Author's Notes:

Well, here it is. It took a bit longer than usual, I know, but it's here.

Some of you may have noticed that I had revised the previous chapter. I decided the attempt at Middle-English wasn't worth the effort.

“Kestral?”

He heard the sweet voice call out to him, but he paid it no mind. In whatever lull he was it, he was too complacent to really react to anything. He felt a pressure against his head. It was hot. Burning, more like. The pressure subsided, but he felt it linger, like the ghost of a memory.

“Kestral, are you okay?”

His hearing became clear, and his eyes slowly opened. A glance around showed the windows were letting in a little light, letting him know that it was, in fact, day time. He looked to his side to see Navi, with a worried look on her face. He put his hand against his head, pulling back at the coat of sweat on it. The room felt cold, and he had a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach.

Did he have a nightmare? He didn't remember dreaming at all. His morning was forgotten to his mind. But where did the anxiety come from? There wasn't anything unusual going on that day.

He brushed it off. He made his vest disappear, leaving him in his shirt and pants. “What?” He asked Navi, fairly sure she said something. He grabbed his shirt and began moving it out and in, pushing fresh air to his skin.

“I asked if you were okay.” She said. “You sounded like you were hurt, and you're really hot.”

He nodded, and kept fanning himself. “Thanks for the concern.” He said. “But I'm fine.”

“Okay.” She said cautiously. She turned, and walked towards the kitchen. “Just making sure.”

After a moment, he paused. Navi didn't get out of school until three thirty. Was he really asleep the whole time? It was longer than his usual six hours. Perhaps last night was more taxing on him than he realized.

GRRRRRR

A swift reminder from his stomach, however, let him know there were more important things to worry about. He slowly walked to the kitchen, and poked his head around the corner. He spotted her at the table, with the contents of her bag spilled around her. She had a pencil in her mouth, writing away on some paper. On the center of the table was the dusty glass jar holding Slicks, who twisted and turned in his liquid world.

“Hey, Navi.” He said. “I'm about to go to lunch. You want to come with?”

She dropped the pencil and looked at him. “Well, I told my friends I'd hang out with them after I did my homework.” She said.

Kestral gave a half-shrug, as if pointing out something obvious. “Well, do you think they want to come along too?” He asked. “Heck, I'll buy whatever they want to eat.”

At that, her face lit up. With a speed that surpassed Usain Bolt on his best day, she tossed everything back into her bag, threw it on, and ran for him. She tackled his torso in a quick hug, before dropping down and moving in front of him. “Thanks, Kes!” She said.

“Heh. No problem.” He said, smiling. He threw on his disguise, and they walked out the front door. A wall of oddly cold air hit them, before being overtaken by the more expected warm breeze. He shrugged it off as nothing too unusual, given the nature of the weather.

And so, Kestral stepped off, with Navi leading the way.

Kestral walked calmly under the large sign that read 'Sundae's Confectioneries & Lunches'. Navi, Brisk, and Tailor, on the other hand, bolted inside, only barely missing the elderly couple that were walking out. He nodded, muttering an apology, and grabbed the door with his free hand, letting them exit a bit more hastily.

He walked in, breathing in the scent of sweets that permeated the air. He looked around, and spotted Swift of all people. She was sitting in the back corner, near the counter, looking back at him with some amount of interest, before looking away. He continued looking, and saw his three youthful companions at a booth on the wall. He walked over, taking a seat next to Navi, while Tailor and brisk sat on the other side.

Navi already had her homework out, and was bouncing between it and her conversation. The other two were just going on and on about some rumor that was going around.

Brisk, an admiral blue colt with long, sapphire hair tied in a ponytail, bounced this way and that, never staying in one spot for more than a second. His boundless energy was a fair contrast to the filly next to him. Tailor, with salmon pink fur and short, curled, blonde hair with a white highlight, sat almost contentedly. The most common reason for her to move was to adjust any hair that got caught on her horn; Barring that, she simply sat and listened to her companions, speaking when needed.

After a moment, Kestral reached in his satchel, and pulled out a bag of bits. He counted them out, and placed them on the table, getting the attention of the other three.

“Okay.” He said. “Here's twenty bits. You can split it however-”

Suddenly, the little filly known as Swift popped up next to Brisk, grabbing his foreleg. “Hey, Brisk!” She said, almost ignoring any of the other people at the table. “Let me buy you a shake!” She pulled on him until he gave way.

He gave a confused shrug as he was pulled away. “Okay.”

They watched him for a few seconds, before Kestral gave a light cough. “Twenty bits for the two of you, I guess.” He said. After a moment, he looked over at the mare that dragged off Navi's friend. “Will he be alright?”

Tailor shrugged. “She's been doing that today. She totally likes him.”

Ah, young love. He thought.

Navi hugged him, then hopped across the table, scooping up the bits. Before she got away, though, Kestral managed to get her attention. He put another eight bits in his hand and gave it to her. “Do you mind getting me something too?”

“Sure!” She chirped. “What do you want?”

“See if they have anything without hay.”

She nodded, hopping away with her friend.

Kestral whipped out the newspaper that was in his hand, and put it down on the table. He read over the headline again: “GOVERNMENT DEVELOPMENT: A NEW WAY TO FIND CHANGELINGS?” He looked down further, already enticed by the potential news.

“Late last night Princess Celestia announced that a team of scientists had engineered a new way to see through changeling disguises. How the spell is performed is unknown, but one thing has become clear; It uses the aid of changelings that have volunteered themselves in an effort to fight what many have come to call 'the other hive'.

Chrysalis continues to deny anonymous accusations of orchestrating the attacks and abductions, and has refused to comment on the development of the spell. She has, however, begun to open up on her interaction with the human 'Kestral'.

'I didn't know he was dangerous, at the time.' She says. 'News of Ponyville hadn't traveled yet, obviously. I felt he was an oddity, but there was nothing unnerving about him. He only called me “ma'am”, so I suspect that he didn't even know who I was when we met. He even kissed me, before he left.'

Chrysalis neglected to mention that Kestral had run away the moment a shriek was heard, making him the prime suspect in releasing the powerful pheromones in Celestia's room that night. Chrysalis's involvement is still under heavy questioning, but she has been nearly silent to the press on it."

He skipped a couple of paragraphs that he deemed to be useless, until he found a few covering the scientists. Right about then, however, a squeaky voice grabbed his attention.

“Food's on its way.”

Kestral put the newspaper down, looking at the filly who was now sitting comfortably at the other side of the table. She held a waffle cone and licked away at the two scoops of ice cream on top, licking her lips every few seconds.

Navi popped up next to her, with a number card in her mouth and a cup of ice cream balanced on her head. She spit out the card and put it on the stand in the middle of the table, then hopped over, sitting next to him. She leaned forward, letting the cup slide off onto the table.

One day, he thought, I'm going to figure out how they do that.

Navi looked up from her ice cream, and spotted something that seemed to surprise her. She looked at her friend Tailor. “She's coming back.” She said.

As if she already knew who Navi was talking about, she just asked. “Is Brisk with her?”

Navi nodded, and watched Brisk lead Swift back to the table. He hopped up next to Tailor and sat down, looking at Swift. Swift hopped up too, and pushed a large sundae onto the table. It had four scoops of ice cream, each of different flavor, and two bananas, and was covered in whipped cream, chocolate syrup, caramel, and cherries.

Kestral shook his head. Hope you two don't get stomach aches.

He took a mental note that Swift made it a point to not look at either him or Navi. He didn't think anything of it, and simply picked up his newspaper, letting the kids start whatever conversation they wanted.

“When asked about the project, Aurora, one of the leading wizards, gave a few useful details. 'Honestly, we'd still be locked away in laboratories if a volunteer changeling hadn't stepped in to help us.' She says. 'Due to the nature of the situation, anything regarding the spell is confidential. However, I'm able to say that the guard will easily be able to tell a disguised changeling from a pony without any invasion of privacy.'”

So, Celestia hasn't been sitting on her ass this whole time. Good to know. He thought.

“Princess Celestia had previously received some heated arguments over the need for martial law, most of which were summarily dropped the moment her majesty mentioned potential financial loss due to curfew. Since the announcement, all but a couple of nobles have dropped support for more drastic action.

Ponies of all classes, however, are financially supporting the decision, making donations where they can-”

“Here's your sandwich, sir.”

Kestral put down his newspaper, and saw a lean stallion setting a plate in front of him. He put away the newspaper, making room on the table. The stallion put his plate down, along with a glass of water, then put a second one in the center of the table, and took the number card. He gave a curt nod, and walked back behind the counter.

“You got mozzarella sticks too?” He asked, looking at the second plate, then at Navi.

“Yeah.” She said. “You can't have just ice cream. That's not healthy.”

He gave an amused snort. “Your mother is going to kill me.” He muttered under his breath, before he turned to his own food. He released the jaw on his mask, and began eating away.

He grabbed his glass, wanting a drink of water, but paused when he saw movement. He looked in the clear glass, under the layer of ice, and lo and behold, a familiar fish was present in the water.

“What the...?” He asked. “Slicks? Why are you in my water?” He pointed an accusing finger at the fish.

Slicks simply stared, and hit the glass with his body once.

“Oh, whatever.” He said, putting the glass down.

“That doesn't seem healthy for the fish.” A calm voice said to his side.

He snapped his head, and saw a short mare, with aquamarine fur and magenta hair with a chocolate highlight. She held blue eyes that were eerily familiar, and spoke with a certain commanding tone.

“He's... special.” He said slowly. He grazed over the mare, and wondered how she walked right up next to them without his notice. Hooves weren't meant to be silent, especially on wood floors. “May I ask your name?”

“Huntress.” She said blandly, but offered a wink with it. “And you're Hunter.”

Hi, Luna. He thought. Thanks for the blunt clues, I guess. “I am. Were you looking for me?”

“I was.” She said. She casually looked around the room, as if making sure there weren't any suspicious people around. She settled on him again, and threw a foreleg behind her back. She pulled a scroll from seemingly nowhere, and handed it to him. “Our employer wants to go through two couriers, now, to throw anyone off.”

He nodded. “And where should I find you, should I need to deliver a message the other way?”

“The dead drop is in the letter.” She said.

With not even so much as a goodbye, she disappeared in a flash of light.

He shrugged, putting the letter down on the table. “I'll be right back.” He said. He threw his legs out from the booth and got up, and headed towards the counter. He grabbed the cashier's attention, and tossed a few bits on the counter. “Could I get another glass of water please?” He asked.

“Uh, sure.” He said. “Water's free, though, sir.” He said, grabbing a glass. He put it under a nozzle, and filled it, before handing it to him.

“Thanks.” He said, walked back to the table. He sat down, putting the glass down towards the edge, and grabbed the scroll. He untied the seal, placing it in his back, and unraveled the paper. He squinted at the small writing, making out the hastily written cursive.

“Kestral, I pray this letter finds you dear.

An attempt at finding changelings in the locations we recovered last night proved successful. Apprehending them, however, was apparently more difficult, as the changelings had escaped our custody. It was not, however, without a gain. We have discovered that some of the enemy changelings have infiltrated the Thief's Guild.

This discovery puts me at great unease, as it has great implication on how far their reach truly is. I find it necessary to ask you to take care of this problem ahead of others, if at all possible. If it is not taken care of quickly, I fear that word may get out to the noble and middle classes. Please understand that class warfare is one of the very last things we need in this situation. In any case, do be more careful in your dealings with the guild.

The dead drop is located at EverSpring Park, on the south side. Next to the wall, towards the center of the thicket, there is a tree with a safe in its hollowed cavity, hidden behind a fake layer of bark. The code of the safe is as follows:

This will be our standard for communication from now onward. Please, do not send me messages directly unless it is an emergency. I will be checking the safe both dawn and dusk every day, and leave my own messages at the same time. Please, try not to be there at the same time as me, and try not to draw attention to the area. Make sure no one finds out of the safe.

I will not be visiting your dreams for some time. I do not know how long, but it is safe to say it will be until the changelings are taken care of at least.

Sincerely,

Luna”

He nearly rolled the scroll up again, until he realized that there was more ink on it further down. He stretched out the end, revealing more to the message.

“P.S.

It has become apparent that the changelings tend to infiltrate higher income homes with large amounts of social influence. If your tactics are to search at random, it may be useful to start with noble areas.

P.P.S

It was suggested to me that if you were to make a bloody and brutal scene of an enemy changeling in front of a crowd during the day, it may push them into making a mistake due to supposed drastic change in tactics by your part. I think such an attack would be risky, but if you feel capable of doing it, then I feel it would aid us to put pressure on them. They may either press harder, and make a mistake, or back off, and give us more time to find out what they're planning.”

He took a deep breath, going over the letter again and again, and he realized that something didn't add up. Why did Luna need to stop visiting his dreams? Did it have something to do with the changelings? If it did, what did they do? If not, then what else would keep her from visiting his dreams? Maybe she just had a lot on her plate.... no, that didn't make sense. She listened to maybe a hour's worth of court over the night, and he knew it. Still, there had to be a reason she couldn't talk to him that way, right?

And, if they infiltrated the Thief's guild, then why hadn't they tried to pull anything on him yet?

He needed to ask her. Of course, that's not all he needed to do. In the meantime, he needed to buy pencils, scrolls, some wax, some ribbon...... maybe some string.....

Hmmmm......

He shook his head. It was something he'd have to take care of later, among other things.

He rolled the scroll up again, and put it in his satchel, along with the seal and ribbon. He set the bag in his lap, and went back to his food. While he ate away, he settled back, mentally going over the shopping list in his mind. A moment later, he spoke up.

“Hey, Navi.” He said, getting her attention.

She looked up at him with ice cream smeared across her face, somehow getting it to cover most of her muzzle. “Yeah?” She asked.

“Do you know of any shops that sell messenger supplies?”

She shrugged. “You could ask the girl that owns the quill shop down the street.” She said.

“Okay. Thanks.” He went back to his food, and she went back to whatever conversation she was in previously.

Well. He thought. I'd better pack up soon. Not sure how long this might take.

Kestral swatted away at the unnatural scent of cleaner. As he entered through the mahogany door, it attacked his nostrils in a way that he was once used to at some point in his life. But now, it almost felt dirty to smell something so clean. He supposed it was due to the ill-frequency of bathing for most, but the stench was something he had conformed to.

A massive shelf greeted him, covered in scrolls of different lengths and design. Some of them were plain, others were drawn with a border, and a few were cut to have patterned edges. At on side of the room, the short shelf held an array of different quills, most of them dyed two colors, though a few were covered in some kind of exotic design. The bottom row of the shelf was filled with bottle after bottle of ink, with the largest being a gallon in volume.

On the opposite wall, ribbons and string filled one half of the shelf, while pamphlets and title-less books filled the other half. A broom and dustpan stood in the corner, acting as guardians that protected the spotless floor he stood on.

He walked around the shelf in the middle. On the back wall, a counter greeted him, along with an eccentric mare offering him a wide smile. She gave a forceful wave, and didn't take her eyes off him, even to blink, it seemed. Behind her, a massive wallpaper showed suggestions for custom seals. One was the pony equivalent of the jolly roger, another was a claw, a third was a heart. There was a moon, a sun, half of each, the face of a pony, a wing, a horn, a paw, a skull, a goat, a bull, a sword, a shield, a mace. The list of things kept going on and on, each one bringing a new element to the table of ideas. Beside the pictures, a list of prices for seals was laid out.

On the rest of the wall, container after container of colored wax was set on shelves, with the largest ones set on the ground. Two doors were behind the mare. One was closed, marked with 'owner only' on the door. The other, though, was wide open, and filled with metallic objects the size of bits. Most were a gray color, with only a few pieces given a shiny coat.

He walked around silently. He snatched a few dozen scrolls, bunching them up under his arm. After that, he grabbed a large roll of string, making sure it was strong enough for his purpose. He walked over to the counter, and put it all down in front of the mare.

She clopped her hooves together in excitement, then started counting the scrolls he had. “Will that be all, sir?” She asked.

“No, ma'am.” He said. “I'll need a large bottle of wax.”

She nodded, and bolted over to the wax for a second, before sliding it next to the other items he grabbed. “Will that be all, sir?” She asked, tapping away at the register.

“Sure.” He said, reaching into his robe for a bag.

“That will be forty-seven bits, please.” She said.

He pulled out the bits he needed, and set them in front of her. She started counting them, but he continued making another pile, counting to himself another hundred of them. When one bag ran out of bits, he put it up, and got another out, not missing a step. She eyed him curiously, but didn't say anything. When she put it all in the register, he spoke.

“Before I go,” He started. “I was wondering if it was alright for me to make a seal.”

“Sure.” She chirped. “What kind of design do you want?”

“I apologize.” He said. “It may have sounded like I wanted to commission you. I meant to ask if I could make the seal myself, using your equipment.” He paused. “You see, I need to make a seal that her majesty, Princess Luna, will recognize, but something that is secret to the public. It cannot be one that people might see frequently.”

She looked at him with uncertainty. “Well, I'm not sure.” She said. “Have you used the equipment before?”

“No.” He admitted. Before she spoke again, he cut her off. “I have a hundred bits right here for you,” He gestured to the money. “If you show me how to make one, and let me make one.”

“Hmm.” She thought pensively. “Okay, but you have to keep the door open.”

“Sure, sure.” He said. “I have no problem with that.”

She nodded, and counted out the bits, probably making sure he wasn't trying anything. After a moment, she opened the half-door that separated him from behind the counter. She led him into the open door, and to a large desk with a hole in the center. She gestured for him to sit down, and he did.

She walked around him, grabbing one of the metal coins. She put it in a clamp, suspending it over the hole in the desk. She grabbed what appeared to be a pen, and gave it do him. It wasn't a pen; It was a sharp diamond glued to a stick, essentially. “Use the diamond to scratch away at the graphite until it's in the shape you want. Keep it over the hole, and scrape any dust in there. When you're done, pull back the lever to get it out.”

She walked to the other side, where a glowing heptagram was carved into a different table. She grabbed a long pair of tongs, and put the piece in its arms, and looked him. “After you get what you want, hold it over the rune here for fifteen seconds. No more, no less.” She said.

“What does the rune do?” He asked.

“It makes the graphite harden.” She said. “There's some some scientific reason, but I forgot how. Anyways, just don't put your hand directly over it, or you'll need to amputate.”

He nodded, and she continued.

She walked over to a large metallic container, and gestured to a bucket at her hooves. She grabbed a strainer, and put it on the bucket. “Wash it off in the water to get any final particles out of the cracks. Once you're done with that, you'll use the strainer to coat it in metallic paint.” She pointed to the open container that was standing next to her. “Let it drip dry for about thirty seconds, then wipe it off with this towel. Any questions?” She asked.

“Nope.” He said.

“Okay.” She said. “I'll be right outside if you do.”

He nodded again, and she left the room, leaving him alone.

Kestral popped his knuckles, and grabbed the piece she used as an example. He put it in the clamp, and picked up the diamond rasp. He put the tip on the graphite, and stopped. He realized that he wasn't quite sure what to carve. He was no artist, so it had to remain simple in design, which was probably the better choice regardless of his skill. At the same time, though, it needed to be something special, something that was tied to his person.

He started scratching away. First, he formed most of a cross, with the intersection missing. Then, he put a dot where the intersection would have been, making sure there was a decent gap between the dot and the lines. To finish it off, he scratched in curved segments near the edge of the piece, with similar gaps that separated the curves and the lines. He blew on it, removing most of the graphite dust from the piece.

He released it from the clamp and looked at it. To him, it was most certainly the shape of cross-hairs for a rifle's scope, though it might take some explaining to Luna the symbolism. Regardless, he was sure he'd be the only one with a mark like that.

He stood up, and moved next to the rune. He grabbed the tongs, and used them to hold the seal. He followed the mare's instructions, holding it over the rune for fifteen seconds. He counted it out, staring at the flaring colors that spat out in rhythm. When the time was up, Kestral pulled it out, and put the tongs down.

He grabbed the piece, and toss in into the strainer as he approached. He swirled it around in the bucket of water, swashing it this way and that, making sure it was perfectly clean. He pulled it out, and dipped it into the metallic paint, doing the same thing. He pulled it up, and let it dry for thirty seconds, then nabbed the towel at the side. He turned the seal over, catching it in the cloth, then rubbed it over, making sure it was as dry as could be.

The final product was almost perfect. It was smooth, shiny, and silver, and was just what he needed. He put it away in his rift, and walked back through the door.

The mare smiled at him as he exited the counter. He gave a curt nod as he grabbed his supplies, and stuffed them in his bag, making them disappear into his rift as he did. “Thank you, ma'am.” He said.

“No problem, sir!” She chirped. “Make sure to tell your friends about me!”

“Oh, I will.” He said. With everything packed away, he walked towards the front door. “You have fun.”

“Thanks!” She gleamed.

He shook his head, and opened the door. As the dwindling sunlight greeted him, and the fresh air blew across his layers, there was a single thought that ran through his mind.

God, I never thought I'd hate the smell of cleaner so much.