> Highfire's Great Big Mailventure > by KVFFour > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1: Trainstation, Pegasus, Oops. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It’s said that Green Highfire Lines (Green to anybeing he introduced himself to) was excellent at anything, all the way to screwing the thing up. This was half the truth. His cutie mark was vague and his best talent thus far had been improvisation, or the art of the confidence trick. The Neighponese Battle Drill comes to mind; developed by a heir to a throne of which both have been lost to all but the Diarchs’ memory, it involved one overcoming guard patrols of one’s objective by imitating a superior and browbeating the guard patrols on their readiness. Of course in practice, this has some issues, notably of which is when you run up against the limits of lying one’s flank off, or the drillees becoming wise. In the heir’s case, that one eventually made the guards into shining exemplars, which was very odd as they were previously known to be somewhat slovenly. As it turned out, a superior officer noticed them on watch and asked what caused their sudden improvement. They replied another superior officer had been checking in on them at night. Curious, the officer accompanied them, and discovered the heir. Depending on telling, the heir was sent home in good grace, or the subject of that one’s affections was indeed the officer. === Sighing, the young stallion made his way out of the station shelter. While in the larger cities and most towns they’d have pegasi patrolling and keeping the weather clear, Velkaville had a Skyguard Squadron whose main job was to keep the clouds from killing anypony. Generations of Velkaville’s finest had blasted, pied, lambasted, vaporized and in one case, pleaded with, the feral weather systems to cease and desist, with the end result being little except for the town library rapidly filling with weather-control literature of excellent quality. Green was, in a word, out of roads to run up. He’d talked and… Stretched the truth into every job, from farrier to medic to even a gunsmith’s forge. With every job fewer had offered a job with the resulting catastrophe. I’m pretty good at ducking now, at least, the gently greened stallion thought. About the one thing he had to be proud of was his well honed reflexes; after dodging various pastries, assorted hoof-weaponsfire, and the occasional anger propelled flowerpot, he’d gotten pretty good at it! Well, one of two. The other was a decent coat; it had his father’s gray with just a dash of green. The rude might say his fur looked like it was washed out but he thought it paired well with his mane, which he kept at a military crop for… Well, reasons. Mostly to prevent whistles and solicitations. …if this keeps up I might just consider a brothel. I mean, c’mon Green, you’re a strapping young stallion with a face that folks’d kill for! He considered his reflection in a puddle a little while further, then snorted. He’d inherited quite a lot from his mother, including an easy to keep mane, her fairly tough composure, but unfortunately, also the looks of a mare. Apparently, it was to the point where the doctor had to hastily scribble out an s when signing his paperwork. Sighing, he went to sit down for the train, working one wing and then the other. Can’t let those exercises slip Green, you gotta beat Azure when you see her again! “Pfft. Maybe.” He sighed again, frowned, and resolved to stop doing that. It was a bad habit that he’d almost kicked, damnit! After about a minute, the pegasus opted for the age-old respite of anyone with nothing else to do: Rubberneck. So, he cast his eyes about the station. It was old, but holding up strong; Code Maker’s handiwork. A smile pulled across his face at the thought of the stubborn old stallion, who’d done a year in the Guard, and come back with an architecture degree of all things. Velkaville was like that. Village full of madfolk, griffish and pony alike. Small, sure, but it had the sort of people that knocked the socks off travelers… Once literally. He shuddered. The Custard Maker 7500 had lead to its product being classified as a weapon in village limits for good reason… Distracted as he was by the haunting battles for pastry supremacy and the screams of the unfortunate tourists that’d been in town, his eyes roamed further. “Huh. Who left this here?” He blinked, and leaned over. He could’ve sworn the seat was empty when he’d sat down, but here was a saddlebag with an umbrella and… “A glamour?” Green considered. He’d gotten decent grades in Basic Magic and Advanced Spellcraft, but by necessity he’d been kept out of all but Runic Fundamentals and later nearly flunking out of Runeforging I. Still, even to his eyes this wasn’t anything to be trifled with. Then again, poking magic usually results in expensive naps and waking up to a nice nurse. The pegasus made a few false starts, as curiosity and common sense had a four round boxing match somewhere north of his brain stem. Eventually, curiosity got the knockout like it always did, though by an increasingly slim margin. “Someone with an awful lotta skills and bits made you, huh?” Carefully extending a hoof, he made contact… Nothing. “…huh. Just a bag.” With some searching, he found a seal, faded but still standing boldly against the sturdy canvas. “R-E-M-S?” The insignia helped jog his memory; then again it did have an envelope sitting on it. “Royal Equestrian Mail Service?” All told, it was a very good bag… …and somepony might well pay good money for me giving it back! Green grinned. “Buck me sideways, we’ve got a START! Haha!” The young stallion cheered, and then glanced around to make sure he was alone… Before breaking into a silly little dance that he’d swear up, down, on the sun and moon that he’d never done except for once in his life when he was a little colt and really excited for Hearth’s Warming day- === The train arrived, and as per usual there were only ones coming off. Green checked his ticket carefully. “Appleloosa, here I come…!” he said under his breath, quickly heading into Car No 3. In the meanwhile, a little red light appeared on a very big board, unnoticed for the moment. > Chapter 2: Weather, Zebra, Encounter. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Aw, horseapples.” Green sighed, and resolved to never try helping if he could… Well, help it. You’d think you’dve learned a lesson, but no. Just had to try helping the nice mare running the train. And she was so nice too… The cross-eyed mare had an incredible temper, though. Which, of course had lead to him being thrown off the train with a water bag and some food. He’d certainly make it to Appleloosa in… Maybe two weeks. “Your train was bucking slow anyways!” Grumbling a few curses best not repeated in company of his somewhat elderly family, the young pegasus spread his wings and decided to make a few kilometers in the sky. === “Shit shit shit shit-” A storm had swept in. The west was covered with thermals and so he’d dozed off in a glide, trusting his instincts, which had pulled him up just as a bolt of lightning blew by horrifyingly close. Now, it felt like what he figured flying in a hurricane was like. Oh please merciful Celestia and Luna guide this poor little soul’s journey- With an frightened yelp he realized nearly too close that he was in fact in a straight dive, leveled up with a groan under the weight of his cargo, and skidded to a halt- Splat. Nearly, skidded to a halt. Then tottered into a mud pool, hastily flapped out, and promptly got blown into a tree. There was, if anypony was around to hear, a quiet, very unstallion-like, whine. Eventually, though, a leaf slapped him in the face and he finally decided it was time to seek cover before something more unpleasant and painful hit him. === This is fine. A nice Zebrican mare lived out here in some absurd twist of fate. She’d slammed the door in his face almost, but then after confirming he was real, and not, as she said, an evil spirit come to take her soul. Green decided that asking about the assault rifle with glowing green lines tracing through the barrel and what looked like a griffish prayer slapped onto the receiver would’ve been rude. Even after it’d been pointed in his face. She looked almost heartstoppingly contrite, which helped a lot, honestly. “Once again, I am very sorry. It was not my intent to hurt you in the slightest, but-” He put up a hoof. “N-no, it’s… Fine. Uhm… Honestly, I’m just glad to get out of the storm, ha ha…” “Well, Young Miss, my name is Zeldeka and I’d like to welcome you to my little hut. It isn’t much and you might find it sparse, but…” She disappeared around a corner. “Actually-” Green didn’t manage to get out more than that, all else covered by a loud clatter of pots and pans. He scowled, and got up from the surprisingly comfortable and warm (enchanted?) wood floor, following her path… And found himself coming out into the same room. “What. No, what the fuck?” With a frown, he set his hooves and had another go at it. Back to the same room. “…okay then. Zebrican spellwork. Lovely.” Returning to the floor, he pulled off his saddlebags, and considered them. Apart from the seal, they looked pretty regular. That and the… Well, taste, of magic in the air around them. “…nothing for it then.” With one eye closed and leaning away, Green flicked the flap open with the tip of his least favorite hoof, using a nearby folder as an improvised shield that might’ve stopped a stern talking to if it was a good day. As maybe was expected, it was full of mail. “…” And then the thing started glowing. As is good common sense in Equestria, he reared back. As was the norm in Equestria, it obligingly exploded. === It remains a fact of life in Equestria that trying to go anywhere yourself outside of a city is a risky proposition. Magic monsters, old ruins, and the remains of a war or two. The Diarchy solution was to turn the REMS into potentially the world’s only non-aligned state funded semi-charitable special forces organization, exclusively revolving around the delivery of mail. Every Royal Equestrian Mail Service deliverypony, griffin, dragon, yak, and singular deliveryling, must all pass a rigorous SERE course that certifies them for being capable of maintaining acceptable state of mind even through icy wastes, burning deserts, vicious jungle, and belligerent townsfolk. They are trained in basic speech across multiple languages as to ensure they can at least ask for medical aid, give a pleasant greeting, and unofficially, swear colorfully enough to earn local respect. Medical and self defense training allows them the knowledge to survive, if not succeed, in encounters with aggressive fauna, incensed griffins, or in one case, Ponyville. REMS deliverers are often alone or in pairs, rarely found in any significant number together. They swear confidentiality and professionalism in anything short of the apocalypse, and to see through the mail on time, year round, with minimal damage to the contents. Being that they’re allowed through conflict zones under several independent international treaties, the results somewhat speak for themselves. === It stood in front of him, face… Swirling. Shifting. Almost pony, but not quite. The rest of it did as well; unicorn, pegasus, earth, and Green swore he saw a kirin and griffin’s pieces in there somewhere. “Who be you?” The voice spun through voices, from young colt to aging mare. Green took a good three seconds to realize he was being spoken to before screaming and popping his wings for a flight. After another few seconds of terrified yowling and flapping, he ran out of breath and also realized while he took in another, that he wasn’t moving anywhere. “So… Not going to kill me?” A few strange chuckles. “Death does not teach the lesson to others.” ‘Oh. Oh fuck me. Those jokes make way more sense now.’ He’d heard every so often jokes about crossing the mail service. They’d slipped to the back of his mind before he’d been able to ask about them, but now all of them made the sort of sense that happened when your ass was on the line. “Wh-” The pegasus’ voice cracked with a squeak and he cleared his throat, then tried again. “Who’re you?” “I and We be the mail service’s past. Most, though not all.” It took a step forward. Green immediately yelped and tried to scramble backwards again. Squeezing his eyes closed as he tried not to imagine how this spirit of mail would turn him inside out or something, his voice cracked slightly. “W-wait, I wasn’t trying to steal any mail, I was just trying to turn in the mail!” “…really, now? Hmm.” The pegasus opened his eyes a crack. The vaguely ponylike figure in front of him seemed… contemplative. “Be this the case, the next place for you is here, then. Deliverer you may not be in name, but in truth, you will be.” “Wh-” And suddenly, he was back in Zeldeka’s living room. === “Hmm, a most curious encounter if what you say is true. Though did you really have to touch that bag without any clue?” The zebra gave Green a Look. “…well, I touched it earlier and it didn’t-” Hoof met striped face. “Fool that I am, I invited you through my door, unknowing that you were such a dangerous boor…” The pegasus fluffed up a little. “H-hey! I’ve got a great education!” “…” A stare met him. “…okay fine, I touched the magic artifact twice and it was stupid and I coulda blown my hooves off. Happy?” Green refused to meet her eyes. Zedaka sighed. “It is not the bag that is the issue, rather it is that the next time, fate may not miss you.” “That was a stretch.” She colored slightly. “Well, tradition it may be, but… I have never been good for rhyme, you see.” “Still, what should I do about the whole… floaty magic marker only I can see?” “…” The zebra considered the pegasus for an uncomfortably long silence before she cleared her throat. “Ain’t it simple? Go follow it.” “I-” He blinked, and tried for words. Zedaka snorted slightly. “Really though, why does it bother you so? If what you say is true, it isn’t much more distance to go.” The zebra sipped her soup, tilting her head. Green made a face. “Well… I think I got conscripted into the REMS.” “…Ah, shit, I do think I see why you have a problem with it. For a mare who got her flank beaten by a hard gust of air, you going out there hardly seems fair.” “…I’m male, but other than that yeah basically. I just wanted the bits, man…” The pegasus sighed, and flopped slightly onto the table. “I cannot offer you much, I’m afraid, some thief took much of my supplies in a raid. But even so I can give to you, a charm that… might provide a boon?” The zebra winced at the ending. “I’ll take anything. Celestia’s sunkissed flank, if I manage to survive this I’ll buy you all the supplies you WANT.” Green groaned. > Chapter 3: Dossier, Sled, Stare. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So, what does this do…?” Green gave Zedaka’s gift a look. It was a small, oddly shaped charm, that if he was being uncharitable might’ve been the bastard son of a ribbon and a twig. It certainly felt like it was humming with… Something, but beyond that, the Zebrican magic felt incomprehensible. I really should’ve taken that Foreign Magics class, huh? “This is a simple talisman I have made. It makes you less noticeable, so be not afraid.” She gave it one last pat and something felt like it… Clicked, in his body. “So, zebra stealth magic? Thanks! This… Actually might help a lot!” He turned a small circle, giving it a once over as it dinly glowed with some inner green light. “What did you expect, a bottle of water and good wishes? I hardly want you to sleep with the fishes.” The zebra rolled her shoulders with a clicking noise. “Now, I have more homework in potions to brew. …just between you and me, I wish I did not have this to do. With all this work, I can hardly come after you.” The pegasus nodded. She’d let him use the bathroom to wash off the mud and get a couple twigs from his mane, though she’d nearly kicked him out after she realized she left a rubber ducky in there. I can’t really talk. I slept with a plushie until a year ago… The door knocked again, somewhat insistent, like a constable rapping a hoof against the door of a bunch of underaged drinkers. “You wanna go get that?” “…stay here Green, I’m afraid our visitors may be somewhat mean.” A click and quiet charging noise like a flash capacitor built. The trigger bit came into her mouth. With a few quiet clicks, her cloak settled around her, and the pegasus caught a glimpse that implied perhaps something a little more sturdy. She opened the door- THUD! Immediately, a thick metal retaining chain went taut as the door crashed against it. Green almost fell over himself trying to get away, as the wooden door sounded like it was about to give out any moment. THUD! ZEKZEKZEK- Dancing to the side in some Zebra fighting pose, the rifle barked green flashes as the wood door flared with golden runes. “Hurry young stallion, it shall not hold! If we leave now, we should both grow old!” The pegasus glanced around. The hut’s living room had two porthole style windows, but he didn’t trust them. If they were outside the door, they could be hiding just under the sill. “Roof access! Where’s the roof access?!” “Follow me!” The zebra shouted something in her native language at the door and it glowed with another rim of green, but at the next blow some of them flared and burnt out. The two of them ran through a kitchen and into a bedroom. A four poster bed with mosquito netting decorated with some bits of paper that had their own gently glowing green symbols sat in the middle, a desk with still smoldering candles that he suposed were the source of the incense smell in the corner. “What now?” Zedaka didn’t answer, the part time shaman part time gunmare grabbing a well concealed rope and yanking it. “Up this ladder is how!” And with a clatter of hooves that seemed much too agile for her, she disappeared up it. “Oh you gotta be kidding me.” Closing the door behind him, for all the good it’d do, Green scrambled to get himself up the ladder, finding himself in an attic. A dozen cardboard boxes and one strangely discolored crate sat scattered around, as the zebra fiddled with a trapdoor on the roof. Down the ladder there was a loud WHACK and a sound like the splitting of plate glass. Like any decent pony would do, the pegasus pulled up the ladder and closed the hatch. Then pushed a crate over it. “Can you fly the both of us?” “I-maybe? I’m not the strongest flyer, but I can try…!” “Good, the defenses should keep the spirits at bay, though even now I can see they’re starting to fray.” “Right, how’re we doin this?” === “You…hhgh, need to lose… Weight!” “…I will admit I should be up and about, but please, I’m right here, do you have to shout?” “How, much further?” The forest passed by at a decent rate, but between the rain, wind, and a zebra, he was starting to get tired. Thankfully the storm had somewhat abated. Zedaka whispered a few things to herself, glanced around, and came up with an answer. “A few more minutes should be fine, if you don’t mind.” "I don’t suppose, you have something, to make yourself LIGHTER?’ “That I’m afraid I cannot do. I’m sorry to say you must carry the full weight of us two.” “Oh my aching wings…” As they finally landed in a clearing, Green staggered and banged into a tree. “Ow, fuck…!” “Oof-” The zebra fell on her side, getting up with a wince. “Right, that’s it. That’s a wrap, I’m gonna see you tomorrow. G’night.” The stallion checked the ground and made to lie down before two strong hooves took him. “Whoa-” He found himself lying on a sled, Zedaka grinning back at him. “You may sleep on the sled, though I imagine it a little tough, for I remember this ride being somewhat rough.” “Meh.” Green Highfire Lines shrugged, curled up, and passed out. === “Hrrh… Hmmh?” Those were definitely birds he was hearing, though it was a little warmer than he thought he’d be. “Zecesa, bring it on…” And that voice was a little closer than he liked. “…Zedaka?” “Mmn…” He blinked, shook his head, and took stock. The two of them were on the sled, but they were under some kind of… Cover? Tent? Probably enchanted to stop stuff from munching on us. Maybe it’s a big version of my charm? There was also a heavily armed zebra curled up against his side. “…Zeedaaaka?” He nudged her with a wing, carefully. “Eh? Ah, a dream? Did you sleep well?” She rose slightly, peeking under the tarp. “…yeah, actually. I didn’t do stretches or nothin so I’m kinda surprised I don’t ache like Tartarus…” “A balm I was practicing, I’m glad it worked.” “I’m guessing it doesn’t do anything for strained muscles, though?” He said with a wince, as one wing complained. “I’m afraid all I can do is speed your recovery there.” Green blinked. “Too early for rhyming?” “…maybe. It seems we are unwatched. Quickly, break camp and let us begone.” With that, she carefully peeled back the tarp and exited. The two of them worked in vaguely awkward silence, as tends to happen after a hurried escape from angry spiritual entities. Finally, it was Green that spoke up. “So, uh, what’re you gonna do about your house?” The zebra sighed, and shook her heard. “I must leave you in the next town we find, for I will get the Guard and then give those spirits a piece of my mind.” “Atcha.” Another short silence, then as the stallion picked up the harness for the sled, Zedaka stopped him. “Worry not, I’ll run for us, now be a good colt and don’t make a fuss.” “Gotcha.” He helped the zebra into her harness before a thought struck him. “What’re you doin out here anyways?” “I am a student, taking my final test. After I’ve learned for a few years, then I may go back and rest.” A wistful smile dances across her face before she shook her head to clear it away. “What about you, pegasus of the storm? I do hope your entries are not the norm…” “Uh…” Green chuckled nervously. “Okay, so.” === “I’m from Velkaville. Y’know, the little town nearby?” A schoolhouse, a farm, a general store, and the town’s fortified border. Some familiar faces, and a brother of earth. His coat a little darker, his build a little more properly stallionlike. “Yes, I go there for supplies from time to time. Though some are out of by my propensity to rhyme.” “Wait are you the striped spooky pony that Miss Berries was talking about? I-oh Celestia. I’m so sorry…!” A middle aged mare, somewhat skittish. Her head turns this way and that at any noise. Her coat a deep red, her mane a little lighter and shot through with black streaks. She works a register and kindly sends someone on their way. “Hmpf. I’ll take that as a compliment, no matter how perverse. I’d rather that then them think I was about to lay upon them a curse.” “That happen often?” “Indeed it does, I’m sad to say. One of our first to prominence, Zecora, of her the village nearby was quite afraid.” “I… Think I’ve heard that name before.” “Stubborn old nag that she was, she stayed there for years. She went back to Zebrica eventually though, when she could barely hear.” “…wait, I think I remember where I heard that name. Didn’t she and Luna hook up over a bottle of whiskey?” “…Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ve heard tales of her being a terrible flirt.” “…the princess or Zecora?” “Yes.” === In the throne room, a dark blue alicorn sneezes, bowling over an unfortunate guardspony. “Hmh. Someone is speaking ill of me.” “Sister, please. Thats just a Chineighse superstition. Corporal Firestrike, are you alright?” The guard in question gets to his feet. “Yes ma’am. Should I get some tissues?” === It wasn’t on purpose. I’m not a pervert. …that said it was a very nice, well toned flank with muscle that an earth pony would be proud of. Zedaka definitely put in the time to stay fit, or maybe it was just the rigors of living out here. Her mane and tail were cut battle short, probably to prevent snags, and he’d gotten a glimpse of her cloak. It was armored and probably enchanted, a couple segmented steel plates guarding her body. There was nothing else to watch, though, and she- No, bad Green. Do not stare at the nice zebra who’s helping you. No matter how hypnotic her stripes and tail are. “…” I mutter a curse and stretch my wings, testing the strain. Better than it used to be but still, I’d only fly on it if I had to. “…hey, Zedaka?” “?” She makes a questioning noise. I sigh, make a few false starts, and resolve myself. “I think I’m bad luck. Can you check for that?” “…what?” === “Ma’am, we’ve got an unregistered addition to the inducted rolls.” The aging mare glanced across the screens in the dim regional command center. Her stentorian voice matched her immaculate suit jacket as she took a drag from the cigar. “Dossier?” “Right here ma’am.” The folder floated into her wings and she gave the insides a brief lookover. Coordinator Rapid Response raised her eyebrow in a well practiced gesture. “…this, Green Highfire Lines. Are-” “Yes. Yes this is the right photo.” “…regardless, he seems ordinary. The only exception seems to be the number of jobs he has held and means of exit.” The page turns. There was a silence, long enough for Rapid to glance over at her subordinate, finding him scuffing a good against the deck nervously. “That’s… What I’m worried about, ma’am. According to our analytical engine, he’s bad luck. Model H.” The folder fell out of her wings and into the floor. “A Model H probabilizer?!” “…yes ma’am.” “…scramble patrols Able, Jasper, Regal, Forest and have X-ray on standby. Also, interrogate the spiritual team. We aren’t letting this one fuck us.” === “Hmm. Even if your tale is true, I will not be so quick to abandon you.” Zedaka and Green had stopped, taking shelter in a copse of trees. The latter was a moment from grazing before the zebra stopped him, and started a small fire with a whispered word and green flash. “Mfh- you really should. Also this is really really good!” Now, he had his muzzle buried in a stew. It’s cook had to hold back a laugh, gently sipping from her own bowl. “For one thing I do not want your death to weigh in my soul, for another thing out here, it’s better to have two watching for the moles.” “Well-” “Though I would appreciate you taking fewer looks at my flank, I do have a mare at home awaiting me who would… Perhaps not of you thank.” Pegasus throat spat soup and then entered a hacking cough as Green choked on his meal. Eventually, he survived, though he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “…oh ponyfeathers.” The zebra laughed now, a proper laugh that edged into hysterical. “Oh goodness I am sorry, so sorry, that was unfair… Though I will admit I do truly have a mare.” “I-Oooh you’re gonna get it.” Green produced a bright orange foam pistol and leveled it. “Yer 'onna phay fer aht.” Zedaka affected shock, gasping theatrically. “Ancestors preserve me, my companion a backstabber! Oh I should have confessed while I had her…!” Pap! And then she collapsed dramatically, gasping. “Alas, I… am slain by your hoof. I must beg… That you ferry a letter to… Zevera… Tell her she deserved much better than I… Bleh.” A moment passed. The pegasus politely clapped, grinning around the pistol in his mouth. “Brahvo, brahvo!” Righting herself and brushing away some bit of dirt, the zebra grinned back, mocking a bow. “Thank you kindly, thank you kindly, I shall be here all week. Though I must say that my plays are not all for the meek.” A moment passed, and then Green stashed away his toy. "…though, uh, about that thing. You kinda got me thinking about… Death n stuff. “Oh? Do tell what thoughts stirred when I was felled.” “…I’m, uh, parta the mail service now. Job’s kinda dangerous and I don’t got training. And you live in a place where you need that.” He gestured to the rifle with a wing. “If either of us ends up… Passing before our time, can we exchange letters?” The stallion looked into much more serious eyes. Zedaka shifted uncomfortably, before hanging her head. “W-well. Certainly a sobering thought, no matter how astute. And as much as I wish, there is nothing for me to refute.” “…so, I’ll take next pull. You compose a letter to Zedaka?” “Now-” “Ain’t an ask. Imma do it. You get writin.” With a grunt, Green got up. === …is it a pony thing to stare at flanks with all else naught to do? I fear I’ve been infected by their madness then. Zedaka laid on the sled, fighting to keep her eyes on the page. …though perhaps, I only seek to delay the unpleasantness. How does one tell their love that they died in advance? === > Chapter 4: Reflection, Tasking, Violence. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Zevera, my beloved: I wished we would grow old together, I truly did. Alas, it seems from my fate I could not be hid. The stallion I entrust this to should be Green Highfire Lines. His name is a mouthful, true, but I trust his word and mind. And yes, he does have the appearance of a mare but that is neither here nor there. I suppose === “So what about that homework?” “Hmm?” Zedaka looked up from her letter at the pegasus before her, who’d turned around to speak, canteen in wing as he took a long draw. He swallowed his water and glanced over. “You, uh, said you had homework. That and you’re a student and stuff…?” The zebra carefully put the pen back into it’s case and saved her work, the charmed paper glowing gently green. “Yes, that is true. Does something about that trouble you?” Green nodded to her, putting the canteen back. “Did you lose all your work? If those… Things trashed your home, I mean.” She grimaced. “Ah. That is a sobering thought. We shall have to see later what they have wrought. Usually they will stay for little, though there are some things in my home that are more than just fragile and brittle…” ‘…in other words, they might eat magical artifacts maybe? Or they might just break all her shit. Horseapples, I just gave her a failing grade and ran her ass outta her home didn’t I?’ Something on Green’s expression must’ve given him away because Zedaka hastened to reassure him. “Worry not, worry not, it is not your doing. For a while now they have been at my door, and I should truly have moved out much before. Really, that might be what earns me a failing grade, besides my lost brewing.” A smile twitched across his face before he sighed again. “…still doesn’t make me feel any less sorry. I don’t even have any bits so I can’t -” Gently, Zedaka flicked his snout. “Stop moping, there’s my favor. If that’s not acceptable then I do have a type of candy whose flavor I quite do savor…” === Able Patrol sat a bit nervously in their ready room. While usually it was a comfortable place for them to hurry up and wait in full kit, today they were expecting brass to visit. Naturally, this meant making sure everything was immaculate and not touching anything, so as to preserve the clean and tidy nature of the room. After all, it wouldn’t do to have some unicorn noble come across the normal ready room. Senior Route Handler Arrow Timing was most certainly a neat freak and did not leave his possessions to fill the room he occupied by some quirk of physics, for instance. He definitely wasn’t a colt cuddler either. And, so, for the last two hours, all the decent games, drinks, and magazines had gone into their cubbies and been replaced with nice sanitized rubbish that exactly one member of Able liked. (Silvered Sabre was weird like that.) “Hey, officer’s comin!” With one whisper they quickly stood into formation, awaiting what would surely be some- “At ease.” Well, a unicorn did come through the door. It certainly was no noble, though. A mare of muted blue coat and shockingly bright green mane stepped in, nodding. “Senior Handler Arrow Timing, I presume?” “Coordinator! Yeah, uhm…” “You get the picture. Sweep the roadapples, we’ve got an actual job.” “…Oh Celestia’s cake fattened flank you aren’t kidding.” Arrow Timing’s ears instantly went back, as the mare nodded grimly, taking a chair and sitting down. ‘Tartarus, I really feel like we should have some kind of dramatic lighting for this…’ “Since 9:50 PM yesterday, we’ve noted an uptick in… Incidents. We believe this one is the cause.” A folder was laid on the table, opened already. Able gathered around, looking it over. After a moment, the mare next to him spoke. “So, he’s bad luck and it’s spreading to the mail service?” The Coordinator nodded, pointing a hoof. “Silvered Sabre, was it? Good. I like you. And yes, correct on both accounts. So that’s why I’m here. I need you to, CAREFULLY, make him quit.” “…ma’am, all due respect, Able isn’t a combat or negotiating patrol. We’re just-” “Delivery, yes, I know. But you’re good at it, and it appears Mr Lines is quite a ways away, through rather dangerous territory. Frankly, Arrow, you’re the best of our veterans. I have more faith in you for this than I do all others.” The earth pony made a mutinous look, but groaned, and nodded after a moment. “Fine enough ma’am. What’s our plan?” “All you need to do, is find him and explain the situation. Do not use force unless he becomes violent, do you understand?” “…and if he says no?” “I’ve already started writing letters to the Princess and sending them through several different means.” The Coordinator wanly smiled. “The rest of your mission is in the back pocket of the folder. Go on, Senior Handler. I shall see you again in a month or less.” === “SWEET CELESTIA’S FUCKING SUNBURNED PLUSH WHITE FLAAAAAANK-!” Green was never the top of his class in fast level flight. Actually, he just about scraped medium in all the phy ed classes he had, as larger wings were harder to beat, compounded with his family having inherited a wing shape, that while great for gliding and climbing, was just awful for speed. That said when a desert mole is trying to take a nibble of your hindquarters, adrenaline covereth a multitude of failings. “SUN STARS MOON AND SKYYYYY-!” Down below, Zedaka was making her own land speed record, having dumped the sled for the sake of speed as dozens of massive train-dwarfing moles flew out of the ground like rats in a pallet of hard drugs. ‘Why can they FLY?! And why ME?! Zedaka’s right there!’ The sixth sense of pegasi poked him just in time to yank a left roll, the sharp teeth-lined rotating mouths of the mole careening by close enough to splatter it’s spit on his leg and side- “GAH-” Sharply braking, feeling a feather snap and his muscles strain as he suddenly pulled a sharp climb, the pegasus dodged another mole which was apparently bright enough to try leading its target, and then without many other options gave another flap before shutting his wings to throw himself into a backwards curving dive. He flipped it the high hoof as he dove, grinning. “Get bent you stupid-” WHAM! And then the world was spinning, pain blooming from one side, a slow ache building in the other- ‘Wait… Oh Tartarus-’ “EYES OPEN!” And then he saw the ground coming up terribly fast indeed. Wings instinctively flared, training forcing them to stay level relative to him before he slowed tried pulling out of the dive- “Oh this is going to fucking suck isn’t it?” Impact. Thud- CRUNCH. Green’s vision almost darkened to nothing, the edges of his sight covered in fuzziness. His throat hurt. ‘Why does it hurt?’ It took a while for him to settle into firm coherence. He took in a shaky breath, and listened. Apart from his heartbeat pounding in his ears, he… Didn’t actually hear the sound of the moles tunneling or flying out of the ground to grab a light snack. Actually, he… ‘R-rain? No, it’s… Static electricity? Wait, there’s no clouds for thunderstorms-’ And then the sky apparently decided enough was enough of these shenanigans, because out of a clear blue sky there was a cloud that rapidly got closer. Actually, it wasn’t getting closer, it was just getting bigger, he realized. And then it exploded. === He’d seen lightning bolts before. Pegasi were by nature both insulated and conductive capable. He hadn’t seen one as thick as a wine barrel out of the corner of his eye blow a creature that made the Velkaville train look like a toothpick to smithereens though. “… that’s gotta be Zedaka. Or-” His coat prickled and he squeezed his eyes shut again. THOOM! THOOMTHOOMTHOOM- Out of an abundance of caution, he pressed himself flat to the ground and did a quick static discharge exercise. === Eventually, quiet hoofbeats tapped nearby. They stopped, and then he heard a gasp. “Spirits forbid! Green-” " 'm fine. Naw so louuud…" He opened his eyes, and unflipped his ears, looking to his left warily. Zedaka, much more battered and missing a part of her hood, looked back. Her cloak was scorched from something, its armor exposed with a dull gleam. Beyond that, she herself looked tired, drained. A grin, small but noticable, decorated her muzzle though. “It is good to see you are well. I will admit i very nearly thought you fell.” “Urgh…” The stallion grimaced, tried to rise, and then hissed as something burned on his other side. He looked down, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The side where that mole’s spit had hit him was a bit runny. “Ah. That’s… That’s a burn? No, it… Oh, ponyfeathers…” He looked back to a zebra who was suddenly very close, gave an apologetic wan smile, and passed out.