> One in a Trillion: Lemons
>  by UnkleBumbleHeck
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> Introduction
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Every mare, stallion and foal has a purpose, some reason they were put on this earth. Unicorns, earth ponies, and pegasi all find their calling in some way or another.

When you're young, if'n you subscribe to the idea of cutiemarks being as vital as oxygen, you're gonna be doin' just about everything within your little pony power t' find that cutiemark. Well, I have a sort of belief on that, and I ain't no scientist, but who's to say you gotta do what your "special talent" is?

I'm sorry, I got all caught up in makin' a point'a things and didn't even bother introducing myself. The name's Barron Skyes, hailin' from glorious Cloudsdale, and my special talent is lemons.

Well, okay no it ain't lemons. My cutiemark is a lemon, but my supposed talent is baking. Specifically, it's baking lemon pies, but I ain't never met a single pony that likes lemon pies, so lotta good that does me. See, when I was real little, my mother, blessed saint that she was, would just about spend every conscious hour in our kitchen, fixin' all sorts of things. Well one day, when I was about five or six years old, I decided I wanted to see what all she found so interestin' in cookin'. Now, granted my mother did own a bakery on down the road a ways, so lookin' back I can see why she spent s'much time a'cookin', but when I was little I didn't quite manage to put two n' two together t' make five. Or six, can't quite remember.

Anyhorse, I was figurin' I could just hop up there and watch her at it. Oh I had it all planned out like some sort of heist or somthin'. I'd climb up onto the kitchen counter, notepad and pen in hoof and just start a' takin' notes.

Well that went about nowhere in ten seconds flat. I trotted up behind me mom that mornin' while she was a'cookin', and she heard every little hoofstep. Well, what ended up happening was, she figure'd she'd show me what all she was doin', but only if I helped. Yeah, sounds real fun for a little buck like I'd been. (That's sarcasm, err'pony.) so, she sat me on one of our dinin' chairs so I could see what all she was a'fixin', and she wanted me to decide what to make.

First thing I saw was a pie tin, an' little buck that I'd been, I decided it'd make an excellent hat, so I asked her for it. She put it on my head and I wore it like an officer's wheel cap.

Now, before y'all go laughin' at me, I do indeed still have that pie tin, but that's besides the point.

Well, because I took a likin' to that pie tin, dear ol' mother decided we'd make a pie, and she wanted me t' decide what went in it. See, that's what she was doin' there in our home kitchen, expirementin' t' see what tasted good to add to her bakery.

Well, I looked round the kitchen, perched up on that chair as I was, and I spotted a lemon. Now, at the time, I genuinely didn't actually know what a lemon was, but I just knew that's what I wanted in that pie.

Dearest, lovin' mother, she didn't protest nor nothin', just went right over, grabbed a couple of lemons, and went to makin' 'em into the pie. I sat and watched, tryin' my darnedest t' take a mental note 'a every part of makin' the pie. Just a while later she put it in the oven and set it a'bakin'.

Once that was all done, an' the pie was done baking, she had me taste test it. To this day, I remember every ingredient that went into that pie, and the moment I took a bite of it, on popped that there lemon on me butt.

Well, a special talent of makin' lemon pies, as you might fig're, ain't gonna take me far if I can't diversify it a bit. So I ended up goin' to cookin' classes once I was old enough, 'n ain't been a one of 'em did me any good. See, fact of the matter is, I just don't enjoy makin' pies. I'm good at bakin', sure. But way I figure it, why spend my whole life doin' somethin' if I'm only good at it? I believe you ought to spend your life doin' somethin' that makes you happy, otherwise you'll just end up with regrets, and regrets ain't healthy.

So, that's how I ended up with a lemon for a cutiemark, but my cutiemark doesn't make me who I am. My name is Barron Skyes, and I'm a self-employed courier pony with a dark, curly mane and 'n achin' to see the world. And I gots a lemon on my butt and an old pie tin in my bags.

> Chapter 1: Dragons and socks
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"Here's the situation," she said to me in a voice somewhere between cautious panic and seething anger. My sister, Crimson Skyes, always had a way with showin' a whole complex of emotions. All at once.

See, if you'd ever meet her in person, you'd say she was about as shy as a butterfly, but if you ever were to encounter her while she was doin' somethin' business related, you'd say she's about 2 hooves away from bein' the devil incarnate. That mare has gumption.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Whoops. "Uh, why don't you start over? I was uh, havin' a mental dialogue on how pretty ya are today."

"Arron," she nickered. "We both know that's a buncha horseapples. Ugh, fine. So, the situation is, there was going to be 15 party platters for the gala and ceremony, but..." She clopped her hoof against her face. I swear, she does that more than anypony rightly should. "How does a shopowner manage to leave such an important delivery out in the open like that! Apparently, 4 of those platters were taken by, well, somepony."

"Or someponies." I put in a couple'a bits. Speakin'a bits, "Well hay, girl, why not just buy four more?"

"They were special deliveries, Arron! It's not like I can just summon 4 more out of thin air by flashin' some money! Be a better world if I could."

Yeah, shoulda thought that one through. "Hang on, sis. The platters came from Ponyville right? Sugarcube Corner? That new place down near town square?"

"Yes, and this order nearly put the poor couple running the place out of supplies." Crimson was now restin' her head on her hoof, face down, on said hoof.

"Well piss-apple-pies. T'ain't there nowhere else we can get them platters from?" Honestly, it wasn't really none of my concern, not officially at least, but it was still important. What's a gala without them uh... Hours devours... Thingies. Fancy ne'er was my forte.

"It's one of their opening specialties, and their only real source of resources is that apple farm what's been there for decades near the town. But there's no way we could make the trip there, pick up the right stuff, get it to the Cakes, and have them platters back here to Canterlot in time. The gala's just two days away! An' on top of all that, will you guess what happened to Vera Charm?" Oh boy, Vera. Up'n comin' musical star, supposedly uses 4 instruments at once with her magic. Witch, I says.

"No, sis, I really gots no idea," I wasn't too interested in what mess that loony got into.

"Well, she had made an order for some new instruments about six months ago, specifically for this event, and they were supposed to arrive last week." If Crimson wasn't already leanin' on her hoof, she'd of facehoofed again. "Well, a package arrived, all right. Four, in fact, just as shoulda been. But can you guess what was inside?"

"Snake tamin' chimps with pink polka-dots 'n laser eyes?" I figured I'd at least try to make a little light of the situation, 'fore Crimson burst a blood vessel.

May have had the opposite of the intended effect, 'cus she managed to facehoof again, usin' her other hoof.

"No, it wasn't a bunch of chimps. You're not helping with the jokes, by the way!" I had to disagree, as seein' her bury her face in her hooves was pretty funny. "This is important! If Vera isn't able to play at the gala, oh I don't even want to know what the media backlash will be like! I might get exiled from Canterlot!"

Whoa nelly. "Now you hang on right there, sis. First off, sit up straight, you look downright silly like that. You ain't gonna take no medium-"

"Media." She corrected me, although it sounded to me like we said the same things.

"Backlash," I continued. "Y'all ain't even responsible for puttin' this together. It's the Equestrian Military throwin' this whole thing for the new initiates in the Royal Guard, right? They'll take any medium backlash fer any buck-ups. Now, what the hay was in the boxes?"

Getting back on track from our temporarily derailed conversation, Crimson just steamed right on with it. "Well, she ended up with four large shipments of socks. White as an analogy I ain't botherin' to make up right now." She almost facehoofed again, but caught the look I was givin' her and stopped. I really need to break her from that habit. "You won't even guess what Aussi had me do the other day! A cupcake! Just one. For some reason he thought having me run and get a cupcake for his marefriend would resolve the little spat they were havin'."

"Keep on topic, sis. You're 'bout as wild as a buffalo right now, chill it down a bit."

She sighed and nodded, visibly forcin' herself to relax. "Okay," she started after a pause. "Well, I'm already organizing to find Vera's instruments. But when I saw her last, she was about a hop skip and a slump away from needin' a shrink. This whole thing is about got her all wigged out. And, I need to find whoever's responsible for takin' those platters. It doesn't do any good to let thievery like that go un-dealt with."

An idea struck me just then, and it slapped a great big grin on my face. "How 'bout this, sis. I figure your little exposition on how tough it'll be to get s'more of them platters was a might exaggerated. I bet I could get you another 4 of them platters by the gala with plenty o' time t' spare. 8 of 'em, even!"

This time, Crimson did laugh, even though I wasn't makin' a joke. "There's no way, Arron! That trip's nigh impossible anyhow, with the railways out like they been. You plannin' on flying those platters all the way from Ponyville to Canterlot?"

"Hey. I'm the fastest courier pony t' come outta Cloudsdale, and ain't no question 'bout it. I bet if I traveled o'ernight, I could get them platters by tomorrow." This was startin' to sound like a challenge, to me.

"Now you hold on right there, cowpony." She stood her front hooves up on the table, wings all flared up like she was 'bout t' pounce me. I just kept'a grinnin'. "I don't want you flying between Ponyville and Canterlot anyhow. That whole stretch is full up with the sort of critters that jus' get mad if you try'n fight 'em. And! And I heard there was a dragon attack on one of the settlements out there just last week! You ain't going no-wheres near that mess."

"Says you." Best part about bein' siblings, is you can get a rile outta each other real easy. Which works in my favor. "Says I, yer older brother, might I remind you," I intoned. "Says I, this has to get done. And like I said, fastest courier pony outta Cloudsdale. Don't matter if there's a dragon, an ursa major, or a dern invasion from them changey whatsits, I'll out-fly 'em all, and Barron Skyes don't ne'er quit on a job."

"Hey," Crimson said hushedly, getting back in her seat and lookin' round real suspectin'-like. Weird mare, that one. "Don't talk about that. The Changelings are a serious threat. If they were to invade..."

"Yeah yeah, I was jus' makin' a point. Look, I can do this for you. If not as a courier, then as your brother. Besides, ain't cousin Rolo gettin' sworn in at this thing?"

"Yeah, he is actually." She sighed, apparently resignin' to the idea at last. "Okay, if you think you can make it. But even still, be darn careful, Arron! You might be fast, but dragons is big! Real big, and I don't figure you'd make the trip if'n you was barbecued on the way. And I still gotta take care of this problem with Vera..." She threw one of her hooves up to give me a look at it. "Just look at these socks, though! They look pretty nice, don't you think?"

Somehow I didn't find socks to be much appealin' in terms of aerodynamics. They came all the way up her legs, and were about as white as a freshly made cloud.

"And," she went on, "You'll have to have the platters made, and you'll probably have to pay for them yourself, as the gala bill only covered for those 15. You'll be real pressed for time, Arron."

"Pressed fer time?" I chuckled. "Might as well be my middle name. Y'all can count on me to get the job done, and done right and in time. That's the Barron Skyes way."

"Well, all-righty then," she finally agreed! "I don't know if I'll be able to pay you immediately-"

"Hold it!" I stopped her. "Ain't no way I'm acceptin' payment from me sister. Consider this an act o' pride. Ain't no way I'm gonna let you tell me I can't out-fly a dragon without provin' you wrong."

She fretted over that, although I could see 'er fightin' off a grin. "Don't go looking to race the darn thing!"

A race with a dragon, huh? That could be fun.
> Chapter 2: Foreign Relations
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Considerin' the amount of time left before the gala - two days, t' be exact - I decided I had to suit up and leave right away. Crimson an' I parted ways just after 9 AM, lookin' to get as much time in our favor as we could.

Canterlot had its own courier office, but bein' self employed, obviously I couldn't use none of their equipment. B'sides, they was owned by the government, and not to speak poorly of the Princess or nothin', but a government job is the quickest way to an unhappy retirement and a grave. 'Least, in my opinion. Anyhorse, since I wasn't commissioned by the Canterlot Express Office I had to procure myself a suitable means of transportin' these platters. Now, fer what it's worth, a plain ol' fruit cart woulda done well enough, but I was in the market for a proper courier's totin' cart.

Cousin of mine an' brother of Rolo Lucatiel (whom was gettin' initiated into the Royal Guard at the ceremony followin' the gala), Yuri Lucatiel, was a retired mercenary, and ran his own little carpenter's shop just outside of Canterlot city. 

Cousin Yuri lived in the lower residential district, but his shop was actually all the way out in the industrial park. Quite a trek to make every mornin' if you ask me, considerin' he's a unicorn. I dunno, maybe he does that teleportin' magic to get between them places. Really it ain't too big a concern anyhow, cus' I gots wings.

Me and Crimson had ate breakfast at one of the many cafes in Canterlot, pickin' to go to her apparent favorite, someplace called the Red Shogun. Real exotic, oriental food from someplace I ain't ne'er been. I payed fer both our meals, much against Crimson's protest, and once we'd parted ways I took off and headed towards home to grab my delivery gear. I fly jus' about everywhere I go, if'n theys enough room fer me to fly in. Saves on time tremendously.

My place, 'least there in Canterlot, was in the lower residential district, near the train station. I also had a little place up in Cloudsdale, but it don't see much use on account of delivery business just bein' more active down on solid ground. So I made my way over the town square and east, towards the train station, watchin' ponies down below goin' about their mornin's. The lower residential district wasn't as distinct as its upper counterpart, considerin' most of the buildings looked about the same as the ones in the commercial district. My house was distinct enough for me though, mostly because it was mine and I knew it well. Squat little 2 story yellow townhouse on East 23rd street, far end from town square. On the front I had put up a sign fer my delivery business, consistin' of my name, a carvin' of some wings, and the words "Fastest courier out of Cloudsdale!" on real pretty cherry wood, stained an' all fancified up by Yuri, who I had commissioned when I started business to make that as well as several of my other delivery-related items.

I landed along E-23rd and trotted up to my front door, unlocked it and hurried on inside. The lower floor I had made mostly to look like a proper delivery office, clearin' out the front room to be my reception area. The kitchen was to the left through a door and what had been the dinin' room, but I had closed the kitchen off, puttin' in a full wall in place of the open bar that had separated the dinin' room an' it, and put a door in. The dinin' room I had made into my office proper, and the livin' room to the right of the foyer was made into more or less a storage room. That's where I went, huntin' fer my saddlebags an' my flight coat. I found my coat layin' on the old coffee table, along with my goggles. I took 'em both, throwin' on my coat an' puttin' my goggles on, lettin' 'em rest on my forehead. Saddlebags took a bit of huntin' though. They weren't in their usual spot, which set off a couple of alarms in my head. I kept some important things in them bags!

Eventually my worries were alieved, 'cause I found the bags upstairs, which was my actual living space. I made sure to check the contents to make sure everythin' was in there. Notepad, pens, lighter, knife, and my rope, all in place as they shoulda been. I couldn't rightly recall what caused me to put my bags upstairs, but it didn't much matter, since everything was still there. Just a change in the usual routine, nothin' to panic 'bout just yet.

I guess I oughtta explain what makes me so worried about my equipment like that. See, first an' foremost, that knife was a gift from my father. It's a 6 inch Bowie knife, with teeth marks in it from when he used to use it. An' considerin' it's from family, it's worth more t' me than jus' about anything else I own. I was raised in what most ponies these days would consider the old ways. Respect your elders, protect the young, do your work right and don't be a lazy-good-fer-nothin' hippie. Well, I personally ain't got nothin' against hippies, or any social denotationizin' fer that matter, aside from a couple of the... Weirder things. Fer example, our time system is apparently based upon some banishment of a second princess. To the moon! Yeah, right. The day a horse gets on the moon is the day dragons talk.

Anyhorse, speakin' of dragons, I'd say my knife ain't gonna mean much to a giant fire breathin' lizard. Not to speak poorly of me dad's knife, of course! But, really... This had me a'thinkin'. If'n I was to get into an encounter with that dragon, has anypony ever actually slain a dragon b'fore? And, giant fire breathin' lizard that it is, it's a livin' being. Dragons is smart, they'd have to be to be that big and still catch prey. That knife o' mine wasn't never used fer nothin' other than carvin' an cuttin' wood. Dagnabbit, it jus' don't sit right with me t' use me dad's knife like that. Jus' the thought of havin' to harm anything livin' like that irks me somethin' awful.

An' while we're on the topic of hurtin' livin' things, let's talk about them changie-things. Changerings. Changey-wings? Whatever. The reason the railways was out, see, was apparently due to an actual attack on Equestria by them things. Folks'll tell ya different stories dependin' on who you ask, but the fact of the matter is, we've been attacked. Now, it has been officially stated by Princess Celestia herself that all'a them soldier bucks on that train made it home safely (probably 'cause they was all pegasi) but still. There hasn't been no violence ner even a single word o' war fer longer than anypony can rightly tell you. But blowin' up a railway, an' tryin' to blow up a train full'a Equestria's finest... Them's warrin' actions. T'ain't right.

I gotta stop lettin' myself think on stuff like that, gonna give myself a complex or somthin'.

...

Well, I was on my way to Yuri's place, just'a coastin' along on my wings, when I caught the buck on the road goin' back towards the city proper. I flew on down to catch him up, doin' a tabletop flip just for the hay of it.

(A tabletop flip is a half backflip and a half roll at the same time, gettin' you turned round and goin' the other way.)

"Well howdy there, cousin!" I greeted Yuri as I came to land beside him. "You was jus' the pony I was lookin' fer."

Yuri stopped walkin' and looked me up an' down. "Hello, Barron. Why are you looking for me, do you have a delivery for me?" His family, the Lucatiels, as you could probably guess fer their names, came from a pretty foreign place, Saddle Arabia if I ain't mistaken. Yuri had lived in Saddle Arabia fer most of his life, an' that's where he'd been a mercenary, b'fore they all moved to Equestria. Now that was about 20 years ago, and Yuri was 30 then, so how his brother is 18 is beyond me. T'ain't none of my concern anyhow.

"Not quite, nope. I do have a request for you, though." I reached into my bags an' pulled out my notepad, an' hoofed it over to him. "I need to know if you can get me somethin' like that in say, ASAP?" I had, on the first page, drawn a sketch of the kind of cart I was lookin' fer. "I got an urgent delivery to make, and I'm afraid my old apple cart ain't gonna cut it."

Well, he looked it over for a moment, holdin' the notepad in that magic of his, makin' it glow the same greenish color that was around his horn. I'd put plenty of details and dimensions on there for him, knowin' a bit about carpentry myself, and he seemed to appreciate it, cus' he nodded his head as he floated the notepad back over to me. "You are in need of a delivery wagon? I will do this for you. With your summary payment."

He definitely had a foreign way with words, that's fer sure. "Well, I can pay just about as much as you ask fer, if'n you ain't plannin' on chargin' me an unfair price."

Yuri shook his head slightly, sayin', "I am of honor, Mister Barron. I only demand payment for services rendered." Yup, definitely foreign.

"Well all right then! So you'll do it for me?" I asked him, alightin' on my wings in my excitement.

"Yes. One condition." His horn lit up again, and outta thin air popped a folded piece of paper which he floated over to me where I was slowly returnin' back to the ground. "Deliver this to Steig. When you return I shall have this wagon made for you. With your payment."

"Sounds like a deal then, cousin!" I took the paper and put it in one of the side pockets in my bag so I'd remember where it was.

"Très bon." And with that, his horn lit up yet again and he popped away. So he does teleport back an' forth!

This was goin' to take no time at all to make a delivery like this. A little piece of paper like that? Shoot, I'd bet he'd be nowhere near finished puttin' that cart together by the time I got back to him.

Alightin' again, I took off towards Canterlot Square, where Steig's smithy was.

...

It was already astonishin'ly busy out in town square, all sorts'a ponies goin' round doin' stars-knows-what. I landed on the sidewalk in front of Steig's smithy, cleverly labeled "The Steigery" by the big metal sign that hung above his door. I had seen the smoke comin' from his chimneys as I flew into the city, an' I could already smell the coals burnin'. A darn good smell.

Steppin' into the shop was like steppin' into a furnace. He had 3 separate forges, and all 3 of 'em were on full choke. He also had music playin' from somewhere, sounded like something you'd catch some angsty teenage colt listenin' to.

This fella, Steig, was from Stalliongrad, an earth pony with a wickedly red mohawk and a coat of fur turned black from tendin' the forges so much. You could just make out his actual coat color in a couple'a places, a real soft pink.

Steig was runnin' full gallop across the main room of his smithy between the 3 forges, movin' with machine-like precision, yankin' out pieces of the hot metal with his teeth, clampin' em down on the anvil an' hammerin' on 'em with his steel-clad hooves at a rate of so many hoof-beats a second it sounded like one of those big ol' gatlin' guns. Then he'd stuff it back into the furnace an' run off to another t' do the same thing.

"Privyet, courier." He said in between furnaces. The fella spoke Equestrian jus' fine, but he liked to mix in his own language sometimes too, which I didn't mind. His voice always amazed me by how deep it was. Fella sounded like an earthquake.

"Howdy, partner," I hollered over the ti-ti-ti-ti-ting of his steel hooves hammerin' on red hot metal. "Got a delivery fer ya!"

Steig took a moment to finish beatin' on what was lookin' to be turnin' into a fryin' pan, b'fore droppin' it into a trough of water beside the anvil and runnin' to dip the other whatsits into the water as well. He then came over to me and, pullin' off one of the big steel horseshoes, took out the set of steel teeth guards in his mouth and put 'em in the pocket of his blacksmith's apron, so he could speak properly. This buck had this stuff down to a science. "A delivery? What delivery is this? Let's see it." You know, I think I'm startin' to see a trend with foreign ponies and weird dialects.

I pulled the folded paper out from the pocket where I'd put it and hoofed it over to him. "From Yuri. Caught him on his way up here and ended up deliverin' this for him so he could get back to work."

"Da, da. Yuri, a good guy," his voice rumbled as he unfolded the paper with his un-clad hoof. Once unfolded a check fell out, which he caught and moved to set down on the counter in the front of the shop. Fella took about a whole 2 seconds to look over the order form and the check b'fore trottin' off to one of the back rooms.

While he was in there, the hard rock song ended and some completely contrasting sort of jazzy stuff came on. Sounded really good actually. Saxophone seemed t' be the main instrument, but I could make out cymbals and drums, a couple other brass instruments and even a piano. Then, out of nowhere there was the sound of a DJ scratchin' on a vinyl and some vocals came in, along with a couple more saxophones an' some dirty soundin' bass rips.

'Every - everything we do'

'Oh - oh it's all for you'

'Go ahead and run'

'Go ahead and try to hide'

New age music was such a rollercoaster.

Steig came walkin' back into the main room carryin' a big double-bladed ax with his teeth. He had to tilt his head sideways to fit the ax through the doorway from the backroom. I s'pose this fella is the dentist's favorite.

He set the big ax down on the counter, then pulled open one of the drawers on his side of the counter and took out a length of cloth. It looked pretty thick, which I guess would make sense considerin' he started wrappin' the ax in it. He must get a dozen orders like this every day, the way he wrapped it up so fast. A true master of his art.

After he finished wrapping and tying up the ax he got out a sheet of paper from another of the droors.

"Need a pen?" I offered as I grabbed one out of my bags.

"Ah. spacibo, friend. Thank you." He took my pen and started writin' somethin' on the paper. "This is for officer who stops you," he explained. I looked over, and sure enough it looked like the paper was pre-printed for use as a delivery form, which would keep me out of any trouble with the guards, considerin' an ax ain't exactly somethin' they want civilians to be carryin' around openly.

"Well, all righty then!" I whinnied as I turned to leave, ax in tow on my back. I stopped though, another idea comin' to mind. "Hey, uh, wild question here, but say somepony had to defend themselves. Particularly against a... Well, a dragon. What kinda weapon would y'all recommend against one of them?"

He already had his gear back on and was about t' start hammerin' away again. As I spoke to him about the whole dragon thing he gave me this sorta unbothered look, like I wasn't even talkin' 'bout dragons.

"In dealing with dragons," Steig began to explain, about as casually as his mohawk wearin' figure could allow. "One would hope to be much further away than the length of a blade. One should also consider legal repercussions of murdering a dragon."

I was about to retort about how I had said 'defend' but he waved it off. "I would say, if you run from a dragon, you would want to breath more fire than he can, yes?" He said and laughed, to which I laughed as well. "You need a carry permit for it, but I find 12 gauge slugs to be best for fending off armored opponents. Perhaps not killing, but hurting enough to scare off."

The idea of a pony scarin' off a dragon was about as unparsable as a mare in the moon. Then again, 12 gauge slugs ain't no joke. "Carry permit huh? 'Fraid I ain't got one of them, and ain't enough time to get one. Well, thanks anyways." And at that, I left the Steigery and took off for Yuri's carpentry shop.

This whole dragon thing really had me worked up. Was I really willin' to tangle with a dragon?

...

Now, 'fore y'all go makin' any undue assumptions 'bout yours truly, I ain't got no interest in me fellow stallion. I am definitely battin' fer the other team here.

That said, when I walked into Yuri's shop, a smell hit me that jus' about put me on the floor. Some real nice dressed fella was talkin' to Yuri, and he had some real mean smellin' perfume on! I'd bet you it cost more than gold and was probably made of the stuff too, along with unicorn piss and a whale's tears. Or some other obscene bunch of nastiness. Still smelled real nice, though.

Puttin' that outta my head 'fore I started havin' some real tough questions to answer fer myself, I stepped on in and went to unstrappin' the ax from my back. I had indeed been stopped by the guards on 3 separate occasions, but each time I showed 'em that delivery form from Steig and the let me go on my way without a problem. Lotta folks round here have pretty high regards for that fella.

"Ah, Mister Barron." Yuri addressed me. He and I had choice words when we first met and he called me 'Mister Skyes'. That was my father's title, and I ain't about to take it from him. "This is the package?"

The fancified lookin' fella in the nice shirt an' vest was a unicorn, with a white coat and a darkly colored swept back mane. He looked over at the ax as it got wrapped in Yuri's greenish magic. "My my, Yuri." The fancy fella said. He definitely sounded like he was from Canterlot. Soft spoken, kinda feminine almost. "Is this the type of equipment you use in your work?"

Yuri went to removing the cloth wrap from the ax, b'fore inspectin' it, with this sort of bored look on his face. "What, the ax or the courier?"

They both chuckled at that, though I didn't quite get the humor. Maybe I'm the foreign one?

"Sigmund, this is Barron. My cousin." Yuri continued inspecting the ax a bit longer before popping it out of existence, probably storing it someplace ain't nopony ever seen but him. "Barron, this is my friend. Sigmund is from Saddle Arabia, like me. His family works in logging."

Apparently not from Canterlot at all then. "Well howdy there, Sigmund!" I exclaimed, liftin' my hoof to shake his. "Name's Barron Skyes, and I'm the fastest courier outta Cloudsdale!"

He eyed me over for just a moment, then went ahead and shook my hoof. "A pleasure. You certainly do seem quite a fast delivery pony according to Yuri here. I'll have to keep you in mind, I might have a job for you someday."

"As long as it pays good and it don't kill me, you can bet I'll get the job done!" I exclaimed.

"Very well, then." Sigmund turned back to Yuri. "Thank you, Yuri. I'm sure this arrangement of ours will prove beneficial to both of us." And with that the fine gentlestallion trotted out the door. He had to of been royalty, or somethin'. Somehow I can't see loggin' gettin' you lookin' that fancy.

"Your wagon is complete." Yuri said in his usual dronin' voice. I don't think he ever left all the seriousness of his old merc days behind. It wasn't too surprizing that he'd already had it done by the time I got done with his delivery. That fella had such precise control with his magic he could move each part of whatever he was buildin' at the same time, along with his tools. Apparently he learned to do that by weildin' multiple weapons at once, back when he was younger. Imagine, havin' 6 or 7 different guns all pointed at you, with only one guy behind the triggers. Makes you wonder what the ax was for.

"I'm mighty grateful of you, cousin. This'll help a whole lot deliverin' them platters all the way from Ponyville."

"Of course," he said in an almost happier tone. He then started towards a door on the right which lead to his workshop proper. I'd been in there a couple of times, and it was always different each time, new projects always coverin' a lot of the floor space and a bunch of tools set all around. "Let me show you the wagon."

We went into his workshop, and sure enough it was in yet another arrangement. The wagon was the only thing on the main work floor this time, though. And boy was it a wagon! It was more like a small cart shaped like a wagon, in fact that's exactly what it was. It was smaller than my old apple cart, the dimensions 24 inches wide by 36 inches long, with a nice bowed cover over the top of it and 18 inch high sides. It was painted a nice navy blue with a set of gorgeous little wheels with a soft oilin' to make the natural beauty of the teak wood stand out. The cloth cover was a gentle off white, comin' up about another 16 inches above the sides of the wagon itself. On the sides of the wagon Yuri had burned in my usual logo, same as the sign at my front door. That fella sure was a master.

"Well cousin, how much you askin' fer?" I queried after inspecting the cart. That was one thing you could count on about Yuri, he'd always have a price for anything he done for ya.

Yuri pondered that for a moment. "Per services rendered, resources used, work hours... 65 bits."

No way. "65 bits? Did you forget to put in the nails or somethin'? There's no way you can honestly charge that cheap!"

Yuri chuckled a bit. "You did perform that delivery, consider that as part of the payment."

That ax must have been somethin' pretty important to him, 'cus usually havin' somethin' like that built would cost at least 3 times as much! "Well hay, cuz, that's mighty generous of you." I went ahead and wrote him a check for 65 bits. Imagine if I tried to pay in actual coin! Thank Celestia for the banking system.

...

That new cart was fantastic! I'd bet Yuri ain't never built anything so good. Then again, I know he has. All his work is always so dern perfect, it's a wonder he ended up a mercenary at all. I'd asked him what got him into that business, but all he said was it wasn't a choice. Huh, I guess everypony's gotta have their secrets.

It was about 10:30 AM when I left Canterlot, headed south for Ponyville. I'd have to go through the plains between here and there, but as long as that dragon that was apparently terrorizin' folks out there didn't decide it wanted courier for dinner, I would probably be able to make it to Ponyville by dusk. Now that might sound good, 'cus that's real fast for such a long distance, but it's still not quick enough.

I had no idea how I was goin' to convince the Apples to provide more apples for the platters in time to get them made and delivered back to Canterlot. If'n they do let me use some of their apples tonight, I'd still have to impose so on them folks at Sugarcube Corner, and out in a rural town like Ponyville, shops close an awful lot earlier than they do in cities like Canterlot. Like, a couple hours b'fore dusk. So, if I ain't able to get them platters done by the first night, I'll have to get 'em done the next day and do a rush delivery overnight. That said, there's really no way fer me to not get the platters delivered, as long as the Apple family is willin' to provide s'more apples, and as long as the couple at Sugarcube Corner is willin' to make the platters. Well hay, if they were to give me the recipe, I could probably make the dern things myself!

But right now I had to focus on gettin' there first. Finally out of the city limits, I was able to fly as fast as I wanted. I slid my goggles down over my eyes, and, new totin' cart in tow, sent my wings into full throttle. Right away I sped off like a bullet. By Celestia it's good to be a pegasus!

There's really not much different between the different races, aside from the obvious physical and magical differences. Except for one thing, the earth ponies. Them folk are the most tenacious, hard workin' folk you'll ever meet. If ever I had to be anything other than a pegasus, that's what I'd be. Somethin' about their tradition, the work based lifestyle. Ponyville was founded by earth ponies, and in fact by the Apple family themselves. I'd say maybe 80% of the population in that town is all earth ponies. There's somethin' about that.

I still like bein' a pegasus the most, though.
> Chapter 3: Revelations of War
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

If it weren't fer the summer I'd probably be out of business. It'd be a might harder to get work if there wasn't a little warmth in the world. Thank Celestia and her mighty sun fer the warm seasons.

That said, it was early spring, and it was cold down in the valley. And rainin' to boot. I could already feel the cold tryin' to nip at the tips of my wings. I tucked my legs in a little closer as I flew, regretting I didn't dress a little bit thicker. I ain't never handled cold well, always preferred hot drinks an' food to cold, always kept at least 3 blankets on my bed. Oh, beds... That reminded me, somehow. If it was rainin', that might put a damper on the moods o' everypony down in Ponyville, who probably got it just as bad as out Canterlot side of the valley. I might have t' be real charismatic to convince 'em to help me. Good thing I got the looks of my father then. I'd say it'd of been good to have his wits too, but he was a politician, so that probably wouldn't of played in my favor, really.

I guess that's why I ain't too fond of government jobs.

...

The vastness of the flat planescape below Canterlot Mountain was, well, vast. Really, the whole lot of it was excellent land, perfect for farms, for agriculture centers, alla that. But there weren't many places of genuine civilization out here. At least, not pony civilization.

Out here, the land was diamond dog land. They'd been out here fer as long as the land itself, and there ain't no good in tryin' to take land that ain't yours, so ponies just don't normally settle out here. Seriously, settlin' in somewheres where there's already a native civilization is like tryin' to fill an already full cup. Alla that is gotta go somewheres.

Diamond dogs were, fer a lack of better understanding, strange. Well, not strange as in weirdo-ew-keep-away-from-me strange, but strange as in outside of the norm, strangers, something unknown. As far as anypony does know, their entire livelihood has always been exclusive, keepin' to themselves an' not really ever botherin' with much of anything out on the surface. I suppose they gots themselves a whole civilization of their own down under the Earth, where it's full of plenty o' gems fer them to... Do whatever it is they do.

I had a ways to go, so I had packed a bit of food for the trip. Not much, as I could just buy food once I got to Ponyville. Some crackers, a bit of dried fruit. It'd be only another, maybe, 7 hours before I actually reached Ponyville, provided I didn't get attacked by- No, I'd already decided against that. I figure there's got to be a reason a dragon would attack a town. Dragons ain't dumb, they'd have to have some good reason to go at a town of ponies. Especially considerin' the tenacious nature of us ponies. Still kinda worries me though. I guess I'd find out eventually, huh?

...

Headed south, I caught sight of the first bit of genuine pony civilization out here. A patch of farmland, a plantation, looked like.

It's good to take breaks when making long flights like this, so I figured I'd settle down there for a bit. Maybe the rain'll pass while I'm there! So I flew on round to where I could see the front of the property, where a road winded along a hedgerow until it split, one carryin' on and the other leadin' to the main building of the plantation. It looked like a beautiful piece of land, and it was! Whoever put this out here musta been one hay of a savvy farm pony. It'd have to be a good few ponies, considerin' the size of the property. It had 3 buildings, one big white one and 2 smaller ones on either side, with a nice flower garden out front and a pretty big plot of farmland out back. I sure hoped they didn't mind me stoppin' up here fer a while!

I landed up just before the front garden, and unhitched myself from the cart. It was holdin' up amazingly, and felt a whole lot better than that ol' apple cart I had, which was at least twice as heavy. I left the cart under a tree off the side of the road, and trotted up to knock on the door. It looked like they were still makin' some improvements on the house, 'cause a scaffolding was up along the right side of it, leadin' up to the 3rd floor. I couldn't get a good look at what the work was that was bein' done to the house from my angle, though.

I stepped up to the door, fine oak with a faintly red polish, givin' it a real pretty contrast to the white of the rest of the building. It had one of them knockers on it, a brass head of what looked like some sort of a boar with a ring hangin' from its open maw. I went ahead and swung that 3 times, which I generally considered the proper amount of times to knock on a door if you ain't familiar with the folks. I stood there for a moment longer, probably wasn't nopony just stood there waitin' to open the door whenever somepony knocked. That'd be real weird.

Now I don't make a habit of countin' seconds, but in this particular case I did. It took about 20 seconds fer somepony to get to the door an' open it fer me. A little earth pony foal, light yellow coat and an orange mane. She looked up at me fer just a moment, then turned round and hollered great big into the house. "Daddy, there's some strange pony at the door!"

I tried my darnedest to stifle a laugh.

A sort of young sounding voice carried back through the house from somewheres deeper inside. "Well let them in then! And don't say things like that about ponies, it's rude!"

I didn't manage to stifle the laugh that time.

"My daddy said to let you in," the little foal said, lookin' about straight up at me.

"Well thank ya kindly, miss!" I gave 'er a little nod and stepped on in, makin' sure to wipe my hooves off on the doormat outside before I did, as it just ain't civil to track dirt an' whatnot into another pony's home. Any home, really. Any establishment at all. Shucks, I wouldn't even track mud into the cave of a manticore.

"Who are you mister?" The little foal asked me. Oh boy, did I love when folks asked me that.

"Why, I'm Barron Skyes, the fastest courier pony outta Cloudsdale!" I whinnied. "And who are you, young mare?"

"Oh, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. You're not allowed to know who I am."

Again. Failed with the whole not-laughing thing.

It wasn't long until the fella the youngin' had called daddy came to greet me. He had on a plain white button up, his fur was orange and his mane was a light shade of pink. His cutiemark was hid behind a pair of black slacks.

"Name's Provolone Slim, friend! What brings you all the way out here? There hasn't been more nonsense with that dragon, has there?" Somehow, it sounded like he was defending the dragon in that statement, but I shrugged it off, as it in fact didn't have anything to do with me.

"No, sir! Name's Barron Skyes." I offered my hoof for a hoofshake, which he took. It's just polite. "I'm on my way to make a delivery, but the weather's kind of puttin' a damper on that. I was hopin' you wouldn't mind me stoppin' up here to let the rain pass?" It always pleased me to have a good, neighborly conversation between strangers. "If'n you've got someplace I can stow my cart, I'd be a might appreciative, friend."

Provolone nodded knowingly. Fella probably understood pretty well the importance of keepin' yer equipment out of the weather. "Well, as long as you don't mind telling me a bit about yourself while you stay, I don't have any objections." He bopped his filly's rump lightly with his hoof, saying, "Go on, Butters, go show the stallion where he can store his cart."

The little filly, Butters apparently, bound out the door without a word. I chuckled as I followed behind, and quickly got hitched back into my cart. I pulled it along, followin' where Butters lead, around the left side of the house, where she came to a gated fence between the two buildings. She got up on her hind hooves to reach up and slap the latch on the gate, then swung it open, leadin' to the rear yard of the property. To the far right was a large stable, with a small fenced area behind it where a herd of cattle grazed, apparently indifferent about the rain.

Butters lead me to the left, however, where a shed stood on the other side of the left building. It was a decently sized shed, and it looked almost new, or thoroughly well kept. She did the same as she'd done to the gate, openin' up the big door of the shed, and let me pull my cart into there, where there was a whole bunch of farm equipment, like plows, trailers, rakes and all other sort of tools. A loud clap of thunder rang out as I came unhitched from my cart, and that little filly jumped up great big and rushed inside as the rain seemed to double its efforts to drown the world.

Poor thing, I remember how storms had scared me when I was her age. "You think thunderstorms are scary on the ground, imagine one right beneath you!" I teased her.

"I-I'm not scared..." the filly whimpered.

I just laughed and nodded my head. "I know you're not. I never was either," I said with a wink. I think that got me on her good side, 'cause she giggled a bit. Oh, the wonders of youth.

After I got my cart settled into the shed, we headed back to the plantation house, again making sure to wipe my hooves before entering. Butters led me through the foyer into what looked like the largest living space I'd ever seen. One big room, seemingly taking up its space in all three stories, with a big chandelier made from antlers hangin' from the high up ceiling, a big fireplace on the far wall, and an assortment of really nice looking furniture in ebony wood and white leather. This Provolone Slim fella had it nice. Like I said, Earth ponies is tenacious.

Provolone Slim stepped into the room from what looked to be a kitchen, off to the right of the big living room. He had a towel thrown over his withers, and was wearing an apron. Cooking, I assumed.

"You ate anything lately, Barron Skyes?" He asked me, confirmin' my suspicions of cooking. He nodded towards the kitchen, saying, "I'm fixing up a real nice meal. Stew, bread, potatoes. The fixings."

Shoot yeah, this fella knew what was good! "Why you've got to be somethin' real generous, there, mister Slim. I appreciate it. I left right after breakfast from Canterlot, so..." I paused for a moment, tryin' to figure how long it'd been since I'd left. "Say, what time is it, exactly?"

Provolone checked a pocket watch he had in his shirt pocket. "Quarter to 11. I figure you delivery ponies have to keep a pretty tight schedule, huh?"

Quarter to 11? Yikes, that might throw a wrench in the monkey. "Well usually, yeah. The job I'm on right now isn't too tight though, and I ain't gonna make no headway in the weather like this anyhow." I'd end up havin' to pull an all-nighter probably, but that shouldn't hurt anything.

"Well, if you say so. Go ahead and show him to the dining room, Butters. I'll be just a few minutes longer." Provolone went back into the kitchen, and butters began trottin' off through a doorway set into the wall to the right of the kitchen entrance, under a set of stairs. Inside was indeed the dining room.

Rich ebony wood seating, ebony dining table, cast iron wall sconces which lit up as Butters flicked the light switch next to the door. Beneath the table and seating was a brilliant maroon rug, with a rich tapestry of what looked like some kind of a battle between knight ponies. Seriously, this fella must have been loaded. Or something. On the walls - which were painted a similar color to the maroon of the rug - were various paintings of even more knight-like scenes; a knight at a river with his maiden, a knight posing with his sword, a group of similarly dressed knights all around a table. The table in that specific painting seemed awful familiar.

"Ya'll have a real nice place here, miss Butters!" I had to say, it was really nice. A proper house. A proper home. "Did your father build all of this?" I asked her as I stepped around the room, looking at the various paintings.

"Him and his friends did, back before I was around." She replied, taking a seat in a tall bar stool next to a fancy looking seat which I assumed was her father's. "He would be able to tell you more, I don't know too much about it."

I stored that away as a topic to discuss later. I had a fair interest in architecture, and this place was really piquing my interest.

...

After a few minutes Provolone Slim brought in the food. A basket of rolls, a big pot of stew, a bowl of mashed potatoes, and a pitcher of iced tea. This fella must've been from southern Equestria.

He gave us each our own serving on the plates that were already set at the table. I did notice there were 8 places set. It was probably just for the sake of decoration, but it still seemed a little odd. Oh well, ain't no good to judge another.

He brought in bowls for the stew as well, which he then filled as he placed them at our places at the table. It was a seasoned vegetable and herb stew, with a nice dark broth that was steaming hot. Smelled delicious!

Finally, Provolone took his seat next to his daughter, whom I had chosen to sit across from. "Well tell me a bit about yourself, Barron. What kind of delivery are you making that brings you all the way out here from Canterlot?" Provolone asked me as he began eating his meal, dipping a roll into his bowl of stew.

I tasted the taters first, and found them exactly to my liking. The right amount of salt and just enough pepper to have a little bite to 'em. "Well," I began, "There's a gala comin' up in a couple of days, and some of the orders of food got... Misplaced," I decided that wording would be best. "I'm makin' an emergency run to Ponyville to get another order."

Provolone Slim nodded. "Well I don't see any badges on you. Are you a private contractor?"

"Sure am. Took to the courier business as soon as I had enough bits to put myself out there." The stew was excellent, a perfect mix of garlic, onion, bay leaf, greens and fronds. "My family has been in politics for a pretty long while, and I decided to break the chain, I suppose."

Provolone seemed to agree to that, chuckling a bit. "I don't blame you. There's not much of a dirtier business than the business of politics. But I have to ask, what does a lemon have to do with delivering?"

Ahh, here we go. "Well, you see, my mother was actually a baker. She taught me how to bake all sorts of things, and I took to lemon pies. Real odd, I know, but somehow that ended up bein' my cutiemark." I snickered. "I honestly had no interest in makin' a future out of lemon pies, so I took to helpin' with the logistics side of mother's business, and eventually I ended up doin' delivery services for her. That's how I got into bein' a courier."

"So I assume your father had it in politics?" Provolone asked.

I nodded. "Sure did. And his father before him, and his father before him, and so on. Ran for gov'ner of Cloudsdale 3 times, and didn't win once."

"Well there ain't much politics for around here. Down here in the plains, you only gotta look after yourself and your own." Provolone said, looking to his daughter. "We got a saying around here. Order's for the weak." He laughed.

I laughed too, however not quite so much. "Well, y'all just about know everything about me now. How about you, though? I gotta say this is an awfully big house for just the two of you."

Butters looked up to her father, whom looked to her, then to the various paintings on the walls. "It was a lot more, once. I didn't come here alone," he began. "I used to be a different pony, Barron. Didn't have no family to look after, no land to keep. These paintings you see all around you? They're of the order I was a part of, long ago. We liked to fancy ourselves as knights, but really we were just a band of mercenaries. We'd done a bunch of bounty hunting down in Saddle Arabia a good while back, before one of us defected and moved away. We ended up coming to Equestria looking for more work, but things aren't quite the same up here as they are down in Saddle Arabia. We built this house as our sort of base of operations, hoping to maybe make it a little more official, but eventually one by one everypony else ended up getting... Well, they aren't around anymore."

Well, shucks. Wait, hold on a second! "Saddle Arabia? Did that fellow that first defected go by the name of Yuri?"

Provolone eyed me a bit suspiciously. "He may have, why?"

All right, maybe 'defecting' is a little worse than it sounded. "Well, my cousin, Yuri Lucatiel, used to do some merc work down there. Couldn't be that he was one of your pals, was he?"

"Luca? He's still around?" Provolone sounded genuinely surprised at that. "Unicorn, can wield a whole bunch of weapons at once, real patient fellow with no humor?"

"Yeppers, that sounds like him. By gum, I do believe you an' I ain't so separated after all!" Who'd of thought I'd meet one of my cousin's old warrin' buddies out here!

"Well that's... I really don't know what to think. He... We'd all thought he'd gone and got himself killed. I can't believe he's still around!" His tone shifted to something actually happy soundin' then, a decent contrast to the topic of his previous statement. "This has to be some meeting of fate between you and I, Barron Skyes. So what's prim and proper Luca doing these days?"

I laughed at that. I musta been in a giddy mood today, laughin' as much as I was. "He's been doin' a bunch of carpentry work up in Canterlot. Has his own shop and everything. He's the one that made my cart, in fact. Just today."

For once, Butters piped up, saying, "A whole cart just today? How?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it past him," Provolone replied to his daughter. "That Luca sure was a wizard with his magic... Us Earth ponies never really did have much of an interest in that sort of thing. The magic, I mean."

"Yah, I'd imagine a lot of carpentry went into this here house, so one of you had to of been somethin' good with carvin' wood and alla that," I speculated.

"Well, Luca had already left the gang when we moved up here." Provolone began to explain. "It'd been about 2 years since he left when we decided to come up to Equestria. None of us knew he had come up here too. To start a carpentry business, no less!"

I nodded to that. It made sense, now. Yuri havin' come up here with his family, for his then baby brother. I can comprehend how tough it is t' leave a group of friends like that. But when it involves family, you'll find you might do a lot of things you might not like in order to protect the ones you love. And now his brother is joinin' the Equestrian Royal Guard. Time sure does carry ponies far.

...

As the conversation wound down, so did the meal, and the weather. I, as a good guest, helped clean up the dishes and what not. Politeness is a bit of a policy for me. It's gotta be, considerin' I'm a self employed courier!

I looked out a window, to see the first patches of blue sky through the breaking cloud cover. It looked to still be raining in some places off in the distance, but it had stopped around where I was, so I took that as a good sign. Pegasi tended to let weather take a more wild approach out here, which is how you get patchy rains like what was goin' on now.

Provolone Slim trotted up to stand beside me. "The news you've given me today is truly life changing, courier. I appreciate that. I consider you a good friend, Barron Skyes. If you ever need someplace to stop up again whenever you're making another impossible emergency delivery, feel free to come on by. You'll always be welcome here."

"Well, thank you kindly, Mister Slim." I extended a hoof for a hoofshake.

He grinned as he took my hoof. The sort of grin someone gets when remembering old times, nostalgia I think they call it. "Actually, it's Sir Slim. But you can just call me Slim." He turned to look out the window again, lookin' up at the slowly partin' clouds. "We actually did get knighted, most of us anyways. Ponies aren't uncommon in Saddle Arabia, and the natives down there are pretty similar to us really, but the cultural differences are still pretty strong. If Yuri had been knighted, maybe he would have stayed with us. It's not for me to say, as I don't know what brought him to leave."

There certainly seemed to be a few cultural differences. I'd never heard of anypony gettin' knighted in modern day Equestria. "Well, considerin' how you an' him go back a ways, I figure I'm safe tellin' you." He turned to look at me as I said that, an eyebrow slightly raised. "Yuri brought his whole family up here. His mother and father, and in fact his newborn brother. The new born was the biggest cause for him defectin' from y'all, as he figured a life of bounty huntin' and monster slayin' wasn't goin' to be too easy on the poor lad."

Provolone contemplated that for a while, before eyeing me suspiciously for the second time today. "Yuri couldn't of had a brother. Not a blood brother, at least. This explains a lot, Barron. More than you know." He moved to sit down in one of the fine chairs of the large living room, to which I followed suit, taking my place on a couch across from him. "The job we did before Yuri defected was the first job we got as genuine Saddle Arabian Knights. It was to save a certain high value individual from a certain party of... Let's say, interlopers. The job payed massively, and the money ended up being used to get us here to Equestria, and a lot of it went into this very house. That job, though... It was strange. The HVI was some weird lookin' newborn foal, apparently stolen from its mother before she ever got to see it. The foal... Well, he was a pony, a unicorn in fact. But, he had some differences to the rest of us. He was real dark colored, and well, the phrase Braun used was 'penta-corn.' The foal had 5 horns." Slim paused for a moment, his eyes lookin' distant as he reminisced about the old days. "Honestly, as a Knight, I ain't allowed to tell you much. It's got a lot to do with old religion though. Dead and dying gods, they say, are more vengeful than any force of nature... Anyway, we did the job, but for some reason Luca was up at arms about the whole thing, and he ended up not accepting his part of the payment. That added up to about 5,000 bits, mind you. Soon after, we got word the foal had been given up, and that same day Luca defected."

I sat in silence for a bit, letting alla that sink in. It made much more sense now. 18 year old brother of a 50 year old, no physical similarities. I sighed as the last puzzle piece fell into place. "Well, Slim. This sure does explain a lot, if what you're tellin' me is true - and I'm inclined to believe you're an honest pony. Rolo, Yuri's brother, has antlers, that look like 4 additional horns on the sides of his head. And his coat is real dark. So yeah, I figure what you're figurin' is pretty close to reality. Heh, you know what Rolo is doin' now?" Slim raised his head a little, prompting me to provide him with the answer. "The gala I'm gettin' these platters for, it's the preceedings for an initiation ceremony for the Royal Guard. Fella is gettin' sworn in this saturday. Him and all 5 of his horns," I made light, which I often found to be a good way to keep conversations sedated. You don't have a politician for a father and not get a few lessons in bein' charismatic.

Slim got real quiet then, nodding his head slightly. Eventually he spoke after a sigh. "Ah well, it's all behind me anyhow." He looked past me, towards the door of whatever room was behind me. "Butter Sweet, how would you feel about a trip to Canterlot come saturday?" Slim asked his daughter as she trotted into the room. She stopped up as she came to the coffee table between me and Slim, looking between the two of us. "Say Barron, is there an age limit for this gala of yours?"

Butters' face lit up at that, grinnin' real wide as she awaited my answer. "Haha, it's open to all ages, Slim. Management for it is comin' from the Princess herself, in fact."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to go see what all the fuss is about, won't we Butters?"

It always pleased me to see children happy like that.

> Chapter 4: Old Magics
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was around 12:30 PM when I was out the door of Provolone Slim's plantation house. I had asked him if there was anything I could do to repay him for his hospitality, to which he of course protested, but he eventually did tell me something. Apparently he had a bit of a diamond dog problem.

Now, I ain't never met a diamond dog, so I don't know what it is they'd want with Slim's farmland, but apparently there was a couple of 'em rompin' around on his fields, diggin' up the earth and making a mess of things. I've heard a couple stories of how folks'll sometimes pick a fight with these things, and almost always the dogs'll just dig into the earth, disappearin' from where anypony can find 'em. That'd be real fine and all, if'n they stayed down there, but I gotta make sure that they don't come back up. At least, not in Slim's fields.

Flyin' overhead of Slim's plantation now, I began scannin' for the dogs. It wasn't too hard to spot where they'd been, as a couple crops of wheat a ways north were trampled, the stalks all bowed over and unhealthy lookin' like somethin' had trudged over it. A little ways further north and I saw 'em; two white coated dogs, about twice the size of a pony, with these weird lookin' jackets and boots. One of 'em saw me and pointed me out to the other. Tryin' the diplomatic approach, I waved at 'em and dove in slow to see if I could converse with the fellas.

Thankfully, they didn't dig away, disappearin' into the ground. They stood side by side as I came down, watchin' me. One of them had blue eyes, the other had brown. Other than that, they were identical. I trotted on up to 'em both and put on a real friendly smile. "Howdy there fellas. Might I ask what it is y'all're doin' out here?"

They both looked at me for a moment, then to each other, then back to me. Eventually, one of 'em spoke up, speakin' in a real weird sounding dialect with an accent I couldn't quite place. "We are diamond dogs. There are gems here. We want them."

Gems, huh? Well I mean, it made sense, them bein' diamond dogs and all. But regardless of the credibility of their claims, this was Provolone Slim's land, and his crops were sufferin' for them dog's meddlin'. "Well, that's real nice an' all, but I'm afraid y'all can't dig here. This ain't your land."

The blue eyed one stared at me for a second before laughing aloud. "Why? Does little pony want land all to himself? We are diamond dogs. You are pony. Your words mean nothing to us." The brown eyed one nodded to that.

Well, that wasn't very pleasant. "See here," I began as I dug a piece of parchment from my saddlebags, unrolling it to show 'em a property map. "This land belongs to Provolone Slim. Those crops y'all have been tearin' up is his. That ain't good for nopony, hear. There's plenty of land that don't belong to nopony, why don't you dig somewhere that isn't gonna hurt somepony else?"

"Are you Provolone Slim?" The brown eyed dog bent down to put his face in front of mine. I didn't budge an inch.

"No sir I am not, but I represent his intentions-"

"If you are not Provolone Slim then your words mean nothing. Provolone Slim does not exist and you lie to us. This land is ours." The brown eyed one said with a grin, before laughing great big. I was jus' about confused by now.

"Jambone is a joker," the blue eyed dog said. "He is right though, if you are not Provolone Slim then we do not believe you."

I think I got what they meant. I placed the map back into my bags, before alightin' on my wings to bring myself a little higher than them. "Now y'all can't fool me. I know y'all have met Slim. He's told me he tried to speak with youns' on several occasions, but every time y'all just dug back into the earth."

The brown eyed one - Jambone apparently - piped up again, talkin' through the last notions of laughter. "Pony does not matter to us! We are diamond dogs! Pony should fear and loathe us!" He did get a slightly disgruntled look from the other dog for that, to which he just laughed even more.

I let out a sigh. "Now, you listen here. This here is Equestria, sovern' land of Princess Celestia, and y'all are performin' a crime by messin' up Slim's fields. I don't mind y'all diggin' around in open land, but don't come invading on pony property if you don't want to get the police on you." Admittedly, there wasn't actually much of a police force at all out here, but they'd surely still respond to the call.

Jambone looked over to his companion, whom seemed to be comprehending what I was gettin' at pretty well. "Do we care about pony princess?" The way he said 'princess' made me want to buck him right good. Pacifist or not, I ain't okay with foul words fer the princess.

The blue eyed fellow - whom I still didn't know the name of - spoke in a more business-like tone, as he said, "We are diamond dogs. We do not understand, entirely, the pony laws. Ground is ground to us. If you will bring us your pony princess, we will speak to him about where we can and cannot dig."

Trying very hard to fight back a twitch, I 'calmly' corrected them. "Well, our princess is a mare, and she's admittedly far too busy to come all the way out here to settle a property dispute. How about I bring you the fellow who owns the land, Provolone Slim?"

Blue eyed fella nodded to that. "Yes, we will speak to Slim pony."

Well all right then.

...

Back at the plantation house, I was getting a little worried for time, but all this would mean is maybe a faster flight back to Canterlot. I'd be fine.

I still knocked at the door, and Butters still opened the door for me. She invited me in without hesitation this time, which I found to be a might more pleasant. "Where's your father, young'n?"

Again Butters hollered out into the vast expanse of their house, calling for her father. "Daaaad! Cowpony here needs you!"

Cowpony? I didn't think I was a cowpony. Well, I guess I sort of talk the part...

Soon enough Provolone Slim came to greet me again. "So what did the dogs say?"

"Well, uh," I started, which probably could have been done better. "They don't seem to comprehend our laws. They don't seem to comprehend maps, or property lines... Or gender. I'm fairly certain they don't even know about Princess Celestia. Or the Sun."

Slim laughed. "You serious? They live in Equestria! How can they not know about Celestia? Or the Sun? And what was that about genders-"

"They wanted to speak to you directly." I narrowly avoided having to explain their failure to comprehend the definition of princess.

Slim took on a much more serious tone now, saying, "I already tried speaking with them. They just dug a hole and disappeared. Why should I speak to them at all after what they done? It'll take a good couple of years to recover from the deficit in our production they've caused. I've half a mind to flat out have them arrested. Or handle things myself."

Whoa nelly! "Now hold up there, Slim! What do you mean, handle things yourself-"

He quickly exited the foyer and headed off. I don't never handle violence well, and it sounded an awful lot like things were going to turn violent. I looked down to Butters, whom seemed to have the same concern I did. Varmints and pests were one thing, but these creatures were wholly conscious! A far stretch of the concept of civilized, but close enough! I didn't never feel like violence solved nothin'. I had to prevent Slim from hurtin' those dogs.

Even if one of 'em called our princess a him.

...

Things were not lookin' good. Slim came back through the foyer just as I went to look for him. He had a gun. Guns don't never mean nothin' good. It was time to put a hoof down.

"Provolone Slim! Now, I appreciate your hospitality, an' all, but I cannot stand for this. I don't agree one bit with violence, as it ain't never the right way about things. The diamond dogs said they'd be willing to speak to you! Don't that mean-"

"Now listen here, friend." Slim cut me off, turnin' to face me as he loaded his gun. I didn't rightly know what kind it was, but it had six shots. The bullets looked big. "You've told me all I need to know. These diamond dogs are obviously not intelligent enough to be dealt with in a peaceful manner. And guns have been my specialty since as long as I could trot. You feel free to stay here with my daughter, but I'm going to fix this problem, the way I know best." He turned to exit out the door.

No way that's happening, pal. I quickly flew in front of him to block him from going out the door. "I can't let you do that," I said calmly, as I placed a hoof gently on his shoulder. "These creatures, these diamond dogs, are indeed a heck of a lot less intelligent than us ponies, but they're still civil. The fact they can hold a darn conversation with yours truly proves that! Listen, all I'm askin' is that you give 'em a chance to speak with you. They're fine folks, Slim. They're just a bit confused."

He looked a bit mad at that, but he holstered his gun at his hip - a show of genuine flexibility considerin' he had to hold it in his mouth - and nodded his agreement. "You come with me then, and serve as translator. Butters, dear, hold down the fort 'til I get back, okay?" The way he spoke with his daughter was like she was genuinely one of his own. Considerin' he was a retired soldier of fortune, I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

...

On our way out to the pastures and fields, Provolone told me a story about a similar job he had done back in Saddle Arabia. Apparently there's a snake-like race out there that do a similar thing to what the diamond dogs do here in Equestria.

"Well, we'd tried asking nicely, begging, even tried complaining, but nothing seemed to be convincing them to leave. Tunnel Snakes is deaf, I tell you. Even tried fire, but their scales was made of gems and rocks, anyhow, so that didn't do anything but make our job harder."

I snickered at that. "Fire? You tried fire in a tunnel? Y'all know wind only travels one way in a tunnel, right?"

"Should of told that to Beans. He could of killed us."

Wait. Beans...? "Are you makin' a joke?" I was afraid of whether or not to laugh.

Slim did laugh, though I still wasn't sure. "I see what you're getting at, but no he didn't gas us out or anything. Beans was just called beans because he had spots on him. Rare breed, that fellow. No, he was the one that suggested pyrotechnics. At least we didn't go with Pots' idea of flooding it with bees. That guy was always a little nuttier than the rest of us."

Pots? "Did all of y'all have code names like Pots and Beans?"

"No no, see his name was Honey Pots. He was brought up on a bee farm. Never have trusted bee farmers. That's just crazy. They're bees!"

We both laughed then. "What about Beans then?" I asked.

"Well, he never did tell us his first name, which was fine enough for us, as we never did bother calling each other by first names anyway. He had this real interesting way of speaking. He'd call anybody boss. He'd go 'ayy boss, look ova here' or 'ayy boss, I found yer princess'," he said in a very comical city accent. "I swear he was from Manehattan." Slim scratched his chin a bit as we paused beside one of the fences by the pasture. "We did find a document on him one time when we were doing a bank job though. I still don't believe it, but it was a birth certificate that said his name was Cool Beans."

"Cool Beans... That is hard to believe," I agreed with him.

"Well, anyway, let me tell you how we figured out how to get them out," Slim began as we started towards the fields again. "The Tunnel Snakes lived underground, see, so they were blind. Entirely blind, didn't even have eyes. It was pretty cool looking actually. The way they traveled was echo-location. They'd use the rattlers on their tails to hear where the gems were, apparently. I don't see how though considering all the noise we made didn't phase them at all. Until I ended up so fired up and mad that I just started pounding my hooves all over, and sure enough they came right up out of those holes. From then on I had the fantastic title of Ground Poundin' Slim. The boys even put it on a birthday cake once."

"So you beat your hooves so hard it scared the Tunnel Snakes out? That's kind of scary, actually. I'd hate to see how hard you can kick."

"How do you figure we got all the lumber to build the plantation house?" Slim nodded towards his house. "This whole area used to have nothing but trees."

"Well then. That answers that, I suppose."

Soon enough we were back to where I had spoke with the diamond dogs, only there weren't any dogs. "This is where we spoke, but..."

"The darn rascals. They dug away again!" Slim an' I proceeded to looked around for holes in the dirt, but neither of us found any.

"Well where are they then?" I asked to nopony in particular, perhaps to the earth itself.

For a second I thought the earth was going to answer me, 'cause it started to grumble as a patch of dirt next to a tree started to give a little. Then a familiar blue-eyed dog's head poked out and scanned around a bit before spotting us and hopped out of the hole completely. Behind him came his companion Jambone, hoistin' a sack over his shoulder, which appeared to be full up of somethin' heavy.

"Slim, this is Jambone annnnd..." I started, before remembering I'd never been given the other one's name.

Apparently the blue-eyed one picked up on that and filled it in for me. "Sam. You may call me Sam."

Odd name, but okay. "Sam, then. Jambone and Sam, this is Provolone Slim, the owner of this here piece of land."

Slim took that as his cue to step up to the plate and swing, metaphorically speaking (I hope). "You two have caused me a lot of grief, you know. I'm short quite a few bits because you lot have gone and ruined half my crop. How are you going to explain yourselves?" He was stood in such a way as to make it abundantly clear he was armed. I don't know if the message got across.

"We need gems. We are diamond dogs. Gems are here, so we dig for them here." Jambone eloquently explained.

"We have no family or tribe to go to. Me and Jambone are alone together." Sam explained in a much more clearer fashion, although it didn't quite help explain things. "We find gems and sell them to merchants. It is how we survive."

Slim seemed to relax a bit, although he still kept a ready stance, which did not sit well with me. "Well, I can understand needing to trade to survive, but that doesn't excuse using someone else's land to get those trading resources. Now I've tried several times to speak to you two, but every time you just hid in the ground. What did you expect me to think when I saw the two of you romping around in my fields, only to have you dig away when I came over to speak? That just looks like y'all are a bunch of vandals, to me."

"Vandals!" Jambone barked. "Diamond dogs are not vandals! Our worth is much more than your little pony farm! You don't have any gems! These gems are ours!" He howled, pointing at the whole of Slim's farm with his free paw. Not good, things are going downhill.

Provolone Slim got a real grim look on his face, but much to my gratitude he didn't move from where he stood.

I had to try and keep things tame! "Hey hey, there's plenty of room for negotiation here. Equestrian Law clearly dictates that all races can live together equally. We can come to a real easy understandin' here. Ponies are meant to-"

"I do not care about ponies!" Jambone barked at me. His breath smelled like something rotten. "Your plants are not worth our time! Your farm will be ours!"

That was it for slim. Lightning fast, he whipped his gun out of the holster at his hip, and had it trained right between Jambone's eyes. Time fer words was over, it was time for action. Trying my darnedest to match Slim's speed, without thinking I jumped to get between him and Jambone, just as Sam did the same. We slammed right into each other.

"You tricked us!" Sam yowled as he recovered from bumping into me so hard. I had put about as much energy into getting between those two as I could. "You want to kill us!"

"That ain't it at all!" I bellowed out as loud as I could, tryin' to draw as much attention as possible. I moved again to get between Slim and Jambone, taking care to move a little more carefully. I got in front of Slim's gun and he hesitated, pulling it away a bit. This was way too heated for a courier! "Look here. This mess ain't doin' nothin' but makin' a bigger mess. Y'all need to see things as they are, here! Both of y'all need this land for your own livelihoods. Both of y'all can use this land, too. Together!" I motioned towards the dogs. "They only need what's under the ground. They don't have to be above ground at all for what they do. Slim, you need the top soil for your crops. Their digging can go on completely beneath your farm, without causing any harm to it. Does that sound like good enough of a deal?"

"What makes you think I wanted to strike a deal with them?" Slim growled at me through gritted teeth around his gun. "They've said it! They're going to take my land! I won't stand for that!"

"Then sit down!" I retorted back at him. "It don't matter what y'all want, because there's a third party here too. The ground don't need either of you fightin' over it like this. This here is good land, real good. It's got what both of y'all need, and it's just offering it to you openly. Now there's two ways this can go. Either both parties agree on some kind of settlement deal, or somepony-some... body gets hurt, and a bunch of trouble is started when it don't need to be. If'n y'all will sit down and just talk things out rather than callin' names and pointin', I figure we can come to an agreement."

The next few seconds seemed to go by slow enough to count 'em ten times over. Finally, though, Slim holstered his gun and backed down, and Jambone relaxed back to his haunches. "Let's hear it." Slim offered.

"You have come close to battle, pony." Sam said to me. "Be careful you do not make an offer you cannot keep."

"We want the gems." Jambone growled to Provolone Slim, thrusting his claw into the dirt.

"Where are the gems? If you lot are digging too close to the surface, you could damage my crops." Slim stated. Already I was feeling more relaxed, as things started to calm down into a more diplomatic exchange.

Sam spoke up next, which I was happy for, as he definitely seemed the more articulate of the pair. "We dig tunnels through the rock and earth to find gems. We found gems under your farm, but the rock is too hard. We cannot get in."

"So that's why you have been digging up my land? To find somewhere soft enough down below that you can get to the gems?" Slim was thankfully sitting back now as well.

"We may have also maybe made the ground angry, a little bit..." Jambone said sheepishly, apparently embarrassed by whatever it was he'd done.

"Made the ground..." I tried. It didn't make sense, which seemed a common theme with the poor mutt.

Slim chuckled, saying, "Son, you don't ever make much sense do you?" It was clear now he was making a jest, which I was a might thankful for, because that meant we were on better terms than threats and guns.

"We dug into a hole," Sam tried to help glean some knowledge out of what Jambone was saying. Jambone was just lookin' away, apparently very disgruntled about the whole thing. "A big open part, where there were rocks that moved, and they didn't like us."

"Who didn't like you?" I asked him.

"The rocks."

... Yup, lost me again. "Okay, so the rocks moved, and they don't like you. What does that mean? Did they kick y'all out or somethin'?"

Jambone nodded to that. Apparently rock beats dog. Go figure.

Slim chuckled again. "Y'all came across some sprites, didn't you?" He motioned towards the hills to the north. "They come from a patch of unsettled crust. They're manifestations of the earth; essentially the earth is grumpy because it's got too many cracks."

I was lost again. Can you do that? Can you be lost twice?

"Yes, the little floating rocks with the mean gems in them? They hurt my backside with their lightning!" Jambone whimpered, holding his tail and indeed showing a decently burned patch of fur.

"So you encountered some beneath my land? That must be why the soil is so rich... Well this is a real revelation." Slim scratched his chin again, a thing he did when he was about to go on a tangent, I noticed. "You know, a friend of mine once managed to befriend one of those sprites. Apparently it was trapped in a gorge when a rockfall happened. Being a pegasus, he flew in when he saw the flashing lights coming from the sprite, and after a bit of soft speaking, he flew the thing right out. I don't know if he's still going at it, but he used to be an archaeologist. Digging up old pony artifacts and relics and selling them to universities and museums. The big dragon skeleton at Canterlot Museum? He helped dig that up."

"D-dragon?" Sam and Jambone both whimpered. "No more dragons! They are scary!"

"What are y'all on about?" I asked. I'd never met a dragon, but still, they looked absolutely petrified of 'em.

Slim offered an explanation. "That news you heard about a so-called dragon attack? It was an old drake migrating from southern Equestria to the northern ice fields to visit a newborn grandchild. I spoke with him when he got chained down by the guards. Apparently he flew over a diamond dog camp and the dogs attacked him. Knocked him right out of the sky with their rocks and javelins, somehow. Poor fellow just became a grandfather and he was getting imprisoned for nothing. Pisses me right off, you know..."

I understand it now. Typical media, lying for revenue. Pissed me off, too.

"Anyway! Back on topic." Slim said to the dogs. "The sprites, how many are there?"

Sam pondered it for a minute, his ear doin' a little twitch ever so often. "The cave was big, and it looked like it went down far. We saw a lot of the rock sprites, but we did not see all of the cave. There were many gems in it, though..."

"Well, I suppose you found yourselves a ravine. They're all over round here, and usually they'll be full up with the sprites. How far beneath the surface do you figure the ravine is?"

Jambone stood up suddenly, and pointed to the fields where they'd dug up the ground. "The hole was big, and we never got to it from the top, so it is very far down. But so are our gems!"

"Mister Slim pony, do you think you can help us get rid of the rock sprites?" Sam asked politely. Diamond dogs weren't so bad after all! Just misunderstood like most things in Equestria.

"Hmm..." Slim paused to think for a moment, looking over to his fields. "Idea!" I suddenly shouted aloud in a strangely excited manner. "Here's my proposal. Y'all have caused a fair bit of damage to my fields, and that's not going to be easy to make up, without help. So, if you'll tend to the fields you damaged, I'll see about getting to that ravine. I'll even try getting ahold of Pyrite to see if he's still in the archaeology business. Might be something down there. If we manage to get to the ravine, I'll let y'all go down there. But, we'll have to do something about the sprites. Pyrite might be able to help with that, as well."

"Does Slim pony promise to let us keep the gems we find?" Jambone asked cautiously.

"The gems are yours, boys. I can't turn gems into bits as easy as I can with my crops."

Sam reached for the sack they had with them. "We do have an offering, Slim pony." He opened it up, revealing that it was full of gems! Red, green, blue, yellow. A whole rainbow of brilliant colors!

"Why, I can't... I mean..." Slim stuttered a bit as he stared at the obvious fortune. "That'd be enough to bail out that dragon! And then some!"

Bail for a dragon? Wow, that must be a lot if it'd take that many gems.

"So do we have a deal, pony?" Jambone asked, offering his paw.

Slim thought for a moment, but quickly took the dog's paw in both hooves and shook. "It's a deal. I'll teach y'all how to tend to the fields, and I'll get ahold of Pyrite and see about sorting out this ravine."

Well that went better than expected. I should start a side business of a law firm or something.

...

Back at the plantation house, me and Provolone Slim were sat in his lounge. It was about 1:30 PM, which meant I'd be gettin' to Ponyville by dusk most likely. Butters was sat on the floor playing with some toy figures of a knight and a princess. She was makin' 'em fight, which I found comical.

"Well I do believe I've made a couple of friends today, Skyes." Slim said after a sip of dark tea, which he'd brewed after we got back. Apparently the brew was an old Saddle Arabian brew, meant to 'steep the mind and soothe the soul' whatever that meant. "You've shown me something I've never seen before. I've always been the type to try and settle things on my own, but you taught me today that it takes more than one to fix a problem."

"Aw, shucks," I said. "It's part of bein' a courier. I see all sorts of faces every day, and I learn about so many ponies, it helps t' take the diplomatic approach. But really, I didn't do much. You resolved the dispute between yourselves!"

Slim shook his head at that. "No, you did a whole lot. If it weren't for you I'd of killed two perfectly fine gentlemen today. Instead, I ended up getting two new fieldhands, and a fortune's worth of gems!"

Butters piped up now. "What're you gonna do with the gems, daddy?"

"I was about to mention that, actually. What you done for me is more than I could ever ask for from a guest. You've done right by me beyond any reasonable measure, and a knight always pays his debts. I'm going to give you these gems, Barron Skyes, and there isn't any way you're going to say no. Now it's up to you what you do with 'em, but I genuinely can't let you leave here without them."

This was too much. Literally I could retire with those gems! Like, ten times! "I can't say I ain't happy, but I'm a whole lot more just plain terrified. That's a lot of money, Slim! I don't know any bank that'd take all of that sum!"

"Well, as I said, you do with 'em as you please. Give them back to the dogs for all I care. I just can't do anything with them, personally. I figure you'll find somepony that can use them, though."

Hm... Idea. "You know, I think I do know what I can do with those gems."

"Well that's grand. Say, do you know the old Hearth's Warming Eve tale?" Slim moved on pretty quickly to a new topic.

"With the windigos? I believe so. Why do you ask?"

"Well," he began, scratching his chin again. "You've done something pretty magical today. The story says the three tribes fended off the dark spirits by being jolly and friendly. Apparently, through friendship, they resolved the conflicts causing the nigh end of times. I believe you've woven some similar magic today, friend."

The magic of friendship, huh... "Well I never much considered myself a magician anyhow. Think of it as just part of the job."

"Well your job gives you a mighty good opportunity to weave some friendship magic, Skyes. Be sure you never take that for granted."

> Chapter 5: Financial Flight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sure enough, gems were not a very sought after commodity out here in the valley. Anywhere, really. Them diamond dogs somehow got a profit out of 'em though, so I figured it'd have to be at least a little easy to get some bits for 'em. Maybe if I put me on a suit and a tie I'd sell 'em better? But the dogs didn't wear suits. Hay, they probably couldn't wear suits! I wonder if a dragon could wear a suit, some kind of giant dragon-sized business suit...

That was my plan for the gems. I was hopin' to sell them, and use the bits to bail out that dragon. f'n I'm honest, and I am, it didn't wholly make sense for a dragon to get a bail at all. Maybe Equestrian Law was just extremely equal-opportunity for suspects? That's silly.

Well, there was one thing I hadn't tried, and there was a good reason for it. I could try sellin' the gems back to the dogs, but that's just plain wrong. Literally I'd be selling their gift back to them. That's one of the lowest things somepony could do, and sadly I'd seen it a bunch. Hay, in Canterlot it was almost standard practice to sell back whatever people gave you. But that was Canterlot, and this out here was country. You don't do Canterlot in country.

An idea struck me just as I had that thought! Not sure why really, the two didn't really seem associated at all. I could try selling the gems to a different party of diamond dogs! That'd just about be a done deal if I did that! Now how could I find a new set of diamond dogs... Aw hay.

...

I was still in the town of Middlewhinney, which happened to be in the middle of the valley. It was a trade town, originally based out of a mine. The mine closed decades ago, but folks could still go inside and... look at rocks, I suppose?

"...They say she tried to attack the Princess!"

What now? I'd overheard somepony talking, and the topic just about spooked me out of my skin. I galloped over to where I heard the ponies talking, a little outdoor cafe area. "What was that I just heard you say?" I asked the teal coated mare and her friend... He had a tie on. Collar and tie, interesting wardrobe choice for this sort of place. Maybe a business pony wouldn't be so out of place out here after all?

"Take a look," the tie wearin' fella said, as he- hold on. He pulled a news paper out from his collar. Okay, wizard earth pony. Don't question it. "Apparently one of Princess Celestia's star pupils was caught using illegal magic."

The news paper said as much. Young unicorn student uses dark magic in Canterlot Unicorn Academy. Library up in flames, college district in lock down. Princess vows to greatly increase monitoring and documentation on library usage over the next quarter. Star pupil Xyra Lovebloom to have trial in one week. Sugar-coated-sunflower-seeds! Dark magic... I wasn't even sure what that was! I needed to get this job done quick and get back home. "Was anypony hurt in the uh... incident?" I asked them.

"Nopony knows. The media isn't being permitted to say much." The teal mare told me. "The doctor here said he'd been in the area when it happened though."

Wait a moment. How could this have happened without me knowing? It had to of happened while I was still in Canterlot! And that was just a few hours ago! "When did this happen?" I asked them.

"Just today, actually," the fella told me as he took back the news paper and... put it back in his collar. "The press hopped on it quick and the news is spreading like wildfire. I saw the library windows blow out. All of them. It was like somepony had detonated a bomb in there, but it was just pitch black inside."

"Dark magic, huh... Well, the Princess is okay right?" If our leader was injured, while we were so tense with some of our borders, things could only go poorly.

"She was the one to go in and stop the filly." The doctor explained. "I was told that the poor thing wasn't even in control of herself. There's a reason spell books like that are locked up."

I needed to get a move on. Things did not sound good on the home front. "Hey uh, sorry to change the topic so fast, but I'm on a schedule here. Do y'all know where I can go to sell some gems? Maybe some friendly diamond dogs nearby?"

They pondered that for a moment, then the doctor spoke up again. "Head west along that road," he said, motioning to the road in question. "Follow it until you come to a bridge over a river, there should be a little camp just a ways down stream. I don't know if they're friendly, but I saw some diamond dogs out there recently."

"Hey, thanks so much for your help. Y'all keep safe, you hear? These is weird times." I shook their hooves and moved on.

...

That doctor fella was an odd one, but I couldn't quite put my hoof on it. Somehow an earth pony had been in Canterlot earlier today, and between now and the time I had left Canterlot, he'd also made it all the way out here. Whatever, some ponies are just faster than others I suppose.

I'd grabbed my cart again and was heading west along that road he'd mentioned, and the skies were getting darker again. It was around 3:00, which further tightened my schedule. The road didn't take long out of the town until it reached the bridge, and I had spotted the camp a ways out. I carefully approached the camp, landing and walking the last dozen meters or so. Sure enough, a diamond dog came out of one of the tents and spotted me. He quickly alerted a few more, and the three of them came out to meet me.

I made sure to speak first. "Howdy, fellas. I'm lookin' to make a trade." Simple enough, no horsin' around.

They looked at me, then at each other, then back to me. The tallest fella spoke up. "What kind of trade, little pony?"

Good, they're open to a deal! I quickly unhitched from my cart and went around to the back of it to get the sack of gems. I brought it over to 'em so they could see as I opened it up, revealing the gems inside. "I need to get rid of these, and I'm hopin' you fellas might be willin' to buy."

They definitely looked interested. "How many gems do you have, pony?" One of them asked me.

"I'm not sure of any definite measure, but I can say they weigh about 50 pounds all together." If'n they're able to comprehend weight, that might be a good way to make this deal.

They looked at each other again, the smaller two looking up at the tall fella as if expecting him to make a decision. He scratched his chin, wiggled his brow, moved his head round a bit to inspect the quantity. Then he nodded, and gave me an offer. "This is a lot of gems. We can give 5000 bits for them."

100 bits a pound? That's pretty decent! But 5000 bits in physical currency... "Do y'all do checks?" I'd imagine they'd have to. There's no way they've just got 5000 actual bits lying around. This is why checks exist, after all.

"Checks?" They asked me all at once. Well, pony feathers.

"Right... Well uh, do you have those 5000 bits?" I'd like to at least see the mass of coins. This was possibly the craziest deal ever made.

The tallest fella nodded to one of the others, whom then ran off to one of the tents and quickly came back with a box. It was a simple footlocker, with a length of chain wrapped around it. "We made them into bars." He said, as he removed the chain and opened up the box to reveal about 10 solid gold bars!

"Holy horse apples!" I exclaimed! "Okay, now that's a bit different from bits, fellas. Y'all sure them was bits y'all melted?" Actual bits were made from mostly copper, and melting them down was pretty darn illegal! The resulting mess would definitely not make solid gold bars, anyway.

"We found them in someplace underground," the shortest one explained. "Spot said they were pony coins, so we took them. They weren't being used after all."

Ooookay... So these dogs found 'pony coins' and turned 'em into solid gold bars. This was definitely the weirdest day ever. "Well uh... Y'all may have destroyed some very valuable artifacts there, but not anything I should worry about right? So do we have a deal?" I settled on just acceptin' what I could get done and getting out of there. I wasn't aware of any laws on artifacts or their destruction, but considering what I was intending to do with this money, it might of been a better idea to try using the gems directly as bail. Hay, 5000 bits could buy a house! Maybe not a Canterlot house, but still, that's a very large sum of money.

While I was ponderin' the workings of Equestrian real estate, the dogs were debatin' among themselves about, I assumed, our deal.

"But we need food!"

"We had a cat..."

"We don't need food, we need money to buy food!"

"Where's the kitty?"

I wasn't sure what they were debating about, actually.

"Pony says these bars are worth how many bits?" One of them said, finally addressing me.

Oh sweet Celestia! Just one of those bars were worth at least 10 bigguns! And they had ten of them! Do the math, hoss, that's an obscene amount of money. "Listen fellas. These here gems are worth 5000 bits, total. And y'all got a big box of gold bars there. This deal ain't even, and I'm on the short end. I can take one of those bars for this, but that's all I'll accept." I couldn't believe I was hagglin' against myself. But seriously! Just one of those gold bars could retire me four times over. I ain't never been a greedy pony, but I'll admit, the idea of a gold bar was quite attractive. But this wasn't for me. This was for Equestria's newest dragon grandad.

The dogs on the other hand were completely baffled. "Is pony trying to fool us?" the short fellow asked one of the others.

"Not at all fellas. I'll be the first to tell you," I explained, "y'all have a regular fortune on your uh... Paws. Them bars could buy you a whole city district, I'd bet."

"Well what about the gems? We want gems right?"

Oh, good, now they were questionin' their own base nature. I may have caused a family feud here.

"I want a kitty..."

"These bits are bars?"

"Gems are still important."

"All right, all right," I raised my voice only slightly, to draw the trio back into the topic at hoof. Er, paw, by majority. "So are we at an understandin'? These here gems are worth about 5000, and one of those bars is worth 10000. That means either y'all come out at a loss, or y'all have to find something else to trade." I wasn't about to make a deal that somepony- er, some-dog wasn't happy with.

"So," the tallest dog started, slowly. "Pony wants just one bit for his gems?"

I wanted to facehoof, but it'd be rude. I was startin' to understand my sister's lament. "No, no. I'll accept one bar. Those are bars."

"Pony is confusing. You only want one 'bar' for gems, then?" The dog sounded slightly annoyed, but it really didn't seem all that hard to understand. Poor fellows, they just didn't get it did they?

"Yes, I'll accept one bar for these gems. Any more would unfair for you lot."

The dogs looked at one another for a moment, before the tallest one shrugged and pushed the whole box towards me! "Pony can have all the bits. We cannot use them. We can use gems, so we will have gems."

Well this was definitely the most impossible day ever. "Are y'all sure about this? I can't rightly accept this, in my right mind, if'n y'all ain't entirely certain about it." I honestly wasn't sure I wanted that much gold on my hooves at all!

"Yes!" The tall fella exclaimed, obviously sick of the discussion. "We take gems now!"

I quickly hoofed over the gems. "Now, if'n one of y'all would put that there box on my cart, I'll be on my way." There was no way in high heaven I was goin' to move that thing on my own.

But they ran off quicker than I could even finish my sentence! So I was left with a box of gold bars worth 100000 bits and not much of a means to carry it. This seemed a little bit like irony, but I wasn't sure exactly what that meant. Well, ain't no concern of m

I figured out a way to load the bars onto my cart pretty easily. I just emptied out the 10 bars, put the box onto the cart, and then put the bars back again. Once that was done, I locked it up again with the chain that had been around it, and then tied it down with some straps. If I somehow end up with any of this left, I figure I'll donate it to the recovery of the library in Canterlot. I couldn't let myself keep so much money earned so unfairly, even if it was a done deal.

...

It was nearing about 5:00 when I arrived at the guardhouse that was essentially the only police station in the valley. I had to gain a little altitude before I was able to spot it, but it wasn't too hard to find. There were several watch towers around the fenced in area where the guard house was, and it was on top of a hill, so it hadn't really been any trouble at all.

I was really nervous about this. The whole ordeal, tryin' t' bail out a dragon, the gold bars, the delivery job I was supposed to have already been halfway done with... It seemed like today was pullin' all the stops to, well, stop me. Well it ain't so easy to stop Barron Skyes! This here is just the way things was, and I wasn't about to let a little foul weather or a bizarre business agreement prevent me from getting the job done. I'd bake pies all night if I had to in order to get them platters back to Canterlot on time!

I pulled up to the front gate, where a guard pony was stood, apparently guarding the guardhouse. "Well howdy there partner," I greeted him cheerily. "Mind if I step in to speak to yer sheriff?"

"Mmh." The fella grunted, and unlocked the gate. He was a pegasus, I noted. Good golly would I hate to be stuck standin' guard like that all day. I'd go mad! I just can't stand to be in one place for too long.

As I went to go on through the gate, though, the guard pony stopped me. "Gotta leave the cart out here, pal. Can't be too careful, you know how it is these days."

I understood completely, an' went ahead and unhitched my cart, settin' it off to the side of the road. "Hey uh, listen." I needed to let him know what was in there. "I got a pretty large sum of valuables in that cart, so could you just, y'know, make sure nopony tries to nab it?"

"You can count on me, sir." He nodded. Thank Celestia for decent folks. Just in case though, I made sure to tie the cart to the fence. That kind of a payload just required extra security measures. Can't be too careful.

...

The main office of the guardhouse was actually pretty small. Just a side room with a single desk, mahogany I noted. The sheriff wasn't in there though, so I went to look for another pony, maybe the deputy.

There seemed to be nopony around at all, which struck me as odd. For that matter, no dragon around, which struck me as alarming. I probably should have noticed that sooner, but I guess I was expecting them to have kept him in a jail cell? Yeah, that was real likely. Smooth thinkin' Skyes.

Interruptin' my inner turmoil, the sheriff stepped in through a back door and stopped in his trot. "Who're you?" He was an earth pony with a light green coat and a fiery red mane, cut short in a military fade. The star on his chest confirmed that he was indeed the sheriff.

"Me? Name's Barron. I'm here with an inquiry about tha dragon y'all had holed up." Probably best not to give him my whole courier pony spill. I figure he probably didn't really care who I was, just why I was there.

"Well, howdy Barron. I be Sheriff Clover, an' this 'ere is me own li'l district o' paradise. Wha' was it ya was lookin' t' ask 'bout?" His voice was absolutely spot on for how he looked. Deep with a slightly eastern accent. Okay, very thick eastern accent, but he wasn't any trouble to understand, mostly.

"All right," I began, readyin' myself to explain just about everything. "Just outside, I got with me a sum of gold. 10 bars, equating to about a hundred thousand bits. I was lookin' to see if I could bail out that dragon."

Clover stared at me for a while, his jaw slightly agape, before coughing and shaking his head. "Y' gots whatnow?" He stepped in further from the door, and ran his hoof across his scalp as he proceeded to parse what I'd told him. "I'm gon' 'ave t' see this."

...

I'd pulled the cart in to the inside of the fenced area, where Sheriff Clover could take a look at the box full of gold. I opened it up, and heard him whistle as he took in the sight.

"How'd y' come 'cross such a lov'ly find?" He asked me after looking the gold over.

"Believe it or not, diamond dogs. I had some gems, they had this. If I'm honest I came out leagues ahead in the deal, and I feel a bit guilty about it. But I ain't seekin' to keep none of it for myself, sir. I was hopin' to use this as bail for the dragon y'all had locked up."

"Th' drake? Ah, we uh, sent 'im on 'is way t' a prison way up north 'is mornin'. Y' wouldn't believe 'ere's a 'ole entire prison jus' fer' o'ersized suspects!"

Well piss-apple-pies. "Can I still bail him out?" This was not good!

Clover thought for a moment, then spoke again. "Eh, folks 'ave been wonderin' 'bout tha' dragon. Lotta ponies feel sorry for 'im. If I was t' figure, I'd say th' caravan he's on i' still within th' valley. You migh' be able t' catch 'em. As far as t' lot o' gold y' got there, I don' think there's e'er been a bail made wit' gold bars. Nor has a dragon e'er been bailed out by a pony before... Bet you what." This fella was a real talkin' piece, but he wasn't too hard to understand. He spoke fast, but to such a cadence that I could kind of keep up. I did feel short a few syllables though.

"So the caravan should still be within the valley?" I asked him, politely tryin' to make sure what I heard was actual words and not alter-cultural gibberish. "What should I look for? What's the caravan company, or is it privately owned?"

He stared at me for a moment, his facial expression not changin' in the slightest. Just before it got real awkward, he suddenly inhaled sharply and nodded his head, as if comin' to some sort of realization. He then walked into one of the office rooms, wordlessly. I tentatively followed him in, and found him rummagin' through a box of files.

"What's all that for?" I asked, rather incredulously.

He looked over his shoulder at me for a moment, before returnin' to his rummagin'. Occasionally he'd nicker or whinny, as he rifled through seemin'ly uninterestin' documents. Oh hay, do I hate paperwork.

"Aye! There is is," Clover exclamed suddenly, causin' me to bump into a desk and nearly knock over a lamp, which I barely managed to catch with my wing. Bein' a Pegasus saved me again. Er, saved a probably inexpensive piece of lighting equipment... Whatever.

"What's that?" I asked him again as he set a folder filled with papers of various colors onto the desk I'd just nearly tackled.

"Records fer th' last quarter on wha' we've hired, commissions, alla that. Th' document 'out wha' comp'ny we hired 'ould be in 'is 'ere."

Ffffuuuaah. I was losing sanity listening to him talk, now. I could hear every word, but they all slew together in a swiss cheese of missing syllables. I was genuinely convinced his talking was gettin' worse.

"Ye', there i' is. I'd say they're on a stop a' Highlian," Clover said as he looked over a bright green piece of paper that he'd pulled out from the mess of other brightly colored papers. "Righ' now. You'd prob'ly be able t' catch 'em if ya left now."

"So you think I'd be able to free him?" Maybe there was still hope! Definitely takin' a vacation after alla this!

"Oh, I don' know, pal. 'Es awf'ly big, an' I cannae righ'ly remember if wha' all he done is permissible fer bail." That bit just barely parsed through my brain. Permissible? For hay's sake, they didn't even hold a court session for the poor fella! T'ain't right.

"I'm going to bail him out. If they won't take this much gold for the fella, they've got a screw or three loose." I turned to leave. "Thank ya kindly for your help, sheriff!"

"Y'all're welcome! Y' be sure t' speak wi' t' commis'ner, 'es t' one seein' t' drake took up north!"

Oh, yikes. The commissioner was actually heading the delivery? I'll need to be extra careful with my words. Then again, if the commissioner deals with Clover on a regular basis, maybe he's got a tolerance for words 'n such.

...

Ponies have always been the sort to protect their own, no matter who or what that may be. Now, that said, dragons come from someplace way far away from Equestria, and there ain't much really known about 'em. Folks tend to associate 'em with those old stories of dragons burnin' villages an' maulin' cattle, or whatever other mess of nonsense them stories told.

The report on the dragon that'd been captured in the valley said he'd attacked someplace, but there hadn't been any reports of fire, or any mortuary reports for that matter. There had however been some sort of explosion, apparently destroying a rather large wind farm an' blowin' apart some thing called an aw-quee-duck, but I don't rightly know what one of them is. The media of course associated the dragon sightin' with the apparent disaster, but you gotta ask... How does a dragon make a wind farm explode?

I was well on my way north towards Highlien, though the weather was lookin' to pick up again, and the clouds overhead looked real unpleasant. There wasn't much of a weather team for out here; the pegasi just managed the weather based on seasons for those areas less populated. It worked in favor for the farmers out here though, because it meant they could get rain without commissionin' a rain storm from the weather teams. Apparently, there's places out there where the weather ain't even controlled at all, an' it just goes willy-nilly. Now that's terrifying.

You know what else is terrifying? Being imprisoned for tryin' to go see your newborn grandkid!

Highlian was another mining town, like Middlewhinney, but much much older. The mines in this particular town were ancient, and mostly off limits from any sort of visitor whatsoever. The majority of the town was just farmers now, however they did have their own courthouse and even a little schoolhouse. The biggest portion of folks that ever visit Highlian are only ever Highlians themselves, as it don't necessarily offer much in commerce or social grace.

A light drizzle was beginnin' to fall as I flew over the last hill between me an' Highlian. The town came into view, stuck onto the side of a mountain. There wasn't much of a sign of the caravan, or any at all really, but I was still a ways out, so I couldn't rightly see much.

Y'know, any other courier wouldn't of stopped at all for any of this mess I got into. Now what that says about me, I don't know. But I do know that I'm confident enough in myself that I'll make this delivery in time, even with all the sidetracking. Speakin' of time, it was nearin' 6:30, and the temperature was startin' to drop, fast. I did not like that one bit. Like I said, the weather out here was a little wild, so it was real hard to know what to expect next.

I picked up the pace, flyin' a little faster as I descended towards the town. There was already a full cloudcover again, and them clouds looked angry. Windigos can stuff it up their tail-ends, I'm gettin' this fella freed, even if there's a darn tornado between me and the dragon!

And to think this mornin' I was worried I'd be gettin' chased down by him.

...

I'd reached the town just as the wind began to pick up, nearly blowin' me into a lamp post as I came in for a landin'. Hard weather ain't never no good for a courier pony, Pegasus or not. It muddies the roads, it wets yer wings and it blows you around. Only thing I could say is much worse is gettn' stuck in a checkpoint. I've heard tell of couriers an' caravaneers gettin' stuck in them things for days, on account of all the paperwork some of 'em will have you give 'em, and that paperwork can take a real long time to process. Systems is nice an' all, but when the system is so complicated it's counteractive, don't you think it'd be a good idea to maybe re-evaluate your system? Whatever, at least weather don't ask for a hundred different documents. Usually.

There wasn't much of nobody out in the streets, on account of the inclement weather. The courthouse was in the center of the town, with a pretty wide cobblestone road leading down from the front of it, and smaller streets wrapped around it. Back behind the courthouse was another length of road, although this particular section of road was fenced off. You'd think there'd be at least a security officer or somepony out here, but there wasn't a soul in sight! Well, I was already drenched, so it didn't much matter to me. But if everypony was indoors, I'd have to go indoors too, and get somepony's floors all wet. Maybe there's a unicorn somewheres with a dryin' spell?

Grrrah! Part of me was gettin' real riled up with myself for doin' this at all. I'd be puttin' a real strain on myself to get this delivery done on time, now! And you better believe I had full intention of gettin' it done on time. No doubts about it, Barron Skyes does what he says he's goin' to do, and he does it on time!

... That's right. I do do everything I said I'd do, and I do it in time. That means I'm goin' to save this darned dragon, regardless of what my conscience tells me! Good sense wasn't never no good fer me anyhow.

With newfound gumption and quite a strong desire to get dry, I hitched my cart up in the stable next to the courthouse, and went on in. The courthouse exterior was largely brick and stone, simple in design, but the inside was anything but. The thing I noticed first was the big ol' fountain in the middle of the foyer; an oversize phoenix with wings outstretched, water spewing from below it in a bunch of directions, like it was risin' up from a fire made of water. Didn't quite make sense to me. The floor was polished marble, the walls were unpolished but the same. The air felt thick, and unhealthy. I didn't like this. Things weren't right in here. Somethin' was up. I looked up to the ceiling, where there were signs pointin' down various halls and up a wide flight of stairs. The sign pointin' to the left wing of the buildin' said "ADMINISTRATION, PUBLIC RELATIONS." I went down that way, as the other ones said "COURTROOM" and "OFFICES."

The hallway wasn't no better than the foyer. It was still real nice lookin' with marble and gold filigree, and not an absence of lighting. I could see out the windows, and it was still dreary and gray, but inside they had it so lit up it felt like a drought. Eventually the hallway turned right, and opened up to a smaller foyer of similar design to the first, with a simple fountain with various bird sculptures perched on the multiple tiers, as the water flowed between them, falling from the top, and eventually reaching each tier before hitting the bottom and being sucked back up to the top. This felt almost as pretentious as Canterlot, except I wasn't in Canterlot, I was in the valley, and there wasn't no reason for the valley to be this pretentious. It bothered me right bad.

At the other end of the secondary foyer, past the fountain, was a kiosk with a rather bored lookin' earth pony mare. She barely looked conscious. "Uhm, excuse me?" I tried.

"Excuse you?" She replied, looking up at me without bothering to lift her head from her forehooves. "Can I help you?"

Well, at least she was willin' to help. "Yeah, I was lookin' for the commissioner. Heard the dragon was bein' took through here, and I was hopin' to speak to him about it." Them kiosk ponies are bound to confideentiality laws, so I wasn't too worried about divulging too much info about my mission here.

She turned a couple pages in a binder she had on the desk with her. I couldn't rightly make out what was in the binder. "They're holding a court hearing on the matter right now. What was it you were hoping to tell him, and maybe I can relay the message for you?"

Nope. That wouldn't work. "Well you see, I ain't much got a message. I got about 50 pounds of gold here, and I was hopin' to bail out the dragon with it."

I'm pretty sure she fractured her jaw when it hit the floor. "B-b-but..." She stuttered, "50 pounds? As in solid gold? Where?"

Oh. Right. "Well, just outside, actually, in the stable. In my cart. Locked up, of course..." I think...

"Sir," she started, a fair bit more awake now. "You'd best bring that sum inside right now. I'll need to see some identification, too. There's rules and regulations on mass sum delivery round here, and without the proper permissions to carry all that, you'll have to stow it in a bank."

Oh, right! Well that did make sense, really. "I'll go get the box."

...

It took me a while but I managed to hoist the box up onto my back - after checking to make sure it still held its contents! - and carried it into the courthouse again. The sign outside, which I hadn't noticed the first time I'd come in, stated this was the "JUSTICE CENTER." Okay, whatever you say, hoss.

The earth pony mare in the kiosk was up and about in the room behind here, rifling through filing cabinets for something. I politely gave her some time to finish whatever it was she was doing.

"Oh-oh! You're back. I-uh, give me just a moment, here..." She stammered, and continued to search around for whatever. I set the box of gold down next to me and waited patiently.

A door to the right of the kiosk swung open suddenly, and a big burly lookin' security officer stepped out. He glanced at me, then trotted on up to the kiosk. "Shirley, they're finished in there. Go 'head and put together an after-action report for 'em."

The poor mare was frizzied about somethin' fierce by this point. "Wha? After-action report? But isn't that your job Crabbs?"

"Not if I'm goin' on break, it ain't." The security officer, Crabbs apparently, said, before stepping past me and leisurely strolling on down the hall, presumably to go take his break.

"Oh this is just not fair..." the mare whimpered to herself. Hayburgers and fries, was I sure glad I didn't have a desk job. I'd be dead within weeks.

"Hey uh, miss, listen," I grabbed her attention. "If you'll just point me in the direction of the courtroom, I'll go ahead and just say my piece to the commissioner, and we can do this paperwork thingie later."

She stared at me for a moment, as if I'd just suddenly appeared there and she'd never seen me before in her life, before snappin' out of her stupor and addressing me. "Um, sir, apparently the hearing is over. The commissioner will be heading on his route along with the caravan he came in on. They're probably already on their way out now."

This just keeps gettin' better an' better. "Well thanks anyhow!" I exclaimed before grabbin' my box and takin' off back down the hallway. Pretty sure I heard the Shirley mare shout something about identification, but I was already out the door and after my cart.

...

Box strapped back down and myself hitched back up, I took to the skies and in a northern direction. The rain hadn't let up, and it didn't feel no better neither. The courthouse - or Justice Center, according to the sign - quickly fell far behind me as I sped north, following the main road out of the town. It'd taken me some time to get everything strapped back down and hitched up, so I'd lost some valuable time! I'd have to catch up with the caravan, and I hadn't even spotted them yet!

I flew relatively low to the ground, on account of the rain obscuring my vision and makin' it darn near impossible to spot much of nothin' from up high. Technically, loaded pegasi are s'posed to fly at a much higher altitude than what I was at, but if I was up there, I'd likely fly right over them and never see them! So I kept followin' the road at about 20 feet up, carefully minding the occasional treetop or power line.

Eventually I finally found them! They'd gotten pretty far for such a short time. The hearing may have been over before I even got there. I quickly came down to the ground and came up behind the caravan, where the back wagon was carrying along a couple guards.

"Hey, pegasi deliveries aren't permitted to travel at ground level!" One of the guards shouted at me.

"What's the deal here? You need somethin' pal?" The other asked. The cart pullin' the dragon was on up about half a dozen wagons. This was one heck of a big caravan! They had him in this huge cage lookin' thing. I could see him through the bars, a mass of light red scales curled up real cramped.

"Hey, uh, the commissioner's on this caravan right? I got a bail for the dragon!" I hollered back over the sound of the wind and the rain and the racket of the caravan wagons.

The guards looked at me, then to each other, then back at the driver of the wagon. They were sayin' somethin' to one another, but I couldn't hear a thing over all the noise around me. Then one of the guards turned back to me and motioned for me to come closer. "I need to see some ID, first, buddy. Who exactly are you?" He said as I got close enough to speak without shoutin'.

Awful lot of folks want to see my identification today. "I'm Barron Skyes, courier out of Canterlot," I explained as I fished out my ID card from my bags. "I'm out here doin' an emergency grab 'n go for the gala comin' up, we're short a couple plates from Ponyville."

I hoofed the card along with my courier documentation up to the guard pony. "Well why ain't you headed to Ponyville, then?" He queried as he studied my various items of identification. He then hoofed them back with a nod of approval.

I nodded back to my cart. "I got with me about 50 pounds of gold. I intend to spend it as bail for the dragon."

The guards both asked me at the same time, "Are you serious?"

"Sure am! 50 pounds of gold for one dragon." Really, I was hopin' to get this done as soon as possible and get on my way to Ponyville. This was gettin' to be quite a tight run!

The guards didn't look too comfortable with what I'd told 'em. One of 'em turned back and spoke to the driver again. I just kept keepin' up with the caravan. Eventually he turned back round and addressed me again. "This is awfully late to try an' bail this fella out, friend. You're sure about this? I ain't sure the commissioner will accept your offer at this point. 50 pounds of gold, though..."

"Just tell me which wagon he's in," I said to them both. "And I'll speak to him myself."

"Eeh... Hang on a moment." One of them grabbed his radio off his belt and spoke into it. "Hey, we got a fella back here." He said to the device. A second later, it spoke back, with little in the way of actually discernible words. "No no, he's a courier. Says he's got bail for the prisoner, though." More garbled radio chatter. "50 pounds in gold, sir..." A moment of silence, then a quick expulsion of even more radio mess. The guard put his radio back, and looked to me. "Well, uh... They said you're fine to go on up. Second vehicle to the front. Don't mess with the prisoner, though."

"All right then! Thank ya, fellas!" I said to them both, then took off again and proceeded up along the side of the caravan. It was 9 'vehicles' in all, as the guard had called it. The one the dragon was in, the giant cage, was one of those new fangled self-movin' carrages, the sort what don't need to be pulled at all. Boy was that thing loud though! Sounded like a freight train!

The one in front of the automatic carrage was the second to the front, so I flew up next to it. It was a closed cabin wagon in black with bronze trim, sort you'd see somepony important ride round in. It had a guard sitting alongside the driver, but I couldn't see in through any of the windows. I got the attention of the guard.

"I was told to come up here to this here wagon. Y'all got the commissioner in there?" I asked him.

"Um, yeah." The guard said rather eloquently. He then knocked on the roof of the cabin - three times, I noticed. "You can talk through the window."

As he said that, one of the windows began to roll down, revealing a well-aged stallion with a coffee-colored coat and a grey mane. He had an eyepatch, and was wearing a suit. I got no clue what fashion is.

"What is it you want, courier?" The elderly pony asked me, not at all unpleasantly.

"Well, mister commissioner," I began.

"Please, you can call me Steven."

Steven? Ooookay. Never heard that name before. Must be foreign. "Well, Steven, I got with me this here box," I said, motioning to my cart behind me. "Inside said box is about 50 pounds of gold. Solid, untarnished gold. I'm here to bail out the dragon you've got back there."

Steven the commissioner pony stared at me blankly for a moment, a reaction I'd come to expect from folks I tell I got all this gold. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. A pretty deep laugh, that left him in a coughing fit. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small flask, and drank from it. I assumed it to be some kind of hard cider, maybe an apple whiskey. He put it away once he was done drinking. "Lemonade, if you were wonderin'," he told me. Well, now I knew. "Sorry 'bout that, now, uh... Why were you wantin' to free the dragon? You uh, realize he's a dragon right?"

All right, here goes! "Well sir," I began my little speech. "The reports of this here dragon attacking a town are entirely fabricated and wholely false," I stated in the most gentlepony-like voice I could muster. "You see, this here fellow you've got locked up is newly a grandfather. He was just flying up through Equestria to see his family and his new grandkid. There have been no losses in member, life, or construction whatsoever, and so there could not have been any sort of attack. I've been to both of the main settlements out here, and niether one is even a little damaged, burnt, or what have you. I implore you to free this gentleman, so he can go see his young'n." I took a breath, and wiped my brow. "How's that?"

The commissioner clopped his hoves together, nodding his head. "Well, you've got a fine journalist streak in you, I can tell you that much. Yes, you're correct, there were no casualties, and no damages of any kind, however, this may be out of my jurisdiction." He turned to his side and spoke to the pony sat next to him, whom I couldn't quite see. I was unable to listen in on their short discussion. I saw an exchange of hooves, and Steven brought out a thin folder with maybe 3 documents in it. "This here," he explained, pointing out the emblem on one of the documents, "Is straight from the top. Celestia herself ordered for this dragon to be sent north. Now, it ain't exactly fair to him, I know, but y'all gotta understand what's really going on here." He turned to the second document, which was covered header to footer in fine text. "This fella, the grandad drake, he's old. I mean real old, like mountains old. He's got a lot of history, and accordin' to the ones up top, he's been wanted for, well, apparently eons. Now I know that sounds about impossible, and I don't rightly agree with it myself, but a job is a job. Alla this on this here paper? It's all descriptions on crimes he's committed, supposedly, in centuries past." Steven let out a sigh, scratching the area where the eyepatch strap went just below his ear. "T'ain't right, I agree. Centuries ago is long enough I figure for somebody to live down their crimes. Celestia's just a hard judge."

Well... Gaul dang it! Yeah, t'ain't right! Not at all. But, that's Celestia's orders, apparently... And I got 50 pounds of gold! Wait... I got 50 pounds of gold! "So Steven, what was the commission for this here capture?" If I can outweigh the commission...

"Well, that's not exactly somethin' I can tell you, friend. I can say however, you've probably got more gold than that commission was worth. Honestly," he said, leaning out the window a bit, "It sort of seemed like this wasn't all that big of a deal for Celestia, really. But you didn't hear that from nopony, you hear?"

I nodded, understanding. There's a measure of somethin' like trust that goes along with dealin' with the law. It's like if two ponies have a gun and they both want the same thing, they can work together to get it, or one can prevent the other from succeedin'. Kinda like that. Power struggle between civilians and lawmen, in the way of politics.

"Well, I have 50 pounds of gold," I said, not hidin' the tiredness in my voice. It was gettin' pretty cold, and I was soaked to the bone, but I was determined to see this fella freed. "I figured that'd be around 10 grand, give or take."

Steven chuckled again, shaking his head. "50 pounds you say? Well, if'n it's genuine gold, y'all got more like 50 grand."

Sweet saltwater seahorses! "What am I goin' to do with 50 biggun's?!"

"Tell you what, we're makin' a stop at Canterlot so Celestia herself can see the prisoner," Steven explained. "But I figure if I showed her the sum you've got there, she'd be pretty well convinced folks don't agree to lockin' him up. That's an awful lot of gold, after all."

"Well shucks, take it then!" I said, motioning towards my cart.

"Now don't go bitin' the bit just yet. I ain't gonna need all of that." Steven knocked on the roof of the cabin, getting the attention of the guard pony. "Hey, mind getting the caravan stopped for a moment?"

Sure enough, the guard nodded, and went onto his radio, tellin' it what the commissioner had said. The radio chattered back incomprehensibly, and a moment later the caravan started to slow down to a stop.

...

Steven turned out to be a very influential pony, apparently coming from a family of top Canterlot elite. His word went about as law round the valley and much of the land outward. Ponies recognized him as an apparent hero, fightin' for property laws, commercial laws, and even cleanin' up police corruption out Manehattan way. Old colt's been around.

Steven stepped out of his wagon, big ol' tophat on his head nearly gettin' knocked off by the frame. Wind had picked up too, along with the rain, so even though he had somepony holdin' an umbrella over him, he was still gettin' wet. He came over to my cart, where I'd opened up the box full of gold. He inspected it, lookin' at a couple individual bars, then gave me a nod of approval. "That's gold all right. You've got a regular fortune on your hooves. And you're goin' to spend it to free this here dragon?"

"Yes sir," I confirmed. "I don't much got a use for any of it myself, an' I don't agree with what's bein' done to the dragon, so this is the decision I've made."
Steven nodded, stroking the stubbly beard on his chin. "Say, what office do you work out of, courier?"

"Oh, I'm Barron Skyes. I'm a freelance delivery pegasus out of Canterlot. The main Canterlot office is a little too skittish to take on the big deliveries, so I figured I'd pick up where they'd left untouched."

"Canterlot huh? When do you figure you'll be back up there?" Steven asked, pointing north-east towards Canterlot mountain.

"Well, I'm on a job right now actually, runnin' to grab some platters for the upcomin' gala. I have to be back by tomorrow, 'cause the gala is Saturday." Yeah, I really wasn't much 'on' the job right now...

"Dragon saving just happens t' be a hobby of yours then, I take it?" Steven jested.

"Haha, yeah, guess so." Definitely not getting any more distracted on this job. Can't afford it! You could afford it if you kept the gold for yourself, some ugly voice said inside my head. I quickly squashed that voice with an iron will. T'ain't nothin' more evil than selfishness.

"Well I tell you what," Steven began fishing out something from one of his coat pockets. "Here's my card. I figure we can stop at Canterlot for a while longer. You keep ahold of that gold, and come find me once you get back. We'll make a right fine case to the Princess, and I figure she'll be willin' to accept your offering. You said your name was Barron Skyes?"

"Yes sir," I affirmed as I accepted his card. It was a dark teal with gold lettering, saying "Steven Randall, Chief Auxiliary, Equestrian Administration Office" and a couple different numbers to contact him by. Steven Randall? By gum if that ain't about as wild of a name as can be. Sounds like somethin' a griffon would call themselves. Ponies don't usually have griffon names, but your name's your name, ain't it. "I been a courier for about a decade now. I'll take just about any job that the official offices won't." I told him.

"Hey, Cupcake," Steven said, calling for one of the other ponies. The pony who had been sat with him in the cabin of the wagon trotted up, quietly looking expectant. He was a young unicorn, had a light blue coat and a pink mane. "This here is Cupcake, my assistant. He's got the bright idea of tryin' to make it to my position someday. Cupcake, take a note here," Steven ordered his assistant, "Barron Skyes, a pegasus courier out of Canterlot fights for the freedom of an ancient dragon." Cupcake quickly took out a pen and a pad of paper, hiding under the umbrella as best he could as he quickly jotted down what Steven had said. "How's that sound? I'm sure it'll get you some more business if I get that put in the papers."

Well wait just one sock-sorded moment! In the papers? "Now, there ain't no need for that," I whinnied, not entirely sure if getting attention as a freedom fighter was the attention I needed. "I don't do this fer myself, see. I just don't approve of somebody bein' locked up for nothin'. Equestria's got enough worries as it is, what with the situation with foriegn affairs." I definitely don't think I'd enjoy gettin' hired for a bunch of rescue missions or chasin' after refugees, or whatever other variety of super hero job folks would figure me fit to do. Unlike Provolone Slim, I ain't no mercenary.

Steven chuckled again, this time taking care not to go at it too hard. "He sure ain't much like a Canterlot pony, is he?" He asked to nopony in particular. "I figure you're probably just going to get rid of the gold, then get on with your normal life, ain't you?"

"Well, I'd been plannin' on it, yes. So if I bring all the gold to you sometime Saturday, will that work? Tomorrow is lookin' real packed for time." That was an understatin'.

"Hmm," Steven pondered. "I suppose I can stick around Canterlot for the gala," he said with a wink, which kind of felt like he was jus' blinkin', 'cus he had that eyepatch. The tell-tale head bob gave it away though. For a moment I wanted to ask him how he'd lost that eye, but I quickly decided against it. T'ain't polite to ask a fella 'bout his war scars until you're good friends. Dad taught me that, said it had a real deep meanin' if you looked into it. I figured it was just about war scars.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, thinking of something I wanted to do. "Can I speak with the dragon, fer just a minute or two? I got a couple questions fer the fella."

Steven's brow rose a bit, in a sort of quizzical figure, then he turned to look towards the giant cage-mobile. "I don't see why not. Just uh, be careful of the snout. He's got a bad habit of puffin' smoke at ya."

...

The dragon was huge! He had to be ancient if he was this big. The cage-mobile took up the whole width of the road (and then some!) and it was at least 20 feet tall and maybe 50 feet long. And he took up all of that space! His tail lulled out one of the gaps between the bars, gaps which I noticed were big enough for a pony to fit through, but not even big enough for one of his huge paws. I came around to the back where I figured his head was, considerin' his tail was to the front. They had him strapped down too, in addition to bein' caged! He couldn't move nothin'.

As I came round to the back of the cage-mobile, the dragon watched me with one of his huge yellow eyes. The other eye, which was on the other side of his head, was pressed up against his shoulder, curled up as he was. It was still rainin' and I was startin' to not care, considerin' I was just about numb from head to tail. The dragon didn't seem to care either, even as rain drops fell directly onto his eye! I guess he's just that tough? I know I'd throw a right fit if a rain drop hit my eye.

A guard had come with me, to unlock the brace on the dragon's maw. As he did so, the dragon lifted his head as far as he could, openin' his mouth real wide an' wigglin' his jaw all around. Rows and rows of these huge dagger-like teeth, all the way to the back of his mouth... There's somethin' about that what jus' sets ya 'a shivverin'.

The guard stood by, a fair ways away from the dragon's mouth. I figured there wasn't much actual danger from gettin' bit as long as you wasn't in the cage with him, so I stood where I was, about 5 feet away from the back of the cage. Well, here goes! "Howdy there! I'm Barron Skyes, fastest cour-"

"I do not care who you are, pony." It felt like an earthquake! The giant lizard's voice was huge. Deep, rumbling and pretty gosh-darn loud! I wasn't sure if heard it as much as I'd felt it.

"Well, uhm, that's real fine, perfectly fine. I just hoped you'd answer a few questions I had." I didn't want to sound too terrified of the fella, but it was right difficult not to practically bow to him. "Hey uh, mister guard, mind givin' me some privacy with the drake?" It was goin' to be real awkward askin' the questions I was goin' to ask if there was a third party listenin' in.

The guard pony shrugged, set down the mouth brace, and trotted on back to the wagon in front.

Good, now I could speak freely. "All right, so I know y'all don't care who I am, but I'm gonna have to know who you are. It just ain't right to speak to someone without learnin' their name."

"I do not want to give you my name." The dragon rumbled. Fiddlesticks.

"Well, that's on you. Listen here. I'm bailin' you out of this mess, come Saturday. Y'all is a grandad now, right?" I figured family was a note that hit on all facets of life. "Y'all got a new grandkid to see, and there ain't no reason fer them to lock you up fer that."

The dragon just watched me with his massive eye.

"Anyway, I got some questions. Now I doubt they've told you much of nothin', but Equestria has been under attack from-"

"Changelings. Shape shifters." The dragon rumbled.

"Ayyup, changie-thingies. Well, everypony's a little tense 'cause of that, and apparently just today, the Canterlot library blew up. Now, the question I got for you is," I readied for what I was about to say. "What do you know about dark magic?"

The dragon's eye opened wide, then his brow came down in this real mean lookin' scowl. "Dark magic is a deep and ancient evil, pony." The dragon was actually speakin' pretty quietly now, I guess he figured out why I wanted the privacy. At least now I wouldn't have a miniature heart attack every time he spoke.

"Well I figured that. Look buddy, things is gettin' real wierd round here as of late, and I'd like to know as much as I can about what's goin' on."

The dragon huffed, a puff of smoke billowing out his nostrils. "Dark magic..." he began, "It works in a different manner than normal magic. It draws not from the energy of the user, but from the world itself. It devours and sucks the life out of everything. Then it uses that energy to corrupt the user, as the user uses it to do... Whatever they want to do. Dark magic is intrinsically evil in nature, and does not belong in this world. Ponies created it. Ponies use it. And it is for that reason that you will all bring the end of days."

Well... That was ominous. "End of days?" I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that.

"Beasts will break the walls, and the walls will come down," the drake explained cryptically, which explained nothing. "You're not the only ones with inherent magic."

I knew that. Every living thing was magical, it had to be in order to maintain... Harmony? Yeah, harmony. "What do you mean? Is this some sort of riddle?"

"You're the same as all the rest. You ponies never have cared about what's beyond yourselves. You'd be perfectly content if all the rest of the world went away, leaving just you lot to do as you please." The dragon did not sound like he was too fond of ponies. Considerin' the position he was in, it didn't seem too hard to understand why.

I still wasn't sure what dark magic was, though. "What did you mean, it corrupts the user?"

The dragon grumbled as he tried to adjust his position, to no avail. "It works one of two ways. Dark magic can feed off of the world, devouring the very spirit of the land, or it can feed off of life itself, devouring souls. Including the soul of the user. The result is a steady, if not abrupt, change in the user, where they eventually become possessed by the dark energies of the Void. For a dragon to use dark magic, they would surely bring forth all manner of dark and horrible misfortune to all the world."

Yyyup, I was not liking this.

"Your questions anger me, pony. It is not within your best interest to delve into these things. Do not make a mistake you may regret," the dragon warned me. Seemed like an awfully long way to say 'Be careful.'

"Well, I think I know jus' about all I want to know. You'll be seein' yer grandkid come the next couple of days, pal! Now come on, you gotta have a little joy in that big scaly body of yours." I figured bein' friendly was a good idea after bringin' up that topic. I was a whole lot colder than I'd been earlier...

The dragon grumbled, looking away from me for a moment. His eye then focused on me again as he said, "I have lived alone, away from my family for a century. They have all but disowned me for the horrible things I did in times past... I will not discuss what those deeds were, but they were necessary, regardless of their horror. Yes, this invitation to come see my newborn grandchild brings me great joy, for it is an opportunity to mend past relationships. I have learned many things from seeing the way you ponies work. Of all these things, I have seen how you lot thrive on each other. You maintain friendships, you bring one another together, and you protect the things that hold those friendships and relationships together. If only there were some means to teach that, to share the magic of friendship with my kind... Perhaps things would of been different, ages ago. Perhaps things could have gone a lot worse, too."

You know, when he spoke normally, the dragon almost sounded... Well, normal ain't the fairest way to put it, but it wasn't no ground-shatterin' rumble nor nothin', it was jus' a deep voice. "Well, I'm here to help you mend those broken relationships. 50 pounds worth of help, in solid gold, buddy. Y'all is got back up for days, I figure. And I ain't the only one who figures you ought to be freed. A lot of folks know you ain't done nothin wrong, at least not in so long that anybody it'd matter to - for the most part - is long gone. So jus' sit tight and keep an eye out for this guy," I said, pointin' to myself. "I'll be fightin' for your freedom!" I laughed, trying to make it clear I wasn't an egotistical, well, Canterlot pony.

"Within a few days?" He asked me, sounding almost hopeful.

"Yessir! Y'all is stoppin' at Canterlot to see the Princess, which is when me and the commissioner is gonna spring the gold on Her 'n see 'bout gettin' you freed." I was feelin' pretty good about this!

"Let us hope the Princess does not handle criminals in the same way she did in centuries past, or this will be a short visit."