> Dusk > by DuskbeforeDawn > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A Slight Bit of Bad Luck He kept his head low, his face masked by the thick squares of paper held in his hooves. Not that he needed much help, the smokey nature of the tavern created a dense miasma. Slight Luck took a small glance over his cards, his eyes tight and shifty. The grizzled old Pegasus across from him was missing an eye. Next to him, was a purple earth pony with a beard that had been smiling the whole time. Looking up, he noticed that for one instance all the other players were simultaneously looking down at their cards, not at him. He allowed himself a tiny smirk, braking the stoic poise of apathy that was his poker face. He quickly cast the scramble luck spell under his hat. He looked closely at the five of spades in his hoof, slowly the five spades crawled closer together and merged into an ace of diamonds. Quickly however, the diamond stretched out into a queen of clubs, a similar metamorphosis occurred for each card, they cycled through fifty two various options before they changed into four aces and a king of hearts. He mentally grinned at the tall stack of glistening bits before him. “Sha-BAM!” he yelled slamming his cards down onto the table. The other two looked stunned for a moment. “Lovely game, gentlecolts.” He said, wrapping his hooves around the pile. He could see his grinning face slowly growing bigger in the reflection in each gold glistening bit. “Wait!” said the purple pony rising from his seat and slamming his hooves on the table. “I have the same cards!” He threw down his evidence and glowered at Slight Luck. “Well,” Slight began gently sliding coins into his saddlebag. “Clearly there is a cheater in our midsts!” They each glanced at other for a moment before the purple earth pony leaned across the table and flipped Slight’s hat off. “No!” Slight Luck attempted to grab his hat out of the air with his hooves, but he had to resort to magic. His horn emitted a lime green haze as it pulled the hat down over his head. Slight Luck looked up before turning to his opponents. They looked at him with that familiar look of shock and fear that he had seen all his life. “Well, sure! Make fun of the guy with the birth defect!” The two across from him took a moment to process this, and by the time they realized what had happened, Slight Luck had flipped the table, for no other reason than spite, and bolted for the door. He was halfway through the smoky bar when a haggish old wench of a pegasus yelled “UNICORN!” Every patron of the bar turned and looked at him with the same look of disbelief. They followed suit and each in turn screamed “UNICORN!”. “Well…” Slight looked around. Two royal guards had entered the tavern and were charging towards him, if he could get through them, there was a chance he could still escape. Slight Luck forced a large magical surge to his horn, the crowd backed away in fear. “Let’s see how you handle this!” His magic dissipated and he sprinted towards the slightly unnerved guards. Luckily, a slightly unnerved guard was all he needed; he slipped through the gap with the greatest of ease. “I will see you gents later!” he yelled over his shoulder, racing as fast as his legs could take him for the door. He was turning back around when his face collided with something solid. It was a massive and stoic something. Apparently, there had been another guard outside. Slight sighed. “Our military is so efficient.” He tried to maneuver past the guard, who was much larger than he was. “Hold there, unicorn.” The guard said with a deep voice. “You know you are not supposed to be out of your uniform.” “Of course I know that! I was robbed! Forced into new clothes!” He tried to waddle past the guard. “Very counter-intuitive robber!” He slid around the guard and bolted away. He galloped over the dirt roads of Las Pegasus, he was on the side of town best equipped to finding specific public houses of undesirable repute, though in Slight Luck’s case the term, ‘undesirable’ was insanely relative. He dashed down the road only turning around to count the guards chasing him, Oh goody, he thought to himself Seven, my favorite number. Slight Luck turned and noticed a cart that was being pushed by an earth pony, oh what good fortune a purveyor of vegetables. Truly, it was every great rapscallion’s dream to distract his pursuers with the fresh produce of mother earth. He leapt over the cart before turning and bucking the cart over. He took only the briefest of moments to appreciate the rarity of this occurrence before he resumed his glorious escape. “My cabbages!” the owner of the cart shouted behind him. Ahead, the two guards at the gate were bracing themselves. “There’s a crazy unicorn chasing me! I’m getting out of here!” Slight yelled as he got closer. Then, there was an explosion between him and the guards, and when the dust cleared, there was a uniformed unicorn staring him down. Slight skidded to a stop, staring up fearfully at the unicorn. “MY LONG LOST BROTHER!” he yelled, sweating. “Phallicorn!” The unicorn struck him across the face with his hoof, dislodging the hat again. “This is why mom liked me best.” He said quietly, grabbing his hat with his teeth and tossing it back on, not managing to pull it over his horn as the rest of the guards surrounded him. There was nowhere else to run. He sighed. A glow of magic shrouded his horn. He looked around again, closed his eyes, and activated the teleportation spell, and vanished in a mystical ‘poof’. The unicorn guard growled and activated a spell of his own, within moments, he had vanished as well. The remaining guards looked between themselves, and returned to their routes, except for the two whom had been on duty at the gate itself. The younger of the two turned to his superior. “Aren’t we going after him?” he asked. “The runner, I mean.” After a brief chuckle, the older Unicorn replied. “That there was Western Commander Crimson Wind. Doesn’t matter how far the unregistered can run, he always catches his mark.” > Chapter 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- An Overturned Inkwell The desk was fancier then it needed to be. One can forgive some level of excess, considering Canterlot Castle was a classy white fortress of dominance and control, but gem encrusted unicorn sculptures, really? Inkwell was staring down one of the aforementioned statues as she sat across from the desk, in the middle of the main hall of the castle. “I do apologize miss…” the secretary unicorn looked down at the application, “…Script, but you are not qualified to take the scribe’s exam.” Inkwell looked down at her form, mighty was her ink, flawless her calligraphy, and her spelling was exceptional. She looked sternly at the secretary, but the scorn was lost on her. “Have you considered another line of work? One more suited to your… natural abilities?” Inkwell’s eyes narrowed. This, being attempt number five, meant she did not even bother to get her form back. She stood up, snorted in disdain, and left, trudging through the main hall of Canterlot castle. It was rather plain that today was a total bust as far as things go. No job, and she was still stuck living at home. Not that living at home was necessarily unpleasant but it was more of an annoyance that she, the elder sister, was still living with her parents while her genius baby brother was off living off his Unicorn Guard salary in a nice big apartment near the castle. Once outside, she stretched her wings and flapped experimentally to test the weather. It was soft and warm, but rather gloomy today. She flapped once before taking off. Ink glanced down at the little ponies going about their monotonous lives with the same resolve and eccentric force as usual- which is to say, for a city whose main contribution to the world was a military academy the citizens where disturbingly happy. She saw some ponies dining and enjoying shows in the park, several social clubs were full to bursting and the day just had a general air of the jovial. The purple Pegasus groaned aloud at the sheer inanity. She flew across the city, and landed in front of a tiny wooden shop- it’s sign had been worn away long ago and Inkwell had never bothered to ask the owner its name (as if anyone would go there but her). The bookstore was empty aside from the old man behind the counter, as always. She trotted around, looking at the books- “The history of Equestria,” (she had read all 150 pages multiple times), “Flight theory” (not applicable) and of course, no magical books for the public. The only fiction was the usual mess of poorly-written novels that spoke of pulp, romance, or the standard glory of the nation Equestrian. She had always suffered from an odd medical condition; she noticed it when she was very young, that the sight and sound of a poorly written book filled her with such carefully cultivated critical distain that it made her physically ill. Had she been exposed to people who found such works of “writing” to be of high quality, her illness was made doubly dreadful. Ink left the bookstore with nothing and flew away again. It wasn’t long before she had crossed from the shopping district of Canterlot, to the homes of the upper-class, and eventually came to the grid of houses in which the middle class lived. She drifted down to a light colored house with a red faded roof, then glided through the window and flopped down onto her cloud bed. Getting Cloudsdale furniture to work in Canterlot had been a trial, but the payoff was worth it. Finally, something that couldn’t be used by her brother. She rolled over and pulled a small tuft of cloud over her, it felt like a type of silk, but much heavier and warmer. Then, she took a moment to look around her room. Her scroll rack was full to bursting many of them scattering and forming small piles all over the room. Flight theories, weather patterns, and journals covered the walls and floor, as well as hundreds of as of yet unused inkwells and quills. However as if to balance out this there was nearly as many matching empty inkwells and bags of used quills. She buried her face in the cloud. Having a cutie mark was no longer assurance of a job, it seemed. The best she could probably do was maybe a job with the post, but more likely she’d have to go down to the weather office in a few days and just get a job there. She’d passed her flying exam well enough- but it was far from a perfect score. Most likely she’d be put on something dull and menial. She then glanced over at her desk , there was a tattered blue green book- ‘The Elements of Style, Fourth Edition, by Scribeson and Whitehorse.’ It had been her tireless companion in writing, as well as the finest tome of writing techniques she had ever known. She gritted her teeth and threw the clouds covering her away. She emerged from her sullen resignation with a sudden resolve; she grabbed some of her best writing and darted away from her home. She would show them her writings, show them all her skills, she would meet the unicorn and write everything she said in record time. She slipped the tiny book into her bags side pocket, for luck. Even burdened by her scrolls and quills her drive carried her the way. The trip was much faster when one was not burdened with the weight of failure. She flew down to the castle and glided into the main hall. The secretary was gone, however. Fair enough, she thought as she began preparing herself for the epic battle to be had. Suddenly, the gates slammed closed, the drawbridge rose, and distant alarms began sounding. Inkwell’s drive instantly drained out of her. She spun around looking for anypony, she ran down a small hallway, her mind focused on finding an exit. If she was found there might be questions, but alarms did not sound when they were looking for someone to imprison. She ran, looking for a back door, a hole in the wall, a stupid window, all of them the things that did not exist in the halls of Canterlot castle. However, the alarms did at least get fainter and fainter with every twist and turn she took. There was a noise around a corner but she could not stop herself in time. “I’m sorry I got lost!” she yelled, flinching as she rounded the corner. It turns out she had been making excuses to an old rusty door. She laughed hesitantly and wiped the sweat from her face. She then turned to find another route to take but then smelled it. A very dry and slightly musty scent, yet with an undercurrent of a dry tangy acid, a flat black ink smell. She looked back and could see them beyond the door, books! She entered the room, ignoring the fallen and rusted lock. There were books to be had. Good books. She was almost salivating from the thought of actually being able to find a decent read. She was so distracted, that in fact, she didn’t see the Unicorn until they had knocked each other flat on their rumps. He exclaimed his surprise, leaving her to stare at him. He was quite the oddly-dressed fellow, even daring to wear a hat in Canterlot. She stared for a moment before finally managing to find the words. “So… Are you the librarian?” > Chapter 3 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A Sea of Dust The tiny spider moved over its web and eventually crossed the room to the location it had felt a moth strike its web. The room holding many tiny grey corners and dark books for moths to breed in gave the spider so much food it barely knew what to do with its days. It had already covered the ceiling and every corner in webs and spent its days laying eggs and feeding. Now bored with its moth it decided to climb down and stare at the one pony in the room. “Zymotic zirconium: Fermented Diamonds used for the intoxication and subjugation of Draconus Major.” Mumbled the lanky blue earth pony. “Wow Scribe!” Said the tiny unicorn from behind a massive tome. “That covers equestrian zoology!” It flew up and returned the zoology book to its original place. “Anthromorphobic Animal Asymmetry: pages 111-114, 118, 220” said the blue pony. “No!” the tiny Pegasus flew down and covered the blue ponies mouth. “There is no point in memorizing the index.” The blue pony continued muttering even with the Pegasus’s hoof in his face. “Dear lord he’s still going.” “Shut up!” the unicorn leapt up behind the blue pony and hit him upside the head with a gigantic book. His face slammed against the table. The blue pony sat there, his face flat on the wooden table. It smelled like peanuts. “Peanuts: plural of pea-nut, noun.” “Why?” said the Pegasus. “One: The oval seed of a South Equestrian plant, eaten as a snack or used for making oil. Two: A paltry thing or amount, commonly a small amount of bits.” The two little ponies sighed, and disappeared into the library. The blue pony glanced around at the cobwebs coating most of the shelves. The books were of course fine, he had only just taken them down, cleaned, and reorganized them. He made a gurgling sound for no apparent reason. “Spider,” He muttered turning and seeing a tiny black spider crawling down in front of his face. “Any numerous predaceous arachnids of the order of Arachnid, most of which spin webs that serve as nets and as traps for prey.” He leaned closer to look at it “Parasteatoda tepidariorum” he mumbled, before noticing the unicorn had returned to sit with him. “Arachnids please,” Said the blue pony. The unicorn groaned left into the maze and ten minutes later returned with five books on various aspects of spiders, “Poisons and cures, Arachnids can be your friends, Spider Spells, Arachnology, and the Itsy Bitsy Spider.” Read the pony. Suddenly, there was a loud CRASH and the door that had been closed for as long as the blue pony could remember was hanging off it’s hinges. Standing there was an out-of-breath looking dull blue unicorn… The newcomer looked around for a moment before diving behind the checkout desk. After a few moments, there was the sound of a marching troop of guards. Once the sound faded, he looked back over the desk. “They gone? Good!” He muttered to himself before he jumped back over the desk and began to look around. “Didn’t know any libraries like this still existed…” He began to look around curiously. It was quite off-putting to put ones hoof into what appeared to be a potentially bottomless pit of dust shrouded by fog. Slight Luck observed this as he took one step into the library and the two inches of dust instantly were rustled from the floor and became a brown miasma around his hooves. He smiled, if the cleaners didn’t frequent this room then the guards wouldn’t either. He started walking further into the maze of shelves to see what there was in here. “Dear lordie!” he said as he maneuvered the books on the shelves, looking for anything of value. Walls upon walls of literature were stretched around the library. He had seen some libraries before, they had been all right (if a little bit too silent and small), but this one was totally unlike any he’d seen before. This library’s shelves stretched all the way to the ceiling and he could not be convinced otherwise that it was made as maze-like as possible just with the express purpose of annoying him. “Stupid past architects,” he muttered as he rounded another corner. Instantly he froze, there was someone in the library. He looked around, and saw that was a blue earth pony. Luck stepped back, observing. This librarian pony seemed fairly oblivious to the world around him. “Pardon me fellow castle inhabitant,” Luck asked “I think I took a wrong turn and was wondering if you could direct me to the emergency exit?” As the dust cleared, he noticed the blue pony had a long unkempt main and tail that had become brown from being dragged through the dust. It also had a book in its mouth and a carrot tied to his head. The pony didn’t respond with more than a mild ear twitch. “Fair enough,” Slight Luck muttered, continued walking alongside the dusty blue pony that moved through the maze in a matter that Slight Luck observed to be rather mechanical. Eventually they emerged into what appeared to be the center of the library, a large table, a set of lamps and chairs were all spread out. The blue pony sat the book on a table and propped it up so someone sitting in front of it could read it and not actually have to hold it. He then untied the carrot from his head and sat in behind the book. It trudged over and sat across from the book and carrot. “Thank you,” it muttered. “By the light of Celestia, he can talk!” laughed Slight Luck. The blue pony screamed and fell of his stool. “W-what, h-how, w-where, words words WORDS!” It said as it squirmed on the floor. “Whoa, calm down there!” said Slight Luck as he moved closer to the blue pony. The pony in question looked to the carrot, back to Slight Luck, back to the carrot, back to Slight Luck, and threw up. Slight Luck took a step back, glanced at the carrot and shrugged. “I’ll assume this place is a library, you, seems kinda secret, bet you got all sorta illegal books, know where I can find anything on teleportation?” The blue pony was already gone by the time Slight Luck looked back. “I honestly don’t know what I expected.” He was going to try to find another way out before he heard an echo through the library. “Teleportation,” Said the blue pony from somewhere, “the ability for a pony to send their collected mass to another location with the aid of a magical conduit. First developed by the Sage Caballus the Great, the original teleportation spell requires two components.” Slight Luck followed the voice through the maze. “First: the unicorn in question must know what the location of the destination looks like, preferably from firsthand experience, though photographs can work just as well, and second must have the physical strength to walk a mile. The unicorn then focuses magical energy, similar at first to the second stage of basic magical channeling, see page forty-seven, and then envisions the place desired. This was the first basic teleportation spell it was later amended by Elquar Teletaros with the formula. V=ma2, which states that accounting for variables in the area, example teleporting into a wall is equal to ones magical output, times the air pressure of the location squared.” Slight Luck rounded a corner to find a small fort made of books. The voice was obviously coming from inside. He stepped over the tiny wall of books set up and peaked inside. The blue pony was under a blanket and shaking. “This is known as Teletaros’s first law of Teleportation safety.” Slight Luck reached down to poke the blue pony but stopped, instead he walked away a glanced at the shelves around him. He wandered back through the maze bagging any book that caught his fancy or looked valuable. “A-a-all books to be checked out must be returned no later than a week after the date taken,” mumbled the blue pony. Slight Luck laughed to himself and continued his track back to the entrance, the nice thing about dust is that it leaves a trail when one walks through it. He rounded the corner and knocked heads with a Pegasus pony. “What the hell?!” yelled Slight Luck as he fell over. The purple Pegasus rubbed her head and looked nervously at the blue unicorn. They waited for the other to scream, or call the guards. Slight Luck tried to remember that stupid formula, and the purple Pegasus stretched her wings. “So… Are you the librarian?” she asked Luck. Luck thought on this for a moment, then shook his head. “Nope, not me. Just an average Joe guard. Move along, missy.” She frowned. “No you’re not. Guards have to wear that dorky uniform all the time. You’re that fugitive that set off the alarms, I’ll bet.” “I’m here undercover to see whose coming to the library that shouldn’t be here!” He said that last bit with an accusatory tone. “Your hat is a style not popular in Canterlot, it’s more of a design common to Las Pegasus. Either the undercover wardrobe department is run by morons… Which is very possible… Or you’re lying through your teeth. I’m willing to bet it’s the second.” She glowered at him for a moment before continuing. “Now tell me what you’re going to do to keep me from calling a guard…” “What are you, an expert Hat-ologist?” Luck spouted. The blue pony peeked around a corner. “Hatology is not a real profession…” he muttered. The Pegasus jumped. “WHAT IS THAT?” she shouted. “King’s advisor.” Luck said. The Pegasus looked at him quizzically. Then, it sank in that she was standing in a library larger than any she’d ever seen. She took off flying around lazily, looking at all the books. “I’m guessing he’s the actual librarian here?” she asked nopony in particular. Slight Luck started tiphoofing towards the door. “That is certainly a guess…” he said as he tried to exit as quietly as possible. The rhythmic thump of the guard’s hooves faded in from around the corner of the hallway. Both the unicorn and the Pegasus turned, mentally panicking. The pegasus tossed a book into her saddlebag and landed. “What are we going to do?” She trotted in place nervously. “The guards can’t find either of us in here!” Luck shrugged and began to power up his teleportation spell. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting out now. Good luck getting out with no windows.” “You have to take me with you!” She shouted. “Come on, don’t be a jerk!” He rolled his eyes. “Sure. But no refunds if you end up in a wall. Come here.” He beckoned her over and fired up the magic in his horn. The power swirled around them for a moment, then with a poof; they disappeared, leaving the librarian behind. The blue pony stared at where the two had been standing a moment before returning to his desk and stamping the books they’d taken as being ‘checked out’ on his register. > chapter 4 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A Soaking Exit There was a poof and the two ponies appeared in the empty courtyard. Luck looked around before jumping with glee and hoof-pumping. “It worked! It actually worked this time!” He then turned to Inkwell, who had landed in the fountain and was now fairly wet. She grumbled a moment before jumping out and shaking the water off herself. Luckily, her saddlebags were waterproof. Slight Luck watched her exit the fountain, laughing the entire time. The canterlot citizens mumbled to each other slowly approaching the pair. “Don’t worry citizens I have rescued the royal crown polisher from that horrible invader.” Luck said, the alarms could be heard in the distance. “Yes that horrible mule, with an accent, and a mustache.” The ponies backed slowly away from his madness. “Well miss Ink Bottle, I bid you adieu.” “It’s not an inkbottle it is an inkwell!” she said, somewhat aggravated. “Pull your hat down, the world can see your horn.” She shook off the last bit of water before setting off though the gate that led to the main city area. “And why can’t I be the castle scribe in your lie?” Luck followed her out, avoiding any awkward questions by pulling his hat down. “Because nopony would buy that a Pegasus can hold a quill and still write properly.” Inkwell growled at him. “You don’t know me. So shut up.” She huffed and started trotting into the city proper. Luck followed. “Oh miss, I do apologize for accidentally offending you but I have never met a Pegasus with talent in writing…” He apologized profusely, still following her. She glared at him again. “Why are you following me, you’re a draft-dodger at the least- punishable by three years in a re-education facility and a hefty fine. At most you’re probably a terrorist- they hang for that.” “Well…” Luck sweated a bit. “You seem to know your way around the city, as well as the penal code. I just arrived here today and you seem less inclined to turn me in to the authorities…” he skipped around until he was walking backwards, facing her. “Of course you could be faking all of this but I’m going to guess you’re not.” “Damn straight. So let’s go work out an agreement on why I shouldn’t blab to a guard that I saw an unregistered unicorn wandering around.” She trotted off in the direction of a quiet café. There was another commotion in the courtyard behind them. A few burly guards were hauling the blue earth pony librarian out of the castle. The pony was squirming and protesting, but the guards threw him out into the dirt, before tossing out a set of saddlebags that looked pretty empty. “We don’t need you any more, scram!” the guard on the left shouted before they returned back to the castle, slamming the door behind them. The pony sat there looking at the wall. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Luck said before trotting back to the librarian. “Come on, you. Let’s go get you some food.” He hauled the pony upright, grabbed his saddlebags, and started guiding him along. It stared at him, its pupils vibrating all around the area. “Food,” it said it spun around and looked back at the castle. “Food,” it turned back to Slight Luck, “What?!” it yelled. “You’re skin and bones. Whatever they’ve been feeding you isn’t cutting it. Come on, let’s get you some real food.” Luck started hauling his new companion along. “I know a place. We can talk in private. Come on, then.” Inkwell led the way down an alley, the unicorn and earth pony following. “It’s not too far off. > Chapter 5 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Deal Making and Muffins Slight Luck shook one the iron tables of The Little Rose café- and it wobbled on it’s three good legs. He leaned back as the trio waited for their food. Inkwell was eyeing the books in Slight Luck’s bag, avarice clearly her intent, and Scribe sat running his hoof over the table in a rhythmic motion. Slight Luck glanced around the café, and did his best to look out the window, but his eyes were nowhere near magical enough to penetrate the thick layers of caked on dirt, rust, and Celestia-knows-what. “Would you stop that!” said Inkwell suddenly, making both stallions jump. Scribe shushed her and returned to his meanderings. “What?” Luck asked indignantly. “You have been looking around the restaurant every two minutes since we got here.” She whispered loudly enough to make her irritation known, but not too loudly as to let the few other patrons in on their conversation.. “Just keeping a look out for health inspectors dear.” “What is it like being a pathological liar?” “I just like to think of every question in life as multiple choice.” A lime green pony brought them their food: strawberry cake and earl grey tea for Inkwell, coffee with a blueberry muffin for Slight Luck, and some chicken soup for Scribble Scribe. “Dear lord, the food actually looks like the pictures!” Luck picked up his muffin and checked it for mold. Inkwell groaned and drank her tea in the most condescending manner possible. Scribble Scribe was now slinking his hoof around in his soup. “Now, don’t do that.” Inkwell said gently taking his hoof out the soup and giving him a spoon. Scribe starred at it for a moment before he began slinking his spoon around in his soup. “What’s your name pal?” Slight Luck asked, his mouth full of muffin as he looked around the café again. Scribble scribe dropped his spoon and looked up at Slight Luck. “You forgot my name?” his eyes darted around. “But Ulie, why, how does that even?” he shifted around in his seat before turning to Inkwell, “You remember me don’t you Peggy?” Inkwell froze, she looked around, sweat sliding down her face. “She isn’t Peggy, her name is Inkwell.” Slight Luck said, apathetically. “Also, I’m not Ulie, call me Lucky.” The blue pony shook and looked around the restaurant, mumbling words of nonsense. Inkwell then struck Luck on the horn. “Ow! What the hay man? What the actual hay? You’re the one who’s all like ‘stop lying’ and stuff!” “I’m sorry we aren’t the ponies you thought we were, but we could help you find them.” Inkwell said to Scribble Scribe. “What’s all this we stuff?” Luck grumbled. “Don’t know why I decided to help either of you here… I should have just gone straight to Fillydelphia…” He finished his muffin before glaring at the Pegasus across from him. “Oh, shush. You’re obviously not a jerk so of course you wouldn’t leave either of us behind. Now…” Ink finished her tea. “What’s to keep me from calling a Unicorn guard and getting you sent to a re-education center? My brother told me that the northern wastes are lovely this time of year…” she grinned slyly. Luck glowered. “What do you want?” “Those books you stashed in your saddlebag. I only managed to grab one before we had to leave.” Inkwell gave them a longing stare. “Why?” he asked, shifting himself uncomfortably “Oh like you even care about books.” “Really? The pegasus is going to tell the unicorn about the value of books?” “What possible use for books do you have?” Inkwell reached across the table with her wing and pulled out a random book. “This one is a children’s fable book. You are an adult. Grown Stallions do not read these. Look, it’s full of fiction- nopony believes in the Elements of Harmony.” Luck stared at her. “They do to exist!” he exclaimed, slightly shocked at what had been said. “My father used to tell me storied about them when I was a colt!” “Fillies’ fables are not truth. What proof do you have that six mares once used the power of their friendship to vanquish ancient villains and monsters during the old Empire? It defies logic!” “Look, featherbutt, you may not be able to feel it because you keep your head up in the clouds all the time, but I feel it in my heart that these stories ring truth. What do YOU believe in?” Luck glared at her a long moment. “Your father was a daft Auroch for believing in that. They didn’t exist and I should have them haul you off right now!” Luck looked down, silent. Then he slowly glared up at the Pegusai, absolute rage burning in his eyes. “You take that back you stupid Terrip.” Inkwell sat up at the table, reeled back and struck Slight Luck across the face with her hoof. “Ass!” She reached over the table, and pulled Lucks entire bag towards her as he rubbed his face. She had nearly crossed half of the table before Luck regained himself and pulled the bag back towards him. The books spilled out over the table, some landing in a structured manner but one, by pure happenstance bumped the Scribble Scribe’s soup bowl, he tensed up as the tiniest drop of soup was sprung from the bowl and gently settled itself into a page it turned the words “only once one” a bright red. Meanwhile, in a completely different state of mind, Inkwell and Slight Luck had focused their energy over one book, the title neither of them knew. “You don’t even need this one!” Inkwell pulled at the book. “I can auction the useless ones away!” Slight Luck pulled back “To the stupid rabble?” “Like you’re some kinda book saint?” Slight luck began pulling with his mouth. “No!” Scribble Scribe yelled. The both of them froze, dropping the book on the table amongst the small pile. “Wha-“ “No!” Scribe pulled the books in close to him, alphabetized them, and laid his hoofs over them. “I’m sorry but I will have to revoke your library privileges!“ The other two looked across at each other. “Look,” Inkwell said. “I just, don’t get many books, you know how things are.” “There are people who need these more than you do.” Slight Luck looked across at her. “How do you know?” “I just do. That’s why I need to get out of the city.” “Well,” Inkwell looked down at the pile of books that Scribe was clutching. “Are you going to sell them?” “Not if I don’t have to.” “Then I guess I’ll go with you.” “What?” “I’ll go with you, and then when you’re done with the books I’ll take them back from you.” She held out her hoof. “Deal?”