve won or lost anything at all, but it’s over, and you’re still alive.”
For just a moment, I allowed myself to rest my head in his mane. Even if we had won, this was going to be one hell of an aftermath. Getting sloppy now would be a mistake. “And now we just have to make sure everyone else is still alive too.”
My first concern was Blaze, who had finally decided to detach herself from Crimson Haze’s leg. As I got closer, I realized she didn’t need to be there anymore—Ivory’s spike hadn’t just impaled his leg, but pinned it to the ground.
Blaze limped over to meet us, putting on a brave smile. “Phew, glad that’s over. That guy smelled worse than pig dung sunning all day. Thought I was gonna ralph all over his—hurp!”
She got halfway turned before she emptied her stomach onto the ground. Quite frankly, though, it was probably one of the least disgusting things to happen on this battlefield.
“You okay, Blaze?” I trotted over. “Let me see your ribs.”
“They’re fine, just a little sor—” She stood up straight, chin held high—and immediately cringed. “Ow!”
I sighed. “Now is not the time for that, Blaze. Let me patch you up.”
Before she could answer, I was already digging through my satchel. When I looked up, I found Night staring at me. “What?”
“What about you?” he asked, eying me up and down.
I smiled weakly. “It’s weird, but Ivory’s magic negated the worst of my wounds. I can get the rest fixed up once we have more supplies.”
An incredulous look spread across Night’s face. Slowly, it melted into sadness, then a nod. I supposed with the way I must have looked, such a statement probably sounded like total bullshit. To that end, I appreciated that he respected my judgment.
Thankfully, Blaze’s ribs were just cracked, instead of halfway-caved, like I’d feared. I quickly wrapped her barrel, hoping that it would be enough until we could get her some real medical aid.
“That does feel a bit better. Thanks, Dusky.” Blaze grinned.
“You’re wel—” I began, but the crunching of hooves on ashen dirt made me whirl in a way that must have appeared comically slow to anyone else. “Star! Feather!”
Though battered and bruised, they cantered over with surprising speed. I supposed that were both used to fighting, but being thrown a dozen feet through the air is the kind of thing that will leave even a veteran smarting.
“Looks like you have the situation under control,” Star said as she surveyed the field.
I nodded. “Mostly thanks to Ivory. I’m so glad to see you’re safe! Where were you two, anyway?”
“Once I saw Ivory’s true power, I became certain I couldn’t do anything to help without hampering her own abilities.” Feather glanced over at Crimson Haze. “So I made it my mission to make sure there was no interference from his side.”
“The battle itself seemed to discourage the main force enough. For certain, approaching Ivory from the front would have been suicidal,” Star added. “Which is why we stuck to the flanks, watching for anypony who thought they could sneak around.”
In the end, it was probably me that they protected more than Ivory. After all, if anyone had figured out what was going on, I wasn’t sure how much of a fight I could have put up. I gave them a tired smile. “Thanks for covering us.”
“Mercenaries! Militia of Pasture!” Mint called out, as she hovered just above Crimson Haze’s position. She and Icicle Gleam were side by side, holding something that I presumed was Prideful Policy. “This battle is over! The Equestrian Guard has claimed your leader! The rest of our forces will arrive shortly! If you value your life, you will lay down your weapons and cooperate! Do this and I will guarantee your safety!”
With that, silence fell over the battlefield. After a moment, she prodded at Prideful Policy, who sounded a little odd when he spoke without his trademark pompous tone, “It is as she says! Do not throw away your lives!”
Murmurs erupted throughout the crowd. None of them were laying down their arms, but neither were they moving. I furrowed my brow—such indecision scared me. At any moment, panic could take hold. They might scatter or they might decide to overrun us, feeling they’d be better off regrouping and making a last stand.
My mind continued to run wild with scenarios, only getting suitably distracted when Mint and Icicle Gleam touched the blackened ground. As they lowered the bound Prideful Policy to the ashes, I couldn’t help but notice he looked a bit roughed up.
Good. Maybe now he understands what it’s like to be on the receiving end.
He didn’t struggle, though he did crane his neck to look over at Crimson Haze. “Oh. You’re still here.”
Crimson Haze’s impassive helmet turned its steely gaze upon Prideful Policy. Even with one leg essentially nailed to the ground, I thought he might just reach out and crush Prideful Policy’s windpipe. “We aren’t your fanatics. We don’t fight to the last for such a paltry sum.”
“P-palty!? Why you—” Prideful Policy began, but as a shadow fell over him, his head snapped back to look up.
“Prideful,” Ivory said.
“Necromancer.” His gaze hardened. “What now? Are we all to become your zombie slaves? Is that your endgame!?”
Ivory sighed. “I’m tired of this. Aren’t you?”
“Of course I am!” He furrowed his brow. “Why do you think I was trying to get rid of you?”
“And you think this was all worth it?” Ivory motioned across the ashen hellscape. “Destroying my home, burning down the forest, imprisoning your people—”
“Protecting them. From you.” Prideful Policy scowled. “They were scared, Necromancer, so I built them fortifications.”
I frowned, doing my best to refrain from interfering just yet. While I couldn’t stand him continuing to vilify Ivory, this was her fight.
A sad look fell across Ivory’s face as she stared at Prideful Policy. After a moment, I was pretty sure it was pity. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure what she could say to stop him from spouting more of his rhetoric. Seemed she didn’t either, as the awkward silence dragged out into five seconds, then ten.
After another ten, Prideful gave out this bored, put-upon sigh. “Well? What are you waiting for? You’ve wanted this for years, haven’t you?”
Ivory shook her head. “Look… Prideful, I’m sorry.”
“What?” Confusion washed over his face and I thought he might fall over backward.
“I was young and the magic was unstable. I shouldn’t have volunteered something I didn’t fully understand, especially not for something as important as your grandma.” Ivory let out a sigh of her own. “So, I’m sorry. But, Prideful, this has been going on for a very long time. Do you really think a single slight justifies all this pain and destruction?”
What started as a chuckle became a laughing fit, echoing out into the silent courtyard. It wasn’t filled with malice, no, perhaps more akin to madness. When Prideful Policy at last regained control, he’d drawn every possible stare.
Ivory narrowed her visible eye. “What’s so funny?”
“‘I’m sorry’. Never did I think I’d ever hear those words come out of your mouth.” He looked up at her. “I could question your sincerity, but… I suppose your point stands regardless, doesn’t it? Fine, you win. We’ll do things your way. It’s not like I have much of a choice, anyhow.”
Night, Blaze, Star, Feather and I all exchanged a look.
“What was that, even?” Night turned back to stare.
“I think it’s about as close to an apology as Ivory is going to get,” I replied.
Feather sighed. “Of course. The ‘politician’s apology.’”
“Certainly one of the things I do not miss about court.” Star shook her head.
Blaze made a mock flourish, rolling her eyes the whole time. “Fillies and gentlecolts, the Mayor of Pasture.”
“Makes me wish I’d hit him harder. Hard enough to knock out his ego, at least. But that’d probably have been impossible.” Night frowned.
I was about to give him a smirk when the sound of beating wings turned my eyes skyward again. A dozen pegasi in golden armour were descending on all sides of us. Unlike the militia, this barding was both the proper shape and polished to as much of a shine as anyone was going to get way out here in the boonies. Part of me was relieved, but the other part realized just how unhappy these Guards were. Of course, the complete lack of camouflage told me that this was only logical: these were the elite, here to intimidate all hostilities into nothingness.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could also see a line of gold slipping into existence behind the mercenary-militia coalition. Only a few of the keener mercenaries had turned in time to see them.
One of the larger mares stepped forward from the pegasus line. “Weapons down! Hooves where we can see them!”
My entire body was one giant, sore muscle. Just the thought of doing anything hurt. Still, I grit my teeth and pushed through, getting my eyes open to some sort of quarter-to-half squint that I’m sure must have made me look deranged.
A faded blue ceiling and accompanying walls greeted me. Though I was still groggy, I immediately knew I was in the Sunny Skies Inn. My mind latched on to the thought and ran, the ridiculous notion that maybe this had all been a dream, that my imagination had formed some kind of adventure surrounding the legend of Pasture’s necromancer.
Shaking that off, I sat up—perhaps a bit too fast, as soreness turned to pain and I found myself staring straight up at the ceiling. With a sigh, I took a few moments to collect myself, instead simply shifting my head side to side. I was definitely in an inn bed, stock brown headboard and all.
The dresser was there, too, as was the little round table. On the latter stood a sturdy, grey metal tin, an unmistakable golden cross emblazoned on it. With that, I brushed away the last of my mind’s bizarre dream notions.
It drifted over to vague memories. One thing I knew for certain was that the Guard had not been especially gentle. Which isn’t to say that they’d been mandhandling me or anything, but they engaged in all the formalities that involved arresting me. To be perfectly fair, I’d just been part of a big battle in which we’d engaged in open civil war.
There was something about checking me for weapons, then loading me onto a stretcher. They’d carried me for some time, but I couldn’t remember where or for how long. Of course, knowing where I was, I could make an educated guess, but I must have passed out along the way.
The thought dawned on me that I had no idea what happened to anyone else. I was moving again, gritting my teeth as I fought to sit up. At last, I was off my back, panting heavily.
Next was the floor. One hoof, then two. Then rump. Shaking it off, I stretched my hindquarters. My hind legs weren’t so much numb as more liquid than a lazy cat. With some extended coaxing, I was finally able to get them past the last two battles, pushing myself upright.
Shuffling at a rate that took me far too long to reach the door, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Granny Smith felt every day. The thought that this might be my normal some day was terrifying. Letting out a sigh, I chided myself. I could worry about that after I made sure everyone else was okay.
The door was propped open, much to the relief of my joints. I don’t know why, but I felt apprehensive about entering the hall, lingering in the doorway a moment longer.
“You must understand,” a stallion’s voice that I didn’t recognize echoed down the hall. It had a certain smoothness to it, yet underlying that was a clear tone of exasperation. “When Golden Banner asked us for assistance with the wounded from some infighting, we were not prepared for… him.”
“Look.” Mint’s voice was music to my ears. “Between you and me, I’m not too keen on him either, but he surrendered and came peacefully. We can’t just leave him to his wounds.”
“I’m not saying that. I’m saying my staff are doctors, not soldiers. They’re not trained to deal with… whatever it is he does to them.” The stallion sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Doctor Panacea,” Mint said. I couldn’t see her, but her meaningful look was all but audible.
“Yes, of course. I do have one other patient I have to attend to first.” Doctor Panacea rounded the corner—and just about bowled me over. He half-turned, skidding to a halt, blonde mane flapping against his pure white coat, and giving me a clear view of the flask on his well-chiseled flank. “Oh, you’re up! You should not be moving around on your own like this.”
“She’s up?” Night’s bandaged head poked around the corner. When our eyes met, he hurried over and wrapped his hooves around me, prompting the doctor to turn.
“Careful! Calm down!” Doctor Panacea called out. “She is still in the late stages of recovery.”
Mint appeared next. “That is calm. At least, compared to before.”
I was mid-nuzzle with Night, so I got to multi-task raising my free eyebrow. “Oh?”
“When he found out you were in separate rooms, he wanted to move right away.” Mint chuckled. “I had to talk him out of rushing out past the guards before they’d even sorted out who was who.”
Taking a step back, I turned my raised eyebrow to Night. “Is that so?”
He smiled sheepishly. “I was worried.”
“While that’s sweet,” I gave him a smirk, “you know I’m not helpless. Plus, we’re among friends now. There’s no need to do anything rash.”
“R-right, I just…” He pressed up against me.
“I know,” I said, nuzzling back. “I missed you too.”
Doctor Panacea cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I do have another patient waiting. I’ll try to keep this brief.”
I glanced between Night and Mint, then back at Doctor Panacea. “Go ahead. They’re family.”
“As I said, you are in the late stages of recovery, from life-threatening wounds that should have taken months to recover.” Doctor Panacea’s pointed at my head. “You are very fortunate to have been the recipient of some of the most powerful healing magic I have ever seen. That said, you are not fully healed. If you must move about, you must be accompanied. And this goes without saying, but do not do anything strenuous. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
It was Night’s turn to give me a look.
“Good. If you need anything, the nurse’s station is around the corner, third door on the left.” And with that, Doctor Panacea was gone.
“Sorry about that.” I wrapped a wing around Night. “I know that gives you more reason to be worried, but I’m fine. Ivory and I kept each other alive.”
“I’m glad.” He rested his head against mine.
Several moments passed and when I looked up, Mint was still standing there, grinning. When I caught her eye, her grin widened. “You two are adorable together.”
I laughed. “Believe it or not, that’s a common opinion.”
“Even if one of them is Terra’s.” Night blushed a little.
Mint shrugged. “Well, you have my totally unbiased opinion to make up for it.”
“Right.” I laughed again.
“Anyway, I’m about to go talk to Golden Banner about the whole situation.” Mint motioned down the hall. “You two are free to come along if you’d like. I’m sure Blaze would be happy to see you up and about.”
Doctor Panacea’s words came back to me, though by this point, the soreness was blunted, almost distant. And going with Night and Mint would technically mean I was accompanied. I nodded. “Sure. I’d like to check in on everyone else, anyway.”
---
Mint led us to a wing of the inn that, to my surprise, had three conference rooms. I suppose I really shouldn’t have been, knowing Prideful Policy’s far-reaching ambitions for the town’s prosperity. In any event, the doors on the left and right were closed, leaving only the central room—which was presumably the largest of them.
There were four Guards outside, with at least four more standing at attention inside. Such excessiveness had me casting a wary eye upon them. However, they barely paid us any mind, only stopping to salute Mint as we walked in.
A long, thick oak table took up half the room, with chairs arrayed around it. Various crates were shoved off into whichever corners could hold them while a standing chalkboard squeezed in between them. It didn’t look like the command centre, but they were clearly staging something out of here.
Near the back of the room were four people. Right smack in the middle of everyone was Ivory, her white coat oddly naked without her cloak. Perhaps it was more so the fact that her cutie mark was bared for all the world to see.
On either side of Ivory was fire, though not the choking hellish flames of our previous battle. No, Blaze’s orange and Feather’s gold were more akin to a hearth, a comfort in all this turmoil.
And standing directly in front of the trio was a mare I’d only gotten a passing glance at. Her coat was a very subtle orange, like the barest edges of dawn. If I didn’t have Ivory’s coat there for comparison, I’d almost have thought it white. All her colour seemed to have gone into her two-toned mane, the orange-and-red mix rivaling Blaze’s own fiery red.
“Captain Banner.” Mint stood at attention.
“Sergeant,” Golden Banner, turned a steely gaze upon Mint. “You’re late.”
Mint nodded. “Sorry. Crimson Haze’s arrangements took longer than expected. The medical staff isn’t too keen on him.”
“Of course.” A sympathetic frown crossed Golden Banner’s face. “Truth be told, I’d heard stories, but never imagined it would be that bad.”
“As many things in the field go,” Feather added. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blaze nodding along.
“So it would seem.” Next, Golden Banner’s attention fell upon me. “Dusky Down, yes? How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” The words came out a little more stiffly than I’d intended. Something about her put me just a little on edge. Perhaps it was that instinctual urge to side with Ivory.
Golden Banner eyed me another moment before speaking, “Relax. This isn’t an interrogation. Several members of our force have already vouched for you, my protege included. What I would like to ask is a favour.”
“What kind of favour?” I cocked my head, though I could already guess where this was going.
“Detailed third-party accounts of all that has gone on out here are in regrettably short supply,” Golden Banner replied. “I’d like you to tell me what you know, and commit to testimony, if necessary.”
Internally, I couldn’t help but chuckle. I wondered how many more times this was going to happen. If this really was the end of the Cartel, though, this would be my safest testimony yet. Still, I had one other worry. “On the condition that I give my input in Canterlot, alongside Ivory’s.”
Golden Banner frowned. “I’m afraid that is beyond my authority to grant. I can put in a request to add you to the interview, but the best I can promise is that a written copy of your testimony will be in that room at the same time.”
It was my turn to frown. The counteroffer was a little weak. I wondered if name dropping Twilight would be enough or if I should go directly to her. On the other hoof, withholding details hoping they would give in to my demands might hurt Ivory’s case now.
“It is alright, Dusky.” Ivory’s words pulled me out of my thoughts. She gave me a smile—a full smile—even if it was tinged by the barest hints of uncertainty. “You’ve already given me the push I needed. These are steps that I need to take. I’ll be fine.”
“Besides, she won’t be entirely alone,” Feather interjected. “My presence has also been requested.”
I found myself smiling back. Ivory was right. Even though her immense power wouldn’t help her here, I needed to remember that my friends were all fully capable—to trust that even if I couldn’t be there to help, they could handle themselves. “Okay, Ivory. I’ll be waiting in Ponyville. And when they decide that they can’t possible imprison such a good person, we’re going to find the best tea shop in Canterlot and get you the finest celebratory tea you’ve ever had.”
The shortest of giggles—a tiny burst of melodic mirth—escaped Ivory’s lips. “It’s a deal.”
The train raced down the track, wheels carrying just the barest of an unsettling rattling sound, no doubt from the strain of the armoured cars. Still, it beat traversing the open road in my condition, and the Guard being so kind as to provide a ride meant we had a car all to ourselves. Not only that, but protection was just one car away in either direction. Hopefully, we wouldn’t need it, what with our little civil war being over, the fall of the last of Summer Leaf’s posse and the Guard promising a fair settlement to Ivory’s situation.
Despite that, there was a part of me that couldn’t completely relax. Perhaps not enough time had passed since our battle amongst that ashen inferno. Or maybe it was the faint medley of iron and steel that seemed to be permanently infused within the firm grey cushions of the car. There was also the lack of weight around my neck, the empty sheathe like a missing friend. I supposed some of that stemmed from the guilt of letting a gift break—even though my parents would tell me that my still being alive means the weapon had served its purpose. Thus, the broken nub that attached to my wing sat in the bottom of my flight satchel. Next chance I had to go to Canterlot, I was going to see a smith about getting the blade replaced. If that wasn’t possible, I’d commission a new one, with the remains of my old one somehow integrated.
But for now, I was going back to Ponyville. It had been far too long since I could simply be home. I just wanted to go to the Seapony and spend a casual, stress-free night with my friends. With luck, nothing else would catch fire before the end of the week. In the very least, I wouldn’t have to worry about a surprise call from the Guard. My statement had gone over quick and easy, with any possible future testimony months off, courtesy of bureaucratic process.
I leaned back, the cushions squeaking a little as my eyes drifted away from the rolling plains. Beside me, Night smiled, that dopey grin lighting up his face. I met his smile with my own. It was good to see that his own testimony, recalling the horrors that had gone on in that courtyard, couldn’t keep his spirits down. That did remind me that I didn’t really know how he ended up there in the first place.
Sneaking a quick nuzzle, I asked, “Now that things are settling down, you want to let me know what happened on your side? Something about putting a hoof in Prideful Policy’s face?”
Night blushed a little, his face contorting a little as he struggled with how proud he should feel about that. “W-well, we found him watching the battle like it was some kind of sick show, and, um, then he tried to run away, so I had to stop him.”
Merri’s head popped up over the seat in front of us. Resting both forehooves along the top of the cushion, she grinned. “Prideful’s bodyguard fought us with bitter resolve, locking us in battle long enough for their master to make his escape. As he stood upon that hill, laughing and twirling his mustache, he flipped his black cape, cackling, ‘Muhahah! You will never catch me!’”
She brought her hoof across. “That’s when Night swooped down, standing tall and heroic! ‘Halt, fiend! In the name of justice, you shall turn yourself in and trouble this town no longer!’ With a gasp, Prideful tried to flee, but Night brought him low with the Hooves of Justice!”
As Merri brought both her hooves down upon the seat, Star appeared across the aisle, leaning over her own seat. “Sister, you were not even there for the decisive moment.”
“Shhhh! Neither were you!” Merri raised a hoof to her lips. “For all we know, that’s how it could have gone down! Besides, you know it’s how the bards would sing it~.”
“Or we could ask the stallion who was right there.” Star rolled her eyes. “And last I checked, you are not a bard.”
I laughed. “Perhaps it’s time for a career change?”
Icicle popped up beside Merri, giving her a look not unlike the ones Night reserved for me. “You know I’d be at every show.”
“Aw, shucks.” Merri raised her forehooves, pushing her cheeks up in mock embarrassment. “You know I couldn’t just leave poor Sis’ to do all the fighting by herself. Maybe I could take it up on the side, do it parttime, like those bards who embed in a platoon. Crossbow in one hoof, saxophone in the other.”
“Saxophone?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah! For smooth jazz~!” Merri grinned ear to ear.
“Um, how will you sing?” Night asked.
“Plus,” I added, “correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think smooth jazz is typical bardic fare.”
“Details, details.” Merri wiggled her hoof.
Leaning against Night, I smiled again. “How did it really happen?”
“Well, um, he did leave his guards behind and try to run away from us. But he didn’t stop to gloat and let me use any, um,” Night turned a little red and his voice momentarily dropped, “Hooves of Justice on him. It was all a bit of a blur, but I remember flying after him and tackling him, then I hit him and he went down. There wasn’t anything glorious about it.”
Seeing Night grimace a little, I decided that perhaps this is as far as this should go. Pressing into his mane, I said, “Regardless, thanks, Night. Things might have gone differently if we hadn’t had him at a disadvantage. Thankfully, we can rest easy now.”
---
The day was late into dusk by the time we arrived in Ponyville, the orange-purple ambience highlighting the lonely platform. I was more than happy to have friends there to walk it with me, though our departure wasn’t without good-byes.
Golden Banner was kind enough to let Mint, Feather and Blaze escort Ivory out onto the platform for one last hug before we parted ways. Although, I had my suspicions that this was more of a favour to Feather than anything else.
As Ivory and I pulled away, she smiled at me. “Dusky, I… thank you. Again.”
I smiled. “Any time. Don’t forget, I’ll be waiting.”
“Yes, of course. I will look forward to tea time.” Ivory cracked a smile or her own and it was there, her coat dyed in the colours of the setting sun, that I realized she no longer seemed naked without her cloak. She didn’t need it anymore.
“I’ll be up to check in every so often,” I said, glancing at Mint, Blaze and Feather in turn. “If any of you are free when I’m in Canterlot, I’d be happy to meet up.”
“Hey, don’t think you’ll be the one putting in all the effort,” Blaze said. “Ponies think I have a knack for getting into trouble, but by Celestia, Dusky, I think you’re the one who needs ponies watching her back.”
I laughed. “Fair point. I assume that means you’ll be coming down every so often?”
“You’d better believe it.” Blaze puffed up proudly.
“I’m sure I’ll see you often, too.” Mint turned a sisterly smile upon both Night and I. “You’ll need help planning a certain festivity soon enough.”
Night nodded vigorously, just a touch of red showing through. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“And when tea happens, I’ll be there.” Feather glanced at Ivory. “That is, if you’ll have me.”
“We do have a lot of catching up to do.” Ivory smiled.
“Ahem.” The rapping of a hoof against the train car pulled all our attention to Golden Banner. I thought I caught just the edge of a smirk disappearing. “Time’s up.”
I watched them board again, waiting until the door had shut, and the train began to move again. I started to turn, but it wasn’t until the final car was out of sight that I completed it.
Until next time.
“Soooo, party at the Seapony~?” Merri asked, motioning to us from the staircase.
“Sister, we just finished a long journey.” Star stared.
“All the more reason to kick back and relax~.” Merri motioned again.
“I’d be up for it,” I replied. “After all this, having an ordinary evening sipping on a cider with my friends is all I could ask for. That said, we should give everyone some time to unpack and freshen up.”
“Oh, right, yeah.” Merri nodded. “Split up and meet there in an hour?”
“Sounds good to me.” I turned to Star. “That acceptable?”
Star shrugged. “If you are all willing to put up with Merriweather’s antics, I shall get by.”
And thus we departed, though not before Night offered to walk me home. I’d simply smiled and told him the danger was already past.
I was about halfway home, walking along Ponyville’s main street, when Terra’s voice rang out behind me, “Dusky Down!”
Turning just in time to see several pedestrians scattering before the approaching green blur of a unicorn, I instinctively braced. She stopped just shy of ramming into me, staring intently.
“Oh, hi, Terra,” I said.
“Don’t you ‘oh, hi, Terra’ me!” Her glare intensified. “I heard about what happened out there. And you just decided to run off into some war zone without telling your friends!”
“Sorry, Terra.” I gave her an apologetic look. “I wanted to make sure everyone was informed, but it was an emergency. You know I wouldn’t just ditch my friends.”
“Of course I know!” Terra frowned. “But it’s always an emergency. Somepony always needs saving from something or other. Every time you disappear, we never know if you’re going to come back.”
“I know… and I’m sorry. I know nothing is ever guaranteed. But you can trust me to try my damndest to come back. I’d never willingly leave you all behind. Just like I can count on you to stay alive over here, even should the whole of the Everfree stand up and rebel. Right?”
Terra sighed. “Fine. You’re right. But you owe me.”
“Owe you?” I raised an eyebrow.
“For being the way more frequent cause of worry. Do you know what it’s like being the one ponies keep asking, ‘Hey, where’s Dusky?’ and it’s not like I can tell them, ‘She’s run off to do dangerous things again.’ But I know it and feel it. Every time.” With that, Terra lunged, wrapping me in a hug.
Returning the hug, I let out a sigh. “Sorry, Terra. I know that must be hard. What do I owe you, then?”
“I don’t know… Make me your Mare of Honour.”
“Er, done.”
“And… you’re coming to the Seapony with me. Right now.”
“Right now?” I poked at Terra’s withers. “Terra, in case you didn’t notice, I smell like an armoury right now. I need a shower.”
Terra took a deep whiff and stepped back, wrinkling her muzzle. “Ugh, you’re right. Fine, we’re going to your place first.”
“‘We’re?’ Terra, I know how to shower on my own.” I stuck out my tongue.
“Yeah, but somepony’s gotta be there to make sure you don’t get whisked off by some other emergency.” Terra tried to give me a flat look, but only half a second went by before she cracked a smile.
“Okay, yeah, you got me.” I giggled. “You’d better come along to protect me from myself.”
I’d always known that castles weren’t what they presented themselves to be, and yet the revelation still hit me hard. Beneath the pretty gold, purple and white, my friend had been imprisoned. Even though the situation had been quite favourable to Ivory, waiting under the castle’s shadow felt irreconcilably tense. The watched gate between the guard house and the road probably didn’t help.
Thankfully, Night was by my side, the two of us spreading the odd ominousness thin. Still, I tried to push my unease aside—not because I didn’t want him to see me this way, but because there was no logical reason to be so on edge. I knew for a fact that Ivory was being released today. I guess at this point, there was no escaping my instincts: I would always be wary of complications.
I glanced over at Night. He smiled and I met it with my own.
Sudden movement pulled my eyes up the path, to the guard house. It was a squat, two-story structure fitted up against the towering castle, and following the same purple-gold-white colour scheme. Most people probably didn’t even notice it was there. But today, a very special white blot had emerged from the door. I could hardly contain myself, like some schoolyard filly who’d been separated from her friend over the summer break.
When Ivory noticed me, her gait became a trot, almost a canter. Left in the dust was Feather, who I could only imagine staring dumbfoundedly for the two seconds it took her to follow suit.
Ivory’s short, raven hair flopped up and down against her glistening white coat. She didn’t have her cloak, instead covering her flank with a purple, silver-trimmed mantle. There was a vague translucence to the airy fabric as it flapped alongside her mane.
The two guards at the gate turned, watching her carefully. While they didn’t unlock the gate, neither seemed particularly surprised. Their attention turned to Feather, who, now that she was closer, I noticed wasn’t wearing any of her Guard armour. Still, it didn’t take more than a couple words before both sisters were on the other side of the gate.
Ivory hurried forward, raising one forehoof, then hesitating. However, when I raised mine, she beat me to being the first to pull me into a hug. “Dusky! I am so glad to see you.”
“Likewise, Ivory. I hope they treated you well?” Half of me thought the question should be rhetorical, yet, the other wasn’t so sure.
As Ivory pulled away, she gave a short nod. “They didn’t keep me in the prison, if that’s what you were worried about. They took me to another room, in one of the far wings. While they made it clear that I wasn’t allowed to leave, it was almost like one of the rooms back home. It made me feel a little nostalgic.”
I glanced at Feather Reed, who smiled. “They knew she was no evil sorceress. The only reason we even needed to go there now was to settle the final paperwork.”
Nodding, I gave Ivory a onceover, noting that the trimming of her new mantle had tiny moons etched into it. “Nice outfit. I’m guessing that’s not standard issue.”
“No.” Ivory’s eye fell behind her, an odd mix of both satisfaction and uncertainty written on her face. “Even after they cleared my name, I… I wasn’t so sure about letting the whole world see my cutie mark. I don’t think they’re ready.”
“Sadly, it’s true.” Feather gave Ivory an apologetic look. “It is difficult to convince ponies to break their prejudices. Better to be cautious.”
“Which is why I wanted my cloak.” Ivory stared at the mantle again.
Feather sighed. “Sorry, Ivory, but there’s no way the smell of… you know… is coming out of that old thing. Besides, what better way to mark a new beginning than with new clothes?”
“I think it looks good,” Night said.
“Me too.” I nodded. “As far as modern fashion goes, it’s very you.”
Ivory stopped a moment. I could practically see the thought bubble around her head. “I guess I’m just not used to anything so fancy anymore. Thank you, Feather.”
A smile crept up Feather’s face. “It’s the least I could do after so many missed birthdays.”
Ivory met her smile, then turned back to me. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“Stardust Tea Temple,” I replied. “Just three blocks down the road.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that one. Isn’t it a bit gimmicky?” Feather asked.
I nodded. “Most of the high-end places are. Stardust does private rooms, though, so we have a bit more control over our environment.”
“They have high quality tea, too. For all the gimmicks, they actually care about the flavour of the tea.” Night added. I was quite grateful he’d helped me vet the options—and that he’d approved of this one in particular.
In truth, I’d also chosen the closer of the tea houses because I wasn’t sure how Ivory would react to the city. The short trek to Stardust provided me little in the way of an answer, as while I found Ivory nervously glancing about, that same gaze also lingered over every new thing.
Soon enough, the elongated shingle roof came into view, casting its gentle shade across the ample wooden porch. Leading up to said porch was a long walkway, its sturdy railings a lazy guide up the gradual slope. The “temple” itself, was more or less one long perimeter of solid, withers-high wooden wall, topped by panels of heavy paper windows.
Upon entry, my nostrils were greeted by the scent of candle wax and incense. In fact, the majority of the light came from a colourful crowd of candles. As the chimes above the door dingled, a robed earth pony stepped forward.
“Welcome to Stardust, where you can set your mind at ease,” she said with a smooth, silky tone. “How can I help you today?”
“Reservation for Dusky Down.”
The mare nodded, tucking a few menus into the side of her robe. “Right this way.”
Thinking back, I’d been in an awfully lot of dimly lit places over the last year, but always in extenuating circumstances. I supposed it was to Stardust’s credit that I could actually feel at ease here, even discounting the life-threatening situations of Ostfriesen and Pasture.
We were guided down one long corridor before being seated in an isolated room with a square, red table. Just enough sunlight filtered through the windows to highlight the table in a way that almost gave it the appearance of an altar. Aside from that, I was reasonably sure the pillows ringing the table were even plusher than the ones in my bed.
The door slid shut, leaving us with our complimentary chamomile and menus.
“So, now that you’re free, what are your plans?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Ivory stared into her tea. “It’s strange. Now that Prideful is in jail and I no longer need to deal with his machinations, I just… don’t know. I know that’s supposed to be a good thing, but I guess it had been going on for so long that I never thought about what I’d do if this ever happened.”
“That is an odd thought, isn’t it?” I pondered. “He was the one pushing for change and yet, his inability to let go of one grudge left him as the pain point, the thing keeping things in stasis. But, now you and the townsfolk are free to choose your own fate.”
Ivory stared off into the distance. “I… suppose I’d like to rebuild my home. The manor has been in a sad state for far too long.”
“Is that wise?” Feather asked. “The Princesses may have cleared your name, but it could be some time before Pasture accepts that.”
“I know, and yet, it’s my home, Feather.” Ivory sighed. “I just can’t abandon it. I can’t.”
Placing a hoof on Ivory’s shoulder, I nodded. “I think I understand. No matter where I go or what I do, I always return to Ponyville. It’s my home and being there just feels right. I don’t know much about carpentry, but you can count on me to help you however I can.”
“We could make sure the skies stay clear while everypony works,” Night said.
“Good idea.” I grinned. “I could talk to Terra and see if Stalwart’s crew wants to take the job.”
“Not to be a wet blanket,” Feather said, “but I still think we should wait. I’ll definitely help when the time comes, it’s just we should make sure everything is settled with the villagers. It wouldn’t do to start work and then get into conflict with them.”
“Oh. Yes, that does make sense.” Ivory’s eye fell into her tea again.
“I have an idea: why don’t you come see Mom and Dad?” Feather said.
Ivory suddenly stiffened. “Mom and Dad… I, Feather, I don’t know. Would they even want to see me?”
“Of course! I know it looks like they might not, but trust me, they miss you.” Feather leaned forward, hope so plainly written on her face that for a second, I swore the two of them were decades younger.
“They left me alone in Pasture,” Ivory said flatly.
“I know. I can’t speak for them, but I can tell you what I know.” Feather frowned. “I was too young to understand the situation at the time, but I could tell they were terrified beyond imagining. There was lots of angry shouting outside. The help was running all over the place. Everypony inside was calling, ‘Where’s Ivory?! Where’s Ivory?!’ They didn’t want to leave. I could feel it. But they had to. There was no other choice. I guess that doesn’t really excuse anything, but if you can find it in your heart to forgive them, I can tell you right now that they’d be happy to see you.”
Night nodded. “I also can’t speak for them, but I know after being seperated from my parents for a long time…they missed me. I had made a lot of mistakes, but so had my parents. We all regretted where it had brought us... Might be worth the chance, just to hear them out, at least.”
Ivory continued to stare intently at her tea. This went on long enough that when the server returned, she offered to give us some extra time.
At last, Ivory sighed. “Alright, Feather. I… I’ll try it. On the condition that you’re there too.”
“Of course!” Feather nodded vigourously. “Just say when and I’ll make the time.”
“And… if I’m to say good-bye to Pasture for a while, I need to go back one last time.” Ivory’s gaze turned to the window.
Feather’s brow creased. “Well, if you lay low, I guess it would be okay. You’re not worried about mercenaries occupying the town again, are you? Because I can guarantee that won’t be a problem.”
“No, I just have a few things I’d like to clean up. Maybe a few I’d like to bring on our trip.” Ivory prodded at her cup.
“Speaking of mercenaries,” I said, “are they keeping true to their promise?”
“As far as I’ve heard, they haven’t even approached the border towns for resupply. In all honesty, when they said that work would be more plentiful in other countries, they were right. I suspect we won’t see them again, though if we do, we should know long before they can start causing trouble again. Why do you ask?” Feather tilted her head.
“It’s... complicated,” I said, pursing my lip. “I guess the long and short of it is that I’ve done things in the past that have made me long-standing enemies. It’s a relief to know that it’s very unlikely in this case.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Night giving me a sad look. I met him with a reassuring smile.
Feather nodded. “Understandable. I cannot guarantee that you will be safe outside of Equestria, but rest assured, within the borders, should the Crimson Hooves return, the Guard will take care of it.”
“Thanks, Feather.” I took a long sip, though the tea had unfortunately become rather lukewarm by this point. “Now that that’s settled, I have one more thing I’d like to ask Ivory.”
Ivory peered over at me. “Well, then, out with it.”
“Well, as you know, Night and I are engaged and hoping to tie the knot within the next year. Plans are still in the works, but—and no pressure or anything—I was wondering what you might think of being a bridesmaid.”
Silence lingered as Ivory stiffened again, though her posture felt a little less awkward and more surprised. It was also entirely possible that my own nerves were biasing my observations. “Ivory? No pressure, remember. I don’t need an answer now.”
Slowly, then more confidently, Ivory waved a hoof. “No, no, it’s fine, Dusky. Just… another one of those questions I’d never thought I’d ever have to answer. I think… I think I’d be honoured.”
There have been many times in my life I ended up alone in a strange room, but never had I been so happy. Besides, this was more of a tent in the middle of a field. For all Terra’s talk about losing that urge to travel, she still had that knack for outdoor stuff.
I’d waffled a bit on whether or not the field on the outskirts of Ponyville would be an appropriate venue. The general lack of facilities was a major concern, even though we were barely outside of the city limits. But Terra insisted that if it held that much sentimental value to me, then the guests could stand to shoulder a little inconvenience. The only other real competitor was Myrtail, where Night’s and my first steps together had officially begun. However, my memories of there were a bit more mixed and ultimately, something that felt like home was more important.
Beyond that, the decisions came easily, my notes from Terra’s wedding serving as a good general springboard for all the major touchpoints. I think Terra was a little disappointed she couldn’t say, “I told you so”, but at the same time, making enough adjustments to ensure half the wedding wouldn’t blow away when the wind picked up was challenging enough that had I been more indecisive, she probably would have lost her mind.
The tent was rather sizable, the long, rectangular perimeter easily able to fit someone’s living room inside. The fact that about two-thirds of the space was completely empty made me half-suspect that Terra panicked and overbought. The other half, however, looked up to the plastic sky light. The sun fell perfectly in the middle of the tent, fully highlighting the fold-out tables and standing mirror that we’d been using to get dressed up. It was nice to have that level of lighting without needing to open up the side windows.
I couldn’t help but chuckle a little at myself and the notion, though: the greater majority of our population typically wandered around pretty much butt naked. What was there really to hide?
Sauntering up to the mirror, I gave myself one last onceover. Traditional wasn’t exactly my thing, so I’d forgone the whole white wedding dress for something a little more modern. It was slimmer, easier to move around in, yet still flattering. I’d still indulged in a longer skirt, though hardly anything close to the traditional train: risking tripping over myself without needing someone to carry part of my dress did not sound like fun. Still, it had a number of folds that played into the silvery blue colour, giving it a sort of wavy nature that made the whole thing look bigger than it was. There was one more indulgence, of course: about my neck was a cross between a collar and a scarf, the thick, blue-green base growing lighter as it worked its way toward the ends, until it was the same silvery blue as the rest of the dress.
Terra had raised a little bit of an eyebrow at that request, but when I’d grinned and said, “Hey, my day, my comfort,” she'd just laughed and wrote it down. Not that either of us thought it much of a problem—Carousel Boutique thrives on that sort of customization.
In all honesty, the oddest feeling thing was my mane. Even though I’d found a style that essentially boiled down to a fancier ponytail, the weight of the braid that crowned my head threw me off kilter. It was just enough shy of uncomfortable that I kept questioning whether it was or not. Granted, at that point there was no use thinking about it, since I couldn’t exactly turn back.
A rustling at the side of the tent pulled my eyes away from the mirror. It seemed too soon for Terra to be coming to get me, but perhaps I’d simply let my mind wander for too long.
In trotted my mother. Her red-and-white headband was absent, but a flowing burgundy dress complemented her side-braided lavender mane. A moderately wide sash kept the dress from getting too wild, giving the whole thing a robe-like quality. Even in formal wear, she managed to look like a martial arts instructor.
A bit of a lopsided grin spread across her face as she simply eyed me up and down.
When it went on a little long, I shifted hoof to hoof. “Uh, Mom? Are you alright? This isn’t about to turn into an impromptu test, is it?”
She let out a long laugh. “Of course not. Can’t a mother admire how beautiful her daughter looks on her wedding day?”
“Er, yeah, but…” I shook my head. “You always told me to be prepared.”
“On a normal day, yes. Not that I think you should let your guard down entirely, but,” my mother frowned, “I told you, Nobes and I have security handled. Your job is to have fun. Ours it to make sure it stays that way.”
“I know. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate that, but didn’t I also tell you I’d feel guilty if you had to spend all your time away from the wedding?” While I was ninety-percent sure I had, the hustle and bustle of the past few months had things blending together so much that there was a part of me that wondered if I’d simply dreamed some of the things I’d said or done.
“Yes, and your father and I both discussed that with Nobes. Nobes brought along quite a few of his buddies so that we’ll have plenty of opportunities to be proud of you two.” Her mouth turned up into a grin again. “You must have made a hell of an impression, too. Some of those Solar Company Guards even volunteered. This is the wrong party for anyone to crash, I’ll tell you that.”
I couldn’t help but giggle a little. “I suspect that was more Feather’s doing than anything.”
My mother shrugged. “I didn’t say who you made the impression on. Regardless, it’s notable.”
“Right.” I smirked. “Thanks, Mom.”
She nodded. “You know, you’ve grown into a beautiful, capable young mare. I’d hoped you wouldn’t inherit my ability to find trouble, but since I failed you there, I’m just glad you grew into someone who could handle it all.”
“Comes with the territory of inheriting your sense of justice, I guess,” I smiled broadly. “Besides, it’s not like you stuck your hooves in your ears and ignored the possibility. The very core of what has carried me this far is what you and Dad taught me.”
“Good, so you understand I wasn’t being strict just for kicks.”
“I think I always did. I just couldn’t have dreamed of how far things would escalate.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “I assumed you were training me in case of some jerk in a bar, not a full-on civil war.”
“You were right.” My mother’s expression was some odd mix between amused and proud. “Actually, maybe a little more than the first, since you do live next door to the Everfree. But the second? You figured that out on your own.”
“Thanks, Mom. I still used your training as a foundation, though.”
“I guess I shouldn’t keep you much longer or your Mare of Honour might have a meltdown. By the by, did you know she was so tightly wound? I just about had to throw her down to see my own daughter.”
I blinked. “Mom, you didn’t…”
“Of course not.” She smirked at me. “She’s just surprisingly obstinate for someone who otherwise shares a lot of background with you.”
“It’s a tough job.” I shrugged. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I got a little tunnel visioned when I did that for her.”
As if on cue, Terra’s head poked through the tent flap. “By Celestia, are you two still talking? Come on! The ceremony is starting!”
Then she was gone again, my mother giving me an expression that said, “See?” as she motioned to where Terra had been.
My only response was uncontrollable giggling.
---
Even though I’d already seen the decorations over a dozen times, I still thought Terra had outdone herself. Pink silken chair slips with sizable bows on the back hid the fold-out nature of their hosts. And somehow she’d gotten her hooves on one of those heavy, red velvet rollout carpets—the expensive kind they use at events in Canterlot.
The beginning of the aisle was flanked by two tall, white vases. The one on the left had my gear-and-pencil cutie mark painted on it, while the right had Night’s snowflake-emblazoned star. Both vases were overflowing with vibrant purple orchids, courtesy of Aster.
As I began to walk the aisle, my parents in tow, the procession all turned to watch. The feeling was a little bizarre. I wasn’t exactly basking in the attention, but I also wasn’t about to shy away. I guess in that way, it just felt natural, which general wisdom regarding weddings would have me believe was very unnatural.
There were too many faces to process and the crowd began to blend together, though I could at least pick out the blue of Blizzard’s and Dash’s coats. Night’s family was up near the front and I thought I caught Feather’s golden coat just before that on my side.
And there, waiting under an arch made of silky, blue-white curtains, was Night and our friends. On my side stood Terra, Twilight, Ivory and Blaze, all wearing airy teal dresses that were in the same approximate spectrum as my pseudo-scarf. While Terra and Twilight seemed at home enough in their dresses, Ivory stood as though she’d been waiting ages to wear one of these. In a sense, it was probably true. Meanwhile, Blaze’s stance was a little… edgy, so to speak. To be fair, we’d known from the start that it really wasn’t her thing, but she’d insisted she’d never turn down being a bridesmaid over something so trivial.
On Night’s side, we had Mahogany, Icicle, Star and Merri. While Merri preferred the same teal dress as the other mares, Star declared she would adhere to the tradition of the stallion’s side and wear the same white tux as Mahogany and Icicle. Funnily enough, Star seemed to be more at ease in the tux than the stallions.
My parents broke away as I stepped up onto the broad wooden platform that served as our dais. Night and I exchanged smiles and I took my place beside him. I let my gaze linger a bit. I saw everything we’d been through together, the unbreakable support we’d given each other to carry us through the darkest of times.
Pinkie Pie slid up to us, an uncharacteristically grey dress on. When I’d asked her about it at rehearsal, she’d simply replied that this was her official officiant dress and she takes the title very seriously. With book in hoof, she cleared her throat.
At the moment, I probably should have been nervous, but in truth, it was more like a sweet serenity had washed over me. If mobsters, ghosts and two wars couldn’t stop this, then I had a feeling we’d be fine.
