> A Rich Everglow Adventure
>  by RadicalDishonesty
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> A Rich Equestrian Family
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	A light tan pony looked up at the building ahead of him. Barnyard Bargins, it proudly proclaimed. This town of Ponyville may have many fantastic stores. Sugarcube Corner, with it’s constant custom pastries, both delicious and good looking. Carousel Boutique, a dress shop whose owner was turning heads even in places like Canterlot and Manehattan.

Each of those places was special in their own way…

But Barnyard Bargins was special. It wasn’t just a store in Ponyville. It had been there right at the beginning. It had been his father’s. It had been his father’s father’s. It had been his father’s father’s father’s, even! It was a cornerstone of Ponyville, even though there were now stores in many cities around Equestria.

And it was his. Filthy Rich puffed out his chest in pride. Years of successful business sense and work built his store out to be one of the biggest chains in Equestria. It had history, it had prosperity. It was wonderful.

The sign labeled “open” flipped to “closed”, and a reddish pony stepped out, locking up. “Oh!” The pony coming out of the door reared back in shock. “M-M-Mister Rich? What are you doing here?”

Filthy looked down beneficently at his employee. “Just comin around to take a look after a long day.”

The employee breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh. That’s good.”

Filthy smiled. “You don’t have to worry, Russet. You’ve been doing good work and Bargains has been booming. There’s no reason to fear.”

Russet laughed bashfully. “I’m sorry, Mister Rich. The boss showing up unexpectedly is usually a bad sign.”

Filthy laughed right back. “I understand that. Head on home, Russet. Thanks for the good work.”

Hopping up and clopping his hooves together, Russet started trotting off, before turning back. “Have a good evening sir!”

Filthy Rich waved, but his smile turned wan as Russet walked away. ‘I hope I can have a good evening.’ He shook his head, disappointed in his own pessimism. ‘Get it together, Rich, he thought. This is your family you’re talking about. They may be going through a rough patch, but the worst is already over, I bet.’

He trotted on home.





By the time he got home, the sun was deep in the horizon. It cast a golden hue across his large estate, another sign of his family’s prestige and prosperity. He trotted in like he owned the place.

Because, you know...

On the inside he saw the familiar form of the light blue butler he had assigned to his daughter with a cart laden with confections.

“Ah, good evening, Randolph,” Fithy Rich said, loosening his tie.

Randolph closed his eyes in a nodded bow to greet Mister Rich.

“How are things going at the house?”

Randolph pursed, then bit his lower lip apprehensively.

“Not good, huh?”

Randolph sadly shook his head.

Filthy Rich sighed. “Is this cart for my daughter?”

A nod came as a reply.

Filthy Rich gestured to the cart. “Mind if I take it from here?”

This time a shake was the reply.

Filthy Rich stepped behind the cart. “Get some sleep, Randolph.”

Randolph bowed and hobbled out back to his quarters, and Filthy Rich pushed the cart to his daughter’s room, and knocked gently on the door. “Diamond Tiara? Are you awake?”

“Daddy?” a muffled voice came from inside the room.

Pushing the door open, Filthy Rich wheeled the cart into Diamond Tiara’s room, which was filled with fancy furniture, a huge bed stacked with pillows and a large dollhouse stacked with dolls in the corner of the room. All in pristine condition courtesy of the Riches’ staff.

And sitting right in the middle of those pillows was Diamond Tiara, sulking.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said, muffled by the pillows.

“Good evening, sweetie,” Filthy Rich replied. “Randolph passed me some treats to bring here.”

“Really?!” Diamond Tiara sat up quickly. Looking at her father’s raised eye, she blushed and sat herself back down. “I mean… that sounds… good. I might have… one.”

Filthy Rich gave Diamond Tiara a knowing look. “I certainly didn’t bring them here not to eat.”

Diamond Tiara squeaked in excitement. “Thank you, Daddy!” She hopped off her bed and fetched the nearest cupcake she could find, starting to eat it up.

Filthy Rich also grabbed a cupcake and took a bite. “So, sweetheart,” he said. “How have you been?”

 Diamond Tiara stopped mid bite, choking it down. “Everything is fine…” she managed.

“Are you sure?” Rich pressed. “Because I know that late night snacks from Randolph aren’t what happens when you’ve had a good day.”

She looked around hesitantly. “I didn’t win anything at the art show,” she mumbled quietly.

“Oh, sweetie,” Rich said. “But you worked so hard on your painting.”

“I’m sorry, daddy.” Diamond Tiara looked away.

“Now now,” Filthy Rich said, patting his daughter on her shoulder. “I know it’s a shame you didn’t win, but I thought it looked lovely anyway.”

“You’re… not mad?”

Filthy Rich smiled a broad smile. “Now why would I be? My daughter tried her best, and still produced something lovely.”

Diamond Tiara wiggled on her bed and looked away.

“Tell you what, how about I take you to the toy store tomorrow, and we pick out something to cheer you up.”

Diamond Tiara looked over to her opulent dollhouse… that had not been played with in weeks. She wiggled and looked away. Finally, Diamond Tiara spoke up. “It’s not just that… Mother didn’t see it that way,” she grumbled.

Filthy Rich pursed his lips and inwardly sighed. I don’t know what set this off but this has been getting worse. Hardly a week goes by without an argument.

“Now, Diamond Tiara,” he started. “You know your mother loves you and just wants what’s best for you, right?”

“She doesn’t know what’s best for me,” Diamond Tiara spat out. “She wanted to hire a professional painter to do the work for me!”

Filthy Rich pursed his lips. “I see.” He got up and started walking to the door. “Well, I’ll talk to her.”

A quiet voice came from behind him as he left. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He turned around and gave his daughter a quick smile before gently closing the door.





It was late enough that Filthy Rich’s wife, Spoiled Rich, would be preparing for bed, so Filthy Rich, after picking up a light dinner, also decided to turn in for the night.

He didn’t bother to knock, it was his room after all. It too was spotlessly clean, pristine and dusted by their cleaning staff, and in addition to that it was huge. The walls had beautiful paintings, the floor expensive rugs, and the bed was opulent as ever, and there was an extensive pair of walk-in-closets and a grand bath attached, but beyond that the room was bare of actual usable objects, and was a lot of very fancy space. His wife and walked in on the sight of his wife in a white robe, just exiting the bath, her face purple with her favorite lavender masque.

“Good evening, Spoiled,” he said, trotting up to her for a kiss.

Spoiled acquiesced with a quick peck on the lips. “Good evening, Rich.”

Removing his tie and collar, Filthy cast them into the clothes bin. “How was your day?”

She groaned. “Exhausting. The Zoning Board meeting was just awful, today. That Bon Bon is really starting to get on my nerves. A small-time candy shop owner does not have the authority to make the decisions she is demanding. Acting like she knows better than the Board about our planned expansions near to the Everfree forest. She’s standing in the way of our city’s growth!” She humphed. “Opening the board to the public to discuss the zoning changes is just a formality, Bon Bon should know that.”

Filthy Rich busied himself rinsing the pomade out of his hair while his wife complained about her day. Raising his head up, he spoke. “That does sound frustrating, dear. But I was wondering about Diamond Tiara.”

Groaning even louder, Spoiled Rich exaggeratedly rolled her eyes. “Don’t even get me started,” she said, as she got started. “The art show was finally today, and, like I expected, her mediocre painting didn’t win any prizes.”

Filthy Rich raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me… but I am not sure why it matters. It’s just an art show.”

Spoiled Rich groaned yet again. “How could it not? Your daughter has been losing the respect, losing the submissiveness of her classmates. If she really is a ‘leader’”—she produced airquotes with her hooves—“as she now claims her cutie mark indicates, she will need to wield authority among her classmates. Which she cannot do unless she proves she can do things they can not. Winning this competition would be an important step for her to showing her superiority over the normal ponies of this town.” Placing her hoof to her chest. “I offered to fetch her a skilled artist to help improve her work and push it over the top.”

That wasn’t quite what Diamond Tiara said… “And what would this… improvement involve, dear?”

“A comprehensive rundown of her work, of course, from the ground up.” She turned up her nose. “My carefully selected artist would help her choose a successful subject, composition, and make sure her technique was correct with careful guidance.”

“Honey, it sounds like the artist would be doing more work for it than Diamond Tiara would. That it’s everything but the artist actually painting the painting herself.”

Spoiled raised an eyebrow. “The artist would probably do the lion’s share of the brushstrokes.”

Filthy Rich groaned and put his hoof to his forehead. “Dear, that’s cheating.”

“Diamond Tiara would retain full creative control over the commission,” Spoiled Rich said and turned her nose up even further. “In fact, I would say my plan is a better showcase of her leadership talent as applied to an artistic medium than actually painting it herself.”

He pointed at his wife in an open, hoof gesture. “And that doesn’t make it not cheating.”

“Hmph. I should have known you”—she jabbed at Rich’s chest—"wouldn’t understand. Firstoff, it is only cheating if the ruling council can prove it. Secondoff, this is too important to her future to be worried about the rules!”

Filthy Rich held his hooves out in incredulity. “It’s just an art show!”

Placing her hooves in her lap, Spoiled glared at her husband. “It is a symbol of her success in her class. Unless your daughter can shape up, Filthy—”

Filthy Rich winced.

“Then this downward slope she is on will be unstoppable. She will fall to the depths of disrepute and could quite possibly stay there for the rest of her life.”

Filthy Rich paused and pursed his lips. “She’s your daughter too.”

Turning away from him his wife said, “No daughter of mine would be so senseless as to throw this opportunity away.” She turned off the lantern on her bed stand, and the room went dark. The conversation was over.

He could feel her lay down, and after his eyes adjusted it was clear she was facing away from him. Laying down as well, Rich looked over to his wife. Less than a foot away, but she might as well have been across the room.

Years ago it wasn’t like this. She was just getting into local politics, he was building his first stores out of town. The two of them were a team. They made plans. They relied on each other. They worked out conflicts with their plans. They built their influence, on the firm foundation of the Rich family reputation in Ponyville, to both be important pillars of the community in politics and business. And when Diamond Tiara came along, well, even though they were busy they both made time for her, trying to guide her the best way.

But now… his wife was a mystery to him. He didn’t know how she had been raising Diamond when he wasn’t around. And, to be frank, she was around Diamond much more than he was, even with local politics keeping her busy, because she never really had to travel to do it. Why is it so important to her that Diamond succeed at this?

And whatever it was was hurting both his Daughter and his relationship with his wife.

Filthy Rich sighed. He couldn’t make any progress like this, though. Not when Spoiled was sulking like this. He’d have to wait on it, address it later. Of course, he was going to be busy at work all the next day, and he’ll have to make time.

His family would get through it. The Riches always had before.
> A Rich Rainbow Teaparty
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Filthy Rich looked forward to throwing himself into his work the next day.

He had a lot to keep track of, even on days when he had no major decisions to make. Making sure the books were being handled by his army of accountants, ensuring deliveries and shipping lines were stable, and the lion’s share of his work, maintaining the variety of professional connections that made him one of the most trusted and well-liked businessmen in Equestria.

It was easy to keep his mind off his family with a full day of work.

Of course, today it isn’t quite so easy, Filthy Rich thought, as he watched the trees fly by. He set his chin on the train’s window sill. Starting the day off with work was hard when it started with a 3 hour train ride.

And business talk with his personal assistant, who was currently sitting across from his employer, biting his lip, couldn’t fill the whole three hours. Filthy Rich sighed. “Argyle, you clearly have something to say, what is it?”

“Forgive me if it’s… prying, sir, but you seem… very distracted. Are you going to be okay to deal with Miss Fillygree today?”

“Of course, Argyle. In fact, I’m looking forward to it!” Filthy Rich put his best winningest smile on, his dour expression evaporating immediately… before he let it fall again, as he rubbed his eyes. “Anything to get my mind off of my problems.”

Argyle shifted his eyes to the left and right. “Do you mind if… I ask what they are?”

Filthy Rich smiled inwardly. Argyle and he spent a lot of time together, and even though it was a strictly professional relationship, details about each other’s lives slipped through and he considered Argyle a friend as well. “I am having… an argument with my wife. We are disagreeing over how to best raise Diamond Tiara.”

Argyle nodded absently. “I… oh… Perhaps it could be helped by getting her into a good mood?” Argyle offered. “We’re on our way to Rainbow Falls right now, and I’ve heard it’s very romantic.”

Filthy Rich chuckled. “I’m not so sure this problem can be fixed with a romantic dinner, but thank you for your suggestion.”

Argyle tried to offer an encouraging smile. “I’m sure Mrs Rich will forgive you. From the way you make it sound, the two of you are very close.”

Filthy Rich looked out into the countryside again. “Well, maybe I simply haven’t noticed how distant we have become.”

They fell into silence again, as the train began to slow down. Finally, something to get my mind off of this.

Exiting the train station, he took in the beautiful view of the falls, trotting to his destination with his assistant in tow. “You know, maybe you’re onto something, Argyle,” Filthy mused aloud. “Maybe taking a bit of a sabbatical would be a good idea. Something to reconnect with Spoiled and help us to understand each other again.”

His assistant laughed. “That’s the Filthy Rich I know! Undaunted by adversity!”

He joined his assistant in laughter.

Reaching the restaurant, Filthy Rich parted ways with his assistant, who went on to handle other business in the town, as he was led to the private room on the balcony. It was looking over part of the falls itself. A beautiful view, a fantastic restaurant… It would be romantic, wouldn’t it?

But today it’s just a meeting for business, instead. So he sat down to wait, watching the rainbow falls, cascading beautifully over the rocks, with it’s vibrant red, orange, yellow, purple, green, and blue.

Wait… Filthy Rich took a double take. Yes, purple was there nestled between yellow and green, instead of where it belonged on the other end. His jaw opened as he stared at the errant color stripe. It wasn’t just one, either, as he started to look around, the falls were all disordered. Every single rainbow stripe had their colors in the wrong order.

There was a faint clinking on the table, catching Filthy Rich’s ear and eye. A fork was vibrating on his plate, and he clamped down on it with a hoof, stopping the vibration. Abruptly, the forks on every other table started clinking loudly.

In short order, there was a rumbling coming from the direction of the falls itself. They were gushing out at a volume Filthy had never seen, the rainbow spray shooting everywhere. A waiter ran by, struck by a bit of rainbow from the falls, and that little bit of rainbow flowed over the waiter, halting him in place, turning his colors into a rainbow mishmash as he slowed down to nothing. There was but a moment before Filthy started screaming, alongside everypony else in the restaurant.

Filthy Rich started pumping his legs, galloping out of the restaurant, as the spray continued to consume all the ponies struck by the spray of the falls. But, amazingly, he was not frozen in place as as he sped out of the restaurant.

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, turning around to look at the restaurant behind him, alongside a growing crowd of gawkers. Everything was… wrong. The border between the white fluffy clouds and the blue sky turned magenta and started bleeding into both. The restaurant was wobbling around. And of course… the falls gushing out into the restaurant itself.

There was a tremendous rumbling, before a huge blast of rainbow liquid erupted from the front door, petrifying a swath of the gathered crowd. The rest panicked and scattered, and Filthy Rich was no exception.

He pushed himself hard, his hooves beating on the ground as he sped at full speed. As he reached the edge of the falls, and almost to the escape that the nearby forest must represent, the sounds of the world died away.

… All the sounds of the world, actually, except for the gushing and rumbling sound. Filthy Rich chanced a look behind him, and uncomfortably close there was a huge gushing wave of liquid rainbow…

With the balcony that had the table Filthy Rich had been sitting at just a few minutes ago on top of it, and a large creature, made of multiple colored and mismatched limbs, on top riding it like a surfer would.

The wave lunged forward, crashing to the left of Filthy Rich, and surrounding him, but not actually reaching him on the ground, like the liquid rainbow was avoiding him, forming a large whirlpool with him at the center, still on dry ground. The balcony flowed around and settled down in front of him, the creature appearing to be seated at one of the seats at his table.

The creature beckoned him over. Filthy Rich took a step closer, and the rainbow whirlpool moved a foot closer alongside him. Getting a better look at the figure on the table explained everything that was going on, though.

“Discord!” Filthy Rich called out. “What are you doing?!” he yelled, trying to put some force into his voice, despite that he just watched the entire town get flooded and petrified. He stomped up onto the platform.

An unfamiliar but distinctly male voice came from the figure ahead of him. “I’m afraid you have me confused for… someone else.”

Filthy Rich took a moment to actually look at the figure… and while it had many similiarites to Discord… the hunched form, the mismatched limbs, a brown grey head… it was also very different. Instead of a deranged (or smug) smirk, this creature’s head practically looked like a skull, with a large sinister grin. The limbs were wrong, too, with a huge red minotaur like arm instead of the lion’s paw, and some kind of duck foot.

And even then… that everything was… knobbier. The arms were splotchier. The hair was coarser. He was just… a bit less smooth. Filthy Rich shuddered as he noticed more and more details. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. You can do this. He opened his eyes anew, trying to give direct eye contact to the horizontal pupils and skull-like visage of the creature seated at the table.

The grin on the creature stretched wider. “You may have noticed that I’m from out of town.” He gestured to the seat across from him. “Take a seat, Mister Rich.”

Rich did as he was asked, but followed it up with, “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mister…”

“You may call me Mister Tacit.” He picked up a teacup. “Won’t you join me for tea?”

Lifting the teacup, Filthy Rich placed it at his mouth… and no tea poured into his mouth. In fact, the tea didn’t move at all, as it was a solid block stuck in his teacup. Across the table, Tacit bit into the side of his cup, loudly crunching as he chewed both it and the solid tea.

Instead, he picked up his fork and went to cut himself a piece of the spongy tea cake in front of him. As soon as his fork touched the cake, however, it lost all of it’s consistency as the tea cake turned into a smooth liquid, neatly filling up the small plate it was placed on.

So instead instead, Filthy Rich looked up at his… host? “To what do we owe the… pleasure of this visit?”

His mouth still full, Tacit said, “I’ve been looking for a good excuse to visit, but I couldn’t really find one, so I just decided to come anyway.” He gulped loudly. “And what am I to find but a forlorn businesspony sulking in a beautiful resort? Did your date stand you up?”

Filthy Rich pursed his lips. “I was waiting for a business contact.”

“You certainly seemed forlorn for somepony just going out for some business. Are you sure you’re not having any mare problems?” He pointed at Filthy Rich and waggled his finger. “I’m usually so good at guessing that sort of thing.”

Filthy Rich gritted his teeth. “I assure you whether or not I’m having any marital problems, it is none of your business.”

“Nonsense!” Tacit said. “This is a land of ugh, Harmony--” He spat the world as if it were a curse “-- isn’t it? Why would a handsome young stallion like yourself possibly have an argument with his wife? That sort of thing should be fixed posthaste.”

“Well sometimes problems are---” Filthy Rich started to protest, before Tacit reached out a red finger, and poked a hole in… the air beside him. Dragging it down, a blue hole appeared, and he plunged his muscular red arm deep into it, fishing around.

His grin widened once more, and he yanked his arm back out, to reveal Spoiled Rich. He sat her down in the seat next to Filthy Rich. “There we go, the whole happy family!”

Spoiled Rich blinked after she was set down. “What… What is going on?!” she practically screamed.

Looking across from her, only one explanation jumped out: “Discord! You just wait until Princess Twilight hears about your behavior! You’ll be back in stone faster than you can say ‘Elements of Harmony!’”

Tacit raised an eyebrow, somehow his solid-seeming skull face easily contorting. “I must meet this Discord. He seems like the right kind of fellow. But no, I am not he.”

Spoiled Rich turned up her nose. “Well, Discord or not, I definitely don’t have to sit around for this.” She stood up and started marching away from, eyes closed.

Her shoulder was grabbed roughly by a hoof. “No!” Filthy Rich shouted, as he pulled her away from the edge of the rainbow liquid.

She made a very outraged noise. “Filthy! What is the meaning of this.”

Casting a quick glance at Tacit, he pulled his wife down to his head conspiratorially. “Don’t touch the rainbows!” he hissed. “When you do… something happens to you and you are frozen in place. And we’re surrounded by it.”

His wife looked around, finally taking in the scene around her, from the mismatched sky forming bizarre magenta and blue swirls, and the veritable lake of liquid rainbow swirling around the small balcony in the center of it all. “What in the devil is going on?” she hissed back.

“The rainbow fluid doesn’t actually petrify people,” Tacit added, whispering to them from up close. “It simply slows them down quite a bit. All of this has happened in less than a second, to them.”

“Well, that hardly sounds be---AAHHHH.” Spoiled Rich screamed as Tacit’s large skull like face had suddenly appeared as part of their huddle merely inches away from her and Filthy Rich’s. They both reared back, scampering a few feet away from the interloper.

Tacit rose back up, and floated his way back to his seat. “Now. Please take a seat.” For the first time, his face didn’t look like it was smiling with glee. “It’s very rude to not accept the generosity of your guests. These are very hard seats to get reservations for, after all. All that red tape that I had to get through.”

Filthy and Spoiled Rich gave each other worried looks, and they went back down and sat at their respective seats.

The rictus reappeared on Tacit’s face. “Excellent. So” --He rested an elbow on the table-- ”I hear there is trouble in paradise.”

A nasty look was sent Filthy’s way from Spoiled, but Filthy Rich held his composure. “We were having a minor disagreement on how to raise our daughter, isn’t that right dear?”

Spoiled Rich looked at Filthy suspiciously, but looked back to Tacit with her best comforting smile. “That’s right. These kinds of arguments happen from time to time, but I’m sure that he’ll both go back to realizing which of us is correct in time.”

Filthy Rich had to stop himself from screaming ‘You’re really doing this NOW?!’ Instead he put on a smile. “She’s right. The two of us are just havin’ a little bump. Nothing to be worried about.”

“Oh, but I can practically feel the stress between the two of you, and I am just sure I have the solution to all of your problems,” Tacit said, from behind his usual grin. “A romantic secluded getaway!” he announced, splaying his arms high into the air.

There was a scoff from Filthy Rich’s side. “Absolutely not,” Spoiled Rich said. “We just cannot jaunt off randomly. Elections are practically around the corner for the Ponyville council.”

Filthy Rich nodded. “Absolutely. And I have my business to think about. Not to mention,” he said pointedly. “We have our daughter to consider.”

A nod came from Spoiled. “Absolutely. We cannot leave her in such a state as she is now, fragile and uncertain.”

“Oh come now,” Tacit said. “Surely you can see the draw of having some time together, with no distractions to come between the two of you? Just the two of you versus the world! Getting to know each other like the good old days! Wouldn’t it be grand? Surely your daughter could stay with family friends, or some relatives”

Spoiled and Filthy Rich shared a look and a slight nod. “I’m afraid we are going to have to be firm on this, Mister Tacit,” Filthy Rich said, firmly planting his foot on the table for emphasis. “We absolutely must decline.”

Tacit’s crazed grin fell. After he picked it back up off the ground and replaced it on his face, it was a somber frown. “Is there really nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“Absolutely not,” Spoiled Rich said.

Tacit gave a huge melodramatic sigh. “Well… too bad.”

He snapped his fingers and the three of them blinked out of existence.
> A Rich Everglow Beach
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Everything went suddenly dark. Filthy Rich tried to scream, but no noise came out, and a very very strange feeling came over him. He felt the wind knocked out of him, like he collided with something violently, but there was no actual physical pain accompanying it. There was, however, a faint tingle at the tip of his snout, and it crept down from his snout to his tail.

As suddenly as there was no light, there was light. He was laying on his back, staring up at a dull blue sky. He was also vaguely sore. Grunting on the ground, he shifted about, feeling sand beneath him. The air smelled faintly of salty water.

He brought his hooves up to rub his eyes, but something was… wrong. He bent his wrist, and a bit of his leg about twice as long as he expected bent. His stomach churned as he moved his foreleg, taking in the new bumps, the new coarseness. It was like Tacit.

Wrenching himself up, he took in the new landscape around him. He was on a rocky beach, the sky was cloudy and dim. The kind of weather the weather team around Ponyville usually avoided, since it wasn’t actual rain, nor was it clear and beautiful. It was just sorta dank and dismal.

Also, laying beside him, was a familiar pink pony. But, like himself, she was different. Looking like this made clear the sheer difference in proportions from their current forms. Their barrels were slimmer, their snouts more pronounced, and their legs were lankier.

She was holding her hooves out in front of her, staring at them, breathing heavily.

“Sweetheart…” Filthy Rich started, pleased to hear at least his voice hadn’t changed at all.

“A romantic secluded getaway, was that it, Fil?” Spoiled said, closing her eyes and laying her hooves down.

“Well… that’s what Tacit—that creature—said…”

“And what exactly were you doing there with that creature?” she spat, turning to look at Filthy Rich, her eyes boring into him.

“... He appeared when I was waiting for Fillygree, and then he… attacked the falls.”

Spoiled rolled her eyes. “I gathered, but he obviously wasn’t attacking you. He was having tea with you.”

Filthy Rich narrowed his eyes. “... What are you trying to say, Spoiled?”

She got up, not struggling at all with her slightly new form, and stomped up to Filthy Rich. “I’m saying that something like that does not just choose somepony to have tea with ‘at random’. You—" she poked him in his chest “—must have done something to attract his attention!”

“He was some kind of super-powerful Discord monster!” Filthy Rich hissed. “If you’re looking for reasons he would single me out, you will find them sorely lacking!”

“Oh, and I’m sure he just accidentally decided to take me out of my lunch and bring me to you, hm?”

“W-well...  yes. Yes!” Filthy Rich pulled himself to his hooves. “He guessed I was having an issue with my wife, and pulled you out from wherever you were.”

“I can’t believe you’d be so forthcoming about something like that!” Spoiled shouted. “That is our private business, and you have no right to go sharing that with any old mysterious strangers.”

“Wh- What?! That’s not what I said. I said that he guessed and on that guess summoned you.”

“Oh come off it!” Spoiled stomped closer to Filthy Rich. “What possible reason could he have to guess something like that, unless you were moping around about it!”

Filthy Rich contorted his own face into a scowl. “And I already told you that looking for an explanation with a godlike chaos monster is folly! He probably would have thrown out any old excuse if it was going to intrude on somepony's life!”

“Oh, of course!” Spoiled Rich shouted, getting up in her husband’s face. “The completely and totally random happenstance of us getting into an argument one night, then a chaos beast getting it into his head that sending us ‘somewhere else’ to work out our issues is a good idea! Definitely just a total coincidence isn’t it, Filthy?!” she finished, screaming at that point.

Rearing back to launch into his own diatribe, there was a loud snapping sound from the south, and both of the Riches twisted their heads to the sound, glaring at the intrusion. There was a line of foliage that faded into a forest, and there was another crunch and snapping sound, and a large aquamarine pony stepped out.

 Not just a large pony, she was huge! She was as large as the princesses! She was also wearing very intricate pale pink-orange armor that appeared to be made out of huge seashells shaped into fins, connected with shining blue strings that formed a lattice, holding the armor in place. And her head… instead of a pair of ears, she had a set of fins that wrapped around her entire forehead. They could even make out gills on her neck. Clearly this was a pony of the sea.

The Riches both looked quickly the opposite direction from the oncoming huge pony. Sure enough, on the other side was the sea, with some kind of very simple sledlike boat, constructed of similar style as the large ponies armor, pushed up on the beach that the two Riches.

Looking back and quickly giving each other a fearful look, they glanced back at the pony, only to hear more clinking and shuffling, as she was being followed by an entourage of normal sized ponies, all of them some shade of blue or green, each wearing (significantly less well made and ornate) armor, mostly in dull greens instead of the brilliant coral of the large pony's armor. And many of them had obvious spears and tridents strapped to the side of their armor.

The Riches glanced back forth between each other and the large pony and, with nods, a truce was immediately struck. The two of them straightened themselves out quickly. Filthy Rich stood up and took point, marching to meet the aquatic party.

“Hello,” he called out from a safe distance. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The large pony barked something unintelligible to the other ponies. Several darted forward and menacingly pointed their tridents in Filthy Rich’s direction. The rest kept filling out a circle between around the Riches.

“Now,” Filthy Rich said trying to stay composed. “There’s no reason to be hasty. We’re just some… passing travelers who don’t know where they are.”

The large pony just recited more words.

“This is impossible,” Spoiled Rich said. “They don’t even speak our language.”

From behind the line, Filthy Rich heard a bark of laughter. “You probably should have run while you had the chance, strangers.”

The huge pony shouted something back behind her, stepping out of the way to reveal yet another seapony, except this one wasn’t armored. This seafoam green pony was clothed in a mixture of slick red form fitting garments and latticework, but she was also shackled around her ankles, and had a choker with a rope leading to one of the other smaller guards.

She gave the Riches a wry grin, before the guard tugged on her rope, yanking her head down. “Ow! Jeez, you don’t have to yank like—” the guard tugged again, causing the prisoner to yelp.

The large seapony said something else in a commanding tone, and the guard led the prisoner aside her. She recited a speech in an unfamiliar language, clearly announcing something.

There was a pause, and the prisoner said, “Yeah, she says that you’re coming with her.”

The large seapony gave a glare to her prisoner, and the guard attending her poked her in the side with his spear.

“Ow! Alright, alright.” She cleared her throat, arched her back, stood straight up, and announced in a clear tone, “The two of you are officially being reclaimed by The Deep Queen.”

Spoiled Rich, whose scowl had been deepening, loudly burst out with. “Reclaimed?! We have never seen this pony in our lives.”

At her outburst, several guards shifted closer, menacing them with their spears and tridents. Filthy stepped closer to his wife, gritting his teeth. Better to look fierce than frightented.

“Yeah, the quee—” The prisoner started, but almost immediately received a nasty look from The Deep Queen, and cleared her throat. “Her Majesty has come to reclaim the land. As you are on the land, she is officially reclaiming, well… you two.”

The Riches both opened their mouths to protest, but the circle of armed ponies all set themselves in more menacing stances, and the two of them shrank back down.

“Yeah, like I said, you really should have run when you had the chance,” the prisoner said, offering a sympathetic smile look to the couple.

The Deep Queen gave her prisoner another angry look, causing the prisoner to shrink away slightly and grin sheepishly. The Deep Queen snorted, but directed her entourage to start linking the same kind of cuffs on the Riches that were on her prisoner.

Once they were both securely cuffed up, the Deep Queen barked some more orders to her entourage, and the Riches were led onto the sea-sled, along with the prisoner pony, who was sat across from them. The sea ponies then all filed into the sea, a couple of them being hitched to the sled, and they started to swim out to sea.
> A Rich Sea Ride
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The sled heaved up over yet another wave, the sea slapping loudly against its hull as it slammed back down on the water. Two of the passengers stumbled and collapsed into a pile with each other. Spoiled Rich pushed up off of her husband with a humph, moving over to sit across the sled from him, glaring at her husband, flicking her gaze to the third pony. The truce appeared to be only maintained due to the mixed company.

Filthy Rich didn’t know whether to be relieved at not having to argue with her now, or anxious that this might mean more arguments later. He suppressed a grunt, and turned his own eyes on the other passenger.

The aquamarine seapony, clad in red, was giving the couple a half dubious half amused look, still seeming… not very distressed from the situation.

But, she was the only source of potential information, so Filthy Rich tried to strike up a conversation. He sighed theatrically. “Well, seeing as we’re stuck here for now, I suppose introductions are in order.” He proffered a hoof. “I’m Filthy Rich, and this is my wife Spoiled Rich.”

The seapony let out a guffaw, earning a piercing glare from Spoiled. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just…” She bit her lip looking between the two of them, then cleared her throat. “Nevermind. I’m Dawn Crest.” She put her hoof out and bumped it against Filthy Rich’s. “Nice to meet you, Filthy,” she said, with a faint accent Filthy Rich couldn’t place.

Filthy Rich pursed his lips to stop himself from frowning. “Please, call me Rich.”

Dawn Crest flicked an ear and raised an eyebrow, grinning. “But then how would you know if I’m talking to you or your wife?”

“Filthy Rich, then.”

“Mmmmh, I dunno,” Dawn said. “Filthy really rolls off the tongue, you know?”

He winced, and almost snapped at her, but instead he silently reminded himself that this is the only pony who might know anything about what’s going on. “Well, anyway, we were just caught out on the beach… why were you caught by… The Deep Queen?”

Dawn groaned and slouched, crossing her arms. “Queen Busybody won’t let any of ‘her’--” Filthy Rich could hear the airquotes “-- subjects go to the land except on official business.”

Filthy Rich tried a shot in the dark. “And you wanted to see the land for yourself?”

“Yeeees,” Dawn said, gesturing to him. “Finally, somepony gets it. Everypony else is just like ‘you must be nuts wanting to go against the queen’ and ‘you were born in the sea, why would you want to go onto the land.’

She looked up at the sky. “But I don’t want to just stay underwater forever.” She raised her chained her hooves to the sky. “Not that I know this is up here! Just look at this place! There’s so much stuff here. So many new things!”

She let herself thump back down on the deck of the sled. “And now they’ve got me again and are draggin’ me home again.”

“Speaking of that…” Filthy Rich segued into his main point. “You are being taken home but… we were just abducted from a random beach we found ourselves on. What is going to happen to us?”

She put her hoof to her chin and hummed. “I’m not exactly sure. Normally we’d go to the underwater city but… you can’t breathe underwater, can you? I heard land ponies don’t even have things like that.”

“Earth ponies,” Filthy Rich tapped his hooves on the ground. “Cannot breathe underwater, no.”

She chuckled. “You’re like reverse fish, you know?” she sat up from her slump. “Anyway, I dunno what’s gonna happen to you. I’m not exactly sure why she took you.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

From the back of the boat, there was a sharp rap, as Spoiled slammed her hoof down. “I suppose it’s just like a fun vacation that’s been ended, for you, isn’t it?” She stood up. “You are only going to be dragged back home, where you will, presumably, resume the life you had before.”

“Hey--” Dawn Crest started to protest but was cut off.

“Meanwhile we have been kidnapped by a type of pony that we have never seen before and are being dragged across the ocean to Celestia knows where”-- She stomped over to Crest-- “we were told we have been claimed by a mysterious queen like we are objects--” She leaned over Dawn Crest’s face, her voice dripping with venom “--and the only pony that might help us is acting like this is a daily occurrence.”

Spoiled jumped just a little with a start, as a hoof gently landed on her shoulder. She turned back, glaring daggers at her husband, whose stern expression did not waver. Allowing herself to be guided back a step, her husband stepped closer to Dawn.

“My wife has a point,” Filthy Rich said. “We are in a place of extreme uncertainty, and you have been… flippant, about it.”

“It’s not like this is a walk in the park for me either,” Dawn grumbled. “The Deep Queen is not fun to live under. If you’re not training to be an invader, you’re helping prepare for it, and she’s been accelerating her timescale.” She sighed. “And I have no idea what’s going to be done to punish me for leaving. It’s just…” She shrugged. “At this point we can’t do anything. We’re stuck here.”

Spoiled gestured to the wide open sea. “They haven’t even left any guards above the surface! How is it we can do exactly nothing?!”

Dawn Crest gestured to the sea. “You wanna go into the water? Be my guest.” She jangled the chains, demonstrating they don’t allow for them to spread their hooves very far. “Good luck outswimming the eight guards and the Queen. You probably couldn’t even do it without the shackles, much less with.”

“But… they’re not watching us at all! There must be something we can do to escape!” Spoiled protested.

“Well, do you have any ideas?” Crest said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well… no.”

Crest settled back down. “Then it doesn’t matter, we’re still stuck and can’t do anything. So there’s no point in getting worked up about it.”

The three of them settled into silence. Filthy Rich looked out over the sea. It was a murky blue, matching the dour looking sky. A pegasus team would be disgraced to allow the weather to get so dour.

But… most likely there are no pegasus teams for this sea, here. He looked down at his hoof, bending at the wrong place and gnarled in a way that was unfamiliar. This was clearly not Equestria, and he was a pony but… some kind of different pony.

He glanced over at his wife. She was a mess, as was he. Her mane unkempt, her coat was frazzled and dirty, although it was the same color as usual before. But, of course, the biggest difference was… the basic shape of her body. Something around her shoulders was… different. Like her shoulders had an extra joint and raised higher. And the face… The small snout he always knew her to have, that only got smaller as she grew older was gone, her whole face seeming squarer, and the natural curvature of her face and jaw were more pronounced.

Her eyes were also smaller, smaller than even small ponies eyes. The effect was less unnerving as before, but this was not the wife he knew.

He chuckled mirthlessly. As if he knew his wife very well, anymore.

He sat down his head to wait for anything to happen, staring out at the dark blue sea.









The sun had traveled across the sky and well on it’s way down when the trio of prisoners spotted their destination. As they had traveled, the frequency of small rocks and islands increased, a few other islands looming in the distance, until they spotted what was bound to be their destination. A sizable remote island was ahead of them. It’s coast was rocky, but the top clearly had enough foliage to support it’s own ecosystem.

But, far more important than the size of the island, was the rock and wood compound built out into one of the caves, extending to a few simple buildings that were erected on soil instead of on rock, and with some surrounding area clearcut.

“What is this place?” Filthy Rich asked.

“I… I don’t know,” Crest admitted. “I had no idea we had a base aboveground like this.”

“Just how long were you gone?”

“It was only a month or two.”

Spoiled Rich looked over the work and scoffed. “She must be hiding it. This is considerably more than a couple months of work.”

Dawn Crest bit her lip. “Yeah…”

The sea sled made it to a crude water gate. It was less like a fancy portcullis and more like a swinging wooden sluice. Two dark shadows drifted through the water to the edge of the gate, and it swung out slowly. The sled was pulled into the cave, settling in by a dock, where the guards pulling the sled were able to walk straight out of the water, pulling the sled into the dock.

They were ushered out at speartip off the dock and through the compound. The compound was directly into the cave, and looked like it was a natural series of caves that had been widened and reinforced with wood.

The lead pony lit a torch, but it only provided a very small amount of light as they trudged down the halls. The only sound was clinking, both of the sea ponies’ armor and the prisoners’ shackles. There was just enough light to see the flags hung on the walls every so often with a coat of arms on them, showing a seapony half-submerged in water with spears and tridents surrounding it, as well as unlit torches along the walls.

The three prisoners were led through a large opening to a large wooden cage. The three of them were ushered in, and the gate was closed and a the guard said nothing as he locked the distinctly metal lock, lit one of the torches in the wall, and left, leaving the three of them alone, still shackled around their ankles.

Fortunately, there were soft looking leafy green piles on the ground, and they even looked fresh, so Spoiled Rich took a pile for herself and plopped down. Filthy Rich spared her a look, but started taking in the room as well as he could in the dim light.

Next to the cages he was in were other cages. Multiple other cages. In the dim light it looked like there were at least six other large cages, large enough to fit five or six ponies comfortably.

“There’s so many cages… What could they be for?” Filthy Rich mused.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Spoiled Rich’s voice called out from behind him, loud enough to be heard but haggard. He looked to her and she jangled her chains. “With these we won’t be making any swift movements… and the large entryway? The huge pens? The fact that the Queen said she claimed us.”

Filthy Rich’s blood ran cold as he pieced it together, but Spoiled Rich finished the thought anyway. “These are slave pens,” she spat. “Of which we are the first.”

Filthy Rich whipped around to Dawn Crest. “Dawn, tell me that your people don’t keep slaves.” 

She wasn’t looking at him.

He grabbed her shoulder roughly and shook her. “This is important.” 

She turned around slowly, and for the first time, Dawn Crest was not either smiling or even indifferent. Her face was uncertain. “We… we don’t.”

Filthy Rich knew there was more to this. “... But?”

Dawn Crest swallowed hard. “But we used to. Centuries ago… but--but we used to only use lesser creatures for slavery,” she protested, trying to convince herself as much as the others. “Ponies could not hold ponies as slaves.”

“No…” Filthy Rich stepped back, grasping his forehead. “This can’t be… this can’t…” he stumbled back and hit up against the wooden cage. He whirled around in a rage, striking it with his two hooves with full force. The cage wobbled with a dull sound, but he didn’t even put a dent in the wooden bar. With a roar, he slammed his hooves against it again and again, as the entire cage wobbled… but making no progress. The wood was supple and pliable, but this only meant that none of his strikes actually made any progress to splintering or breaking it.

He panted heavily, glanced around the dimly lit cage, and found his wife staring at him. He locked eyes with his wife briefly, and in the dim light he couldn’t tell what her expression was. It wasn’t one of anger, not anymore… but he couldn't read her. She looked away.

Filthy Rich fell down on the ground, slumping down, his frustration burnt out.

The message was clear, and he plodded over to the cage and sat down right next to his wife, snuggled up against her, taking in the simple pleasure of the tactile closeness to his wife. After the day they had… it was welcome, even if he couldn’t be sure of anything else, at least his wife was with him.

He laid down his head, when something. “Oh no…” he whispered.

A groan came from his wife. “What now?”

“... What about Diamond Tiara?”

He could feel her tense up next to him. “She… she must be doing better than we are,” Spoiled Rich whispered. “She is still at home, and she still has the staff.”

Filthy Rich paused. “I hope you’re right.”







Argyle Note huffed deeply as he stared at the manor’s door. He hadn’t been nervous to knock on a door for years now, ever since he was a young man first interviewing or asking out a pretty filly.

But he had never actually had to bring news like this before, so a new kind of confrontation means new anxiety. Great.

He knocked on the door, and nary a few seconds later, one of the Rich’s staff opened the door. He was a blue butler stallion, somewhere in the middle ages, and he stood with the grace that Argyle expected from the Rich’s staff. He didn’t remember this one’s name, but he smiled anyway. “Good evening.”

“Good evening, Mister Argyle--”

Argyle inwardly winced as the butler whose name he could not remember remembered his.

“--How may I help you this evening?”

“Is Spoiled Rich in? I need to speak with her.”

The butler faltered, his expressionless face betraying uncertainty. “I’m afraid not, you see--”

There was a loud sound of hooffalls from behind the butler as something scampered behind him, approaching the door. “Daddy? Daddy is that--” A pink young filly shoved him aside, stopping suddenly as her eager face fell. “You’re… Daddy’s assistant.”

Argyle nodded. “That’s right. Is your mother home?”

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. “Mother wasn’t here when I got home from school.”

Confused, Argyle looked to the butler, who nodded. “She never returned from her luncheon this afternoon.”

Argyle pursed his lips together. That wasn’t good.

Diamond Tiara pointed an accusatory hoof at Argyle. “She’s not here, so where is my father!”

Argyle grimaced. “He… he’s been missing since lunchtime.”

The butler and Diamond Tiara were both taken aback. “Wh-what?” she blurted out. “Daddy’s missing?!”

Argyle tried to explain. “Well, we were at the falls for a business meeting and… the falls started gushing forth… and when they touched you...” he shuddered a little at the intense chaotic memory, the rainbow sensory overload as the rainbow water rapidly rushed over the grounds, and  the sensation that he was just about to drown right before the water drained as rapidly as it came.

He spared them the details. “When the… incident, ended, your father, Filthy Rich, was nowhere to be found.” He gulped as he delivered the hardest to swallow bit of information. “And he’s the only pony missing.”

Diamond Tiara was gaping at Argyle. She blurt out laughing. “You… you’re joking. You must be joking. This is a terrible joke being played on me by my mother and father, right? They can’t both have gone missing?”

“Diamond…”

“No! Tell me you are joking,” she demanded. “Tell me!”

He gave a look to the butler, who seemed troubled himself. “I’m… I’m afraid I am not. Filthy Rich is missing.”

Diamond Tiara plopped down, clutching her head with her hooves. “No… no…” she collapsed down and started sobbing.

Argyle tentatively put a hoof on her shoulder, but she had no reaction to it. “Can… is there any family she can call.”

The butler bit his lip. “I… don’t think there’s anypony that would come on such short notice.”

Argyle frowned. “Well… do you think she’ll be fine here… I guess it’s hardly alone but... “ He looked down at the quietly sobbing filly at his feet. “I have to get back to my family… I came here first, what if I came around again in the morning?”
> A Rich Island Workday
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A terrible clanging came with the morning. Filthy Rich winced and groaned from his place on the floor. Bleary eyed he looked around at the dim light, his eyes already as accustomed as they were going to be. There was another round of clanging, followed by someone barking orders in a language Filthy Rich understood.

From another angle, there was a higher pitched version of the other language that moaned something. There was a brief back and forth, and the clanging resumed.

What was the racket about? Filthy Rich thought. He pulled up his head and looked around bleary eyed in the dim right, taking in the wooden cage he was in, catching a glimpse of a sea pony guard, holding an extra piece of armor with a metal rod to bang around inside of it.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, no.

There was another clanging, closer to the cell this time, followed by more foreign (or, perhaps, native) language barking. Filthy Rich nudged his wife and wrenched himself up off the ground, hearing a few pops in his spine. “I’m up… I’m up.”

Dawn Crest gestured to the Riches sleeping spot, saying something in the language they could not understand. The guard pursed his lips, appeared to make a decision, and said, “Up.”

“I’m getting up,” Spoiled Rich said as she wrenched herself up. “It’s not like a pile of seaweed is a particularly nice bed, you know.”

“Work to-day,” the guard barked in what was now clearly a thick accent. “Up.”

The three slaves in the pen all stood up and had a variety of stretches, while the guard fished out a key, unlocking their pen. “Follow,” he commanded, and started leading them out.

The three of them followed out of the pen. Trotting up closer to Dawn, Filthy Rich whispered. “Why is his equish so much worse than yours?”

“Equish?”

Filthy Rich gave her a look. “The language we’re speaking now?”

“Oh!” she cried out, earning a suspicious cock of the ear from the guard ahead of them, and she lowered her voice to a whisper again. “I thought the land language was called ‘common’. I speak it better because I used to hang out with the ponies that came from the land.” She gestured at the guard in front of her with her eyes. “I’m surprised he speaks it at all.”

Examining his captor, Filthy Rich said, “Do you think we can take him?”

“The three of us?” Dawn Crest raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I bet we could…”

“We should not,” Spoiled Rich butted in, poking her head between the two of them. “We are in a strange compound, miles from any known place, surrounded by guards. We might beat this one guard… and for what? To be recaptured by the other guards? We still even have our chains on.”

Filthy Rich pursed his lips. “Right, right…”

The three of them focused on the guard in front of them, walking forward, apparently oblivious to the conversation his prisoners were having.

Filthy Rich nodded. “Then we watch?”

Spoiled Rich nodded as well. “We watch. And we hope they’re all as dense as this stallion.”

The guard led them through the dim corridors and out into a larger hall, with a large opening from the cave into a cleared field outside, with cut logs, shaped stones and various building materials. Beyond that there were temporary looking huts with a few sea ponies who were garbed in less metal and more rugged practical clothing milling about.

The guard called out to them, and a yellow one trotted over. They carried on a short conversation in the sea pony language. The worker pony looked over the three chained ponies dubiously. The guard said something flippant and Dawn Crest scrunched up her face in a scowl.

Spoiled Rich leaned over to her and whispered. “What are they saying?”

“The worker is complaining we would be more trouble than we are worth,” Dawn hissed.

“Maybe they won’t want to work us…”

Dawn shook her head. “The guard is insisting that he puts us to work anyway.”

The worker pony snorted, but stamped over to the three slaves, and motioned to them. “Follow.” He led them over to a nearby set of logs, and they displayed varying levels of dismay as he fished out several harnesses.

The worker pony bellowed something out and several other workers came around to the set of ponies. As he talked about… something it became obvious this pony was a foreman in the yard as he was clearly directing the action.

Dawn Crest was pulled aside, and several workers approached the Riches. Spoiled Rich scowled and backed up as a worker approached her with a filthy harness. “You must be joking.” The workers shouted at her, and pointed to a patch of ground. Spoiled Rich cringed and shook her head.

Yelling louder, one of the other workers stomped over to the slaves, and reached for Spoiled. Grabbing her, he yanked her roughly on her shoulder.

“Hey!” Filthy Rich reached over, batting the worker’s arm away. Filthy Rich forced himself between Spoiled and the worker. “Do not treat my wife--”

He didn’t get any further, because a hoof came crashing into his jaw. He reeled back, colliding with his wife right behind him, who was also knocked back onto her knees. 

Even before he could get up, he was wrenched off of his wife and dragged into the clearing. The worker leaned down up close to Filthy’s face. His breath smelled briny, and he very clearly enunciated several threatening words.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” Filthy stammered. “I can’t--”

He was cut off by a cuff to the face, and a shouted command. The worker began stalking around Filthy Rich, talking alternately to the slaves and to the other workers, gesturing as he circled Filthy. It must have been a very moving speech, because the other workers, who looked nervous, started nodding their heads 

Filthy Rich raised his head up to look and see how Spoiled and Dawn were taking it, and was rewarded by a swift kick to his gut. He doubled over in pain, and was vaguely aware of more ranting from the worker.

When he finally managed to peer out, his wife, a fearful instead of scornful expression on her face, was cringing as the filthy harness was strapped to her. She gave a glance to Filthy Rich and pursed her lips, before reluctantly stepping forward when they gestured to her.

He felt a light touch to his shoulder, and looked over to see Dawn Crest. “Come on,” she  whispered. “They’re already getting out more harnesses.”

Grunting, he wrenched himself up to a sitting position. He nudged his vaguely sore jaw, which ached a bit from the blow to it. “Right… right… what was his speech about?”

She pursed her lips. “About how the ponies on the land need to be shown their place.”

“Wonderful…” But what about you, he thought. You aren’t a land pony… But he said nothing.

He started standing up as he watched his wife’s harness be hitched up to an empty cart, which a worker pony planted himself on, and ordered a march. She planted her hooves in the ground and started pulling them along, deeper into the island.

A stern shout alerted Dawn and Filthy that they were expected to be strapped in next. Filthy stood himself up, his jaw and gut only dull aches by now, and marched over, holding his head as high as he could. The worker rolled his eyes and roughly strapped another harness on it.

It didn’t fit well. It was loose in some areas, and was uncomfortably tight in others, but Filthy tried to hide his discomfort. It wouldn’t do any good to show them his weakness. He too was hitched up to a cart, which was filled with not one but two ponies, and ordered to pull it further into the island.



	

As expected, the harness pulled in awkward ways. Filthy had to force his shoulders forward because the straps around his barrel and hips barely worked, and if he didn’t the harness would press on his neck. So, shackled so his legs couldn’t move too far apart, and hitched up to a wagon awkwardly, Filthy Rich awkwardly plodded through the wooded area.

A stinging strike came on his back. Filthy Rich cried out, and looked back to find one of the workers had snapped off a pliant branch from one of the surrounding trees, and was holding it in her mouth. She gestured and mumbled something Filthy wouldn’t have been able to understand her words, and had no chance through the switch in her mouth, but the message was clear. Move faster.

Filthy Rich pumped his legs, which was not easy as the ground was soft and loamy, but shortly he was panting with effort, his cheeks red both with effort and with embarrassment about being swatted about with a switch.

He chanced a look forward, hoping that his wife’s cart, smaller than his and only with one passenger, was going better than he was. It looks like the worker in her cart hadn’t had the bright idea to start whipping her, so at least that had some relief. He looked back to find that Dawn was also pulling a cart, but this one had a pony walking beside her.

Because she is not a land pony, Filthy Rich thought. they are going easy on her. He grunted to himself, but redoubled his efforts.



At the work site, at least, they stood around watching the workers as the workers used axes to cut logs. Obviously, they would not be trusted with any bladed instruments, which means, blessedly, there was nothing for them to do and they were unhitched from the carts and allowed to rest.

Filthy Rich edged over to his wife, hoping the workers weren’t in the mood to stop them from talking. “How are you holding up?”

She furrowed her brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Filthy Rich chuckled. “Maybe.”

They settled into silence, watching the workers chop the trees and load them up onto the logs. “I notice…” Spoiled Rich gestured to the carts, which Dawn Crest was watching her cart with her back to the couple. “That Dawn’s cart has already been pushed away, even though it is barely loaded.”

“Earlier… the worker who attacked me was apparently ranting about how we land ponies need to ‘know our place’.”

A familiar scowl appeared on Spoiled Rich’s face. “They’re going easy on her.”

Filthy Rich nodded.

She snorted in reply. “I wonder how long they’re going to keep her here with us before letting her go?” She glared daggers into Dawn Crest’s back. “It’s clear she’s not going to be staying here for very long. She’ll be abandoning us to them very shortly.”

Filthy Rich bit his lip. He wanted to defend Dawn Crest, but if she were given the option to leave, there is no reason why she should stay here with the two of them, strangers she barely knew. “I’m not sure…” 

There was an order barked from a worker who was stomping over to them, ready to start heading back.



Filthy’s legs and shoulders burned on the way back from the logging area. He drove his hoof into the soft ground, which shifted underhoof as he struggled forward against the soft soil. Any false moves resulted in the harness pressing on his neck, or him getting tangled up in the chains on his forehooves.

His driver didn’t let up, either, swatting his backside whenever he would stumble or stop to adjust his pulling. He swore he could see her sadistic grin, even though he dare not look back for fear of getting yet another swap. 

All he could do was struggle against the soil, the cart, and his harness.



The day was filled with work. Cart pulling, with welcome, but boring, periods of rest between them. But when the sun started disappearing below the horizon, the three slaves were led back to their pen.

Filthy Rich flopped down on the leafy patch. It was probably dirty, and so was he, but he relished the opportunity to sit and take a rest. He ached so. And he knew it was going to get worse overnight, and the next day his legs would be burning.

His stomach made a noise, and he was suddenly very aware of his hunger, having only eaten some scraps the workers threw to them from their midday meals. Fortunately… or unfortunately, one of the guards came up with a tray of some kind on his back.

He reached in and placed wooden bowls filled with… some sort of leafy slop, that was only harder to identify in the dim light. It emitted the awful acrid smell of some kind of overripe or overcooked vegetable. Filthy Rich’s stomach and nose warred for dominance, but eventually the biological need of eating won over and he dove his nose into the slop, lapping it up.

It tasted about as bad as it smelled, slightly bitter, salty, but hearty taste. It stuck to the bottom of his belly and filled it up, so he slopped it up messily with his tongue, trying to at least get full.

After about as much as he could stand in one he surveyed his companions, as Spoiled Rich lapped at hers tentatively, screwing up her face in displeasure before she forced more down her throat. Dawn Crest, however, appeared to be eating it at a morose pace, not cringing in the least bit, but looking as dour as anyone here.

As they ate, though, a flickering light came down the hallway to them. Before them stood the Deep Queen, flanked by more highly-ornate guards, looking stern as ever. She marched over straight past the Riches to the part of the cage nearest to Dawn Crest, and she boomed with some kind of command.

Dawn Crest looked up to the queen with a pitiful expression, muttering something quietly.

The Deep Queen leaned over to Dawn, hissing something.

Dawn frowned, but looked up into the Deep Queen’s eyes, not saying anything.

The Queen raised herself back up, her speech softening for the first time Filthy Rich had heard. Dawn continued to not respond, so the Queen continued to say things, and it took Filthy Rich a moment to realize Dawn was being gently lectured by the leader of her civilization.

He imagined what it would be like being lectured by Princess Celestia. Of course, he couldn’t understand what the Deep Queen was saying, but it was probably far less positive than Celestia would be.

Dawn, for her part, was playing the same abashed part he felt like he would be in the face of Celestia very well.

The Deep Queen concluded her speech by presenting what was clearly a fruit to Dawn Crest, who let it drop to the ground next to her, staring at it.

The Deep Queen and her entourage left, and Spoiled Rich inched over to her husband. “You see,” she whispered. “She is probably being told how this is a warning to what would happen to her if she ‘stays the course’ of cavorting with us. Then she was given a gift. It won’t be two or three days until the offer is made to let Dawn out. And she’ll jump on--”

“How old do you think Dawn is, Spoiled?” Filthy mused, interrupting his wife. “I thought she must have been an adult, but do you think she might still be a teenager?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she hissed.

He gestured over to the sea pony, who was forlornly poking at the fruit she was offered. “She’s just a filly, Spoiled, going through what we’re going through.”

“She,” she hissed, a little too loudly, before lowering her voice. “Is being given a free ride, compared to us, and is going to shortly be leaving us to the mercy of the captors.”

“If you could take on less work, would you? If you had the opportunity to leave?” Filthy Rich said.

Spoiled Rich pursed her lips and looked away.

“It’s not like she has the secret keys to let us free, either, Spoiled.” He laid a hoof on his wife’s shoulder. “She’s not our enemy. The other sea ponies are. Kindness doesn’t cost you anything.”

Spoiled Rich shrugged off his hoof, looking back into his eyes. “If she leaves and joins their civilization again, she will be our enemy. She will be part of them.” With that, she walked away and sat on a nearby seaweed bed, leaving Filthy Rich on his bed alone.

He sighed and pushed the pungent bowl far away from him, laying down.

Across the cell, Dawn Gleam’s ear twitched, after making out the mostly clear words of her currently co-slaves that carried in the still, quiet cave, huffed to herself and laid her head down.
> A Rich Difficult Chore
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Filthy Rich tossed and turned in the night. His back was unaccustomed to the rough ground, his coat was unaccustomed to the leafy bedding, but probably most importantly of all, his legs were unaccustomed to the aching burning sensation all night.
Stirring himself awake, he pulled himself up and noticed that it wasn’t just his legs. It was his shoulders, thighs, and back. He could not recall ever having a full body ache as bad as this.
Instead, he settled into sitting up instead of standing. Rotating his neck, he looked over the two others in his cell, watching them both get up and stretch in turn. Spoiled Rich rubbed her shoulders and groaned, while Dawn Crest still laid down, nudging the still uneaten fruit.
The clinking of armor echoed down the hallway, signaling the approach of the morning guards. More of the leafy gruel in wooden bowls was thrust through the bars, and Filthy Rich set himself to finishing it off. It might have been his imagination, but it didn’t seem quite as foul today.
When he finished his bowl, there was a loud wooden clattering, as the guard banged some kind of club on the bars. Looking over, Dawn was glaring at him with a pout. Her bowl was still full.
The guard kicked at the fruit dropped in the cage, knocking it around, and he shouted something in their language at Dawn, who winced, but didn’t break her glare. He leaned up close and hissed something quietly to her, his voice venomous. Her resolve wavered as she visibly swallowed, and he pointed again to the gruel she had not touched, taunting her in some way.
She remained silent, glaring, but leaned down and started to lap up the gruel, and the guard rose up with a sneer, spitting a single word, and stepping back, turning his attention to the other two denizens of the cell. He barked an order at them, and while the words were unclear, the intent to not stare was, and both Filthy and Spoiled Rich looked away.
After a few minutes of slurping, the guard looked satisfied, and called out something ahead of him, out of the large hall they were in, pulling a key from his ring and unlocking the cell. He barked more orders, ushering the three slaves out, leading them through the dark tunnels of the compound.
Filthy Rich’s legs were stiff and ached. They begged for him to take it easy, but he could not. He couldn’t explain it to his captors (not directly, anyway) and they wouldn’t let him stop anyway. But it was alright. He had been around the bend before. He pulled carts for his father, before he was running the store. He’s helped out on the Apples’ farm to get ‘toughened up’. Sure, he sorta hated it at the time, but now he looked back on it fondly.
He wondered if there was a way to look back at this day fondly… If there would be that opportunity anymore. He scowled, purging the negative thought from his mind. It was no time to get negative.
They were led through the series of rights and lefts to the working yard, where the morning workers had already awoken, and the cart from yesterday was unloaded, the hitches were laid by some of the lumber, ready to be transported. The mare from yesterday, a dark blue seapony, was standing by one of the hitches, and grinned a sadistic grin when she saw Filthy Rich come around the bend, motioning to the guard to bring him over to her.
Filthy Rich suppressed a scowl and walked over to her, and she promptly gestured for him to turn around and strapped a bridle and harness onto him. She was talking, but Filthy Rich couldn’t even really parse what she was saying. Maybe she was describing what they were going to do for the day?
After hitching him up, she slapped his back with a laugh, and he cringed under the sting of her hoof. She smirked at his wince, but left him be, and instead moved back behind him, sliding out a bundle of lumber and hooking it up to his harness. 
Picking up the switch with her mouth, she said just one recognizable word: “March.”
And Filthy Rich marched. The harness pulled taught, and his legs burnt like the dickens, and the bundle of lumber started sliding forward slowly. Filthy Rich took a deeper breath, and planted one foot in front of the other, focusing on staying stable and pulling consistently. There was no way he would be able to get through this otherwise.
He plodded forward, his legs aching with the pressure, but staying stable, as he pulled the bundle of lumber along. He was aware of the mare in his peripheral vision, walking alongside him with the switch in her mouth, but he determinedly ignored her. No good will come from it.
Eventually he reached another cleared area, where the mare said, in the common language, “Stop.” She gestured him to turn back, and he looked across the lot at the stacks of lumber yet to be delivered. It was a lot of lumber, and the girls were being diverted to other tasks. He swallowed hard, and marched back over as instructed.




 
Three bundles later, his legs felt more like wet noodles. He knew they hurt, he could dimly feel it, but at this point they were more numb than anything else. He flopped down on the ground, trying to get some much-needed rest, but not even thirty seconds later his handler was yelling at him, brandishing the switch.
Oh he wanted to tell her to go stuff herself. He wanted to lash out, to yell and scream. But… it wouldn’t accomplish anything. It would just make it harder on himself to fight back. She had brandished the switch several times already today, but only to scare him, and he would rather keep it that way. So, cringing, he planted his hooves on the ground and forced himself up, his legs protesting the whole time.
He stumbled over onto the hitching ground, and turned himself around. His legs trembled underneath him, but he was determined to fight through it. He felt the hitches on, and heard the command from his handler, and started straining himself forward.
A hoofstep came, but the bundle refused to budge, he gave a look behind him. It wasn’t even a larger bundle than before or anything, so he should be able to pull... The mare barked an order and brandished her switch.
He reared back a little, dug his hooves into the ground and lurched forward with all his might. A lance of sharp pain launched up his left arm, and he buckled underneath it, his chest awkwardly slamming on the ground. Another bark of an order came from the mare, and the switch came down on his back. 
Everything went white as he cried out from the pain. His hind legs gave up and he collapsed onto the ground, twisting one leg underneath his body. He opened his eyes, and saw nothing but brown and green patches, with a big blue blotch as the sky. A darker blue blotch moved across his vision, getting larger. He heard muffled words from above him, but they meant nothing to him.
He knew another strike was coming if he didn’t get up soon, so he got one hoof underneath himself, pushing up best he could, then moved over to get the hoof trapped under his body out, steadying it. Pressing it against the ground rewarded him with a sharp lance of pain in his wrist, as he collapsed down on the ground.
The dark blue blotch yelled something at him, and another sharp pain lanced through his back with the distant sound of a crack, and his eyes rolled up into his head, and everything went black.
> A Rich Shackled Planner
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spoiled Rich plodded along, one hoof after another, pulling the, rather frankly, easy to pull tools. She scowled to herself. Even if it was easy work, it was beneath her. She was no common packhorse. She was Spoiled Rich. She didn’t spend her entire life securing the wealth she enjoyed to be forced into manual labor. It was demeaning.

But, she knew if she displayed any of the contempt she had for these cretins that were in charge, her good fortune in being allowed to plod along at a comfortable pace could come to an end. They would become suspicious or angry, and she would not be allowed to pace herself any longer, instead being forced at whatever ridiculous pace they felt was appropriate.

So she plodded along, face free of scowls and contemptuous glares. Instead, she watched as she worked. There were only ten workers on the lot. Four mares and six stallions. But at least two other workers came in at intervals. Obviously there were also guards, the guard that fed them at night and the one that came to fetch them was different, and she spotted a third one while she was working, so that’s at least three, but she knew she shouldn’t count on that being an accurate count. 

None of them stayed on the working lot, and the clinking around her legs reminded her of why. The shackles prevented Filthy and her from running, and they probably expected them to stop fights as well. Not to mention with the workers they were hopelessly outnumbered.

Her ears twitched, trying to lay back on her head, but she would have none of that. There was fortune, too. It was a simple operation. It looked like there was no clear chain of command, except for the queen. If she was lucky, communication was bad between teams, so if one disappeared or was late the others would think nothing of it. The guard did not seem expected, either, so they might not be ready to receive any amount of people.

She couldn’t stop herself from snorting. If it was humiliating being captured by these rubes, it was double humiliating knowing that they ran their operation sloppily. They must have hardly known what they were doing! And yet they built a cage and shackles and hoped that was enough.

She hardened her visage. It wouldn’t be.

Making her way back to the main lot, there was a particular lack of her husband. The planks she saw him being hitched up too were being pulled by two other ponies. Hmph. And they had just him pulling them before? Awful.

But that didn’t solve the question of where he went to…

However, she did spot Dawn Crest. Being allowed to take a break by some other workers. Spoiled suppressed another snarl. Because of course she was just taking a break. But Spoiled knew she needed to have a word with Dawn, because nopony else would have an answer as to where her husband is.

She watched the pony that was handling her out of the side of her eye. He was a pale tan color with equally pale green hair. He was clearly rather low on the totem pole, because he would supplicate himself before most of the other workers. He was even taller than most of them, and solidly built. But he still was clearly their social inferior. He interacted with them like he was on the verge of panic all the time, and would laugh ‘disarmingly’ all the time, trying to seem nonthreatening. How pathetic.

But, it explained why he wasn’t pushing her very hard. And it meant… 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him be approached by one of the older worker ponies. She made sure she was out of the view of her handler, and the other pony wasn’t watching her either, and slunk off in Dawn’s direction. She knew better than to act like she was sneaking, though. That would be obvious. No, just go as if she were asked. Even though she was not.

“Dawn,” she hailed as she approached.

The seafoam green seapony looked to her, her eyes widening in shock. “It’s… you. Shouldn’t you not be here?”

Spoiled smirked a smarmy smirk. “I got a moment to myself.”

Dawn stared off into space for a moment, shook her head and looked at Spoiled. “Okay. What do you want?”

“Do you know where my husband is?”

Ears poking up, Dawn tapped a hoof on the ground in a bit of thought. “I’m… not sure.”

Spoiled Rich pursed her lips. “He was pulling lumber here just a while ago.”

“Right… right… I’ll go ask,” Dawn said, trotting directly over to one of the other workers. When she engaged him in conversation, he seemed polite. He didn’t scowl or shout.

Spoiled Rich narrowed her eyes. Who was this girl? Was this just because she was another sea pony? Or was there more to this?

Halfway through her conversation, Dawn Crest’s eyes widened in shock. She practically plodded back. Swallowing hard, “Filthy Rich collapsed earlier today.”

Spoiled Rich’s heart skipped a beat. “... Where is he now?”

“They’ve taken him back to the cells. It looks like it was mostly exhaustion.”

Spoiled let out the breath she was holding. “Oh.” She blinked, connecting a dot. “What do you mean mostly?”

Letting out a huff of air, Dawn said, “He was being whipped for not being able to keep up with the work as he was almost collapsing of exhaustion.”

Spoiled Rich stared off into the distance. “I see.”

Dawn Gleam blinked, and leaned over into Spoiled Rich’s vision, giving her a confused look.

Shifting her gaze to Dawn, Spoiled set her jaw and glared at her. “What?”

With a dubious displeased look on her face, Dawn took a step back. “Nothing, I guess.”

“That’s what I thought,” Spoiled nearly spat. “I need to get back to my handler before he notices.” She turned about face and started striding off.

“Sure…” Dawn trailed off, watching Spoiled stamp away.





Her handler--who needed a nickname. Lad. Lad is fine--Lad was none the wiser when she came back. Apparently he had been looking for her, but upon seeing her, apparently assumed he misplaced her somehow, and simply ushered her back to work.

He really was a rube. But he was a rube that had control over her. He wasn't the one in chains, and he was the one commanding her, not the other way around. And she was getting it easy, compared to Filthy…

She was sent to go pull small bits of construction supplies, little bits of iron and coral that were no doubt used to assemble the lumber, while the workers proper pulled the larger slats of lumber. The repetitive work gave Spoiled more free time to think.

There were so many obstacles. A dozen workers. Who knows how many guards. Stuck on an island. And of course, she remembered as she tried to extend her hooves more than a few feet apart, these damnable chains. They’d be doing every single thing without being able to run, or reach for things high without standing on two hooves.

And after what happened to Filthy, waiting might not have been an option. Were things going to get better… or worse? She didn’t want to take that chance.







Sand Castle looked out over the work yard, trees clearcut and such, and sighed. Volunteering for a special secret project for the Queen seemed considerably more exciting before the day to day drudgery set in. Especially since it was day to day drudgery far away from civilization.

He sighed. He knew he shouldn’t complain about it. Some of the other guys here had to take these jobs to support their families, but once he got back, he’d both prove that he is a loyal and skilled worker for the Queen and on easy street with the money he’s making. He would be a big deal.

Even if he has the crappy jobs for now, he’ll move beyond it soon enough.

Looking over, he spotted his charge, too. That was something else he was uncomfortable with. The prisoners they were working. Driver had made a very convincing argument before, that they would have to understand that the people on the land were just as much the Queen’s subjects as they were, but they were separated by so many generations they forgot. And they needed to understand that.

And, look at them. Both naked. They couldn’t be particularly civilized, either.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The logic made sense to him. The Queen was, after all, the Queen. Not only was she of the royal family, she was chosen by destiny to lead the sea ponies to the land again, reclaiming what was once theirs. Her stature made that clear.

But actually seeing the ponies working for them? It still felt wrong.

And the fact that Dawn Crest was among the prisoners…

There was a loudish call from the field he was looking over. He opened his eyes, to see his charge calling out to him. Setting himself up from the tree, he walked over to her.

She apparently had managed to get the chains her forelegs were in tangled around in a bush. Thoroughly tangled, too. He wasn’t actually sure how she did it, as he attempted to figure out how to disentangle the chains. They just weren’t getting out.

About the only way he could figure it is if the chains were removed and unlooped. So he set out to the forepony’s office.

On the way, he passed the another coworker of his, who was looking at a box of tools, and he hailed her. “Hey! I have a question.”

She didn’t turn to look at Sand Castle. “What is it, Castle?” she said.

“Which key is to the prisoner’s cuffs?”

She didn’t look up from him her tools. “It’s the key with the shell on it on the third key ring.”

“Alright, thanks!” he said, trotting off.

Arriving at the forepony, Driver,’s hut, he quickly found the key ring with the shell key. Fortunately it was the only one. He hoofed it back to the lot he was working at, with the mare in his care still stuck.

He dragged up the sparse commands that he remembered from the brief language lessons. Putting on his best stern face, he pointed down and delivered the foreign command for stay.

She set her jaw and gave him a sardonic look, but she stepped back and stood still. he  unlocked both of her hooves, and started looping the chain out of the bush it was in. Somehow it had been basically knotted around the stem. How could this ha--

“What is this?!”

Castle froze in place at the voice of Driver. Behind him he heard a thump and a feminine shriek. He twirled around to find Driver, along with a couple other workers, including the one he asked for the key earlier, behind him, one of them having clearly struck the pony that was working under him.

“D-Driver, I can explain.” Castle stumbled to his feet, leaving the chain still looped around the bush.

“This oughtta be good,” the mare accompanying him said.

Driver rotated his hoof as if to say, “Go on.”

Stepping aside to reveal the chain and the bush, Sand Castle gestured to it. “She managed to get her chain stuck around the bush here, so I took them off to untangle the loops.”

“And how do you think she got her chain caught?”

Sand Castle rubbed the back of his head. “I… I dunno. It’s pretty tangled.”

Driver stamped up to Sand Castle, causing him to shrink under his superior’s gaze, even though he towered over his superior.

Practically slamming his foot into Sand Castle’s chest, Driver spat, “She deliberately tangled them, so that you would unlock her chains.”

Sand Castle widened his eyes in shock.

“Oh, now it dawns on him,” Driver said in mock surprise. “Only after he unlocked her.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Sand Castle flushed red. “She’s just one pony.”

“We don’t know what she is able to do,” Driver leaned over Castle, “That’s the problem.”

“W-what was I supposed to do?”  Castle grumbled.

Driver gestured behind Castle “Cut the bush, then!” He leaned over Castle and growled, “Or just go get someone else who knows what to do, if you don’t.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Castle said, thoroughly cowed. “I’ll make sure to do that in the future.”

Driver whipped around back to facing his prisoner. “Don’t bother. I am relieving you of her. Someone else will deal with it.” He looked back. “Finish extracting the chains, though.” He stomped back to the prisoner, giving her a rough prod forward, and barked the order to move in the other language.

Sand Castle turned back to the tangle of branches and chain links, sighing and getting back to work.





As she was led out roughly by the practical entourage that came with the boss of the yard, her shoulder still stung from the strike she received as they arrived. Her handler was clearly not going to be her handler anymore. After her stunt with the chains she knew she will be on a tighter leash, she will be more closely watched and probably worked harder.

The forepony peeled off, saying something to one of the other ponies escorting her, and approached a hut, which was only large enough to probably be an office.

Before the door closed, she watched him loop the key with the shell pattern on the top on the third key ring away from the door.

She permitted herself a smirk. At least the plan worked.
> A Filthy Equestrian Slave
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laughter. That’s the first thing Filthy Rich heard. A wild cackle, coming from behind him. He opened his eyes to see a clear field, with soft loamy soil underneath him, stretching out forever. The sky blue and pure.

The laughter stopped and there was a snap of a whip behind him, and he knew he had to press forward. So press forward he did. As he stepped, his hooves sank in the loam, and each step they sunk a little more. The laughter resumed, a sinister chuckle to begin with, but as he sank it got louder with each step.

Eventually he was down to his knees, and he was hardly able to step at all, and he chanced a look back. The mare was there, laughing uproariously, but as soon as he twisted his head she shrieked and the whip came down on his back, and he cried out in pain.

He turned back forward, trying to take more steps. Beside him, on either side, were Spoiled Rich and Dawn Crest, both pulling small carts, not sinking into the soil like he was. He called out, and both looked back. Dawn Crest gave him a sad look and looked away trotting slowly, but Spoiled Rich lingered a moment. She turned up her nose, looking down it at him, as she scowled. He knew she was not happy, he knew she was disgusted with his failure, and she turned away, trotting away from him, her nose upturned.

He kept plodding forward, attempting to chase the two of them, and as he stepped, the sky changed. The color cycled, from blue to green to yellow, and eventually settled on a maroon color, as spots and checkerboard patterns started forming in the sky. The loamy soil felt hot and as he walked forward it grew hotter and hotter until he was stepping in lava.

He continued to force himself forward, the lava stretching and clinging to his hooves like hot taffy as his legs burnt. The cackling turned to mockery, about how he was worthless, about how he was useless. About how he was Filthy.

And in the distance, as he strained forward, he could see something directly ahead. He focused and was blessed with clarity, as he clearly saw a circular table with a horrible chimaera sitting there. The source of all his problems. Filthy attempted to call for him but the name he was sure he remembered escaped him and remained Unspoken.

Redoubling his efforts, Filthy fought to reach the Unspoken god, every step burning and stinging, as the mockery and cackling became louder and louder. He shouted out, “What do you want from me?!”

There was no response from the Unspoken, but there was a teacup in his claws, and he brought it up to his lips, and without moving his grin took a sip.

“You brought me here!” Filthy shouted. “You must… have some purpose, some reason for this to happen!”

The rictus on the Unspoken’s face only stretched wider.

“Why?! Why did you send me here? Tell me!” He stomped a hoof onto the surface of the taffy-lava. A surge of strength came from his hoof as a terrific crash echoed across the land, and the entire landscape rippled and deformed with the force of his hoof.

The Unspoken’s grin stretched just a little bit wider, as the cackles continued…











Filthy had no idea how long he had been lying down. At some point he regained consciousness and the awful dream ceased, but there was no way of telling even how long ago it was. It was dark, and damp, and he was sure he was lying in his cell.

His legs ached with a dull burn and his back stung. He could feel his fur matted on his back and hooves, though, with what he was hoping were bandages. Sighing, he assembled the likely events that transpired in his head. Passing out, getting bandaged, being left here to recover. He couldn’t even withstand one lousy day of work. None of the Apples would have this problem, would they? They’d be able to weather this, and excel. Have the strength to continue through the day, and excess to plan their escape.

But he couldn’t. He was used to a life of comfort. Given his father’s business, where he spent all day telling other people what to do. He felt like he was a commander, a leader.

But here? In the mud? When nopony was listening to him? When he was nowhere near his wealth, his influence, his life?

He was nothing. He wasn’t Filthy Rich, just Filthy.

He was jarred out of his self-pity by the grumble of his stomach. He hadn’t eaten for who knows how long. He looked around the dim cage, seeing if there was food left for him, and there was not.

However, he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye he caught a dim glimpse of color. The fruit that was presented to Dawn Gleam was sitting right outside of the cage. He rolled himself over, and, his legs protesting, crawled over to the side of the cage. Any food is better than no food.

Reaching out his hoof, he attempted to grab at the fruit. But when he came in contact with it, he found he lacked the… grip he expected. His hoof, the spindly knobby version he was slowly getting used to in this new world, could not flex the way he wanted it to, and the fruit resisted his grip. Some sort of muscle he never knew was there was missing, and it simply didn’t come. He reached out his other hoof, scrabbling at the fruit, attempting to find purchase, but failing. Straining, he reached out with his hooves, moving his head back and pressing his shoulders as close to the bars as he could, and he thrust his hooves out, grasping for the fruit, and felt a tiny bit of pressure on one. Pulling his hooves back to get a look, he saw he had knocked the fruit hopelessly out of reach.

Cursing to himself, he collapsed down on the floor. It was in his grasp, but he ruined it, with his incompetence. And he didn’t know when anypony was coming back, and so he was left alone with his hunger. Nopony was coming to help him, and he couldn’t help himself.

Which really was what was happening with him in this camp. Nopony was coming to save them. They were trapped… possibly forever.

He laid his head down beside him. His stomach growled, and he half scoffed half sobbed as he resigned himself to misery.










He awoke again to a pinch on his legs. Groaning, he blinked out the weariness from his eyes to see a seapony guard poking his hooves, which were still outside of the cage, with his spear. He looked up blearily to the guard, who yelled something incomprehensible at Filthy’s face. It was clear what was being said though, and Filthy crawled backwards back into the cell.

The guard snarled one last time, and opened the cell, leading Dawn and Spoiled back into the cell.

“You’re awake,” Spoiled said, rather passively. “That’s good.”

Dawn gave Spoiled a quick incredulous look. “How are you feeling, Filthy.”

The air hung in silence for a moment, as if everypony was waiting for him to correct her on his name, but no correction said. Filthy shifted around a little bit, noting he was still hungry, and still in pain. “I’ve had better days.”

Dull thuds announced the delivery of the slop that was their every meal. Filthy reached for his with surprising alacrity, dumping his snout into the slop and slurping it up.

Dawn and Spoiled Rich both gave each other a worried look, but pulled up their bowls as well, eating at a more languid pace. They all munched in relative silence, before Spoiled Rich broke the silence. “So, Filthy, what exactly happened to you?”

Filthy took a moment to swallow. Without raising his head, he said, “I couldn’t pull the cart they wanted me to.”

Spoiled narrowed her eyes. “What about those bandages on your back?”

“I was whipped when I collapsed....”

Spoiled snarled. “Barbaric. You deserve better treatment than that.”

“You definitely do…” Dawn stared down at the.

“Do I?” Filthy started forcing himself up onto his feet, his legs protesting with burning. “Do I really? It took me only a day of work to collapse into a heap.” He attempted to put some weight on his legs, and they simply buckled underneath him. “You see! I can hardly stand.”

“That is not fair.” Spoiled stood up and walked over him. “You were not a physical laborer. You ran the most important store in the whole of Ponyville, and had chains. You hardly had the time to spend all day pulling carts like a commoner. You had more important things to do than that. You cannot be expected to switch to manual labor that suddenly, and I would think you--” she poked him in the shoulder “--would know better than to believe anypony who wanted to force you into a degrading job like that has any right to judge you.”

Filthy Rich looked up into the eyes of his wife, and opened his mouth to protest, However, before he started he faltered. His wife was staring him down, with her angry fiery eyes… but if he wasn’t mistaken… behind those fiery eyes that were berating him was fear.

“She’s right… this isn’t fair to either of you.” Dawn’s fear and concern were written more plainly on her face. “What’s happening here is wrong.”

They were worried about his injuries, and about his attitude. Not that that changed anything… but he had a responsibility to not burden them with this. He had to be strong for them, even if it was a lie.

So he forced a smile onto his lips. “You… both are right. I can’t let this get to me, after all.”

Dawn returned the smile, relaxing a bit and returning to her bowl.

Spoiled Rich took a step back, surveying her husband. He looked up at her, trying very hard to smile sincerely. She just narrowed her eyes and sat down to also return to her bowl, clearly choking it down more than Dawn did.

Filthy returned to his bowl as well, and the three of them ate in silence.




The next day began with what was becoming routine. Green slop in the morning, filling but not tasty. Sent outside to the work site, where they were outnumbered by the workers. Full day of work.

Filthy was sent to a different handler. An older stallion, who wore a solid tan smock with tools laid in it over some finer looking clothes underneath. The smock was clearly for work but the clothes were not.

In fact… Filthy looked around and it finally registered that all the workers were clothed. The guards were clothed, of course, in full armor, but even workers who weren’t wearing protective clothes or tools were all fully clothed. So was, for that matter, Dawn Gleam. But… he was still wearing his forevest, collar, and tie, which by now were filthy and in tatters, falling apart. His wife was wearing a simple foreleg blouse, which was also falling apart. Neither were designed for any sort of work at all, and cleaning them was not an option.

Cleaning overall was not an option.

The older stallion led Filthy over to a half-completed house, and to a disorganized pile of bricks. The stallion picked two up, laid them down on a cart, right by each other, and gestured to Filthy. The implication was obvious. Filthy was to be stacking bricks.

He approached a brick, and immediately attempted to wrap his hoof around it, to no avail. Hooves didn’t work that way anymore. He fumbled around a bit and clamped two of his hooves around a brick, lifting it and carefully placing it on the cart.

It took him many times more to fumble than the older stallion took, but Filthy looked back for approval anyway. The handler stared at him with a hard look, before sighing and plodding away, waving and saying something that was still easy enough to understand: continue on, even if you’re incompetent.

Grimacing, he turned back to his task. It was slow going, as expected. Still sore muscles didn’t help, either. He knew he should probably be thankful he was given an easy job, but he couldn’t help but feel ashamed he was given such a simple, easy task, and managed to fumble around a lot with it anyway.

After a few layers of bricks, the older stallion came by, announcing his arrival verbally, and gesturing to the harness of the cart. Biting his lip, Filthy Rich walked over to it, allowing himself to be hitched up. The older stallion, after finishing, set out across the work yard, and Filthy Rich started pulling in tow.

Pretty much as soon as he started pulling, his legs started burning again. He could feel the weakness in his knees, as they wanted to give out when he tried to push. The stallion started to pull away, and Filthy redoubled his efforts. Stilted, trying to bend his weak knees as little as possible, he tried to hobble quickly after the handler.

A misstep. That’s all he needed. He didn’t see the hole in the ground and after his hoof was a foot too low, he instinctively brought his free hoof onto the ground to steady himself. But doing that he tried to put pressure on his knee, and could not. Instead of pulling himself out of the pothole he just flopped over onto his face.

From behind him he heard a terrible clatter, and he scrambled to his feet, righting himself. He turned slowly behind him, to find the bricks had half fallen off the cart.

The older stallion didn’t yell. He didn’t scream or pull out one of his tools to strike Filthy, although it looked like he wanted to, with the anger burning in his eyes. But instead, he just sighed his angriest sigh, and went down, practically ripping the harness of of Filthy, muttering what were no doubt curses and insults, and shoved Filthy to the side, forcing him to sit down beside the cart, while the older stallion restacked the blocks with finesse Filthy couldn’t hope to match.

His cheeks burnt with shame, especially as he looked around and saw that everypony in the camp was staring. Some of the other workers were poking each other and snickering, while others were staring with a look of pity. Including Dawn Crest, who was, predictably, doing some easy job off to the side.

As he scanned the crowd, a familiar pink coat caught his eye and he saw Spoiled set up above a washbin, shuffling around tools. She caught his eye for just a moment, her glare harsh and severe, and she immediately went back to washing the tools. She transferred them from mouth to hoof to mouth with little clumsiness, and occasionally twisted them around, which looked like slower going than she needed to.

Until Filthy realized his wife was practicing. Surely she noticed her hooves aren’t quite what they used to be, but she was moving the tools around much more easily than he was clumsily stacking his.

Filthy knew he should have some happiness on her behalf. She was acclimating better than he was. But instead all he felt was a shamed emptiness, and tore his eyes away from watching her work... and directly into the eyes of the mare from yesterday. Her grin broke into a toothy smile, as if she had been waiting for him to notice her the whole time. Squirming uncomfortably, he watched her mouth something he wouldn’t be able to understand if he could hear her, and she started to laugh.

The emptiness receded, replaced with anger. This was, even more than the fault of everypony else here, her fault. Her fault for pushing him too hard. Her fault for whipping him when he inevitably fell. Her fault for his humiliation right now, even!

He started grinding his teeth, when he heard the older stallion call out for him. Filthy forced his teeth apart, so he wouldn’t be snarling at the older stallion, and looked to him. The stallion had hitched himself up to the cart, but motioned Filthy to walk alongside him as he pulled the cart to his destination.











The day of work came to a close yet again. There were no more dramatic spills, and Filthy Rich even slowly pulled the cart across the yard, after some rest. He allowed himself a touch of pride over it, even though he knew the job was intentionally an easy one.

But he wasn’t getting any better without doing it in the first place.

The three prisoners were led back into their cell in silence, and three bowls of slop were slapped down. Filthy and Spoiled started in on their meal, but Dawn Crest stared at her bowl. Before the guard was able to leave, she stood up and called out for him in the sea pony language.

The guard came back, and she stood up, announcing… something to him. The pony’s ears perked up in interest, and the pony said something back to her, raising an eyebrow.

Looking back at the other prisoners, Dawn said something with pity in her voice, and the guard came over closer, giving her and the other prisoners a look over.

From beside her, Filthy heard his wife pipe up. “And there it is. I was wondering how long it would take for you to decide to leave.”

Dawn promptly turned away from them, back to the guard, announcing something else in the sea pony language, followed up by a bit more back and forth between them.

The guard unlocked the cage, and Spoiled Rich rose to her feet. “And you’re now going to just leave us to this, aren’t you?" The guard slammed the door shut and relocked it as Spoiled stomped across the cage. “Leave us here to be their slaves, to wallow in misery! After all that time of pretending to be friendly I knew this is how it was going to end!”

Dawn looked back for a moment, with an unreadable impassive expression on her face, and said nothing while turning away, and walking out with the guard.

Spoiled stomped back to the bowl of slop, roughly plopping down by it, she exhaled roughly, her body shaking and trembling. She looked back up at Filthy. “I told you, didn’t I? That it wouldn’t be long before she left us to rot here?”

He sighed. “That you did.” The hoofsteps echoed down the hall as their former co prisoner left with the guard. “That you did.”
> A Filthy Hammer Throw
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spoiled Rich walked across the forepony’s hut for what must have been the tenth time that day, delivering clean tools, which appeared to have become her semi-permanent role. She hated the taste of the leather bit in her mouth, hated the whole thing, but her being allowed to pull the cart by herself without lashing her to it meant they were trusting that she wasn’t dangerous.

Which was perfect position for a pony to be in if she wanted to be dangerous.

She heard the jingling of the tools behind her. The often sharp and always made of something hard tools. The first couple of days they were checking the number of tools fastidiously, but almost as soon as they stopped she squirreled away a chisel and a hammer in an out of the way place. A place that, if they were found, they would be assumed to be misplaced… but that she hoped they weren’t.

When the time comes they would be useful.

And she had to do that before this second step that she was working on. This thing will be discovered as missing, and it will cause problems.

But… she took a look over the field, catching an eye of her husband working. With his head down, and his ears pinned.  It’s been days, and he insisted he felt better, physically and mentally, and maybe it was true physically, but…

His slouch, his ears pinned to his head, the apologetic obsequiousness he had been demonstrating was another story. She locked her jaw to prevent herself from gritting her teeth. He was broken.

She knew she couldn’t entirely blame him. It’s been a week and it’s looking just as hopeless as before. But she couldn’t let him get caught up in this life as a habit. If they allowed this to become routine then it would be harder to do anything. They would get complacent, start to convince themselves it wasn’t that bad. They needed a success, something where it was clear the guards didn’t have total control over them.

So, she walked across the forepony’s hut for the tenth time, wondering if this time was the correct time to make her move. If there wasn’t an opportunity she would have to take the risk sneaking in herself.

She scanned the yard again, but she was mostly stumped. The work was proceeding as planned, apparently. Ponies bustled around, artisans shaped wood, and some ponies were raising the frame for a building, pulling on ropes as they struggled to stabilize the frame.

And her old handler was there, too, struggling with his very own part of the frame, apparently having been given a whole quarter of a house for just himself. If he were to drop it the whole house would collapse.

Spoiled Rich smiled a devious smile. It was perfect.

She gave a quick look at her husband to see if he was busy, and he was apparently mid-rest between jobs. So she glared intensely at him, with her best stern frown. Before even a minute passed, he noticed her intense glare, and his eyes widened in surprise. Immediately ditching the glare, she gave a quick furtive glance around and gestured him over with her head.

He also gave a glance around, but seeing that his handler was busy and he was not being asked for a, started walking across the yard.

She twisted around to the little cart, fishing out a small hammer she held in her mouth, and trotted toward her old handler, which, fortunately, was also towards her husband.

“What do you need, Spoiled?” He looked over his shoulder, trying to see if anyone had noticed their meeting. “It’s probably not safe to meet like this.”

“Oooun moomnnt,” she slurred from behind the hammer’s handle. She trotted just a few feet further, trying to gauge the distance between her and her old handler. She nodded, reared back, and with a whip of her head, let the hammer sail through the air.

It twirled through the air as it flew, smacking her old handler in the side of his back. It was hardly a square hit, but as soon as it slammed into him, he opened his mouth in shock. Which caused the rope to escape from it. He fell back and hit the ground, and so did the frame he was holding, which hit ground a second later with a loud crash.

There was more creaking and yelling when the other ponies that were struggling with the frame were also shocked, and a few of them had the ropes ripped from their teeth, which caused the other four sides to start to collapse.

Shortly, none of the frame for the house continued, and they all lay in a pile in the center of the house in a pile of lumber and lashing.

Filthy Rich stared at the disaster, his mouth agape.

Spoiled smiled and placed a hoof gently at the bottom of his mouth, closing it up. “That’s better.”

He looked back to her. “What… did you do that for?”

She smirked. “I needed a distraction.”

“What in the world for?”

“I’m going to fetch some keys from the forepony’s hut.” Filthy started to say something, but Spoiled cut him off. “Listen, you need to go and hide the hammer I just threw at that lad.”

He opened his mouth, attempting to form a sentence, and she cut him off again.

“If they find the hammer I had just cleaned they’ll come looking for me, and I need more time.” She placed her hooves on his shoulders, pushing him just a little forward. “So go and get the hammer while they’re busy chewing him out and hide it.”

Filthy, still looking dubious, walked forward to where the hammer fell near the lad, as he started attempting to explain himself to a forepony that looked about to pop a blood vessel.

Spoiled, for her part, about faced and quickly walked back toward the forepony’s hut. She had a key to find.






Filthy Rich walked himself up to the site of the to-be-raised-but-now-is-a-disaster house. He was nonchalant, he imagined. He tried very hard to be nonchalant, even. He hoped it was working.

He obviously nonchalantly strode over to the site of the collapsed house, trying to look like he was looking at the house, instead of scanning the ground for the hammer. It was laying on some cleared ground. Currently the pony Spoiled struck was shrinking down under the forepony’s glare, trying to get a word in edgewise to the forepony’s angry rant.

Filthy Rich circled himself around the house, trying not to look like he was making a beeline to the hammer. Reaching it, he kicked it into some nearby high grass with a soft tuft of noise. He went back to more earnestly watching the forepony yell at the stallion Spoiled hit with the hammer. He was really getting laid into, and being pushed around, and despite the stallion being actually taller than the forepony, he was cringing down underneath the forepony’s rant.

Filthy felt pangs of sympathy for this stallion, who was guilty of nothing other than being in the wrong place in the wrong time, and, apparently, having no spine. However, despite that lack of spine, he managed to blurt out a response. The forepony leaned close into him, growling something menacing, before stepping back and announcing something to the other ponies. He also finally took note of Filthy, shooing him away.

Filthy took the excuse to step away, moving into the taller grass where he had kicked the hammer. I had better move it, so that they won’t find it. So, he walked over to find it in the grass, giving it another kick, and with another chuff it landed nearby, disturbing the grass.

He walked over to the second place it landed, looking at it in the grass, and the forepony’s voice rang out. Instinctively, Filthy looked up to it, to find the forepony shouting at him.

A lance of panic went through his mind. He began to step away from the hammer, before stopping himself. It’s going to be found if it is still here, he thought. I have to move it.

He looked up to the forepony stomping over to him, and back down at the hammer. Moving it with his mouth was right out. He’d notice the grass and movement if Filthy kicked it. Instinctively he grabbed at it, but of course, he couldn’t get a grip on it.

Damnation! He could feel bile rising in his gut as panic started to set in. I’m going to be found out. With the hammer right here, right after that stallion explained that he was probably hit in the back by something. There is nothing not suspicious about this.

He looked back down, stomping lightly on the hammer. I am about to be found, and then I’m going to be punished… or be beaten again.. He grit his teeth glaring at the hammer under his hoof. And all of this would be fixed if this damn hammer would just stick!

Something welled up from deep within Filthy Rich. Something that was both familiar and unfamiliar. A pulse of some kind of power came from within him, and in his mind he could feel a certain gesture. He moved his hoof with this short pattern, almost of its own accord, and the pulse of power intensified and there formed a faint sigil in the air near the ground.

He placed his hoof back down and it felt… just a bit stuffier. But when he picked his foot back up to inspect it, the hammer stuck to his hoof. His heart skipped a beat as he almost raised the hammer above the high grass, but with a command from his mind the hammer unstuck.

He glanced up quickly, and the forepony was almost upon him! He quickly placed his hoof next to the hammer, and willed it to stick to his hoof, and took a step back, making sure to shuffle awkwardly and not raise his hoof with the hammer stuck to it above the grass.

The forepony spread the grass in front of Filthy, looking down where Filthy was staring just before. Of course, he saw nothing. Filthy Rich, quickly moving his hoof behind him and letting the hammer set down on the ground, plopped down and waved his hooves up, trying to look helpless.

The forepony spent just a bit looking in the grass around. He looked up and glared at Filthy, who gave his best innocent smile. He snorted, stood back up, and issued a command to Filthy Rich, waving him away.

Filthy nodded, and, making sure to stick the hammer to his forehoof, shuffled away, back toward the hut he knew contained his wife. Once he was far enough away, and was sure nopony was looking, he deposited the hammer in a place where it might be likely to be laid by mistake, far away from where it struck the working stallion.

He nodded to himself, satisfied that his bit of subterfuge went well, when he heard a yell coming from the direction of the hut. He turned around just in time to see a nauseating yellow stallion drag his wife out of the hut. She was resisting, and he roughly yanked her by her neck.

Filthy’s blood boiled. That was his wife he was stallionhandling!

He started running over to her and the stallion, and even yelled out “Hey!” but as soon as his voice rang out, both the yellow stallion and his wife looked to him. The stallion tensed up, but his wife, she just glared at him with a slight shake of her head.

Filthy Rich stopped in his place, and grit his teeth. The stallion smirked, said something and yanked his wife along some more.

The forepony and his group arrived, and the yellow stallion started talking rapidly, shaking Spoiled for emphasis. The forepony seemed to think for a second, then called out something. The tan pony that Spoiled hit earlier came up, and was immediately struck by the forepony. The surrounding other ponies fell dead quiet.

The forepony, deadly serious, muttered something to the crowd, who then all gasped.

The tan pony stammered out words, but, as usual, Filthy couldn’t understand any of it. His vision drifted over to his wife, who was already looking back at him. With her eyes and a subtle move of her muzzle, she motioned over closer to the hut.

Looking over near the hut, Filthy caught a glint of something metal. It had to be the key she came for. While the forepony yelled at the tan pony, Filthy once more sidled up toward his target, his muzzle closer to the ground looking to confirm the key’s position.

Just as soon as the key was right underneath his muzzle, a loud yell, the same word as the loud yell before, pierced the camp, and Filthy froze. He looked back up quickly, and the forepony was gesturing toward him.

Quickly, Filthy backed up and slammed his hoof onto the key, willing it to stick to his hoof as the yellow pony that was attending his wife lunged for him, grabbing him roughly and yanking his neck just as he had Spoiled.

He was pulled up with his wife, with the forepony and half the camp looming over them.

The forepony stared the two of them down, and announced a command, and the yellow stallion, alongside a couple others, descended upon the couple, roughly yanking their heads over, and forcing their mouths apart.

In turn both Spoiled and Filthy had their mouths probed by filthy hooves and their heads shaken to dislodge anything they might’ve stolen.

Finding nothing, the stallions roughly shoved the slaves down to the ground. The forepony, for his part, made more announcements and several worker ponies started combing the ground for anything stolen, with another entering the hut.

The forepony also followed up by growing something menacing, to which the yellow stallion chuckled. He yanked on the Rich’s chains, pulling them back in the direction.

Then, from out in the yard, a feminine voice announced a question. A very familiar voice. Filthy Rich resisted turning around as the forepony answered, and there was an even more familiar cackle.

As the yellow pony led them along, the dark blue seapony that was Filthy’s previous handler joined them, smirking. But she didn’t say anything, nor did she look back, but Filthy knew it was only a matter of time.

The four of them finally reached the cages, and the yellow stallion, now gray in the dim light, instead of opening the cages simply turned around to look at the two of them.

They stayed there in silence, watching each other for a moment. After nearly a full minute, Spoiled finally lost patience, “So what do you--”

The hoof came almost faster than Filthy could see, cuffing her in the jaw. She flinched back, collapsing under the blow.

Filthy, for his part, felt his blood boil again and he raised up and started to yell, only to result in the stallion delivering a punch to his jaw too. He reeled back, dizzy from the force of the blow, and he heard the telltale cackle of the dark blue mare.

A painful sting of a crop came down on his back, causing him to arch it and collapse in pain. He groaned from the ground, catching a hoof to the abdomen, knocking the wind out of him.

For the next few minutes he was vaguely aware of the yellow stallion carrying out a conversation with the mare as he was continuously knocked around by them. It wasn’t like the last time, he wasn’t being lacerated nor was he ever being knocked out… but it hurt like hell.

As the blows began to abate, he felt himself dragged somewhere, and heard the clatter of the cell door closing. The blinding pain began to subside as he laid down, getting his bearings. In the cell, beaten, but somehow it wasn’t as bad as he had been before.

He looked around the cell, and found Spoiled, disturbed but still awake in the cell. She looked back at him, miserable and hurt, and she hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

Filthy Rich felt his jaw fall just a little bit, and he looked on, his mouth gaping a little.

“I… I thought we needed a win. I thought I could distract them and I could get the key and hide it away somewhere to use later. But instead… this happened.” Her ears pinned against her head. “I messed up, Filthy.” Her voice was wavering. “I messed up.”

Filthy Rich, looking at his wife, started to chuckle. The chuckle shortly turned to guffaws, turned to full body laughter. It hurt, to laugh, but laugh he did.

Spoiled Rich looked at him with a baffled expression. “I’m glad to see you… in good spirits, but perhaps you’d like to share with me why.”

Filthy Rich held his hoof out to Spoiled Rich, and she crawled up closer, trying to look at it. Before she got in range, though, the key fell down from the center of his frog, making a soft sound as it hit the ground.

“The key!” Spoiled Rich came down, using her mouth to transfer the key to her own hoof. “But how did you carry it?”

Filthy Rich smirked and placed his hoof on the key, willing it to stick. But as he moved his hoof it did not stick. He tried a few more times, finding that the power he had felt was gone.

“Just… what are you doing?”

Filthy Rich thought back… the symbol, the gesture from his hands was still yet clear in his mind. He allowed his hoof to retrace the pattern he was envisioning, and expressed his will. He felt power come from somewhere deep inside, and the pattern’s glyph glowed faintly in the air, with his hoof glowing for just a moment at the end.

Filthy and Spoiled Rich stared at his hoof, both now mesmerized by it. The weight of what just happened landed on Filthy Rich. He just traced a gesture and caused a glow. A magical glow. He had just used--

“Magic…” Spoiled whispered. She looked up to Filthy. “But how?”

“I… don’t know.” He placed his hoof on the key, willing it to stick to his hoof, and raised it up. “The… gesture just came to me. It felt natural.”

“Sh-show me again.”

He traced the gesture in the air again, willed and there was a glowing glyph. Spoiled attempted to trace the same gesture with her hoof, but there was no effect.

“Do you… feel anything unusual, Spoiled?”’

She traced the pattern with her hoof again. “... No. Nothing. Damnation.”

Filthy pursed his lips. “Sorry, honey.”

She flipped her hair around. “No matter. This is a boon. Can you do anything else?”

Filthy felt around inside his head. Or… what passed for feeling around. Or… well he didn’t really do anything. Because he couldn’t recall anything similar to this. “I… don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If this magic can be used for anything else, do not keep it to yourself, alright?”

Filthy Rich chuckled to himself, wincing a little from the bruises. “Will do, honey. Will do.”

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, the key still attached to Filthy’s hoof. Filthy broke the silence. “We should find a place to hide the key.”
> A Filthy Scornful Slaver
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Filthy Rich trudged along the open yard, pulling the loaded up supplies. He was still working for the older artisan stallion, but now alongside him there was the mare. The same dark blue one that whipped him before, and the same one that beat him and his wife last night. Brought in for backup to watch him.

She wasn’t filled with wicked grins or cackles today. Instead she took a few directions from the gruff artisan, and little else.

She was also wearing a full whip today, instead of holding a little switch like she had before. This seemed to be the new way things worked for both him and his wife. They weren’t being punished, or worked any harder, but the meagre trust that was built up was gone, and they were being watched.

Although… not constantly. They weren’t being watched now, for example. The mare was off watching someone else work. Maybe she was bored. It didn’t matter, because Spoiled was also not being watched.

Their eyes connected, and both of them slunk off to a nearby tree.

Filthy Rich started. “They’re really coming down on us, today. How are you holding up?”

She brushed her shoulder with her hoof. “It’s inconvenient, but they’ve kept their hooves off of me. I had hoped we wouldn’t be caught at all, but this is hardly the worst I could imagine.”

Filthy Rich smiled. “It looks like we got off lucky, indeed. What is our next move?”

Spoiled Rich looked over her shoulder. “We need a plan for getting out of our cage unnoticed, and then a plan for how to actually get off this island.”

Filthy frowned. “I can imagine that last part is… not easy.”

Grimacing, Spoiled Rich looked back to her husband. “No. Unfortunately, they won’t be taking us to the docks anytime soon, so we will be forced to improvise that part. We need to focus on figuring out how to escape without detection.”

Filthy nodded. “And that involves not causing trouble now.”

“Exactly, we can’t afford for them to crack down on us mo--”

There was a loud crack from a whip, and the couple both flinched, and a triumphant cry rang out. Both of them wheeled around to see the blue mare holding her whip in her mouth, grinning like a madmare through the grip.

She whipped a few times and pointed, and the couple marched off to the more common areas, where the mare presented them to the forepony.

She and the forepony exchanged conversation for a minute, until the mare slammed her hoof on the ground with a demand. The forepony retorted back with a forceful statement that seemed to leave her abashed.

He pointed to Filthy, staring at the mare and issuing her a command, shouted at another pony briefly, and then wheeled about, stamping off.

The other pony came around, escorting Spoiled, and the mare snorted and roughly shoved Filthy along. She stomped along, clearly having her no doubt sadistic plan shut down, and Filthy Rich smirked.

She wheeled around and hissed something at him. She spat out something that no doubt was completely vile, but that Filthy couldn’t understand at all. But what he *could* understand was that her hooves were tied. Whatever terrible threat she just uttered was completely impotent, and Filthy felt his smirk grow.









Filthy Rich practically strut into the cell that evening, his head held high. The rest of the day the mare had glared at him, practically itching to catch him, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. And he knew it frustrated her to no end.

Spoiled Rich laid down on a leafy pat, smirking. “You seem to be in a good mood.”

Filthy Rich sat down next to her. “I am. I know we have a lot more to consider, but it feels like we have some hope, now.”

Spoiled Rich smiled, and lay her head next to her husband.

Filthy Rich started to snuggle up to his wife when there was the sound of hooves approaching. The two of them shared a look and scooted away from each other, to the edge of the cage in preparation for the slop for tonight.

The two figures moved down the hallway, and what Filthy saw made his blood run cold. These were not the guards presenting them with their bowls of goop. It was the blue mare, accompanied by the stallion from last night. They had bowls of food, which were placed by the far wall, and they approached the cell.

Opening the cell, the mare stepped back and gestured for them to exit.

Eyeing her suspiciously, Filthy Rich complied, only to find that, as he stepped out he was grabbed by the neck and yanked out by the stallion. He hit the ground roughly. Groaning, he tried to stand himself up and was rewarded with a hoof on his back, shoving him down to the ground. He twisted his head around, looking up at his captor.

The mare above him smiled a wicked smile, her white teeth flashing in the dark. She said something sweet and mocking, and shoved him over and gave him a swift kick to the gut.

Filthy doubled over, his breath knocked out of him. He grit his teeth and looked up at her, at her sadistic grin. He may have somehow had a reprieve when the forepony was watching, but here, in the dark, she was in charge, again.

She kicked his chest, knocking the wind out of him again. She started talking to him, walking around him, in that language he simply could not understand. Her threats were lost on him, but the tone was not, and neither were the blows.

She stepped back, addressing someone behind Filthy, and he wrenched himself over to look. The stallion was looming over his wife, facing away from him. His wife was creeping back toward the wall slowly as he approached her, and in the darkness Filthy saw just a tiny glint of metal from his mouth. He was brandishing a dagger at his wife.

He was threatening his wife with a dagger.

Anger surged through him, and he scrambled to his feet, rushing at the stallion. Spoiled Rich darted to the side as he collided with the stallion, tackling him to the ground. The dagger was knocked aside, and Filthy Rich struggled with the stallion for a moment, before being kicked off.

As he pulled himself up off the ground, from behind him he heard a wild cackle. He turned around just in time to have a powerful sting erupt on his shoulder, accompanied by a loud crack. Crying out in pain, he collapsed back onto the ground.

He pushed himself up off of the ground, and the sea pony stallion, rubbing his shoulder, moved alongside the mare, who was flourishing with her whip, swinging it lazily back and forth.

The stallion said something apparently to Filthy Rich, and reached his muzzle to the side and drew a thin blade from a scabbard strapped to his side. He grinned from out behind the sword, and he and the mare both approached Filthy.

The sword came down on his left and Filthy dodged to the right. He could hear it whizzing past his head, but he successfully avoided the slash. And was successfully whipped on his right a loud crack accompanying a new gash on his shoulder.

He grit his teeth and stepped back, not crying out this time. The mare swung her head again and Filthy Rich hopped back, the whip cracking loudly right in front of him. He winced.

When he opened his eyes a second later, the stallion had closed the distance, and Filthy Rich scrambled to the side, the sword grazing his shoulder with a sting.

Filthy Rich stepped back again, only to bump up against the wall behind him. Shock lanced through his mind and he froze. The mare and the stallion crept toward him, knowing he had nowhere to go.

He grit his teeth and pressed up closer against the wall. From his mind, another surge of power tingled, right within reach. He let the instinct take him, like he had before. Raising up on his hooves, he called out an incantation in an ancient magical language, and slammed them down on the ground with a thunderous clap.

The stallion and mare were blown away, the stallion thrown against a cage, and the mare knocked out into the open, gracelessly falling into a heap on the open floor. Filthy Rich stared at his hooves, astonished, but heard the mare groan from the ground as she stirred.

He darted over to her, and she pushed herself up, brandishing her whip. She whirled her head back, but he closed the distance and tackled her, pushing her back to the ground. He lifted her head up, and came down with all his weight on it, smacking it against the hay covered floor. He did it again. And again. Until she stopped moving.

Filthy Rich stood up over the mare. She had coughed up a little blood, but seemed to not be further coughing… anything. Was she dead? Filthy felt sick to his stomach momentarily. Holding his breath, he lowered his hoof down to her neck, trying to remember where to feel the pulse.

A sharp lance of pain erupted from his side as he felt something slice across his ribs. He was rewarded with more pain as he twisted back to see the stallion with the sword, haggard and hunched over. The stallion lurched forward again, and Filthy Rich stepped back and stumbled over the mare’s body on the ground.

The stallion stood over Filthy, glaring balefully at him, and as he stepped forward, he made a noise sort of like a party goer about to upchuck, but instead of doing that he collapsed in a gurgle. There was a knife sticking out of in his back.

Behind him was standing Spoiled Rich, breathing in and out heavily, her eyes as ragged as her breaths. Between them, in the dim light, they could see a growing dark pool beneath the stallion, as his blood bled onto the ground.

Biting his lip, Filthy Rich scrambled to his feet to the stallion, and grabbed the dagger, using it to start slicing his clothes off of him.

“What-- what are you doing?” Spoiled Rich gaped at him.

“What does it look like,” Filthy Rich announced. “I’m trying to get a clear view of the wound.”

“Filthy, this stallion tried to murder us.” Spoiled stamped onto him and he made a coughing noise. “He led us here to beat us and goad us into making a move to justify our deaths.”

Filthy was momentarily stunned. Was… that what happened here? “Still, I won’t be party to killing this stallion if I don’t have to.”

Rolling her eyes, Spoiled Rich knelt down to help, rifling through his side gear to find another dagger, helping cut off a strip of cloth. They lifted the stallion and tied something around him to staunch the wounds, with no clue if that would actually save this stallion’s life, but he didn’t stop breathing, and the pool stopped increasing in size.

Walking over to the other mare, Spoiled Rich started rifling through the pouch at her side. “Spoiled,” Filthy protested, but she held up a hoof.

“I may agree with you that we should try to save their lives, but I will not be polite enough that I won’t take whatever they may have to help us escape.”

Filthy looked dubious, but turned around to the cage anyway. He cast the sticky hooves spell, and reached up to the top of the cage, reaching up to where he had hidden the key, in a place it would be impossible for him to put a key without this spell.

He unlocked his hooves, and walked over to Spoiled Rich, who was attempting to strap strap a scabbard onto her side, with a short something loaded in it. There was also another scabbard, although without a strap on the ground, and a few pouches.

“Let me help, dear.” Filthy Rich used his magic hooves to help loop the scabbard around her, and linked it together with his mouth. And he held up the key, grinning.

When she was also freed from her bonds, and the additional scabbard tied around Filthy’s barrel, and the two pouches, which were mostly filled with silver and gold coins, and a few other simple things like matches, were also attached to them.

They nodded at each other affirmatively. They could not stay here, anymore. They headed out, into the dim light of the compound proper.
> A Rich Escape Plan
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“They keep this place awfully dark.” Filthy Rich slunk behind his wife next to the walls of the compound. Fortunately, the floor was not bare stone, so, without any shackles on anymore, there was no sound echoing, except for the whispers of the two of them.
Of course, this means that they also had no idea where they were going. Going to the work yard was out of the question, and that was the only place they clearly remembered. Trying to remember that first day, full of fear and stress, was not getting them anywhere. So they were going to wander the facility, hoping to find something to help them leave, having to improvise.
“Yes… they never seemed to have difficulty seeing anything. Do you think they can see in the dark?”
“In the dark?”
Filthy Rich could make out an affirmative nod from his wife. “They breathe water, right? In a place with less sunlight, perhaps they can also see better in the dark.”
“... They are really like a whole different sort of creature, aren’t they?”
The conversation fell silent, leaving him to consider the unpleasant thoughts that they might have seen them as less than real ponies.
The fact that they were not actually out of danger was announced by the loud sound of clanking. Spoiled Rich perked her ears up, her whole body moving to an alert stance. Filthy Rich, for his part, started looking around in a panic.
Spoiled Rich backed up into Filthy, turning his shoulders around. “The intersection before. We need to go down the other direction,” she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. “Hurry.”
The two of them hustled back, attempting to stay quiet, ahead of the loud clanking announcing the marching of some soldiers. They cut down the side of a switchback, where there were even some boxes to hide behind, and they quickly found their way down there, down the direction away from their old holding cells. They turned around, peeking outside from the boxes.
Filthy Rich felt his heart beating in his chest loudly, as he tried to control his breathing. Looking at Spoiled, she had her jaw set and teeth grit, breathing deep breaths. Two guards in their coral looking armor, with spears mounted on their sides and helmets that only allowed their mouths to be seen, marched in at a quick pace, and they stopped at the intersection, and one of them turned to the other.
But the sound of clanking armor didn’t stop, and they looked around confused for a moment. Before they could say anything, there was the callout of a high pitched voice behind the guards, and a third guard came, running behind them, this one armed with a sword sheathed at her side instead of a spear mounted on her armor.
One of the previous guards barked an order to the new guard, and she panted heavily, and made a snappy salute, announcing something.
There was a grunt and a sigh from another guard, who then barked something else at the interloper, put her hoof to the back of her head and laughed.
The leader guard ordered something, and the three of them split up to look at the three pathways of the intersection.
Which meant, of course, the new guard was headed to them. Filthy Rich and Spoiled looked at each other in a panic, and both scrambled to find better hiding places. Spoiled found crevasse of boxes to crawl into the corner of, but as Filthy looked around in a panic, he realized there wasn’t anywhere to hide. As far as he could see, anyway, and he pressed himself into the corner by another box, hoping that the guard would trot by, not looking.
The guard trot by, not looking.
Filthy Rich let out a sigh of relief.
The guard’s ear perked, and she turned around, looking directly at him.
Filthy Rich froze, his heart pounding in his chest. The guard looked to the left and to the right, apparently not seeing Spoiled Rich, and looked down at Filthy Rich. She leaned down slowly to him, creeping slowly down, as if not to panic him.
The voice whispered a word.
His ears perked. He was expecting a foreign word. A word he could not understand. But that word… sounded a lot more familiar.
“Filthy, it’s me,” a voice whispered with insistence.
A shadow skulked up behind her, the dark form that Filthy knew was Spoiled. A form he knew would have drawn a dagger.
Filthy grabbed the mare in front of him, and yanked her back, creating a loud clatter of metal noise as the guard collapsed onto the ground, and Spoiled missed her stab. She glared at Filthy from behind the guard.
“Wait, I think this--” Filthy was cut off by a call from the other guards.
The other two guards charged, weapons attached to their sides. Spoiled leapt back from the guard on the ground, and Filthy attempted to extract himself from the guard, and stabilize himself, but was not fast enough, and quickly found a spear tip pointed at his neck. He backed up to the crates and wall behind him, and the spear came forward along to him.
Spoiled grit her teeth, looking behind her, into the darkness of the hallway behind her, and looked back to Filthy Rich, pinned against the wall.
The other helping guard helped the mysterious female guard up, clearly asking if she was alright, and she muttered something noncommittally. The spear wielding guard turned back to Spoiled, motioning her to join Filthy up against the wall. She cursed under her breath, gave a last quick glance at the mysterious hallway, and trot over to her husband.
The guards made officious noises and bluster, like they were satisfied with themselves, and behind them, the guard with the sword drew something else from her armor. It looked like a black club of some kind. She quietly moved beside another one, and rapped him on the head solidly with the object.
The guard collapsed straight down, nicking Filthy on his neck, stinging but not deep.
The other guard wheeled around, staring at the betraying guard. His hoof came up and smacked the betrayer’s mouth, knocking the weapon out of it, and he further came forward and wrestled the helmet off of the betraying guard.
From underneath an orange mane billowed out. The mane of Dawn Crest.
The other guard backed up, obviously shocked. He started saying something, and Dawn made a face at this. The guard got more vehement, saying something outraged. Dawn Crest was saying something in the sea pony language, and getting vehement herself.
From behind him, Spoiled snuck up, her dagger ready for stabbing, and raised her head.
Dawn Crest protested in the sea pony language, and the guard whirled around, knocking back Spoiled with his forehooves. He stabbed menacingly at her, only to be struck in the back of the head with the club by Dawn Crest.
Spoiled spat the dagger out. “Now what was that?!”
“You were about to stab him!”
“He intended to enslave us, and might have killed us himself!”
“I didn’t come in here to save you by slaughtering my people.”
Spoiled Rich looked like she was about to retort but bit her tongue, and came back more sedately. “We just had two ponies come into our cell, intending on beating us and finding an excuse to harm us more.”
Dawn Crest sucked in a breath, and grit her teeth, she looked like she was about to say something, but no words came out of her mouth.
Filthy Rich forced himself up. “Staying here is no longer an option for us. Please tell us you have a plan to get us out?”
Dawn Crest shook her head. “Sorta. I was planning on heading for the sea sleds. Let you guys out toward the sea by some other exit, and take one out and pull you to a safe place.”
The two of them looked somewhat dubiously at Dawn.
“I did expect to have a day or two of planning.”
“Well, we don’t have that,” Spoiled Rich said. “So this will have to do, and we’ll hope that your plan is workable. Where is our exit?”
Dawn grimaced and slid her helmet back on. “That’s the problem. I haven’t looked around, and the only exit I know is only somewhat less dangerous than going through the front.”






“This is hardly less dangerous!” Spoiled Rich spat in a whisper.
They were at another entrance to the caves, a large opening, and on the outside, bathed in light moonlight, there were an array of huts, with occasional sea ponies milling about, and the light of a fire in a few places.
It was the living quarters for the worker ponies.
“We are going to be caught!”
“Relax,” Dawn Crest said. “We don’t have to go through the town. We just need to sneak around the side to the shore. Then we’ll swim to the gate, and I’ll go in and fetch a sled.” She slunk forward, making a clatter that seemed far less loud outside of the tunnels of the compound. “Come on.”
“Wait,” Spoiled Rich, whispered.
“What?”
“Are you going to be able to pull the sled by yourself? You are smaller than I am.”
Filthy looked at Dawn Crest. She was indeed a petite thing. “I admit, I find it unlikely you’d be able to pull the two of us.”
Dawn huffed. “Look, it’s not ideal, but I can do it. We just need to make sure not to get caught. Now come on.”
The three of them slunk around the side of the camp. Fortunately, the huts were not facing the wall of the cavern, that would be silly, and they had a pretty clear shot. At least, until the coast was rather near, and one of the huts was nearly pressed up against the cavern wall.
Dawn held up a hoof, halting them, coming up to a nearby hut, and peeking around the corner. “I only see one pony nearby, look.”
Filthy and Spoiled peered around the corner of the hut, and indeed there was one pony attending a fire, a largely built pony, too.
“I’ll sneak first. I’m the loudest, but if he sees only me I can probably explain it away. Then the two of you come by.” Dawn started slinking very slowly, behind the pony poking at the fire forlornly with a stick. She still made vaguely clinking noises, from the armor, but she slunk so very slowly… and slowly made her way past the pony, to the other side.
Filthy Rich let go of the breath he was holding, huffing in relief. Only two more. He looked back at Spoiled, and nodded. The two of them set out, sneaking along the same path. Filthy put his hooves down as gingerly as he could, trying not to wince as he could hear very faint shuffling noises, from his clothes, from the sand underneath him. It was like every tiny noise resounded loudly.
But the pony didn’t look away from the fire, and as Filthy and Spoiled grew closer, they heard him muttering to himself, lost in thought.
Filthy Rich crept along, passing the pony far too close for comfort, but he was on the other side, and then, from behind him, he heard a clatter. His heart stopped and he slowly rotated his head, to see his wife having knocked down a tall metal kettle of some sort.
And the pony behind them turned around, his eyes wide like discs. The pony reared up and looked like he was about to shout, but almost as short a different shout, although not very loud, came from Dawn Crest from the side.
She ran up, frantically saying something in the sea pony language. The pony seemed stunned by this action, and began to converse with Dawn Crest.
Filthy Rich looked back at Spoiled, who mouthed ‘sorry.’ He snorted and shook his head, the mistake already forgiven.
Dawn was holding a conversation, imploring the sea pony to do something, no doubt let them go, gesturing back to Filthy and Spoiled.
Spoiled took a step forward, putting a hoof on Dawn Gleam. “Dawn… I think you should convince this pony to come with us.”
Both Filthy and Dawn stared at Spoiled. “What? Why on earth do you think I could--”
“When we escape, he is going to be blamed for our disappearance. If he wasn’t before, he definitely is now, if we have to knock him out first. He’s been blamed for all our attempts to escape so far.”
Filthy gave a second look at the stallion, and it clicked. This was the stallion that was appointed caretaker for Spoiled. The one that was punished for her sneaking off the other day. The one that was clearly not in good favor by the leaders of the camp, as a result.
Spoiled continued. “The other ponies barely tolerate his actions, and they probably already suspect him of being a traitor. He has no future here, and his only real option is to come with us.”
Dawn turned to the other pony slowly, and said something deliberately. The other pony’s demeanor changed immediately. He protested. Dawn pressed, with a half astonished tone, and he started protesting more vehemently.
As the unable to be understood argument continued, Filthy looked at Spoiled.
She leaned over to him. “To be honest, I don’t think Dawn could pull the sled alone. It was fortunate we ran into this specific pony,” She whispered, a smug smile appearing on her face.
Filthy stared at her. This pony… all of the things that happened to him were her fault. The ostracisation of the other ponies. Being blamed for her actions because he wasn’t able to control her well enough. His situation was her fault. And now… in order to make sure we could escape… she was asking him to come along. He looked down to the knocked over kettle, and realized it wasn’t even on their sneaking path. It would have to have been knocked over deliberately.
Filthy looked back at the conversation, and Dawn was asserting something strongly, and the other pony, despite being larger, was clearly in the throes of doubt. He was shrinking down, making himself look small, his ears were laid back, his expression conflicted.
In one final summoning of courage, the work pony stood up, saying something definitively.
In response, Dawn Crest took off her helmet, and the pony was taken aback. With the same conviction, she declared something else, then, a moment later, followed it up with a gentler thing.
The worker pony had one final conflicted expression, but sighed. He said something, almost resigned, but looked into her eyes and nodded.
“Alright, he’s in.” Dawn spun around and started marching off. “Come on.”
Filthy filed in behind the worker pony, next to Spoiled, who had a satisfied grin on her face, but all Filthy felt was a sense of unease.
> A Rich Uneasy Trip
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three ponies sat on the shore under the cloak of darkness, Dawn Crest having left them to fetch a sled. Filthy Rich stared up into the sky. It had been days since he saw the stars, and they dotted the unfamiliar sky. They filled the sky, denser than any night in Equestria, probably because of the oddly shaped moon, which was by far the most foreign part of the sky.
See, this moon wasn’t an actual circle, but more like a… small almost half circle oblong shape. The moon was a constant in the night sky of Equestria, bright and round, but this was only half large and much less bright.
So this sky, dark and filled with so many stars continued to mark this world as strange in so many ways. But it was still a beautiful sky. He supposed if he knew the stars better he could point out where the constellations were wrong, but he didn’t, so instead he just stared up into the unfamiliar sky and half-moon.

A warm form pressed to his side, as he stared up, and he heard a light sigh. He glanced down at the form of his wife, who seemed troubled. His arm went around her, pulling her close smiling. This world might be unfamiliar, but at least something is familiar. She smiled weakly, and laid her head on his shoulder.

How long had it been since he held her like this? He couldn’t clearly remember when she was last this affectionate. But, they’ve been through a lot this past week… and at least things were looking up now. He looked back down at her, in time to see her eyes flick to someone else, and he turned to see their new ally.

Who was pacing, and glancing at them, before going back to pacing.

Spoiled gave another sigh, clearly a little exaggerated, before clinging to him harder, and Filthy watched as the stallion on the beach’s expression turned pained before he turned away again, pacing still.

The warm feeling inside Filthy’s gut grew cold, as he watched the stallion wrestle with himself. Wrestle with himself as Spoiled put on an act of affection. In order to gain this mysterious stallion’s pity, looking like a vulnerable loving couple. Rather than two ponies who fought off their captors and couldn’t remember the last time they were this affectionate.

But he couldn’t pull away. They didn’t know what Dawn said, and they don’t know how trustworthy this stallion is, or if he was ready to turn them in. So he sat, cold and lonely, trapped in his wife’s embrace.






Shortly, a water sled led itself aside the shore, and Dawn Gleam surfaced, motioning them over. The stallion walked directly into the water, disappearing beneath the surface as well. Spoiled pulled herself up first, loading herself onto the sled, followed by Filthy, and it started pulling away from the shore and the accursed island, pulled by the two ponies that actually could.
Filthy Rich looked back at the island as they pulled away, and tried to put a smile on his face. “I’m not sure I can believe it…” he looked back at Spoiled.

“Believe what?”
“That we’re escaping this place… so soon, even. We were here for… what, only a week? I can’t believe our luck that nobody has noticed we’re leaving and we are on our way to the mainland already with no ponies chasing us… it feels unreal to think we won’t have to worry about this anymore.”

Spoiled Rich stretched, making a self pleased humming noise. “Yes, well, we’d be in what is probably worse if that stallion couldn’t be convinced. It was a calculated risk, but I read him correctly.”

Filthy Rich swallowed an objection, because she was right. This was a good plan, even if that other stallion was getting the short end of the deal, he was a slaver. One that, hopefully, had his better morals appealed to to convince him to help them escape.

“Besides,” she continued, “we had to leave as soon as possible. If we stay, then we become complacent. We would start to believe it would be impossible to leave… and then it would come true. We would trap ourselves in it.” She sat back down and chuffed. “Not to mention that the longer we stay the better they understand how to keep us there and get used to what we’re capable of.” She smiled a sly smile. “Fortunately, we didn’t quite know what we were capable of anyway, what with those powers of yours…”

“Not to mention Dawn Crest coming back for us.”

“Yes…” Spoiled looked away. “Of course.”

“And you thought she had abandoned us.” Filthy managed to crack a genuine smile.

Spoiled huffed, but smiled. “I suppose this is a rare chance where I am happy to admit I read somepony wrong.” She pointed at Filthy in warning. “Don’t get used to it.”

Filthy blurted out a laugh. “I’m sure I won’t, sweetheart.”

They fell into comfortable silence, as they looked out at the pale moonlight reflecting off of the waves. Filthy Rich, though, looked at his wife, and sidled up against her, pressing his side to hers. He was rewarded with her leaning her head on his shoulder, as the two of them watched the waves.

Filthy Smiled a genuine smile this time, and put an arm around his wife, his preemptive panic about her. This was his wife. He had known her for so many years. He couldn’t let their current arguments let him forget that.

He looked back up at the moon, the unfamiliar half moon, and sighed. “But even with this… we still don’t know what’s going to happen to us. We’re in a strange, unfamiliar world.”

No response came from his wife, although her shifting against him told him she was paying attention.

He followed with, “And then… we’ve been gone for a week, and that’s a week that Diamond Tiara has been alone.”

Aside him, he felt his wife tense up. “It has been… a whole week, hasn’t it? Without us there? It was so easy to get caught up in our troubles.”

They sat in silence, before Filthy piped up once more: “I suppose, for now, we can only hope her friends, or the good ponies of Ponyville, or even our staff, are up to the task of helping her out, even as we are in a situation like this.”

“I suppose so…”






There was a knock on the door, and Diamond Tiara opened her bleary eyes to her room. Natural light filtered through the windows, and the room still was filled with dolls and toys set neatly on shelves, dusty from disuse. She trudged over to the door, finding Randolph behind it.
He bowed low, and from beneath his feet, a tiny pony poked her head in, gasping in glee. “Oh my gosh look at all of it!” Tiny hooves scampered into the room, slipping past the aging butler and even Diamond Tiara, and started hopping around the room.
The little pale blue filly darted around the room. “Wow I’ve never been in this room.”
Diamond Tiara whirled around. “H-hey!”
“Settle down, Plaid,” Argyle Note’s voice came from behind Randolph, as he stepped out. “This is Diamond Tiara’s personal room, and you should not come barging in without permission.”
“Aww, but I wanted to see the dollhouses.” Plaid hung her shoulders down in a sulk.
Diamond Tiara sighed. “You can look but don’t touch.”
Plaid squealed happily, and pattered over to the dollhouse on the table in the room, starting to marvel at it.
Diamond Tiara stepped forward out of the room. “Hello, Mister Note.”
“Hello, Miss Tiara. How have you been?”
“Since just yesterday?” she said, her eyes half lidded.
“... Of course since yesterday.”
“Same as before,” she said, looking away. “Mother and Father are still missing. The staff is still here. I’m fine.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’re fine.”
“I’d be more fine if you could hurry up and find them.” Diamond Tiara stamped a tiny hoof on the ground. “You were there when Father disappeared!”
Argyle Note smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, Miss Tiara. There is practically nothing to go on. The princesses have sent investigators to the incident
“Well get Princess Twilight on it! She’s the princess of… you know… magicy smart stuff! She could figure it out.”
“We can’t just ask her to drop whatever she’s doing to help us.”
“We can and should.” Diamond Tiara nodded affirmatively. “It’s her job to be the big hero, and my mother and father need saving. Have you even tried to take it directly to Princess Twilight?”
“Of course. I was already told that she knew about this a few days ago.
Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count. You need to ask her directly for it.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
Diamond Tiara chuckled wryly. “Then you obviously haven’t done everything you can. Did you even know my father and mother? They knew how to get things done. And one part is taking it directly to Princess Twilight, so she cannot ignore me or put it off.” She affirmatively nodded. “You and I are going to take it directly to her. Today.”
Argyle furrowed his brow. “Actually, there was something else I wanted to do today.”
Diamond Tiara snapped her head to look at him. “Is it more important than finding mother and father?”
“Well, no but--”
“Then we should go to Twilight.” She looked up at Argyle with a determined expression. There would be no swaying her from this course.
Argyle sighed. “Fine. We can go to see Princess Twilight. But after that my family is coming into town for a lunch and I wanted to know if you were willing to come.”
Diamond Tiara strut forward, her nose up in the air. “I’m not sure how much time you’ll have for that once Princess Twilight is on the case for finding my parents. We will probably be in a flurry of actions that will take all afternoon, in order to find them.”
Argyle smiled, despite the brattiness, it belied a determined young girl, clearly her mother and father’s child. “Alright. Then we will go visit the princess first.” He leaned over into the room. “Plaid! We are going now.”
A dismayed cry came from the other room.
> A Rich Seapony Landing
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sand Castle opened his eyes to an unfamiliar expanse stretching above him. Obviously he always knew the sky was up there, above the surface of the water, but he was used to waking up to the marbled effect of the sun peeking through it, or at least to the thatches of his hut on the island.

But this… this big empty nothing was alien to him. He reached a hoof up to the sky. The huge blue expanse up here was inaccessible to him. There was no top he could swim to. He never spent much time up at the surface. It had unnerved him. If he fell up off of the ground, would he be able to catch himself? He would just float away forever…

The dull roar of the coast was interrupted with the sound of laughter, and he sat himself up. He was sore, both from sleeping on the sand and from pulling the sled from yesterday.

Looking around, he quickly saw the two former slaves and the pony that brought him here: Dawn Crest. She was the one laughing, and the stallion of the pair saying something with a smirk, while the mare rolled her eyes. They were joking around. Of course, he couldn’t understand what they were saying, as they were speaking in the strange language of the land ponies.

Of which he was about to embark onto.

He certainly couldn’t go back home, anymore. If he did, they would string him up for being a traitor, of which he was now one. He betrayed the orders of his queen. Even if it was probably the right thing to do. Even if the ponies of the fortress already treated him like he was on the bottom of the totem pole. Even if… he looked over to Dawn Crest. Even if he was just following her…

Well, no matter who she was, she was not the queen, and it was treason for her too.

She looked over to him, and smiled broadly. She called out to him, “Good morning, Castle! Come on over!”

He covered his uncertainty with a smile, and walked across the beach to the trio. “Morning.”

“Alright, alright, introductions! “This, is--” she said two words in their language, pointing to the stallion “--and--” she said two more words, pointing to the mare. “Their names translate to uh… well his is a saying that means he’s very wealthy, and hers is a saying that means she is too accustomed to wealth.”

He looked at the two ponies, both of them wearing tatters. The clothing… might have been nice, once. But where were the rest of their outfits? They were wearing an unusually small amount. Was this the way that ponies on the mainland dressed, in just something covering the front half of their torso? He had many questions.

Instead, he said, “That’s odd.”

She giggled. It was actually a very pretty giggle, and Castle smiled a little. “You know, it’s actually even funnier in their language, because both of them sound like insulting names, even though they mean something else. Apparently they were pretty important ponies back in their hometown.”

“So…” He nodded at the stallion and the mare. “Pleased to meet you <Filthy Rich> and <Spoiled Rich>.” The two of them nodded back at him, and Dawn turned to them, reciting what was probably the same speech to them.

These were the two ponies he left his life to save. They were captured, but are now free. Dawn Crest, too, had already left her life underwater for a life on land. He was the only one who had just left his home.

Dawn Crest finished an explanation, and nudged Castle saying something to him she obviously thought he could understand. He stared at her a moment, blinking. “What?”

“Oh, right.” She stuck her tongue out, winking. “My bad! It’s time for us to go. Let’s load up the little supplies we have. We’ll have to be on the lookout for things we can use to build tents and stuff, until we can’t find anyone to buy something from.”

“Where are we going?”

She looked out to the treeline, with the wilderness beyond that. “I’m not sure!” She gave a big smile, darting off to the current place the sled is, turning back for just a moment. “But I’m excited to find out.”

Sand Castle huffed a sigh. At least somebody was excited about this. He followed her, gathering the small amount of supplies they did have, packing up for the travel into the wilderness.






The group of four made their way through the lands. It was beautiful, nobody could doubt. Rolling hills and patches of trees dotted the countryside, but none of them seemed to be places for ponies to actually live, though. Nor did they indicate anything of the sort.
“So, where exactly are we going to?” Spoiled Rich said. “Nopony appears to live in this area. Do we have a plan to actually locate anything?”
Dawn Crest looked up in thought. “Well, I figure we need to get pretty far away from the water sled, because once the guards find it on the coastline they will start looking from there. Staying on the coastline’s no good, either. Beyond that--” She pronked just a little. “--we get to find out.”
Spoiled Rich made a dubious noise. “That is hardly much of a plan.”
Dawn Crest glared a touch at Spoiled. “Do you have a better one?”
“No, but I know more about what we need. We need food, we need water, and we need shelter. Do we have any plans for those things?”
“Well, if we can’t find any berries or grains, there’s always…” Dawn Crest looked down at the ground they were walking on.
Spoiled cringed. “On the grass we’re currently walking on? That’s disgusting!”
Dawn Crest shrugged. “It’s food, and if we’re hungry, beggars can’t be choosers.”
Spoiled turned up her nose. “I am no beggar.”
“Hey! It’s not my favorite either, but--”
Spoiled wheeled around to poke a hoof in Dawn’s chest. “So, I’m sure everyone would appreciate it not coming to that. Where are we going to go to fix this?”
Pushing away Spoiled’s hoof, Dawn rubbed her chest. “I don’t know. Buuut… I do know nature.” She puffed out that chest that was still aching. “I knew all sorts of things about the land underwater, and I’ve heard a lot from the patrols sent on the land about it.”
“... And?”
Dawn put a hoof on her chin. “Well, we’d have better luck in places with denser foliage, with more trees. We’d have better chance to scavenge some food there.”
The group then looked around again at the land around them. Pastoral countryside as far as they could see, with dottings of underbrush and trees in the distance. “You had better be right about this…” Spoiled said, and they made their way through the countryside toward the closest foliaged area.
Arriving shortly, they searched the area and shortly found a small bush with many small red berries. Dawn puffed out her chest. “See, what’d I tell ya. Easy. These are things that many land plants use to spread their seeds called berries.”
Spoiled Rich looked at Dawn Crest with half lidded eyes. “Yes, we know what berries are.”
Dawn laughed nervously. “Of course you do, you’ve lived up here the whole time, right? So, dig in.”
Spoiled Rich did not move to the bush, but Filthy crept up and poked the bush’s spiked leaves. “Do you know if they are safe to eat?”
Dawn blinked. “Could they… not be?”
“You must be joking,” Spoiled Rich spat. “Yes. They could be poisonous to ponies. Not to mention whatever else might be wrong with them on this Celestia forsaken continent. You said yourself you never were on land before, and it’s becoming clear you don’t know anything.”
“Look--” Dawn held up her hoof in a stopping motion. “I’m sure that’s an exaggeration. Why would a plant, who uses berries to spread seeds, make them lethal to eat. That doesn’t make any sense. Here--” Dawn immediately reached over, and plucked a berry from the bush, crushing it in her teeth. It was a little sweet and a little sour. Not too bad. “See. No problem.”
Filthy and Spoiled Rich shared a dubious look. “No offense, but we’d rather see if you have any problems before eating,” Spoiled said.
Dawn unlaced a small pack from her back, and started loading it up with berries. “Fine. And when they’re fine, they will be a great way to eat and you won’t have anything to worry about.”
“I sincerely hope you’re right, and you’ll be okay,” Filthy Rich said.
Dawn scoffed. “You shouldn’t worry about it!” She continued to pile berries into the bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sand Castle watching the exchange with a confused expression on his face. She turned, smiled, and gave a weak laugh, returning to the language of her birth. “Sorry about this, Castle. You must be very lost.”
Castle cast a glance at Filthy and Spoiled Rich, and looked back at Dawn. “Yes. What is going on? Are we picking fruits or not?”
“Yes.” Dawn nodded. “We are definitely picking these fruits.”
Castle walked over directly and started loading up one of his pouches with berries, pulling them off of berries. He moved to pull one out with his mouth, obviously about to eat it. Dawn’s eyes went wide and she smacked it out of his mouth, before he could chomp down. “No!”
Castle stepped back, his eyes in shock.
“Sorry! Sorry!” Dawn waved her hooves. “We just need to save these… for later!”
“O-oh.” Castle ignored the berry on the ground and focused on scraping the berries off of their spindly vines into the bag, his shoulders slouched.
“Right. Sorry about that. Just don’t eat any until I give the okay to.”






Dawn Crest marveled at the land world around her. She had been about this far inland before, when she was caught by the Queen, but she had never noticed how great it was. Everything was so green. And the sun was so yellow. She never knew the sun was so yellow.
She took another berry from her pouch and smashed it between her teeth. The sour sweetness was delicious, she had decided. She had also decided that there was nothing wrong with the berries. She felt fine.
She felt better than fine.
“Guys!” She hopped up forward, bounding to the front of their party, directly in front of Filthy Rich. “Today is wonderful!”

Filthy Rich backed up a step, raising an eyebrow. He opened his mouth but nothing intelligible came out.

“No no! I mean I feel great. We’re in a new world, a beautiful, wonderful world!” She raised up and spun on one hoof, landing back down on four hooves, facing back away. Surveying the world ahead of her, and all its verdant wonder, she smiled broadly. “I mean, just look at it!”

Filthy Rich blinked, and his mouth opened to unintelligible words again.

Dawn pronked forward, practically singing, “I can’t understand yooou.” She pulled out a berry and popped it into her mouth, bouncing the whole while.

Another voice came from behind her, a sharper feminine voice, and she looked back to the grumpy face of Spoiled Rich, who grumped over to Dawn, and grabbed her bag. The bag with the delicious berries in them! She showed the bag to Filthy Rich, who frowned too. Harsh.

The two of them started saying something but boy were they being hard to understand. The two of them kept looking at Dawn, too, and eventually started emptying out the bag! Dawn cried out. “No stop!” and reached for the bag, but they didn’t stop! Instead, she was stopped by the large hoof of Sand Castle.

“Dawn, what exactly is going on?”

She gestured to the two of them. “They’re dumping out my berries and won’t stop when I told them!”

Sand Castle furrowed his brow. “Dawn… you’re speaking in our language. They can’t understand you.”

Dawn looked up and around, as if she was searching for the answer, then started a low giggle. “Oh yeah! I’ve been speaking in that for a while now.”

“Dawn… do you feel okay?”

“I feel better than okay, I feel the best.”

Sand Castle continued to furrow his brow, and looked to the other two ponies with him, who gestured to the bag of berries, and made loopy gestures toward their heads. “Are you sure these fruits are alright? I think the other two are trying to tell me they aren’t.”

“Don’t you slander the good name of berries!” Dawn said, poking her hoof into Sand Castle’s very large chest. She followed it up and looked up at him. My goodness was he large. But the good name of berries must be defended, and she locked her jaw and glared at him, which he shrank away from.

Filthy Rich walked over to them, saying something hard to understand. But Dawn remembered this time it was a different language, and managed “What?” in that language. “I’m sorry, I’m having trouble.”

“We can’t stop out here, we need to find somewhere for shelter,” he said, slowly, this time. “Tell Sand Castle that.”

“Oh…” She relayed the message to my sea pony companion, who nodded his head at Filthy Rich. Not even at her. Rude. But, he did turn to her after that and say, “We should keep going, come on.” The three of them started back across the lands, and Dawn watched them for a moment, before scrambling after.
> A Rich Sunny Trip
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn trotted behind the three other traveling companions, but she paid them no heed, as she was busy looking at the world around her. The further inland they walked, the more amazing this land was. Bright green hills rolled around them, slowly undulating as they walked, punctuated by tall red pillars with cloudy green tops. In the sky a school of fish swam, darting around until they flew directly into the gaping maw of a blurry white whale, cleverly disguised as a flying plant.
Nearer to them, there was a huge rock, and on top of it was a small white coral blossom. She pushed off of the ground to swim up to the blossom, but instead of swimming up she just gently wafted off the ground a little, and slammed her chest then head into the ground, crumpling into a heap.
The world spun, and she could feel hooves on her, pulling her up.
“Dawn, are you alright?” a masculine voice said, in a familiar language. A tan and green pony was in front of her. Sand Castle. He looked worried.
“Don’t worry.” She smiled a big smile, pat him on his shoulder, and nodded.
He tilted his head in confusion as she let go and walked past him, marching back into the wilderness, in the direction the were headed. Filthy and Spoiled both gave her looks as she walked past them, and Spoiled leaned over to whisper something to Filthy.
Dawn’s smile waned. Whispers were bad. She turned around. “Well! Let’s get moving!”
The three of her companions all looked at each other worryingly, and Filthy said. “Well, at least we need to get moving to somewhere where we can take shelter, if we are going to let Dawn… well… sleep this off.”
Dawn forced out a laugh. “Come on, Filthy. I don’t need to sleep anything off. I’m feeling fiiine. Let’s get going.”
The four of them set off, one bouncing happily, the others looking at her, worried.






They were talking quietly. Dawn could hear them talking, but couldn’t make it out. She didn’t think they knew she could, or maybe they don’t care. Lots of ponies don’t care that Dawn could hear them, even if they talked about her.
She finally wheeled around. “Just what are you talking about?”
At least Filthy had the decency to look worried and blush, because Spoiled just glared at her. Filthy nudged his wife and said, “We were talking about where we should go next.” He pointed into the not-too-far distance where a large patch of trees laid nestled between two large hills. “We thought we would go to the edge of that forest there, and camp beside it.”
Dawn clapped her hooves. “Of course! Because it would be easier to scavenge for food there! Like I said.”
Filthy nodded. “And because it would be easier to build a fire there.”
“A what?”
Filthy Rich stared at her and Spoiled cursed under her breath. “Of course she doesn’t know what a damn fire is.”
“It… provides heat and light,” Filthy Rich said. “We can show you when we get there.”
Dawn hopped a huge hop. “Great! Let’s get going.”
A few more hours of travel later, the sun was starting to get low in the sky, and they finally reached the edge of the forest. As the Riches started rummaging around, Dawn stared into the forest. In the dusk light, it led down into dark paths, where the sunlight could not reach.
Dawn knew what that was like. The light of the sun didn’t touch everywhere underwater, the great forests of kelp, rocky underwater caves. Wild untamed places, far from the prying eyes of civilization.
Dawn Crest stepped into the shallows of the forest. She knew this kind of place. It was teeming with life, but she knew she could be alone here. She could see a few fish swimming above her, where she could not reach, in between the leaves of the kelp. She walked through, watching the splendor of nature.
Until she heard the whispers. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the hushed voice was familiar. She knew what was wrong, this forest wasn’t remote enough, and she strode further in, deeper into the dense foliage.
The whispers, however, followed her. She didn’t know what they were saying. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to care, so she took off at a trot. Behind her, ahead of her, always the whispers continued. She couldn’t escape them.
But she didn’t care what they had to say. About what they had to say about her mark. About her family. About her place in her family. She needed to escape it all, and her trot became a gallop. Faster and faster she ran, the last glimmers of sunlight fading in the deep woods, until she could hardly see her hooves in front of her.
Of course, she couldn’t see the ground either, so when it rather suddenly fell out from under her her, she fell forward, tumbling through the air for just a moment, and slammed on the thankfully soft ground.
She groaned as the world continued to spin from the ground. She tried to get up and almost immediately fell back down, her gut turning and churning. Pulling herself up into a sitting position, she glanced around at the faint patches of bluish light. The lights streaked and spun around the room.
Around here she could hear whispers and the rushing of waves. Something was here with her. Was it one of the guards? Some angry court rival? An assassin? She felt the presence draw close and she twisted around to flee, but the ground wasn’t done spinning, and she only leapt up to stumble and hit the ground again.
Something coarse was wrapped around her legs, and yanked. The world upended itself and the realization hit that this must have been the Queen’s agents. Taking her back, again, to use her for god only knows what. She thrashed and flailed, her hoof striking something with a firm knock, only to be rewarded with a knock to her head as well, and everything went dark.







Filthy Rich gingerly placed the last log onto his shelter. It was just a simple lean to, a log propped up on one tree at an angle with other logs forming a makeshift roof. It was simple, but he made it, and even if he had never built one before, he was sure it would be alright.
Looking over to his traveling companions, he saw the structure constructed by Sand Castle was much taller than his, and appeared to stand on its own. Underneath it there was a bed of leaves and greenery, that actually looked sorta soft.
Filthy looked back down at his own structure, and as if sensing his gaze, the larger log it was balanced on slid off it’s bracing tree, bringing the whole structure down. He breathed in deeply, let out a slow exhale, and plopped down on his butt.
A groan from behind him revealed that his wife had noticed, and he turned around. Her glare made it clear she wasn’t mad, just disappointed, as behind her a campfire grew. He smiled weakly, and changed the subject. “So, is Dawn sleeping off the berries somewhere?”
Spoiled’s grimace turned to curiosity. “No… is she in, uh, Castle’s structure?”
“I didn’t see her there… but…” He led the way over to Sand Castle, calling out his name.
Sand Castle turned to them, and reflexively said… something short in his language.
“Uh… Do you know where Dawn Crest is?” Filthy spoke slowly, as if that would help someone who doesn’t understand any words at all.
But, it apparently did just enough, as Castle responded. “Dawn Crest?”
Filthy nodded. “Yes! Yes.” He pantomimed looking around visibly. “Where is Dawn Crest?”
Castle looked just a little confused, and also looked around himself, calling out her name in his language. There was no response. Filthy and Spoiled Rich shared a concerned look, and the two of them started out canvassing the area to try to find her.
Filthy found hide nor hair of her. However, when inspecting the tree line, he saw that beyond the trees, there were broken branches. Broken branches happen all over the place, right?
But how many of them had a bright orange strand torn off in it.
Okay, so apparently he did find hair of her.
“Spoiled, Castle,” he called out, and the two of them joined him, and he held up the hair, and then looked back into the increasingly dark woods. “We would see her if she was out in the fields. But… we wouldn’t if she was down here.”
The three of them looked back at each other, then Sand Castle took a step forward into the darkness, only to be stopped by Filthy’s hoof. “We’ll need a source of light,” he said, and he picked up one of the thicker branches off of the ground, setting the top alight. It didn’t burn like he had seen torches burn, with the flames easily flowing over the tips, but it was burning, so he held it aloft in his mouth.
The three of them set off into the woods, Filthy Rich and his flickering light leading the way. The makeshift torch cast harsh shadows in the woods, and Filthy stepped quickly, but tried his best to keep his wits about him.
Beside him, Spoiled practically stomped down the path. “That filly has phenomenally bad timing. Wandering off, at night, into a damnable forest? What a moron.”
Filthy Rich sighed, the torch still in his mouth. He hated the way she said it, but they were in a pretty awful position, walking into this forest at night. This world already proved to be dangerous, and he was sure that this forest was no exception. He glanced over his wife and Sand Castle, trying to measure all of them up. He had a dagger tied around his midsection, and he knew his wife had one too, as well as a larger sword strapped to her side, all of which were claimed from the escape.
Sand Castle, though, had no weapons. None Filthy knew of, anyway. Unlike the two of them, Sand Castle wore full clothes, so he might have something hidden in his gear, but… what?
Filthy tried to say something, but he was muffled by the torch in his mouth, and instead he nudged his wife, who looked to him. Filthy motioned a hoof of his to the dagger he had tied to his midsection, and pointed to her, then to Sand Castle?
“What?” she whispered.
He pantomined drawing the dagger and passing it to Sand Castle.
She looked up and down the large earthbound pony, who was looking back with a confused look, and she drew and passed over her dagger to him, which he retrieved, grasping it with a hoof.
Sand Castle turned the knife over in his hoof, the blade reflecting the torchlight, and he brought it up to his mouth. The dagger was tiny in his rather large mouth, barely sticking out the side but he still nodded with a determined look on his face.
Filthy then looked around, taking a step one direction, before looking around again. He remembered the way they were coming, and he stepped forward across the clearing, finding that the next trace of Dawn was straight ahead.
“She’s went straight through these woods,” Spoiled said, stepping forward. “I’m not sure why, but at least it makes following her easy. Let’s go. We don’t know when or if she stops.”
They continued forward through the darkened forest at a faster pace. Around them the trees rustled. Filthy eyed them as they hustled through the forest. Was it animals? Monsters? Just the wind? He really hoped it was the latter of these, but he tried to put it out of his mind. The three of them were together, and hopefully they will find Dawn shortly and be able to fix that as well.
The sound of his wife’s voice and the touch of her hoof brought him out of his thoughts. “Hold on,” she said, holding out her hoof to stop him. “Look.” She motioned ahead and down. There was a steep drop off right here, with the ground below several feet down.
Filthy tried to say something, but he was still holding the torch. He grumbled from behind it. This was very frustrating. He needed to like strap it to his side or something, or be able to hold it with his hooves…
He very nearly smacked himself with those hooves, and set down the torch gingerly so the top wouldn’t touch the ground. With a word of power and a gesture, the increasingly familiar surge enveloped his hooves, and they glowed for a moment. “Okay!” He touched his hoof to the torch and held it aloft. “Do you think she fell down here?”
Spoiled peered down the cliff, trying to get a good view. Filthy reached out his hoof, stretching the torch extra far out. Spoiled looked back with a raised eyebrow, and Filthy smirked. He swore her eyes rolled before she went back and looked. “Yes. It looks like she fell down.”
Filthy looked down, dubious. “You think we can drop down?”
Spoiled Rich made a displeased noise. “I would be more worried about getting back up. But I suppose we could stack once the time comes. We don’t have much of an option. This is where Dawn fell and beyond it is where we would find her. So if we wanted to retrieve her...”
Her words hung in the air as she looked at Filthy pointedly, and Filthy came to understand what she didn’t say. They could leave without her. Not endanger themselves further in this forest. Maybe they could hope she comes back by herself, even, after falling off of this little ledge.
However... Dawn helped them out when they were in a hopeless situation, putting herself at risk when she absolutely did not need to. It would be awful of them to turn their backs on her now, and they didn’t even know that things were dangerous.
No. Filthy Rich was resolved. They would not be deterred by this pitfall. “Then let’s get going.” He looked back at Sand Castle, who was staring at the torch. Specifically where the torch stuck to his hoof, with a pale blue glow.
Filthy Rich winked and placed the torch back in his mouth, smiling. He sat down by the ledge and eased himself off of it, hitting the fortunately soft ground with a somewhat bracing thump.
> A Rich Shadowy Forest
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Filthy Rich held his makeshift torch aloft, on the lowered area. The sky had disappeared behind the canopy, and even the meagre light from the moon and stars could not reach, and the only light remaining was the flickering torch. He looked out, trying to see what was around them. The foliage and rocky walls did not open up into a clear path, only that going backwards was not an easy option anymore.
The sounds of his two companions hitting the ground had him wheel around, and he offered a steadying hoof for his wife to grasp to pull herself off of the ground. “Ugh, I should have known this was going to be dirty,” she complained, as she patted off her sides. “So, are we sure she is down here?”
Filthy Rich looked around, holding his torch up to illuminate the nearby area, and shrugged.
“Well, we came down here to what, see nothing?”
Filthy Rich’s protest was muffled by his torch, and he used his sticky hooves to take it out of his mouth and began to protest, when the deep voice of Sand Castle said something in the aquatic language. The couple turned to see him feeling around on the ground with his hoof, and Filthy held the torch down to illuminate the ground.
On the dirt there was the deep divot of a hoof pressed into the soil, and then, directed down one of the pathways, matted grass and grooves in the dirt. Spoiled and Filthy Rich knelt down and inspected as well. They both stood back up, and Spoiled announced. “Something was definitely dragged away from here.”
Filthy Rich looked at her. “Someone.”
A snort was the only reply.
Sand Castle stepped around the couple, and Filthy Rich caught his determined glare at the ground, ready to follow the path of what was presumably a dragged Dawn Crest.
Filthy Rich only looked to his wife, and replaced the torch in his mouth.
As they followed the dragging path, Filthy became aware of rustling in the woods. Was it the wind? His imagination? The light of his torch barely penetrated the dense foliage this deep into the woods, made only slightly better as they got away from the rocky walls.
He stepped lightly, his ears twitching. Every rustle and snapping twig only serving to drive his nerves higher. This land was a wild land. He recalled the childhood tales of the danger of the nearby Everfree forest. The monsters and beasts in it. Rockodiles. Cockatrices. Timberwolves. There was a crackle from his torch. Or was it from something creeping in the foliage?
Filthy breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly. It was no time to lose himself. He was their torchbearer. He had a dagger, he had his wits and he had… his powers. The words, the surge of energy. He already used it once tonight, for his hooves. He could feel the dim feeling of the magic holding on his hooves, even. He could feel it was still going.
And if things got dicey… he had his one more trick.
As they moved forward, he became aware that some of the shrubs around were skeletal, ragged things. Filthy got close to one, looking closely at it. He rarely saw dead trees like this, but he was sure that the Everfree was full of them. He shuddered, one more thing this forest shares with that place, and he quickly turned his head away, bumping the tree with his torch.
And the shrub recoiled at the torch’s touch.
Filthy’s eyes widened as the shrub in front of him shook and trembled, tearing itself out by the roots, it’s trunk pulling out as two legs, and branches folding down forward, as the top of the tree wrapped itself into a muzzle. The now four legged creature turned its face to Filthy, the bark wrapped in the clear shape of a face, and it suddenly opened its maw and screeched a loud piercing screech.
Filthy stumbled back, and the creature lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. The torch clattered  He braced his hooves up against the plant creature, holding it up as it thrashed around, screeching and yelling.
But before it could make a good connect, something connected instead with it’s side. A huge tan hoof slammed into its side, knocking it off of Filthy. Sand Castle jumped over him, into a ready position in front of the plant creature, as Spoiled joined Filthy behind him.
Filthy Rich picked himself up off the ground. “A timberwolf? Here?”
The figure now behind Sand Castle was illuminated clearly from the flickering torch that was  shrouded in shadow from the flickering torch. Getting a better look at it, the creature didn’t seem to have claws or a lupine head. No, this was a wooded plant creature in the basic shape of a pony. And it looked wicked, it’s wooden branches warped and wrapped to form it’s legs and body, ending in spiky endings, and what served as a mouth was jagged line, more resembling teeth than lips.
More wooden creaking resounded out from them, and they caught glimpses of two other plant monsters uprooting themselves from behind them. Oh dear. Filthy Rich couldn’t remember how many dead plants he happened upon but...
What if all of them were these creatures?
The rustling and creaking noises coming from behind them were not encouraging noises.
“We’re going to have company very soon,” he said. Sand Castle looked back with an inquisitive look. Filthy pointed to the side, where a tree was uprooting itself, and clearly enunciated, “More.”
Sand Castle glanced over, and he grimaced through the knife in his mouth. Something muffled was said from behind it, in time for him to catch something out of the corner of his eye, and jump back in time for the wooden pony to only land a shallow blow on his midsection.
Immediately, by instinct almost, Sand Castle’s muscular hoof snapped out, landing a blow in the center mass of the wooden pony. Fortunately either it wasn’t as hard as actual wood, or Sand Castle could break wood with his bare hooves, because it buckled and reeled back with the collision.
The dagger still laid unused in Sand Castle’s mouth.
Filthy Rich backed up, another two wooden ponies approaching from opposite directions. The three of them were stuck. The incantation flashed in his mind, for the wave of force. But… he couldn’t use it, because it would hit Spoiled and Sand Castle.
So he reached for his side, drawing the dagger they had pilfered from the sea ponies, and readied himself for the monster, gulping hard. It leaped hard at him, and he backed up, it’s hoof being brought down on his side roughly. It was lighter than he had feared, but the blow still stung.
After reeling, Filthy Rich whipped his head around, plunging the dagger into its shoulder. It shuddered and creaked, but no roar or screech came, and Filthy was shocked to see it didn’t have a mouth, only a gnarled bit of wood for a head.
It thrashed and writhed, swinging it’s hooves wildly and one of them flew and smacked Filthy on his head with a blinding kick. His vision went blurry and Filthy took a step back. He bumped into nothing, and a small part of him called out to observe the situation, as last he remembered he was basically directly next to his companions.
Looking around, he saw that Sand Castle was basically wrestling with his pony, beating it with a free hoof, and Spoiled Rich… had backed up, brandishing her blade menacingly and keeping distance between the two of them. Filthy was glad neither of them were doing as badly as he was doing.
But that was because he was the only one that took hits. The ringing in his head faded and he looked down to the wooden pony that was righting himself. Filthy grit his teeth. Aside from that chunk out of it’s shoulder it seemed no worse for the wear. He knew he had this… magic inside of him, but it was useless right now. Unless… there were more. Unicorns used magic in all sorts of different ways.
And there was one easy way they used it. Mental images of just pure magic shot from horns he had seen and heard of from unicorn heroes flashed in his mind. He had magic. That seemed like the easiest thing to do.
He pointed a hoof, and felt around inside of him for that spark of power. There needed no form, no special words, no gestures but his aim. He could feel it, and the power would come when he summoned it. It was his power, after all, and he called-no-he commanded it to come forth.
And came forth it did. Like an electric shock he felt it pulse down his hoof, and a beam of light blue energy shot out, blasting into the wooden pony ahead of him, taking another, larger chunk out of its shoulder’s bark.
As if it were shocked, the wooden pony reeled back, apparently looking at the now large wound on its shoulder. It tried to dart forward, only for it’s foreleg to collapse under its own weight, and Filthy Rich shot again, this time the beam striking it in it’s the side of it’s head, carving a hole in it.
The wooden pony, now without a head, slumped down and landed in a pile. Filthy felt his heart pounding in his ears. He won. He won against a monster in one on one combat. He breathed deeply as this fact settled in his mind, when the sounds of grunting brought him back to the present. Looking around he saw Sand Castle in the same good position, but his wife was still on her stalemate with her respective beast.
Filthy smirked, and pointed a hoof, shooting another lance of blue force at her adversary, blasting a divot into its side. She looked back, her eyes wide with more surprise. The wooden pony, however, was far less shocked. It looked back between the two ponies, the one brandishing a sword, and the other which had just shot something, and backed itself off, disappearing into the dark brush.
He turned back to Sand Castle’s fight, to find that he had finished his fight as well, the pummeled wooden pony laying on the ground. It definitely wasn’t getting up. The knife in his mouth seemed entirely unused.
“Is everyone alright?” Filthy asked.
Spoiled Rich sheathed the short blade she had. “I managed.” She looked entirely untouched, and her blade was pristine. Did she spend the whole time in a stalemate?
Filthy felt a smirk tug at his lips. She didn’t have to dirty her hooves, because of the power he commanded. He could swear he felt a dim thrum deep inside himself where before there was none. Would he always feel this way? Or only after wielding the power?
Whichever was true, it was a good feeling.
A muffled word came from Sand Castle, and the pair of them looked over to him, and he had tucked the dagger into his work clothes, and was holding the torch. He nudged his head over in the direction they had been following, and started walking that direction.
Filthy and Spoiled looked back toward the darkness they came from. Rustling could be heard, and they shared a look.
“Let’s keep going, we have a filly to find,” Filthy Rich said, and set off behind the large sea pony.
> A Rich Forest Fight
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn Crest ached.
As she stirred to awareness, she was jostled and jolted, the sound of rustling still sounded in her ears. She she pried her eyes open and was rewarded with a blurry swirl of dark landscape. She pieced it together she was moving, though, and the sound was coming from whatever was carrying her. She groaned and tried to rub her eyes, only to find that she could not. Her hooves were tied and bound, a thick rope of some kind wrapped around her whole body, and she was being dragged somewhere.
Each bump resonated in her head, which was pounding.
A voice sounded, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. A new voice, but the words… she forced herself to focus. It was the language of the land ponies, and she tried to look to the source of the sound, but she couldn’t face it. Or could face the voice but not see? Her brain hurt, so she closed her eyes and focused on the words.
“If the little one does not cause trouble, I suppose she can stay awake,” the voice finished. It was sonorous, talking deliberately and slowly. “Does that sound acceptable?”
The voice fell silent, and only after a moment did Dawn realize that perhaps she was looking for an answer. “Oh. Uh… yes?”
But instead a light giggle was heard, instead. “That wasn’t a question, it was more of… a warning.”
With those darker words, the voice finally sounded like it was up over Dawn, and she chanced opening her eyes open again. A dark figure loomed over her. Dawn only knew one pony that large. The Queen. Dawn felt her heart start to beat faster. How could she get here before us? What has she done? How did she know where to find us. She started to struggle.
The looming figure brought itself down, leaning over Dawn’s face. Closer and closer it came, until it was clear this was not the familiar face of the Queen. No, the muzzle was all wrong, tiny and wrong on her face, and the way it bent down was wrong, too.
“Now, what did I just tell you…” the voice resounded, and for the first time, Dawn listened. This wasn’t the voice of the Queen. Neither the harsher tones from public, nor the softer tones in private. Dawn felt an odd relief come over her. The Queen hadn’t kidnapped her again. Good.
No, it was a strange mare with the wrong shape in… she searched her memory. The underwater forest? No. That didn’t make any sense. What she could remember was fuzzy memories of frolicking underwater, and the queen pursuing her. Which made no sense.
“That’s better.” The singsong voice dragged her back to the present. She was in danger. Right. Yes. She opened her eyes again. Things were still blurry, but she gave a look around.
Above her still loomed the large form, dark gray in the dim light. Not looming over her were a couple some other forms, although these looked like ordinary ponies, one of which trailed several ropes to her.
And she could, far above her, see some distant dots, and a larger form, with cracks running through it. Was it the moon? Was the moon cracked? She tried to blink away the blurriness, each time it becoming clearer, until she could actually see. A huge tree stood above her, like the others, except instead of dense foliage in it, it was dead. None of the other trees touched it, either, leaving a clear view of the night sky.
“Look,” the voice said, addressing another form nearby. “She noticed our father.”
With that said, Dawn felt the ropes tighten around her, and she was dragged to the base of the tree and her back was pressed up against it. The large form moved closer to her, and with a crackling snapping noise she felt a series of piercing pain in her sides, and cried out.







The three in the savior party made their way through the forest, Sand Castle now bearing the torch. It was just as well, as nobody could understand him anyway. However, it was slow going now…
“This is impossible.” Spoiled Rich stamped her hoof, earning Sand Castle’s attention. “We have officially lost the trail.”
Filthy Rich shot his wife a glare. “So what do you suggest, dear? Should we turn around and leave without her?” Sand Castle’s head turned to watch.
Spoiled grimaced. “No… no we can’t do that.” 
Filthy Rich motioned to Sand Castle, still flipping his attention between the two, and made a motion to get him to lower the burning torch, which had become a rather large fire now. “So we keep looking until we find something.”
“While we wait for the stick-monsters to gather enough of themselves to come back and attack us in force.”
Filthy Rich just rolled his eyes and leaned down to look for clues. There was no use arguing with her like this, what would he say? Just a flat denial she was correct? Reiterating points he already made? No. Better to keep quiet. He sighed and returned his attention to the task at hand.
After only a short while of more searching, a scream rang out through the forest. Sand Castle’s ears perked and he stood up, facing the direction immediately. Filthy and Spoiled Rich both looked to him, and he looked back, uncertain.
Filthy blinked. The scream was clearly Dawn’s. This is the reason why they were here. In the flickering torch, held by Sand Castle, the uncertainty shone in his eyes. He was a very large pony, but he looked very young at this moment. Why-- no. There was no time to question what was going through the sea pony’s head. Filthy Rich nodded, and gestured over.
Sand Castle took off in the direction, galloping away, with Spoiled and Filthy in tow, and in short order, the treeline suddenly opened up into a clearing, lit with pale moonlight. Sand Castle burst into the pale clearing, his torch flickering, and Filthy was about to follow when he heard his wife from behind him. “No no no no. Stop!” she hissed, trying to yell and whisper at the same time.
He skidded to a stop, and looked back. “What?”
She gestured out into the clearing. “Look.”
He peered out from behind a tree, out into the clearing. Between the moonlight and the torch, it was pretty easy to see into the clearing, and that the clearing was not actually empty. There were several of the dead tree ponies in the clearing, as well as two that appeared to be of a different color, and a biped was standing near the only distinct landmark: a huge dead tree in the center of the clearing. It’s gnarled branches reached up to the sky uselessly, as there were no leaves to catch light. On the ground around them some roots could be seen in the ground.
And of course, Sand Castle had run right into the middle of the clearing, now with more than half a dozen plant creatures glaring at him. And beyond him, on the other side of the biped, was a pony, pinned into the tree across from them, branches wrapping around her.
He yelled for her in the seapony language, dropping the torch in his mouth, which hit the dusty ground with a dull thump.
“Dammit,” Filthy whispered. “Now what?”
“He got himself into a mess…” Spoiled said.
“Are you suggesting we leave him?”
Spoiled snorted. “No. It’s not an option anymore. Not a good option, anyway.”
Filthy snorted back, but said nothing about her selfishness. “So what, then? We can’t leave him there with no backup. He definitely cannot fight half a dozen of them.”
“And we can?” Spoiled hissed.
Filthy grimaced. The odds weren’t looking good. But perhaps… a bit of a plan formed in his head. “Maybe. But I have to wait…”







Sand Castle bit back a second yell, as he realized just what position he was in, as he was becoming increasingly surrounded by the strange brown ponies, and now the new less brown ponies. He looked around in a panic, and found that the couple that had been following him was missing, too.	
Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. Why couldn’t he have thought this through? He grit his teeth. But he did see Dawn. She was… well safe was an exaggeration, but she was alive, and he was here to save her. And that’s something that really mattered. He couldn’t waste time, right? Spend time wondering if he was too stupid to do it right? He had to save her.
So he allowed himself to yell, but not a yelp of panic, but an angry one, and he charged forward, directly at one of the green ponies, slamming into it hooves first. He bowled it over, pinning the creature as it cried out strangely.
Whereas the brown creature before splintered under his hooves, this one was supple and only buckled under the pressure of his body. It screeched at him from below him. He reared up his hooves to pound on it again, when from the side of him the second one struck, its appendage lashing out at him.
He stumbled to the side, turning himself to face the two green ponies, as the one on the ground pulled itself up. He threw a jab at the pony on its way up, connecting only a little, but he had to back off as the other swung a leafy arm at him.
Sand Castle took a step back, grimacing, as the two of them fanned out slightly. Where were the couple? He glanced around, only to find that the other brittle ponies had been surrounding him.
He cursed under his breath. He was being surrounded. Flight failing, his instincts fell upon the other option once more, and he rushed at the green ponies in front of him, landing a solid blow on their abdomen, only for green tendrils to lash out from them, wrapping around him.
He struggled and fought, landing shallow blows as they wrapped around him more tightly. The light from the torch seemed less bright, more distant, and out of the corner of his eyes he could see the other ponies gathering around him. He was surrounded, and he was alone. The vines tightened their grip, and pulled him down, and he braced himself, taking all his effort just to stay upright. The assailants behind him closed in, and struck his legs, and he collapsed onto the ground with a grunt.
They began to work their way around him, squeezing his breath from him. He struggled and wheezed, the group of assailants all crowding around him, choking out the small bit of light he could see.
A loud voice called something out, and he could feel just a touch of something in the air changing, before a boom resounded behind him, accompanied with a flash of light and the wooden assailants were thrown into the leafy ones. He was tugged slightly along the ground, but his bonds loosened, and he looked back.
Behind him stood Filthy Rich, a magic glow receding from the divots his spell dug out of the ground. Sand Castle struggled, finding his bonds much easier to loosen himself from, as he picked himself up.
The spell that threw the wooden ponies into them managed to put those wooden ponies in shambles, with broken limbs and cracked sides. None of them were in fighting condition any longer, but the green ponies were beginning to right themselves.
Sand Castle put himself in a ready stance, broad and stable. It was easy to slip into, having it drilled into his head. Something he really never thought would be useful, but, here he was, in this place, surrounded by strangers.
Trying to save another pony he never thought he’d be interacting with.
A light noise to his right alerted him to Filthy Rich, stepping up to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, and they shared a look. Filthy Rich just nodded, and picked up his hoof, pointing it at one of the now approaching figures, and blasted it with a blue light. The creature hissed as a chunk of its soft flesh was blasted out, but it only reeled back a slight bit, and continued advancing alongside the other.
Sand Castle snorted, and with a cry he launched himself again at the pony, lashing out with his hooves, slamming into the first one with a solid blow to its midsection. The plant pony lashed out with tendrils extending from its sides, starting to pull at Castle, who braced himself in the ground with one forehoof, punching with the other one.
The other pony bore down on him, striking him with whiplike lashes of the vines, and when he cried out in pain the vines won, yanking his hoof out in front of him. His chin hit the ground, and a beam blasted past him, striking the pony grappling him directly in the chest, causing him to reel back, a chunk blasted out of the front of it.
The vine lost its grip and Sand Castle slammed his hooves on the ground, pushing himself forward and up, his withers hitting the plant pony’s chest. With more effort, he shoved the plant pony up, its body raising up, ready to flip backward, when its vines regained their tautness, and it stopped its own fall.
It’s head flipped forward as it pulled itself back down, only for it’s chest to be met with a second beam, this one punching a hole clear through its body, and the plant pony finally fell into a crumpled pile on the ground.
From the side, the second pony made a horrible screeching noise, only stopped by a loud voice saying unfamiliar words. The plant pony backed up and aside it strode up a different sort of plant figure. This one stood on two legs, and appeared to be made of more than wrapped vines and bark. She called out a word to himself and Filthy, in the language he, again, could not understand.
Filthy did, though, and started to say things to her. She stepped forward, moving sinewy and gently, and Sand Castle stepped back defensively. She looked to him as if noticing him again, and chuckled, saying something directly to him, still in the language he could not understand.
She tilted her head, trying another word. And another. And finally, she said the word, “boy.”
Instinctually, Sand Castle’s ears perked.
“Oh good.” She smiled smugly. “A language he understands.” She seemed to stare at him expectantly…
“W-what do you want?” Sand Castle managed.
“I was hoping you’d be more amenable than--” she gestured to Filthy Rich “--your friend here.”
Another few seconds of silence followed, and the dryad sighed. “I was trying to come to an agreement, and he was being stubborn.”
Sand Castle, without moving his head, looked to the other sides of her. “... Alright… then… we came here for Dawn Crest, and we won’t beat you all to a pulp if you give her to us.”
The dryad laughed, a melodic sound, and she leaned over to Sand Castle. “I don’t think that you understand just what kind of circumstance you are in.”
“Wh-what do you mean?” Sand Castle said, feeling his ears burning, like she knew more than he did. “If you didn’t notice, we’ve been winning the fight.”
The dryad stood back up. “Have you?” At that moment she raised her hands up to the sky, and began to sing words, green energy collecting at her hands.
Sand Castle tensed up. Magic. He didn’t know what it was doing, but he knew he had to stop it, but as he reared back to punch he found himself restrained, as the plant pony had managed to get a vine around his hoof before he could even throw it.
The dryad continued her singsong spell, and Sand Castle looked around in a panic, finding that the previously destroyed plant monsters were all knitting themselves back together with the same green energy. And they all started standing up, and Sand Castle found his view dominated once more by the dryad.
“You see, little boy?” She smirked. “You have not won anything. And your precious mare has already been taken by our father,” she said as she gestured to the huge tree above her, then moved to the side. “And if she is not already dead, then she soon will be.” She held her hand out, directing Sand Castle’s attention to the base of the tree, and she looked over expecting to find her captive drained of her life.
But, all she found were empty gnarled branches.
> A Rich Blighted Dryad
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sand Castle charged the plant pony in front of him, bowling it over. The torch had been discarded, and he had spent just a moment uncertain, before the fight began in earnest, Castle and the plant pony trading blows.
However, Spoiled Rich simply watched from the tree line, none too eager to take part. Sand Castle clearly had not yet noticed the barked plant ponies began to surround him as he traded blows with the larger ones.
Filthy Rich began to take tentative steps forward. He began to creep up slowly behind them, as they themselves sneaked up on Sand Castle.
Spoiled snorted softly to herself, and followed suit, getting up to earshot of Filthy. “What exactly are you planning?”
“I’m waiting for…” he began, and the barken plant ponies, for their part, began to close in behind Sand Castle, as he duked it out with the two larger ponies. “-- them to move up close enough for me to catch all of them in one of my… I’m not sure what to call it. The magic I used back in the cave.”
He began to creep forward into the clearing, but Spoiled hung back. She was not eager to get into that mess. She spent another moment taking the situation in. Her husband was sneaking forward, making his way rather stealthily behind the bark ponies, waiting for his chance to ambush them. Sand Castle was not winning his fight with the vine ponies. Beyond them, that bipedal plant… thing was watching intently, apparently amused? Spoiled scowled. Just what was that creature capable of? Hopefully it thought that Sand Castle was alone, though.
And beyond that, pinned up against the tree, was Dawn Crest. With nobody even paying attention to her, as all eyes were on Sand Castle’s fight.
Spoiled Rich narrowed her eyes and a smirk appeared on her face.
She slunk back to the tree line, giving the whole fight a wide berth as she moved back to the tree, getting herself closer to it. There was a loud thunderclap as Filthy Rich entered the battle, blasting the ponies near him away.
Spoiled looked back. Her husband began zapping the larger ponies from his hoof, and she snorted. How unlikely was that? It was like something out of a story. The mild mannered businessman awakes to find he has magic powers? Ridiculous...
But, of course, also useful. Just what could she use powers like that for… Well, for certain what she would not use them for is for a dramatic confrontation in the forest in the night. She could imagine many subtle ways she could flex magical might… but she certainly would not dramatically point her hoof and use magical beams and thunderous spells.
No, once your opponent knew all you could do was that? A weakness, for sure. Never let your enemies know the extent of your abilities. Let them imagine you can do anything, while your real capabilities--your real limits--were unknown.
She got herself onto the other side of the tree, peering out at the fight, as that biped watched the fight with amusement. Filthy and Sand Castle were turning the tide, but the biped remained undaunted, and Spoiled scowled.
Like that. Spoiled had no idea what this mare was capable of, but it was clear her confidence was not broken by her companions apparently losing the fight. That was bad.
Spoiled slunk out from behind the tree. The biped was distracted and she had no time to lose, if she was going to free Dawn Crest, it was going to be now.
Spoiled made her move immediately. As the biped started engaging Filthy in a conversation, she made her way to Dawn Crest, pinned and wrapped up against the wall. Spoiled drew the dagger strapped to her side, and started sawing through one of the wooden branches that bound Dawn.
Dawn Gleam, being jostled by the sawing, started to stir, her eyes fluttering open. She began to moan, and Spoiled put a free hoof onto her lips. Her eyes snapped open and she stared down, Spoiled lightly shushing her, as she went back to sawing the branch.
When the dagger finally snapped through the first branch, she noticed that it wasn’t actually wrapping around her. The tip had pierced her skin, and she could see drops dripping from both ends of the severed vine. She didn’t need to be able to see what color the fluid was to know what was being drained from Dawn Gleam.
She took just a moment to look up at the gnarled tree, its branches looked dead and withered, no leaves were found on it. No other trees were near its canopy, either, as if all of them had fled its presence. She had a sinking creeping feeling as she realized this dead tree was very alive, and drinking Dawn’s blood.
From behind her, a voice called out “Enough of this!” Spoiled twitched with a start, sure she had been caught, but after a moment, the voice continued to speak, and it became clear it wasn’t talking at her. She looked back, and saw that Filthy and Sand Castle had whittled down their opponents to only one, and the biped stepped in then.
She shook her head. She didn’t have time to dread. She put the dagger away, and instead grabbed the first vine with her teeth, pulling it out. Dawn made a muffled hissing noise as Spoiled tore the vines out of her one by one.
After pulling out a full side, Spoiled got up to her side, pulling one of Dawn’s forelegs over her withers. “Alright, hangon tight, now,” Spoiled said, watching for Dawn to nod. Her grip was weak, but there was enough force to hold her steady as Spoiled pulled her from the other half of the vines.
Spoiled braced Dawn on her shoulder. “We have to hurry,” she whispered, and the two of them limped along, Spoiled making sure they were keeping to a brisk pace. The mare was heavier than she looked, and as she plodded along, shouldering most of the burden, she could feel her fur getting matted with blood.
“Come on, come on,” she said softly, trying to urge herself on as much as Dawn. She didn’t look back. There was nothing to look at. Either they made it to the tree line before the biped noticed, or she would turn back and notice them, and then they were as good as dead.
Dawn’s hoofsteps became little more than bracing, and the limping became closer to dragging. Spoiled pushing herself forward, the grip getting more awkward by the minute, her eyes focused only on the foliage ahead of her. Her chant became more of a mutter, spoken inbetween ragged breaths, and she forced herself forward, foot by foot.
Finally, she reached far enough into the tree line that she was securely behind foliage, and relaxed, losing her grip on Dawn, gracelessly dumping her behind a bush. She sat down, panting heavily.
She spent the moment looking over Dawn, but it was too dark to see anything specific. Huffing to herself she dragged herself over to Dawn, feeling her to inspect her wounds. Spoiled furrowed her brow. It was wet and sticky. Was she still bleeding? Or was this just from before? It was too dark and she knew too little about this to tell.
Dawn’s eyes fluttered open, and she moaned a little, stirring again. An eye cracked open, and it looked down at Spoiled.
Spoiled didn’t look up. “I hope some of your strength is returning, because I don’t think we have too much time left.”
Dawn mumbled something again, and Spoiled snapped her head up to look. Dawn was, just for a moment, focused on Spoiled, before the eyes wandered, and her hoof went up to her head, holding it for a moment. “I… hard…” she mumbled.
Spoiled grit her teeth. What a useless filly. It was all her fault that she was possibly on death’s door, and her husband was busy fighting for her life, and they were stuck in a terrifying forest with plant monsters trying to kill them.
She opened her mouth, only to hear a high pitched screech, and Spoiled’s mouth clamped shut. She peeked around the tree, to see the tall biped staring back at the place Dawn used to be, and the rest of minions were, unfortunately, also standing up. The biped was now pacing back and forth, with her minions watching her.
And nobody watching her husband and Sand Castle. But, she noticed, Filthy was not watching the biped, he was looking around. She put more of herself out of there, waving her hooves above her head, and saw him see her. She motioned him over, and he grabbed the back of Sand Castle’s work tunic, and gestured to him to go.
The two of them started creeping, somewhat slowly, and Sand Castle moved down, as they ran aside, to pick up their makeshift torch. Spoiled grimaced. The shadows of the plant creatures were all moving, but they hadn’t seemed to notice, and her companions continued their careful movement toward her.
She pulled back behind the tree, starting to lift Dawn up. “Come on… we’re going to give you to somepony who can actually hold you.”
She was shifting around when she heard another cry from the singsong voice. A few moments later Sand Castle and Filthy burst out from the foliage line, continuing to run. “Waitwaitwait!” she cried out, and the two stopped and looked back. She wrenched herself forward, pointing at Sand Castle. “Take her.”
He looked at her wide eyed, the shadows of the torch casting a wild look at him.
Filthy came to her aid, though. “We can’t wait. You’re right, Sand Castle needs to take her.” The two of them quickly shifted Dawn Crest onto Sand Castle’s back, and Spoiled snatched the torch from Sand’s mouth, it dropping on the ground near them.
The plant ponies burst from where Filthy and Sand did just a few seconds ago, making angry roars. The three ponies all took steps back, having precious few feet between them and their enemies.
“Blow them away like before,” Spoiled ordered to her husband. “Hurry!”
“You’re closer than they are,” he hissed. “You wanna get thrown into a tree?”
The plant ponies took a step forward, and Spoiled stepped back. “Then shoot them or something, right? Figure something out. You’re the pony with the magic.”
There was more rustling, and Spoiled grabbed the torch from the ground as the rest of the plant ponies began filing in followed by the tall biped. “Aww. I see none of you got too far.” She smiled at them, a too wide smile. “And I thought you mighta been clever. I’m happy to see I was wrong.”
Spoiled glared at the plant creatures, the three of her companions backing up slowly, and she caught a glimpse of her husband, as the light flickered on his face. She thought… she saw gleam in his eye, and what appeared to be a cocky, wicked smile on his face. He reared up onto his hind legs, but instead of bringing them down, he shouted a different magical word.
A bright light appeared at his hooves, and from it a fan of flames erupted, blanketing the plant creatures, from pony to biped, in a sheet of flame. The lot of them screeched and roared, and Filthy Rich, the light flickering on his face, still, held an unreadable sinister expression.
“We have to go!” Spoiled shouted, breaking him out of the moment, and the three ponies and one hanging on all wheeled around and took off into the dark forest.
The three of them, with Dawn holding on, galloped away from the flames, not knowing exactly where they were going, only that the closest edge of the forest was this way. The forest flew by as they thumped loudly. There was no clear path, but none of them cared as they trampled straight through, leaving a wake of underbrush.
Spoiled’s legs began to burn as they ran, and she huffed, and she looked back. It was dark, and nothing but a dim light could be seen from the direction they came from. “Hold,” she puffed out. “Hold on…”
The group slowed to a halt, and Spoiled lay against a tree trunk, breathing heavily. She looked to her husband, who was puffing just about as hard as she was, but was in fact, looking behind them, staring into the woods as well.
She turned back to it. Nothing seemed to be moving. No sounds could be heard except some distant crackling or wind rustling. No more screeches or horrid noises from the plant creatures.
“We should get going,” Filthy Rich said, and Spoiled looked back at him. “I think we’re in the clear.”
Spoiled nodded and turned away from the flames in the distance, only for just a flicker of light to stay her. She looked back, and there was but a small ember that could be seen on the trunk of a tree. She tilted her head, because it seemed just a little far for a stray ember to make, but that’s all there was there, so she turned away, and began to follow Filthy and Sand Castle.
But only for a short while, before a tree in front of them began to contort, and from it, a figure emerged, coming straight out of the bark of the tree itself.
It was the dryad from before, and she had seen better days. Her once smooth green skin was cracked and burnt, and something still inside her glowed with a burning ember. She carried a gnarled piece of wood as a club. She opened her maw and roared, a great screeching thing which seemed to shake the trees around her, and swung her club at Sand Castle, the foremost pony, colliding with his side and sending him and Dawn Crest sprawling on the ground.
Before anyone could react, she also invoked a magic word, and vines sprouted from the ground, wrapping Sand Castle up in vines. Spoiled grit her teeth. Sand Castle was, well, had been, proving to be a tough fighter. Someone she definitely would want in between this monster and her.
And Dawn Crest would be useless, still half hopped up on wildberries and delirious from bloodloss--if she were capable of fighting in the first place--which meant the only real fighter that was left was…
Filthy Rich shouted a magic incantation, and a fresh wave of flame burst from his outstretched hoof, washing over the burning dryad, who screamed, but instead of rearing back, pressed forward, her club glowing sickly green as it collided with Filthy Rich’s side, but he wasn’t sent onto the ground.
Spoiled stared at the scene, but didn’t have time to consider her options, as she fumbled with the sword strapped to her side. Managing to pull it out, she held it out, looking warily at the fight, in front of her.
The second swing of the club barely whiffed over Filthy’s head, and he pointed his hoof again, and Spoiled could feel the hot wave of fire from where she was. The figure, however, was undaunted, swinging her club, landing a shallow hit on Filthy.
She was also, however, distracted.
Spoiled whirled around and darted to where Sand Castle was tied down, only to find that Dawn had crawled over to him, and was already sawing through his vines. Spoiled knelt down and cleaved through several on the opposite side, and he pulled himself up
One more time, Filthy shouted the magical incantation… but Spoiled’s ear simply twitched. There was no flash of light, no burst of heat. Spoiled turned around to see Filthy still on the ground, his hoof outstretched. He shouted the word again, but no fire was produced. He shook his hoof in frustration, shouting the word a third time.
The plant woman above him let out a ragged laugh. “All out of magic? What a pity.” Her voice was no longer the singsong thing of beauty, but harsh and gravely. Her hand glowed as she said her own magic incantation, the vines growing from the ground to wrap up Filthy. “I was worried for a moment.”
She raised her club, just in time for Sand Castle to collide with her side. She stumbled but was not taken down, and she whipped around to slam her club into him. She growled and started to incant a spell again, only to be rewarded with a swift headbutt to her midsection, knocking the words out of her mouth.
The clumsy swing came back to Sand Castle, missing again, and he swung his hoof, missing her. She backed up, getting a little distance to swing at, and he also backed up. The two of them circled each other, only taking tentative strikes. The dryad limped as she moved, some of her foliage still on flame from Filthy’s attacks, but her glowing club was still menacing, and Sand Castle visibly panted. 
It had been a long night.
Spoiled looked on, her teeth gritting around the sword she held in it, until a bit of movement caught the corner of her eye. Dawn was struggling to stand, her eyes fixed on the fight in front of her, a dagger in her mouth.
She couldn’t possibly be trying to go out there, Spoiled thought. She’s weak from blood loss, for Celestia’s sake. She’s more liable to get in the way than help. Someone to help the fight would at best be fresh and…
Spoiled narrowed her eyes and squeezed the sword in her mouth. She had hoped… well it didn't matter. It wouldn’t be the first time she stabbed something, after all.
The circling of the two combatants continued, and the biped swept around so her back was to Spoiled, and Spoiled slid forward, creeping up behind her. She brought her head back and swung the sword to the bottom of the creature’s abdomen, underneath where she would guess a rib cage was, and the sword slid straight through the soft flesh, lodging itself in her target’s body.
The dryad screeched and writhed, the sword now embedded her back. But, amazingly, she did not fall, but instead lashed out clumsily with the club behind her. Spoiled tried to spring back, but was too close and the club landed a solid hit on her side, sending her sprawling.
She collided with the ground, gasping for breath. The figure above her screeched again, and she winced, ready for another blow. This was the damn reason she didn’t want to be in a stupid fight. But no blow came, and she pulled her head up with some difficulty.
The sword, sticking out of the front of her abdomen, was being wrenched inside of her by Sand Castle, gripping it with his mouth. She made strangled garbled noises, and when he released the sword she collapsed to the ground.
Spoiled pulled herself half up, with some difficulty. Her sword was embedded in the plant woman in front of them. The plant woman who had taunted them, threatened them, presumably was responsible for Dawn Crest’s blood loss at that huge dead tree. The plant woman who did all those things while clearly a… thinking… living… intelligent creature.
And she lay there, motionless, her life bleeding out of her.
Spoiled lost the strength in her forelegs and fell back down. Her side ached. Even one hit was enough to do that. They couldn’t… afford a protracted battle. They simply couldn’t. Nothing more could be heard, though. No creatures coming after them from the forest. No twitches from the woman on the ground.
It was over.








Deep in the forest, the dead tree sat, with but a few servants remaining. So many of his children were dead today. Burnt, smashed, stabbed. And his dryad was dead. He could feel it.
The few remaining servants were standing vigil, watching the trees around him burn. He could hear their wordless screams, and it pleased him. For too long they surrounded him, not able to reclaim the blighted ground he stood upon, but also preventing his roots from spreading, their oppressive life stunting his own unlife.
But tonight. Tonight they burnt.
Convenient that they gave him the wide berth they did.
And on tonight, of all nights, right after he had sipped the blood of a fae. It was precious little, but it was enough. Enough that his servants would have new brothers and sisters in the coming fortnight, born of the very trees that the fire would destroy. More than the children he lost.
His wordless chuckle echoed throughout the forest.
> A Rich Thirsty Walk
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party trudged their way out of the forest, coming out in a new location. Filthy Rich surveyed the land, dimly lit by moonlight. It was probably on the same side of the forest as they were before, but it was too dark and he was too exhausted to tell.
He couldn’t see any smoke, but he knew there was fire, and they trudged far out of the treeline, by some rocks, to make sure that the fire couldn’t spread. At least not easily.
Spoiled was the first to collapse down to the ground, exhaling deeply. Sand Castle let Dawn down gently, staying up, and Filthy Rich allowed himself to come down next to his wife.
The enormity of the whole night came down on him like a crash. His body ached both with exhaustion and with no doubt bruises from where he was struck by the various plant monsters tonight. And not only plant monsters, but also the plant… woman. The now-most-certainly-dead plant woman. A sour feeling welled up in him. He burnt her. He might not have done the final blow, but he burnt her so many times. He undoubtedly contributed to her death. He probably contributed the most. So even though Spoiled snuck around, and Sand Castle had proven himself to be tough, Filthy felt he was responsible for this death. The death of a thinking, feeling, intelligent creature.
… But she was trying to kill them. She was. She had even followed them. She could have left them alone, let them escape.
He looked over to Spoiled. That was the same logic she used back in the cave, when he asked them to patch up the slavers who attacked them. But they… they had the power to tie them up and leave. This fight didn’t… really have the chance to do that, did they?
Was the situation really that different? Or was he just telling himself that...
“So.” Spoiled broke the silence. “Dawn, are you sufficiently sober to hold a conversation?”
A moment’s pause, and a small “yes” came from Dawn, on the ground.
“Good,” Spoiled pulled herself up and walked over to Dawn, looking down on her. She took a deep breath and… “Just what exactly were you doing?!”
Dawn cringed away. “I-I…”
“You got yourself high on some sort of berries, then pranced around into the deepest darkest corners of a forest in the middle of the night, and almost get all of us killed.”
Dawn shrank away further.  “S-so--”
“And to make matters worse, it’s not like you contributed to the battle, since you were weak from bloodloss and your own stupidity.”
“Spoiled,” Filthy said, starting to pull himself up, despite his soreness.
“In fact,” Spoiled began to shout. “Maybe we should have just left you there to die. It would have served you right--”
“Spoiled!” Filthy spun Spoiled around with a hoof. “What are you doing?”
She brought herself up to her husband, gritting her teeth. “I am making sure this mistake will not happen again.”
“Is that what this is?” Filthy stepped back. “Because it looks an awful lot like you’re just taking out your frustrations on her.”
“My justified frustrations,” Spoiled said. “She nearly got the lot of us killed tonight.”
“The plant monsters almost got us killed, Spoiled. She was loopy from berries and we didn’t even make an effort to watch her.”
“Well she shouldn’t have been eating them in the first place! We had no idea if they were safe.”
“No, but neither did she. None of us knew what was safe or unsafe! The issue was that there just happened to be monsters in the forest, accidentally eating unsafe berries is hardly an issue on it’s own.”
Spoiled opened her mouth to continue, but was interrupted. 
“I’m sorry.” The two of them looked down at Dawn Crest, who breathed a heavy breath. “I’m… sorry. I should have known better. I don’t know enough about the land… I should have been careful, and I wasn’t. And you’re right, this is all my--” her voice faltered. “My fault.”
Sand Castle leaned down, a concerned look on his face, and he softly said some words in the seapony language. Dawn responded with a few words, and he leaned back up, his worry not abated.
Spoiled and Filthy shared a look, and Filthy steeled himself, giving her a look.
She rolled her eyes and looked away. She wouldn’t pursue this, but he was sure it wasn’t done.
That was fine. “Then let’s all get some sleep.”
One by one they all laid down, and the exhaustion of the night caught up with them.








Filthy woke up to aching. His legs ached, his neck ached, but most importantly, his side ached where the monster last night landed the worst blows. He cracked his eyes open. Morning was in swing, but he didn't want to move. A day laying down would be perfect, right about now. Then his stomach grumbled. It had been more than a day now, since he ate. Food was necessary, and nobody would come around to serve it to him today.
So he wrenched himself up. His companions were still asleep, but the sun was in the sky and the birds were chirping. He cast his eyes over the forest they were on the edge of. The fire apparently did not spread very far, as there was no smoke or light. But this was still the forest with the plant monsters in it, and they had to leave. He nudged his wife, and she began to stir, and his shuffling started to rouse the sea ponies.
Dawn pulled herself up and said something in the sea pony language.
Filthy Rich tilted his head. “What was that?”
“Ah,” she said, transitioning to the language Filthy was familiar with. “I said… I feel drier than I ever have. My throat feels it, too.”
Filthy made a face. “You never had to worry about drinking before, did you?”
“Drinking? I mean we… swallow water when under it, but... “ She looked around, her eyes wide with realization. “Oh no. Up here you… you could go weeks without seeing water, and not drinking in that time.”
“Hmph. not likely.” Spoiled’s voice rang up from the ground, as she stood up. “You die if you don’t drink for a few days.”
Dawn Crest blanched. “Oh… that’s no good.”
Filthy clopped his hooves together and, ignoring his sore body, stood up. “So, that means our first order of business is to find water. Then find food.”
Nods were exchanged, and the plan was set.









The four of them walked in silence for a long while. The direction was chosen mostly at random. After the adventure in the forest, nobody had any useful bearings anymore. They chose a landmark, somewhat in the distance, that appeared to be a raised hill, and had decided to use that as a vantage point. Almost any water would be better than nothing.
So they walked. And there was quiet. For a while, at least.
“So,” Dawn piped up, hopping up into the air a little. “Filthy!”
Filthy looked to her, a little surprised at her tone. “... Yes?”
“For how long have you known how to use magic?” she said, chipper as two days ago. She wiggled her eyebrows. “How long were you sitting on that before the escape?”
“I… well…” There’s no real secret in this, he figured. “I figured out I had them during the escape itself. I didn’t even believe that… I had no idea I could use magic in that way. That it was even possible.”
She laughed. “Awesome. There’s no better time than to awaken to hidden magical powers than the absolute moment you need them.”
Spoiled made a displeased noise. “Yes. A convenient coincidence, isn’t it?”
Filthy smiled to hide his grit teeth. “Of course. It made the escape possible, didn’t it?”
Spoiled simply snorted.
“Maybe it’s not so coincidental,” Dawn said. “Does it run in the family?”
Filthy blinked. “Does… what run in the family?”
“Magic powers. Do they run in the family?”
“I… no,” he said. “I don’t have any unicorn in my family. Not that I know of, anyway.”
“I’m just sayin’.” Dawn shrugged. “You don’t have a book or anything, and you don’t seem like you pray to any gods, and some people are just… born magical, and it tends to run in the family.”
“Born with magic?” Spoiled Rich looked to her husband, her gaze like daggers. “As in just something he… has, at random? Powerful useful magic?”
Filthy Rich wondered what exactly she was getting at. The powers were obviously good, and he opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Dawn. “Sorcerers. We have em down underwater. Just every once in a while someone’s born with magical powers and doesn’t have to study or dedicate themselves to anything to get them.” She looked back, a very broad smile on. “Pretty lucky, huh?”
“Yeah,” Spoiled Rich said, venomously. “Lucky.”
Filthy Rich snorted. If she wanted to be in a foul mood about something, she could be. 
Dawn piped up again. “So what kinda powers do you have?”
Filthy tried to keep his lips from twisting up in a smirk, but didn’t try very hard. “Well, I could arrange for a demonstra--”
“He’s got what you saw last night,” Spoiled Rich said, interrupting him. “And didn’t you run out rather abruptly in the middle of a fight?”
“We’re hardly in danger now, dear, are we?”
“We literally got in a terrifying fight after we thought we were done traveling last night, honey,” Spoiled spat back. “I think until we actually are sure we are safe, it’s a bad idea to exhaust whatever that is, if even you still can.”
Filthy snorted again. Exhaust his powers? No, he clearly felt them humming beneath the surface. He did, right? He stopped walking to hold up his hoof and pointed it away from him. He willed the energy to his hoof, creating a small beam that wound up blasting a small patch of dirt up.
“Nope,” he said, staring at his wife. “Still there.”
These were his powers to command, he added, inwardly.










They reached the top of the hill right as the sun crested it’s highest, hottest point. Filthy Rich knew he was hungry, but the hunger pangs had subsided, for now. Thirst was worst, and he knew they needed to find some source of water, but that it must not be too far away. Animals survived in places like this, finding water, right?
He looked out onto the vista. He could see what he thought was the coast to one direction. They might be well served to go back, as following the coast would naturally find them at a river sooner or later. Or maybe a city, if this world… even had cities.
The familiar Canterhorn was missing, instead to the left there was a smoking mountain. He could see the forest they came from from here too. He kept scanning the horizon, there must be something in the area, but there was a lot of area to scan.
“Filthy!”
He turned to face Dawn, who was calling for him.
“Here, I see… something!”
Filthy blinked a little as she pointed excitedly, but came over to her.
“I see… I thought I see some water? But… okay, look.” She stood closer to Filthy and pointed out on it. “See there? There are a buncha trees, but they stop, and there are more on the other side? I think I saw water...”
Filthy Rich held himself up, standing up on his hind legs. What must have been a river cut out to the… was it east? Was it south? He wasn’t paying attention to the sun, and it’s not obvious today. But what was important, was…
“A river.”
“Is that what they’re called? Is that a normal thing?”
There was a snort from behind him. “Of course it is. Without water life would have a hard time springing up,” Spoiled Said, walking up, taking the same height. “Looks like you’re right.”
Dawn smiled, a little too broadly. “Great! Let’s go!” She immediately hopped up, trotting down the hill. “Rivers are cool!”
Filthy and Spoiled shared a look of bewilderment at the… strange reaction to belittling Dawn had, though. They looked at Sand Castle, as if he has some answers, and he blinked back at them, either as shocked as they are, or nervous from the staring.
“Do you think, in addition to being simpering, he’s a simpleton too?” Spoiled said, casually.
“Spoiled!” Filthy admonished.
She waved a hoof and began walking the same direction as Dawn. “Oh, it’s not like it’s going to insult him. He can’t understand us, remember?”
Filthy followed after her. “That doesn’t make it alright. It’s still disrespectful.”
Spoiled continued forward, not apparently paying attention to his concerns, and he snorted.
Sand Castle started back up, catching up with Dawn Crest, apparently none the wiser, Filthy noticed, to his displeasure.







It was late in the day when they reached the river. And what a river. He couldn’t see it too well from the hill, but he was more suspecting a small river, but instead this was a very large one, with beautiful clear water and foliage lining it.
Filthy walked straight up to the river, nearly dunking his head in. He hadn’t realized just how… thirsty he was, and he drank the delicious cool water greedily. He pulled his head out of the water with a sated ahh sound, after he was done.
The sea ponies both almost immediately dove into the water, reveling in swimming, and Filthy sat down, looking around. Trees and verdant grasses. With water covered, he wondered if any of the grasses or flowers nearby were edible. It wouldn’t be a treat, but it would be food.
But for now, things seem like they’re looking up, and as he scanned the area there was more to come, as coming down the river to them was a broad flat ship.