Author's Notes:

Wrote this in four day's time. I shattered any previous records I may have set for myself.

Have a fun read.

Great. This has turned out to be a fantastic hunt.

Kestral cursed himself, and his luck.

He sat down, looking down at the surrounding area. His feet dangled from the ledge, kicking forward and back in an attempt to occupy his time. It was an idle action; One to occupy his body while his mind cranked away at something else. The clockwork behind him ticked and clanked, filling the silence with continuous noise.

His eyes glazed over the city, taking in the moonlight-covered buildings. The occasional pegasus -or, more frequently, batpony, given the advancement through the night- flew through the air. He could barely see them, but they were there. Two or three moved at a time, sometimes with glistening armor, letting him spot the guards even further away.

He let off a sigh, as he thought over how the past two hours had gone. After he had explained the situation to Luna, a platoon of guards had immediately moved off, spreading out across the city once they relayed to his previous target. A stallion on purple armor had moved with them, though the gold bands indicated his rank was within the Solar Guard, not the Lunar.

He had gone off the check locations himself. He got to three homes, but... each one was empty. Not a trace of where the changelings had gone was to be found. Of course, the guards beat him to each place, but that didn't matter. If they weren't doing anything, then it was because there was nothing to do. Aside from helping the victims out of their prisons, but that went without saying.

From what he gathered, the changelings had already scrambled away from old covers into new ones. They may have had something warn them ahead of time.... which made him suspicious. Mostly, he was suspicious at the changeling he had let go. Of course, there were other sources that could have given the changelings a heads up. A guard could be a disguised changeling, for example. It only seemed hard to believe, since he had already determined that only a couple of them were connected to the hive around the time he hit his last target.

It didn't matter. The changelings were gone and, if the houses he had been to were a good example, the victims had been left behind, intact.

It was a double-edged sword, to be honest. The changelings had gotten away, for now. And made their escape very clean, at that. But, in leaving behind the victims, they had given Kestral more time. It didn't necessarily hurt them, but everything that helped him -even if it was just to help him sleep at night- might as well have been a strike against them.

The wind kicked up for a second. It blew across his face, blowing back his short hair as best as it could. It died quickly, though. In the noble district, the wind didn't last long, as he'd found out. It wasn't like the lower district, where it went rampant from a lack of care or control on the part of the weather team.

He had seen Luna, at some point. She had flown in around thirty minutes ago, presumably checking on the status of the sudden raids. He had only spotted her once, and that was just when she was landing. In spite of her larger size, she was actually more difficult to spot than other aerial beings. He blamed her coat color, and the fact she had stars in her hair.

He looked at the massive clock to his side, and saw the minute hand had just reached the eight, and was trailing behind the hour hand only by a couple of marks.

Steadily, he heard the beating of wings approach. He didn't see them, but he heard them coming. He pulled his legs up and tucked his feet under him, right on the edge. He pushed and did a backwards roll into the safety of the clocktower, having momentarily forgotten he could have teleported. He ducked behind the wall, and listened for it to go away.

But it didn't. The beating of the wings sounded rather loud in the dead of the young night. Four tiny taps against the wood, and the beating stopped. All was silent, barring the clacks on the floor, which sounded more like ornate metals than hooves. Whoever landed was either royalty, or a guard, and he was willing to bet it was the former.

“Luna.” He said, just as her head appeared from behind the wall. “I wasn't expecting you.”

“Ah, Kestral. I was hoping I could find you here.” She replied.

She continued walking around at a slow, commanding pace, with her head held high, like she was showing a passive role of unspoken superiority. She didn't seem to do it intentionally. In fact, it almost seemed like a reflex. Her eyes were glazed over in thought, looking past him, rather than at him. Her stance, he deemed, was from her training her posture to shift into it naturally. It was a default stance, diplomatic and formal. It was because she wasn't actually thinking about her posture, or really even who she was near.

She walked around, and joined him behind the visual protection of the wall. After he sat down, she looked at him oddly, then, as if something clicked she joined him, by sitting on her haunches. She still almost had that glazed gaze, so he decided to carry on the conversation himself.

“You seem tense.” He said. “Did something go wrong?”

She looked at him with more focus than before. Her chronically pursed lips parted again, breaking from their silence. “The results of the raids were.... underwhelming.” She said. She looked away for a moment, as if it would help her speak this part. “All of the victims in the related houses were recovered. Some are more physically damaged than others.” She paused. “There is one mare, in particular, who is in critical condition. She was bare of fur, by the time we got to her. Much of her skin was gone as well. Do you know what I found troubling? When I got to her, she was wide awake. Whatever chemicals kept her asleep didn't keep her that way for long.”

“She looked at me and smiled. Should couldn't feel her bare muscles scraping against the operating table as the doctors did every spell they could to regrow her cells. She wasn't on anesthetics. It was that... eh.... organic material she was floating in.”

She had tensed her body, slightly. Luna looked at him with more focus on him the the story, now. “It wasn't just numbing her. She couldn't feel anything bad. She couldn't panic, she couldn't cry, she couldn't feel pain. She was held in a pod of liquid bliss. It was horrifying.”

“Kestral.” She continued. “I've seen wars. I've fought in wars. I've seen the horrors of watching comrades get butchered and slaughtered. But this?” She scoffed. “There's something wrong with this. I can stand blood and gore on a battlefield. What I can't stand is watching an innocent civilian talk and gawk and wish me luck, completely comfortable with the fact that she's slowly bleeding through open pores due to the fact that she's missing her skin.”

She looked at him with a look of worry that he couldn't recall ever seeing before. She finally directed her whole intent towards him. “I just need to say thank you, Kestral, for not listening to me when I told you to stop this.”

He nodded, taking in each detail in stride. He was surprised to find that she now fully agrees with his stance on the matter. “No problem.” He said, offering a reassuring smile. “While we're on the subject, how are the rest of the families? The ones I had gotten to myself, I mean.”

“They're fine. Everypony is recovering.” She said. She raised an eyebrow. “I'm surprised you asked, though. Do you have personal investment in them, all of a sudden?”

“The point of my being here to help keep everyone safe.” He said. “Is it wrong that I feel a tad responsible for them?”

“No. It's not wrong, I'm just surprised.” She said. “Anyways. The raids were disappointing because only a single house contained changelings. They've since been arrested and are being held for questioning.”

“Do you know how many?” He asked.

“There were six.” She said. “One of them attempted suicide via self-stabbing, but he was cared for.”

He nodded, taking in the facts as they were. “It's a start.” He said. “You might be able to get them to talk, but even if you don't that's still six less for me to deal with. Did you find any plans that might give me a hint on where to look for the others? Or give us a clue on what they want?”

She shook her head solemnly. “Everything in that room was strictly economic activity.” She said. “A good blow against them, but it doesn't get us closer to any true counterattack. Any plans at the other houses were either burned or taken with them. But there's a problem bigger than that.”

He looked at her curiously. “What?” He asked.

“A large portion of the victims were guards, and high ranking ones at that. I fear that they've intruded in our forces for bigger reasons than easy corruption.” She looked at him expectantly.

“You think there's a plot against the government as a whole.” He said, not as a question, but as a certainty. “What's their game, revolution? They'd need the support of the people, which they sure as hell don't have.”

“We're not sure, as of yet.” She said. “All we have are theories, but as we uncover more, these theories keep getting darker.”

“Have you found anything out about a prince?” He asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “No. Any figures or names were drowned in ink. Only the basic letter was seen, that that's if they didn't burn it from the start.”

He nodded. “When I was fighting the minotaur-shaped changeling, he said something about taking orders from a prince. He said it was a prince from his hive. He also mentioned he has a queen.”

“Did he say names?” She asked, urging him for elaboration. “Anything about them would be of use.”

“He didn't use names.” He said. “He said the queen was the benefactor, and that their prince was the one in charge.”

She nodded, obviously having hoped for a little more. “Well, thank you, anyways.” She said. “If you should find anything of use, you know where to find me.”

She stood up, with him following, and slowly began to walk towards the balcony. Kestral stopped just before the end of the wall, paranoid that someone might see them together if he stepped out with her.

“Before you go.” He said, grabbing her attention. “'Hunter' received an offer to speak on what the contents of his letters were. The ones given and taken from you.”

“Did he, now?” She asked, looking at him. “And what did he say?”

“He refused to be bought.” He said. “But, if there was a chance to feed the media anything, this is it.”

She thought for a moment, not moving her eyes from him. “He should keep refusing, then. I'll talk to him another time on what he may tell them.”

He nodded, acknowledging her decision to postpone any …. story-leaking. He thought they might need a safer place to meet from then on...“Feel free to visit my dreams whenever you want.” He said.

For the first time that night, she looked at him with a warm, sincere smile. “Whenever I want?” She asked. “Then, perhaps I will. I would really love to know you better.” She offered a prolonging of her smile, then extended her wings, fluttering them for a second. “Farewell.” She called. She hopped up and caught the wind, flying off into the night.

He decided he should wait a moment before he could walk out and take his place on the platform again. He leaned against the wall, and took a deep breath.

So the exposure of the war room didn't turn out as planned. No matter. He had plenty more time to work with, hypothetically speaking. If the changelings were planning on killing others that were in their way, this would only pressure them to do it faster. It was just a trade, but he was willing to work with it. Besides. Luna knows what kind of ponies they impersonated, so they might have a list narrowed down, at least. And if Luna had her list, then Discord was almost guaranteed to have his.

Not to discredit Luna, or the rest of the government. Discord simply had the advantage of not dealing with due process. A dangerous power, yes, but one that he sorely needed to get anywhere in this.

Speaking of Discord, Kestral decided that it was time to do a little shopping.

He pulled out his cloth compass, and a tapped a few times. He put it up, waiting for that familiar voice in his mind to start acting up again. It was a short wait, and the flat voice came out.

“Yes, Kestral?” Discord asked, in an oddly mundane tone.

“Well, you seem depressed.” He said, striking up conversation.

“I just tracked a suspicious changeling for fifteen minutes to find out he was just trying to meet a mare he's having an affair with.”

“Oh.” He said, not sure how to respond to that.

“Oh the bright side, we now know we can blackmail a certain Mrs. Lecture.” He said. Then he gained a bit of giddiness in his voice again. “Or scare the bajeabers out of them. That ought to be fun.” Kestral just smiled, and shook his head, so Discord continued. “Anyways, what is it that you want?”

He cleared his throat, and made sixteen bars of gold appear, one by one, on the floor before him. He gestured to them, and spoke. “I want to improve my weapons.” He said. He pulled out all three of his guns, and placed them on the floor, gently. “For starters, I want them to hold more bullets.”

“Very well. It's as good as done.”

The rifle floated up first. The release at the bottom of its internal magazine was ripped out forcefully. Random pieces of metal came out of nowhere and formed together in a series of plates, with a few miscellaneous pieces, then bent and turned until a proper magazine was formed. It jammed up into the gun, sealing at the bottom. Discord set the gun down.

Next, the shotgun floated up. Metal from, once again, nowhere flew to where the magazine was tragically shortened. They bent and turned and fitted at the end, followed by a small amount of scratching and screeching. A single clicked signaled the end of the modification as Discord set it down again.

As for the pistol, Discord simply removed the the magazine and replaced it with a longer one. Long enough to stick out the end; Obviously non-standard for the design.

“There you go.” He said. Half of the gold disappeared, leaving only eight bars left.

Kestral nodded in approval. No longer would he have to constantly keep in mind that only a few shots could be placed before he had to reload. “How many can fit in each now?” He asked.

“Ten, ten, and twelve, in that order.”

“Wonderful.” He said. He mulled over what he should get next. He was trying to think of practical things, not just frivolous additions what seemed 'cool'. “Okay.” He said. “Now, can you get me a really good variable scope for my rifle?”

“Hmm.” Discord contemplated. “'Really good' sounds rather vague and ambiguous, so sure!”

The rifle floated up again, and his scope was ripped off and tossed aside, instead of disposed of like usual. Another scope appeared. It was elongated heavily at one end, with odd pieces at either end. As Discord attached it, Kestral observed that the odd pieces were rotating series of lenses. When the wizard was done, the human pulled it close with his own telekinesis, and looked at the four lenses set on his end of the scope. Next to each lens was the magnification on a tiny plaque. '4X' ,'8X', '16X', and '24X' were the choices. On the opposite side, the choices were marked '1X', '2X', and '3X'. He looked through the lowest power for a moment, adjusted the focus, and felt impressed.

“Cool.” He said. “I haven't seen a scope designed like this before. I assume I multiply the lenses to get my final magnification?”

“That's because it was made by my own magic claw. And yes. You catch on quickly.” He said.

Kestral looked puzzled. “It's almost the spitting image of any hunting scope I can remember.” He said.

“I figured it would fit the look.” Discord replied. “Anyways. I'll be taking three thousand for that one.” true to his word, three thousand disappeared in an instantaneous flash of light, leaving a more humble five thousand.

He didn't argue. It was a damn fine scope, and he knew it. He just made sure to put it down extra carefully as he moved on to his next decision. He actually had something in mind, but he had forgotten it, in awe of the modifications presented before him. What was it? It was something that, while he hadn't explicitly needed, felt he could still have much use from having.

Oh, right. He thought.

He pulled out the bow he had stolen a while ago. He held it up, looking at the simple design. It was nice, but it almost seemed made for looks, rather than use. The string was too tight, and left little room before it would surely overdraw and break. “Can you replace this with a compound bow? Preferably with a heavier draw weight.”

“Oh, sure. That'll be five thousand.”

The bow disappeared, along with the rest of the money. In his hands appeared a black compound bow, with a single arrow in it. He gave a tug, judging the resistance, and looked over the arrow. Near the fins, a piece of string went through the shaft several times, before leading back to a large coil set on the bow, the open side pointing forward.

“Why'd you give me a fishing tip?” He asked. He poked at the loose blades on the tip, designed to pierce flesh at the front, and catch it on the back

“I figured you'd need it at some point. Maybe not see, but eventually.”

Kestral decided to passively accept it as a free arrow, rather than fight on something that didn't matter. Perhaps he would think of some use later.

“Well, that's all the money I'm willing to spend right now.” He said. “Do I have any targets yet, or...?”

“Not changelings, no.” Discord said. “Each former safehouse had already been abandoned by the time we figured out where they were, barring one. Those bugs were already arrested, though, so we'll just let them rot.”

He nodded. “Alright.” He said. “In that case, I'm going to go pay the guild a visit. I'm sure they've got a few jobs for me.”

“Ho hum.” Discord said aloud. “Very well. I guess I'll let you go. But keep in touch.”

And with that, the presence in Kestral's mind disappeared, leaving him alone in that clocktower.

He grabbed his weapons, putting each of them within his personal hammerspace. He grabbed the scope last, the one that had been dismantled but not disposed of. He looked it over, and decided to keep it, throwing it into the rift as well. It could be of use. He could use it to spy things without his rifle out, anyways.

He walked out onto the platform again, taking care to ensure the nearby skies were clear. He peered over and saw that the minute hand was just about to strike the topmost position. With the night still young, and a personal objective in mind, Kestral walked back into the room within the tower, and began descending the steps. He stepped at the ground floor right as nine 'o clock hit, letting him know exactly how much time he had for his night of nefarious deeds.

The cloth covered guards gave a silent stare as Kestral passed by. They were armed, but their arms were more for the intimidation of any harassers, as he'd come to find out. If anything, their primary job was to be lookouts for any royal guards, or gangs that were throwing a tantrum for whatever reason.

He passed them, and entered the wide yard that the majority of the less fortunate congregated in. They still stared at him as he made his way through the crowd. They still parted, but they didn't part as far as they once did. He wasn't an unknown factor anymore, to be avoided and neglected. Instead, it was more of a mix, it seemed. Some fear, because he was still just a human in their eyes, and some respect, because he was helping them have food.

They were still mostly silent, as he passed. Unlike the nobles, however, they didn't just to whispering about him as soon as he got further away. Instead, they jumped back to talking to eachother on their own lives and subjects. A few children gazed in awe at him. They were the more fearful ones, but the handful that weren't simply smiled at him.

He continued towards the desk in the center. He stopped about twenty feet away, and waited patiently. Dust was talking with someone, so he tried to be respectful with the fact that he wanted to speak. It was a short wait, however, as Dust pointed to a few things on some paper, and sent one of the other thieves away. As the thief left, he gestured for Kestral to step forward.

He did, and took the seat set in front of his desk. He noticed that there was significantly more paperwork than he was used to seeing on the desk.

“Hello, Kestral.” He said, looking at him with a subtle smile. “Has the city been kind to you?” He asked.

“Very.” He said. “I came to put some more money towards our deal.”

“Really?” He asked. “That's actually something I've been needing to talk to you about.”

“Is that so?” Kestral hiked a leg over, getting more comfortable. “I hope you're not telling me it's off.”

“No, no.” Dust shook his head. “I keep my deals. Remember that ruby I had you go after? The one in the set?”

He nodded, remembering that it took half an hour for him to figure out the code on the safe was one-two-three. “I do.”

“Well,” He continued. “The set actually sold for double what we were expecting. I decided to credit your end of the deal for a few thousand. It was enough for us to owe you one location.”

“Wow.” Kestral smiled at him. “That's generous of you. I honestly wasn't expecting that.” He paused. “So how much am I in credit towards the next one?” He asked, wanting to know where his milestones stood.

“You're three thousand and seventy five bits in credit.” He said.

“Wow, really?” He said. “That's a lot more then what I was expecting. I guess you're about to owe me a second location here in a minute.”

Dust tilted his head slightly. “How much did you bring?” He asked.

“Just over nine thousand.” Kestral said. He pulled off his backpack, and set it on the ground. He stuck his hand in, and made a gold bar appear. He pulled it out of the bag, and set it on the desk, right where a small, open space existed. He repeated the action several times, until nine bars of gold were stacked on the desk, glistening from the lanterns that were hung around the yard. He grabbed a few leather pouches, full to the brim with gold bits, and placed them on top.

“You must really want those eggs.” Dust remarked. “Were they a lost family heirloom or something?”

“They're a friend's, actually.” He said, zipping up his bag again. “I'm getting them all as a personal favor.”

He nodded, understanding his disposition. “Well, then you must be a very good friend.” He observed. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a scrolled. He grabbed a feather, and wrote out several lines, looking off another sheet of paper, before he handed it to Kestral.

Kestral took it, and read the two lines present. They were addresses. There was no frill nor filler. Two addresses, guaranteed to have what he was looking for, or his money back.

Okay, maybe not that last part.

In any case, he had two places to be. He nodded to Dust, and put the paper in his vest. “Thank you. I might be back some time in the morning.”

He smiled, and waved him off. “I'm sure you will.” He said. “Have fun getting around their mercenaries.”

Great. He thought. “Oh, I will.” He said, standing up. “It's been fun, but it looks like you have a lot of paperwork to do, so I'll leave you to it.”

He nodded, and went to work, leaving the human to himself.

Kestral walked away, parting the crowd a decent amount as he went. They still just seemed passive about it, like it just needed to be done . In any case, he waved off the guards as he went, even if they didn't bother to wave back.

Kestral took a deep breath, looking over his potential entrances from the safety of the neighbors' roof. Neighbor to whoever lived in the large mansion in front of him, anyways.

Standing 'atop' the roof would have been generous to say. He would more accurately have been said to be attached to the side. His gravitational acceleration askew, he found it rather easy to stay right behind where the fourth-floor window jutted out, keeping him from being seen from anywhere to his right.

A gaze to his left, towards the front yard, gave him all he needed to know that it was his worst bet on entering the house. A small yard acted as a buffer between the two guards at the door and anything else. He couldn't see them from where he was perched, but he saw them earlier, so he had no need.

To his right, toward the back of the house, there were two guards near the door as well. He had seen that they were further away from the door, but the were facing eachother as well, so it left no blind spots. Another guard was practically waltzing around the garden in the back. Several times the mare looked rather tempted to just jump in the large pool in the center.

Down below, another guard was making his patrol along the house. He just walked from the front yard to the back, and back again. It was a mundane pattern, but it was continuous and concise. Each pass left anything behind that guard unwatched, but not for very long.

The guards were set up so that they were seeing the others on a patterned basis. He couldn't take one out without suspicion from the others, and he couldn't take them all out. He was going to need to be a ghost if he wanted to do this.

He looked up again. On the third floor, one of the room's lights was on. He couldn't tell what was going on, given the room was obscured by a thin cloth veil. There wasn't much movement, though, and any that happened was slow. There wasn't any noise from the room, either, so his best guess what that whoever was inside was performing some relaxing, leisurely activity.

He focused again. The front and back offered few options, so he decided he needed to go in the side here. The biggest problem facing him right then was the fact that the two mansions -his target and his current position- were to far away for him to make a rooftop leap, even with the intervention of a teleport. It simply wasn't happening.

His best bet, he decided, was to get to the other roof, and think of something from there.

Kestral peeked past the window. The guard was making another pass, so he leaned back again. He counted to ten in his mind, then leaned forward, and shifted his gravitation spell. With his boots already off, he slid down the smooth stone of the house with little scraping. He hopped right before he hit the ground, and went into a single roll. He recovered, but stayed low, and got to the wooden fence that separated the two mansions. He put a thumb on the wood, and started using his pyromancy. He burned a small circle in the wood, around his thumb, as fast as he could. He put some pressure, and a small chunk of the wood popped out, giving him an open view of the side of the mansion.

He waited with bated breath for the pony to pass again. The equine did, so Kestral teleported around, some distance into the other yard. With the guard's back turned, he put a foot against the wall, and shifted his gravity again, sticking him to the wall. He quickly ran up towards the roof in a half-run-half-crawl sort of movement. He got his flatbar out, and peered down over the edge. He knew how to proceed from there.

He watched for that guard to make another pass, and he did. He crawled down to the fourth floor and jammed his flatbar under the window. He pressed down, and cracked it open. He put away the tool and opened it all the way. He quickly scurried inward, sure that the guard was about to turn around. He closed it as quietly as he could, and turned around to see into the house.

He was in.

The room he arrived in, as he flicked on a small flame, appeared to be some kind of exercise room. Weights were set against a wall, lined up by size, with a few sets of spandex that looked too much like the eighties. Several rugs laid in a pattern in the center of the room, which seemed to suggest the family exercised together. A slight musk stayed in the air, but he ignored it.

He walked through the room, removing the light as he got to the door. He turned the knob slowly, and pressed forward. He exited the room into a hallway that led to the left and right. In the center was a perpendicular hallway that led to elsewhere. With no real knowledge of where the egg or the safe might be, he had to systematically check each room until he found out.

He went to the right, and stayed as silent as he could. He opened the only door in that direction, and entered. He created another flame as soon as he closed the door. In the center was a table with a granite top, with beakers and test tubes and other doodads that were related to chemistry. Along the wall was a shelf that was given the purpose of holding different powder and liquid chemicals.

The room seemed to be of little use to him, so he snuffed his flame and went out again. He turned to the left, and continued in the direction he came from, passing the small gym on his way to the next door. He got to it, and opened it. Inside that room was trophy after trophy lining shelves, with plaque after plaque lining the walls. It was a room filled with cheap metal and paint, and reeked of nothing but nostalgia.

He closed the door and continued, going to the last room in the hall. He slowly opened the door, and immediately closed it. It was nothing more than a restroom, so he didn't bother to stay.

He turned around and went down the perpendicular hallway. As he walked down, he realized there were only two doors, in the dead center of the hallway, opposite of eachother. He opened the one to the left, and entered. A skylight gave some moonlight, which dispersed evenly throughout the room. All around him were flowers of all kinds. Roses, lilies, daffodils, and any other stereotypical 'beautiful' flower. On the far wall, a whole series of bins contained a plant he didn't recall knowing. Under it was a bucket of what he knew only to be poppy seeds.

He went back out into the hall. Finding nothing of use was no frustration to him. He still have much more of the house to go through, so he simply stepped across and went through the opposite door.

There was another skylight, but instead of greenery, there was posters of star maps and such around the place. On a table, in the center, was stacked books and papers with calculations. Much of it he couldn't read, because it was in that botched Greek-looking language that the unicorns seemed to love to write in their personal items. A telescope was stuck out of an opened way along the slanted skylight, pointed up.

He shook his head and exited again. He went down the hall, and reached a staircase. He descended, making each step as careful and quiet as the last. God forbid he walk on a squeaky staircase. He continued, and reached the third level. It was the same setup as the last floor; A set of hallways that shaped out into a 'T', one room at each of his sides, with more rooms at the other end. The floor plan was flipped, however. The larger rooms were away from the stairs, while the smaller rooms surrounded them.

Of the two large rooms, the one on his right had light coming from the walkways. There weren't doors on that room, so the light easily bled into the halls. He couldn't hear anything, so whoever was in there was doing something very silent. All it meant was that he had to match said silence.

He went toward the nearer door into the lit room, the one opposite of the smaller rooms, rather than down the perpendicular hall. He peeked his head ever so slowly, trying to find any source of life in the room. He stopped as he saw a mare on a stand, wearing what could, by human standards anyways, be considered lewd clothing. She was stuck in a still position, seemingly showing off her body to someone.

The only thing she gave him was a raised eyebrow, so he leaned a little further, and spotted a painter swiping away at an easel. With proof that he was relatively safe, he backed off. He approached the door behind him, knowing he was already out of view of the two mares. He opened the door, and entered. He closed the door quietly, being sure it was sealed before he made another flame.

He looked around, and saw that it was a small room designed for pottery. A pottery wheel stood in the center, with clay dotting all over the stone floor. A small furnace was on the back wall, with a stack of wood and bags of coal beside it. There were only a few pots that were set about, with most of them set as constricted to the corner of the room as possible. A few designs were drawn on large rolls of paper and pinned to the wall.

He mulled around for a moment, then went back through the doorway. He teleported across the distance that was within sight of the two mares in the other room, and went right for the next door. He opened it just as carefully as the last, and became giddily suspicious.

It was a storage room for art. Painting, specifically. Smaller pieces lined shelves along the walls, while frames were stacked from the ground up in the corner of the room. Larger pieces were lined up vertically in the center of the room, held only by what was essentially two massive bookends. On the back wall, though, was the masterpiece; A massive, stretching from that went from the ground to the ceiling, and form a rectangle that was wider than it was tall. Two other paintings were hung to the sides of the larger one.

The frame itself was flat towards the viewer, and have a pure white color to it. Names and dates were etched and colored in at the top left going downwards, with only a few of the names in recognizable English. They stopped halfway down, and left the rest of the frame blank. Inside the frame was four paintings, each representing the four seasons: Spring, summer, fall, and winter, in that order. They were painted individually, it seemed, and set in a way that they all fit together.

What made him giddy, though, was the fact that the room was at least five feet shorter in his perceived depth then the room next to it. Unlike the last room, it also didn't have an windows. It was practically screaming 'secret room' to him. He just needed to figure out how to get in, and he was almost certain of where the entrance was.

He walked up to massive painting in the back, and felt his hand along the back of the frame. A few feet down, he found a small lever. He flipped it, and a small click sounded out, but it wasn't from the painting he was at. The sound came from the one to his side. He looked over, and saw that the smaller painting had released from the wall, and was open wide.

Kestral walked over to it, mildly confused, and looked in. There was a pair of earrings and a large pearl, which he immediately took. There was also a letter, which he skimmed over. It was some kind of cheap 'love letter' if it could even be called that. It was cheesier than a brick of mozzarella. The only thing that stuck in his mind was the date at the top, which read '20-04-01'. He set the letter down, and shook his head.

Surely there was something else? Something he missed? He looked all up and down the safe and felt for anything that seemed odd. It wasn't until he slid his hand against the top edge that he felt a small trigger.

Bingo.

He pressed it, and.... nothing.

He left the safe open, and went back to the larger painting. He tried to pull it open, but it wouldn't budge. He tried to think of why the trigger in the safe did nothing, but he couldn't find a reason. Instead, he decided to search the larger painting again. He swiped his hand down the side, avoiding the one he already used, but found nothing. He went to the other side, and did the same thing. At his chest height was another trigger. He flipped it, and the painting on his right released.

Well. He thought. At least I'm getting somewhere.

He walked to it, and looked inside, wondering what to expect. There was nothing in there except six numbers along the back plate, forming what appeared to be a combination lock. He stuck his hand in, and rolled the numbers to match the date he read on the letter, fairly sure it would work.

It did. As soon as he rolled the last number into place a series of clicks went off, and the larger painting moved slightly. He walked to the other side, and pulled on it. Slowly but surely, it opened up, leading to a small vault.

He walked in, and peered around. The the corner was oodles of money. It was mostly bits, but there was a small stack of gold bars, and -gasp- a platinum bar. He walked over, and immediately made six gold bars disappear, leaving four. He took several hundred bits from the pile, and grabbed the platinum bar.

Once he was done taking money, he looked around the vault, and tried to find Luna's little egg. He looked up and down, finding necklace after necklace after earring after jewel after crappy personal documents, but alas, there was no egg-shaped ornament to be found. He scoured the room, but promptly left when his objective wasn't made present.

He walked through the room, passing by the paintings, and exited the door quietly. He made a teleport across the light on the ground. He continued down the hall, passed the stairs, and reached the third door on that section. He opened it, and entered.

It was another artistic room. Yarn and sticks were tossed about, a paint-bucket of homemade paste was sitting on a wide sheet of paper on the floor, a small vat of water and dyes were lined up next to a sink at the wall. All in all, it was a fairly colorful room. Whoever had domain over this room must have taken much pride in the to-scale castle that was sitting in the corner, made of yarn with a frame of wood.

Another empty room, as far as he was concerned. He walked out, and went straight to the last room in that section of the hall. He opened that door, and stopped, not even entering. It was a kids room, full of toys and such. A quick look around confirmed that the egg wasn't in there, so he simply closed it again.

He turned around, and went to the only room left on that floor that wasn't occupied. He turned the knob, and infiltrated the room, taking in the still, dusty air that permeated the room. Books upon books surrounded him. They were filed away on shelves all over the walls, reaching high to the ceiling. A couple of cozy-looking chairs were placed at the tall window, with a rug and a nightstand separating the two.

He looked around, but there was nothing of interest. He walked out the door again, wondering if there was a second safe in the house as he did. He walked back down the hall, towards the stairs, and-

creeeeeeaaaaaaakkk

Kestral's heart jumped a little, and he took his foot off, and went right behind the corner, to conceal him from anyone that might walk out.

“Clay?” A voice called out. He couldn't tell which of the family members it was, but that didn't matter. “If you're trying to sneak into the pottery past your bedtime again, you'll be in a whole lot of trouble, mister.” She said.

Kestral took that as his queue to leave. He teleported to the stairs, and placed each foot as silently as he could, listening for any sign of that mare coming towards him. She never came, so he arrived at the second floor without threat.

It was a bit different than he had seen in previous homes. To his sides were two carpeted areas. On the left, was a small couch with several children's books stacked up in the corner. A small table was there as well, which had traces of crumbs scattered all over it. To his right, the carpet was covered with toys and playthings. It felt like the lobby to a doctor's office, to be honest.

Further down, where the carpeted area turned to a hardwood floor, a hall extended all the way back, ending where a door met the end. Several doors were staggered out along the hall. He went quietly towards the first one on his right, and cracked it open.

It was bland and impersonal, with nothing indicating use. It was definitely a guest room. He closed the door and went to the other side, only to be met with an identical room. He shook his head, going away from the quarters, and went to the next pair down the hall.

He slowly opened the door, and spied around. It was a child's room. A girl's, from what he could tell. Dolls as such were set about in little wooden castles and houses. Pink and white decorations and posters were thrown about the place. There was a bed against the wall, close to the door, and he made out three little lumps that were snoring lightly, cuddled together.

He closed the door and went to the other side of the hall. He opened it to see a similar image. The colors were more earthy, full of blues and greens and browns. Puzzles and costumes littered the floor, with a deck of cards sitting neatly at the foot of the bed. Three more lumps under the covers were present, but one of them was stirring.

“Dad?” A tiny colt's voice asked.

Nope.

He closed the door, hoping the child wouldn't try to figure out who it was at his door. Kestral continued down the hall, but the only room left was the one at the end. He grasped the handle, and turned it, revealing a large master bedroom.

A gargantuan bed was in the center. It could easily fit a dozen ponies on it, with space to spare. A nightstand was set on the side, with a lamp and some other object on it. Dark drapes covered most of the windows, letting limited light into the room. On one side of the room, a large walkway gave way to a walk-in closet. Even from there he could see the clothing that stared back at him.

He walked in towards the nightstand, and spotted it. The odd object he saw was, in fact, the object of his personal interest. He picked it up, curious as to what the words on it said. He lit a flame to read one of the legs on the blue egg.

“Nothing can defeat an ocean of effort, no matter how slow it is.”

Luna was going to love him once he goes back with it. He made the object disappear. With his objective complete, he decided that he could celebrate the night with a little 'personal shopping' through the kitchen downstairs. He could go by himself food any time, but goods tasted a little sweeter when they were worked for. Plus, homemade cookies were always the best cookies.

He went out the room again, and down the hall, taking no extra time than he needed. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't eaten since afternoon. His stomach happened to gurgle at the thought. Yes, some food would be very nice.

He got to the stairs, but he suddenly heard a bout of laughter. He slowed his descent, keeping a keen eye out for whoever was down there. He got down towards the bottom, but didn't see anyone. A tile path went down to the other side of the room, and hit an intersection in the middle. Like the last mansion, it was four areas cut into sections, but in this instance they seemed to be cut off by walls for the most part. Immediately to his left was the kitchen. It was lit up, along with the unidentified room that was further away on the left.

The room that was further away let out small conversation that he could hear. It was steady, but muffled just passed the point that he couldn't make out what was being said. He slowly poked his head out, trying to see if anyone was in the kitchen. Not a soul was in there; They were all probably sitting in the other room. He carefully walked in, keeping his ears open for anyone that might enter.

The subtle scent of.... some kind of baked good. He looked onto the counter, and saw several plates of food. He walked up to it, keeping the other entrance to the kitchen in his sight at all times. He looked down at one of the plates; It was covered in little, bite-sized sandwiches that seemed to be made for a large number of people to nibble at. He picked one up, and ate it. He nodded in acceptance of the honey-mustard taste, and was pleased at the lack of hay.

To the side was a half-empty bottle of wine, with a cork setting next to it. He put the cork in the bottle, and set the bottle in his backpack quickly. On another plate was a handful of cookies; Delicious raisin and pecan cookies. Next to those, though, was a paper bag full of thick, crunchy potato chips. He grabbed the back, and stuck the cookies in there, making sure not to handle the bag in a way that would result in noise. There was a couple of other dishes, but he ignored them. He grabbed the whole plate of mini-sandwiches, and snuck off to the stairs again.

He went up, and began casually eating all of the sandwiches first. By the time he got to the second flight of stairs, he heard one of the mares call out.

“Hey, girls? Which one of you ate all the chips? And all the club bites?”

He snickered a little as he continued upward, but increased his pace. He was sure it would only take a few dozen seconds for them to figure out something was up. He made his way down the hall on the fourth floor, and entered the gym. He took his sweet time, eating away at the food on the plate. When it was gone, he set the plate down, and opened the window.

He looked over, only barely exposing himself, and waited for the guard under him to make his pass. When he did, Kestral hopped out, and magically shifted gravity. He bolted down and shot across the space to the fence. He hopped over, and he was safe.

Man, I love my job sometimes. He thought.

Barring colorful magic, a new species, or... well, anything that had happened to him in the past few weeks, there wasn't a whole lot that could truly surprise Mr. Petrovski. The fact that the place holding the next target on his list was a rundown antique shop certainly did.

Not to say it wasn't fitting, given the potential age of the object, but he was surprised that it wasn't in some noble's horde, like the rest seem to be in.

He walked into the shop, passing by rocking chairs set along in a row, with paper price-tags tied to them with string. A typical jingle bell let off when he opened the door, signaling his entrance to whoever ran the establishment. A creak went off with every step, sending a tiny wave of dust off the ground.

Doodads and gizmos filled the room. Some of them were nifty little tools, undiscovered, while others were tiny pieces of masterful engineering, waiting to be rediscovered. Toys and trinkets that would make one ponder the meaning and intent behind such things filled some shelves, while documents and stories that were inseparable were placed in careful arbitrary order.

He looked around at the objects. He couldn't even tell what half of them were, but they all seemed to be pleasing to the eye, in some way or another. The way they were aged, yet preserved against the worst damage from time, gave him the insight that these objects were bits and pieces of history, passed through hooves or claws or hands, until their untold stories were set in this little library, waiting to be read.

Or, maybe that was the wine talking. His friends did used to tell him he got philosophical when he drank.

In any case, he looked at each of the oddities contentedly. A few swipes at one dust-covered jar in particular revealed a live fish in it. He watched it swim around aimlessly, completely careless in its actions. It looked healthy, but he wondered how long ago it must have been fed, if dust was creating a film around the jar. At least the inside was clear of any and all gunk.

P.E.T.A. Would be up in arms over this.

He looked towards the back, at a middle-aged shopkeeper that waved at him.

“If you have any questions, just ask.” He said. “I'm not closing any time soon, so feel free to browse, too.”

He nodded, and looked back at the jar.

“What the hell?” he looked closer at the jar, making sure it wasn't some trick of the light; It wasn't. The fish had disappeared! How odd? The dust pattern he left was just the same. Where did that fish go?

He shook it off. It must have been a hallucination. Yes, that was it. The jar must have always been empty.... but then, why have a jar of water for display?

Oh, whatever. He thought.

He turned and went towards the shopkeeper, who put his hooves up on the table, almost excitedly. “Can I help you, sir?” He asked.

“Yes, actually.” Kestral said. Looking around the place, he realized that it would probably be much harder to find the damned thing in a stack of ancient everything than to just ask for it. Besides, the keeper looked like he could use the money. “I'm looking for something specific, and I was told you have it.”

“Well, I have lots of things.” He said, leaning his head on his hoof. “Just what exactly are you looking for?”

“I'm looking for these little egg-shaped stones.” He started. “They're a little smaller than my fist, and have a metallic stand with four legs. Each leg has a quote on it, but the four are the same quote in different written languages.”

The stallion took in the information for a second, then smiled as he came to a conclusion. “I do have that piece, actually.” He said. “In very good condition, too. Let me get it for you.”

He walked around the counter, and went to the corner. He filtered through a stack of old jewels and jewelry, before he grabbed something from behind them all. He took it and walked back to the counter, setting it down for Kestral. It was just like the others, but with a color ranging from pale yellow to a rich gold. The metallic legs and band around its waist were of a silver color, perhaps tinted ever so slightly a jade color.

“Beautiful.” He said, pointing at it. “May I look at it look at it closer?”

“Go right ahead.” He said, pushing it slightly to Kestral.

He grabbed it, and turned it over, reading the leg with English on it. “Navigating a mountain is good. Moving a mountain is better.” It read. He turned it over, examining it over and over, then put it down again, at which point the shopkeeper spoke again.

“It really is a beautiful piece.” he said. “I heard that Princess Celestia herself has a similar one; Said to be the only thing that glistens a brighter white than her own body.”

“I've heard.” Kestral said. “How long has it been here?”

“This one?” He gestured to the egg. “Years. Nobles try to get it for cheap all the time.”

“Really?” He asked. “A piece like this? What was their asking price?”

“Five hundred bits was the average.” The shopkeeper deadpanned. “I know my shop is humble, but for something like this it was just downright offensive.”

“Offensive? That's outrageous.” Kestral remarked. “This piece is worth no less than three thousand bits.”

“Three thousand...?”

“Is that still too low?” He asked.

“Hm? No, that's just what my typical asking price was.” He said, slightly confused.

“...”

“...”

“Twenty-nine hundred.”

“Twenty-nine-sixty.”

“Twenty-nine-twenty.”

“Twenty-nine-fifty.”

“Twenty-nine-fourty-nine and a half.”

“You can't cuts bits in half.”

“I can damn well try.”

The two stared at eachother for a moment. The shopkeeper studied Kestral, until the human in disguise gave another offer.

“Three thousand even, and I get that jar with the disappearing fish.” He said.

“Slicks?” He said. “Sure. Just remember that you don't need to feed him.”

“What?” He asked. “How does he eat?”

“Oh, he eats at where ever he disappears to. He just really likes that jar. Can't guarantee he'll stay forever, though.”

“Oh, cool. He just teleports or something?” He asked, intrigued.

“Yeah. He does.” He said. “But like I said. No guarantee. He might be gone forever starting tomorrow..... no refunds.”

“Yeah, okay. Deal.” Kestral stuck his hand in his satchel, and materialized one gold bar after another, putting three of them on the counter.

The shopkeeper smiled at him, and pushed the egg to him, which he promptly took. “Thank you for your business, sir!”

“Thank you.” He said.

On his way out, he grabbed the jar with the dust wiped from it. Oddly enough, the fish had returned, and was swimming around just as carelessly as before. He shook his head, and made his way into the late night moonlight.

And with that, it was time to visit Luna. After a pit-stop at home, of course.