"Quick Fix, you've made bail," said the guard. "You're free to go. Your family is here to pick you up."

The cell door swung open on rusted iron hinges, revealing the wreck of a pony named Quick Fix. Her mane was a rat's nest of split ends, her coat was matted and dirty, and her wings were a mess. She wasn't sure when was the last time she had them preened.

Quick Fix looked up at the guard, her eyes baggy and slightly bloodshot, and said in a tired voice, "I don't have a family anymore."

The guard gave her a sympathetic look. "Well, then you have some really good friends," he said.

Quick Fix was led through Ponyville's very modest guard station. The mare at the front gave her another sympathetic look as she reached below the desk with her magic, a routine that sadly had become all too familiar.

"Here are your belongings, Ms. Quick Fix," she said. She placed a pair of worn saddlebags on the desk along with a clipboard and some forms. "I'm sure you know the routine by now."

"Sure," said Quick Fix emotionlessly.

As she filled out the paperwork, a mare came up behind her wearing a brown jacket and a gold star badge. "Ms. Quick Fix? My name is Marshall Long Runner," the mare introduced herself. Quick Fix looked up from the clipboard. The other mare was an earth pony of slim build with well-defined muscles. She had a short cropped brown mane, a tan coat, and two interlocking horseshoes for a cutie mark. Long Runner looked like she could have easily been a military mare.

Quick Fix's eyes suddenly got wide. "Is it my baby?" she asked, dropping the clipboard. She quickly moved to be directly in front of the other mare. The marshall tensed reflexly, one hoof moving back and ready to fight if necessary. Quick Fix remained oblivious and moved forwards, desperation clear in her voice. "Have you heard anything about my Scootaloo?!"

The marshall, to her credit, spoke in a professional manner but was still ready to act quickly. "I'm afraid not, ma'am," she said. "That's not my department. I'm here for another reason.”

Quick Fix visibly deflated. "So... you haven't...?"

"Ma'am, I'm here to issue you a summons," said Long Runner. She reached into her jacket and retrieved a slip of paper, the provincial seal and the seal of the magistrate emblazoned on top. She passed it to the pegasus mare before continuing. "You been ordered to appear before the magistrate's office to be held accountable for your recent actions."

Quick Fix stared down at the paper, the typed words appearing as a jumble of nonsense to her scanning eyes. She looked back up at the marshall, confusion and disbelief clear on her face. "What?"

"Ma'am, you've been arrested three times in as many months for trespassing and breaking and entering into government buildings. The local judge may have waved the previous charges in light of your recent losses-"

"Don't you say that!!" Quick Fix's wings flared and her eyes narrowed. The summons was thrown to the floor and stamped on by an angry hoof. The other guards in the station were immediately on edge. "My baby is still alive! They promised to bring her back! She's alive, damn you!!"

The marshall was having none of it. "Ma'am, I need you to calm down or else I'm going to have to-"

"That's enough," said a stern voice. Another earth pony mare, this one a mottled grey with a steel tinged mane, stepped between the other mares. "Now I won't be having any of this nonsense in my station, clear?"

The marshal eyed the newcomer. "Captain Steel," she greeted.

"You've done your bit, marshall," said the captain. She bent down to pick up the trodden summons. "Don't you worry. We'll make sure that Ms. Quick Fix gets to the magistrate, no problem."

The marshall spared one last glance back at the pegasus before giving a respectful nod to the elder mare, then turning to leave the station.

The captain sighed and motioned for Quick Fix to follow her to her desk.

"Quick, you've really done it this time," said the captain. She spoke as if she were addressing one of her own fillies that had just been sent to the principal's office. "Breaking into the military records office? What were you thinking?"

"They're lying," mumbled Quick Fix. "Everypony is lying to me."

"What?"

"They said it was the changelings in the Badlands, but there's been no reports of changeling presence there for over a year. They never even made mention of the rescue party crossing the Badlands border. And why would they go into the Everfree Forest first, huh? Why? Because it wasn't changelings, that's why! They lied to all of us and they are hiding the truth!"

Steel pinched her brow. This wasn't the first time she had heard this rant. "Quick, come on now. No pony is lying to you, you know that."

"Something took my little girl and they are all lying to me!"

"We already told you before, Quick, the EUP is on the case. They'll find her."

"It's been five months! Why haven't we heard anything from Canterlot?!"

"Princess Celestia told us that-"

"CELESTIA IS A LYING WHORSE!!"

All activity in the station stopped. The only sound was Quick Fix's heaving breath. Her eyes suddenly widened as if she just suddenly realized what she just said. "I- I mean-"

"Go home, Quick Fix," said Steel. She got up and led the distraught mare towards the station entrance. "Pearl is outside waiting to take you home."

Quick Fix trembled. "I don't have a home..."

Steel nodded, sighing in sympathy. It had been almost four months since the pegasus' house had burned down. The report had said that the fire had been an accident, one caused by Quick Fix's own neglect. Apparently, she’d lit some candles near some window drapes one night, then suddenly left her home for several hours without snuffing them out properly. Magnum and Pearl, whose youngest daughter was among the three foalnapped fillies, had since taken the lone mare into their own home, offering her comfort and companionship. Even little Spike did his best to cheer her up in his own way.

As Quick Fix exited the station, sure enough, there was Pearl and Spike, standing just outside. Their faces lit up and they rushed to meet their friend.

"Oh, honey," said Pearl, nuzzling the other mare affectionately. "Oh, we were all so worried!"

"Don't scare us like that," said Spike, offering a gentle pat on Quick’s shoulders.

Captain Steel took the time to fill them both in on the court summons. The news was upsetting to say the least. Pearl, in all of her good-natured being, refused to budge from Quick's side, doing her best to offer comfort with physical contact. This gesture was neither returned nor acknowledged by the blank-staring pegasus. Steel assured them that she's send a guardsmare to pick up Quick Fix at the appropriate time and that Quick Fix shouldn't try to leave town. Pearl assured the captain that they'd keep an eye on her.

The walk home was punctuated by longs periods of silence, occasionally broken by Spike's juvenile attempts to start a conversation.

"Nice weather we're having," he said, looking up at the sky.

"Un," came a noncommittal grunt.

"Think that there's snow scheduled pretty soon," chimed in Pearl. "Guess it's time to break out the winter wear, eh?"

"Un."

Spike perked up a little more. "Cloud Kicker sure is doing a bang-up job leading the weather team, huh?"

"Un."

The unicorn and the drake frowned. The group lapsed back into silence.

After a while, the trio arrived back at the Magnum household. The modest home looked like any of the countless others that filled Ponyville; two stories tall with a straw-thatched roof and whitewashed walls. It sat next to a small creek with a little dock from which Magnum would occasionally fish. Recently he had started to share the hobby with Spike, a bonding activity which the young drake found very pleasant.

Since Sweetie Belle’s disappearance, the couple had lost their sense of wanderlust. They canceled their upcoming vacations and instead dedicated themselves to helping their eldest daughter Applejack and the rest of the families affected by the tragedy. Magnum had become a staple member of "Guys Night", supporting Big Mac and Spike and receiving their support in turn. Pearl had taken an active role in helping AJ with her boutique, focusing her talents on the business side of things while Spike supported her daughter emotionally.

Things had really improved for the fashionista. Thanks to the newfound support from her family, not to mention some financial support from the Crown, she had even begun to sell some of her clothing again. It became known not for groundbreaking fashion statements, but for graceful simplicity, a trend that was catching on in the rural communities. Applejack seemed happy for this turn of events and Pearl and Magnum were filled with pride for their girl once more.

As the group opened up the front door, they spotted the white mustached stallion in the dining room. Magnum stood from his seat at the table to greet his wife and their friend.

"Oh, thank goodness," he said with a nuzzle, a gesture that the pegasus did not return. "Oh Quicky, ya don't know how much you had us worried."

"Sorry," she murmured and silently turned towards the stairs.

"Hey, hon?" called Pearl called from the bottom of the stairs. "Why don't we all have a pleasant dinner tonight? And just... talk about all this, okay?"

"She's right, don'cha know," agreed Magnum. "It's not good to keep this sorta stuff bottled up, eh?"

Quick Fix paused at the top of the stairs for a moment, but then turned towards her room. The door closed without a word.

A long gaze took in the whole of the room. Like the mare, it was a mess. The bed was constantly unkempt, the floor was covered in discarded clothes and boxes of salvaged belongings, not to mention the collection of empty bottles. Both Pearl and Spike had tried numerous times to get her to clean the room, always with gentle words and worried looks. But their requests either fell on deaf ears or were met with promises of "I'll do it soon," or "I have a system."

On one occasion, while Quick Fix was away, Spike had snuck in to try and at least change the sheets and clean the floor. When the mare arrived home early, she had nearly tossed Spike out of the window, screaming at the top of her lungs. It reached a point where Magnum had to intercede and push her away while Pearl stood over Spike protectively. Afterwards, things were tense between the group, but Quick Fix did eventually apologize.

The little family quickly learned to respect the mare's belongings. Especially her map wall.

Actually, the wall above the mare's bed and desk was more of a tapestry of maps, as well as letters, pictures and notes, all tied together in a mad web of red string. After weeks of no reports from the guard or the Crown, Quick Fix began her own inquiries. She wrote letters to the commander of the guard garrison in the south and to a few old friends who were stationed there. While the commander had written back that he was not allowed to communicate anything that might involve military movements (but that she had her sympathies and hoped for the best), her friends told her that they hadn't even heard of any rescue party heading their way.

More letters were sent to Canterlot, each asking for help and information. The replies came back saying that they were unable to do anything, that they wished Quick Fix the best, and that she should put her faith in Celestia and the rescuers.

Quick Fix's distraught mind soon spiralled to dark places. She became convinced that there was some sort of conspiracy bent on hiding the real truth about what happened to her daughter. When she pried further, she was met with quiet but stern resistance. A week into her investigation, she received a letter from the Crown, saying that special dispensation would be given to the families involved in the changeling attack. It came with a check for 5000 bits, with promises of more to follow for the duration of the "crisis".

Quick Fix felt like it was a bribe to buy her silence. She became determined to get to the bottom of this conspiracy.

And so her wall became a map of interconnecting events. But as she looked it over now, the only thing it showed was her own growing delirium.

A photo taken from a concealing bush: a pair of thestrals speaking with Mayor Mare in front of town hall.

A map of Everfree with 'X' marking one half and question marks all over the other.

A newspaper article extolling the virtues of the members of the rescue party.

A picture of the Night Tower in Canterlot.

A candid shot of a grey unicorn stallion with a cutie mark of a large tome speaking to a Canterlot noble and a guard officer.

The red string led nowhere but in circles and dead ends. She’d started breaking into buildings, scraping for any clue that could lead her somewhere, always finding nothing and only getting thrown in jail for her efforts.

It was clear that the ponies in Canterlot were hiding something.

Something that they could never let the world know.

“But what?”

It was obvious.

“No.”

It was staring her in the face and she’d just been too stupid to realize it.

“Please no.”

Princess Celestia had allowed for her own sister and star pupil to drag along her herd on a pointless rescue mission to save her daughter and friends. And those poor souls had all gotten themselves killed in the attempt.

“But that would mean…”

The news would have shaken faith in Celestia’s rule. Who could ever put their trust in a ruler that had allowed such horrible things to pass to such beloved heroes? To her faithful student? To her long-lost sister?

“They promised…”

So the ponies in charge had done everything they could to cover it up and hoped that society at large would lose interest and move on.

“Please no…”

They paid off the families to keep them quiet.

“My baby…”

Because the real truth was-

“My baby girl.”

-that her daughter had been dead for months.

“Scootaloo.”

Quick Fix curled up onto her bed and wept silently in the dimly lit room.

Hours later, after the sun had passed high noon, Quick Fix remained in bed staring at the map on the wall. At the mess that her life had become.

Her daughter was dead. And there was nothing that she could do about it. No pony was going to help or even avenge her. Whatever had really happened, Princess Celestia had covered it up and made sure no pony would ever know the truth. And she had chased after the lie like the stupid little filly she was.

Now? She had nothing. Even if her daughter returned tomorrow by some miracle, what would she be returning to? A burned-down house that had reeked of liquor and depression. A herdless mother that was going to be sent to prison for years because of her own foolishness. Scootaloo would have been placed in foster care the moment she arrived.

Even earlier, the way Quick Fix was living her life.

So. Quick Fix had no stallion. No herd. No daughter. No home. No job. And she knew it was only a matter of time before Pearl and Magnum got tired of her presence and threw her out. All her other friends had left her a long time ago.

Quick Fix sat up and wiped her eyes.

She got up and walked over to the map. Carefully, so as not to tear away any of the paint, she began to take down the string, the pictures, and the notes she had taped to the wall. She stacked everything neatly into piles before putting them into the trash bin.

Quick Fix looked around the messy room. “I really should have listened to Pearl and Magnum,” she said to no one. The bottles lying on the floor were picked up and added to the bin as well. The bed was straightened and made neat, pillows fluffed, sheets folded and blankets tucked. The windows were opened and the curtains drawn back.

The pegasus paused at the sight of her work. There may have been a stubborn stain or two on the floor but the room was clean again. With the afternoon sun pouring in through the windows, it looked just as homey as the day she moved in. A small smile crossed her muzzle and she let out a contented sigh.

Quick Fix quietly made her way downstairs. Through the front window, she saw Magnum and Spike sitting on the end of the dock, a pair of fishing poles between them. They were talking about something but she couldn’t tell what nor did she really care. She moved into the kitchen, an attempt to slip out the back door.

“Quick Fix?” The pegasus turned and saw Pearl looking through the mail.

She smiled at the unicorn, though it was a hollow gesture. “Just going to get some things in town, Pearl,” she said.

“Oh, alright, hon,” said Pearl with a nod. “Would you like some company?” She had already stood up in anticipation.

“No, that’s okay. I just need to grab a couple of things. I’ll be back in an hour.”

The plump mare looked slightly dejected, but still gave a nod and a smile. “Oh, okay then,” she said, before perking back up. “Say, why don’t we fix something special for dinner tonight? Spike and I can go into town and get some of those crawfish you love so much.”

Quick Fix nodded her head. “That sounds lovely, Pearl. Thank you.”

“Don’t you worry none. A nice hot meal and you’ll be right as rain. Spike is such a talented little cook.”

Quick Fix had already tuned her out by the time she got to the back door. The mare wrapped a ratty old scarf around her neck and muzzle, a memento of older, happier times. The weather had turned brisk, with winter just around the corner. The sky was teeming with weather ponies in preparation for the first snowfall. It was a short walk through the alley to avoid Magnum and Spike, then she was out on the main street.

As she walked, she saw the looks ponies gave her out of the corner of her eye. It was the same looks she had been getting for nearly five months. That mix of pity and sorrow, others of disgust at her unkempt appearance, raised hooves to cover hushed whispers. Occasional slips of “herdless” and “drunk” reached her ears. These looks were nothing new. She had been getting them for years, long since before Scootaloo disappeared.

She reached her first destination: Berry Punch’s Wine and Liquor store.

The little brass bell jingled above her head as she entered the store. The pungent smells of cinnamon, cloves, and oranges clung to the air as ponies came in to purchase the store’s signature mull spice mix. Quick Fix spotted the owner behind the counter, a large ceramic mug gripped in one hoof as she took a long pull.

“Ah,” sighed Berry, smacking her lips in satisfaction. The mauve mare turned back and called out, “That was a great mix, Ruby! Good job!”

“Thanks, mommy,” came a voice from the back room. A cursory glance over the counter revealed a similarly-colored unicorn filly on a stool at a counter, grinding something up with a mortar and pestle. Ruby Pinch’s cheeks were smudged with a dark red powder. Next to her was another mare, this one a pegasus with a black and yellow striped mane. She smiled down at the little filly in a motherly way.

Berry turned and saw Quick Fix for the first time. “Quicky!” The mare walked around the counted to give her a quick hug, one that Quick Fix stumbled into. “We missed ya last week! Off on another hunt for the truth again?”

“Yes, sort of,” mumbled Quick Fix. “I think it was my last one, though.”

“Yeah, I heard they threw you in the pokey last night. Too bad. I know that Steel can be a real hard nag.”

“Hopefully, it will be the last time for that for while too,” called out Honeybee.

Quick Fix turned to the pegasus. “Hey, Honeybee,” she said, her voice still quiet. “I’m… I’m so sorry for your loss. I only just heard a little while ago… while I was, um…”

Honeybee’s eye softened a little, her smile turning sad. “Thanks, Quick,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

The death of the eldest Honey sister had come as a shock to the little town, but there were few that truly mourned her passing. Honeydew’s herd and her sisters held a small funeral, though few came to attend it.

The gossip mill had run rampant with rumors of a gang killing and sordid business surrounding the brusque mare. Honeydew had received a lot of negativity for her outspokenness against the resident human and other non-equines. And the melon seller had only grown louder and more insufferable after the papers published so many sterling articles about Lero soon after he left. But once the reporters caught wind about her bigoted attitudes, things had reached a tipping point.

For not only did Honeydew start receiving more than her usual amounts of scorn from her neighbors… the journalists had apparently begun digging up some fascinating newsworthy nuggets about her.

Honeydew had ended up leaving for Baltimare just a month after Lero’s departure, where she stayed a while before soon turning up murdered in a hotel room.

The guard quickly rounded up the suspects: a small, local gang of some notoriety. Quick Fix vaguely recalled other details about the Baltimare gang’s ringleader claiming they’d been framed, some weird rumors about a diamond dog, and something else about a cheerleading outfit, but it eventually became too hard to tell what was true or not.

Regardless, Honeydew was dead.

“Though to be honest,” Bee continued, snapping Quick Fix back to the present, “for me, Dew really passed away long ago. Especially after the way she’d been treating Honeysuckle.” Even though the words were somewhat callous, Quick Fix still heard the tinge of sadness in the other mare's voice. For whatever Honeydew had become, she was still Bee's big sister.

“So what can I get you, Quicky?” Berry asked, hoping to change the subject. “I still got some of your usual stuff, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Oh, uh,” Quick hesitated. For the longest time she had been drowning her sorrows in cheap bourbon and wine. When she could, she would sometimes sneak in some of Macintosh’s moonshine, though the stallion was always hesitant to sell it to her. And ever since he had his trip to the hospital, she had been unable to get any.

Quick Fix glanced around the shop, before her eyes settled on a locked glass case.

“I’ll actually take some of that,” she said pointing to a certain bottle.

Berry followed her gaze. She wasn’t smiling anymore. “Woah,” she breathed in disbelief.

Quick Fix was pointing to a bottle of Gryphon Rare 10-Year-Old bourbon. The bottle was actually closer to fifteen years old now. Berry Punch had bought it when she first opened up the shop, more as a display item than anything else. It had been purchased from a travelling merchant who picked it up from the Aerie it was first distilled in. It had been sitting in that cabinet ever since then.

“Uh, Quicky,” said Berry, “you sure ‘bout that? I mean-”

“Tonight is a special occasion,” said Quick Fix. She put on a genuine smile, one that held held both Berry’s and Honeybee’s attention.

Berry’s eyes widened. “Oh, Quicky,” she said. “I understand.”

Quick Fix raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

“Sure I do,” said the earth pony, sympathy on her face. “I got so nervous my first time in front of the magistrate too.” Quick Fix deflated slightly. “But don’t you worry, sweetie. Things will turn out alright. Tell you what, I give you a special discount on that bottle.”

Another empty smile. “Thanks, Berry,” said Quick Fix.

She ended up paying for only half of the sales price for the bourbon. Quick Fix placed the bottle in her saddlebag and left with a fond farewell.

The poor dear.

Her next stop was Ponyville’s pharmacy, run by another of the Heart sisters, though Quick Fix never remembered which one. Her next item was purchased with little fuss. The pharmacist even said that she looked like she could use it, with how tired she looked. Quick was sure to put it in the bag opposite of the bourbon to avoid suspicion.

Wait, what is she…?

The walk back to Pearl’s home was uneventful. She arrived to an empty house. The couple and the little dragon were still out, no doubt getting the food for tonight's dinner.

It was such a shame. Quick Fix really did love Spike's crawfish soup.

When she reached her clean room, the mare looked into the mirror and saw the dishevelled state she was in. One bath and thorough scrubbing later, all her grime that had been building up was gone. As she allowed her hair to dry, Quick Fix took the time to carefully, meticulously, preen her wings. The ritual was so very different from what it used to be; before there had been another to do it with her, which always led to more intimate things.

Now, freshly washed and preened, Quick Fix sat in front of the mirror and did something she had not done since Scootaloo was still in diapers: she put on makeup.

In a previous life, she had worn it almost everyday. Cannonball had always said that she looked so beautiful with that light touch of blush and eyeshadow. Though it had been years since she had even touched a her old kit, the same kit given to her one Hearts and Hooves Day that lifetime ago, her nimble wings helped her apply the blush and shadow.

Quick Fix, I know what you're thinking. Please don't do it!

The pegasus reached into an old tin box, slightly singed from a fire. There were several items in it; the only things that she saved from the fire. She pulled out two objects. The first was a large, brown feather, a primary feather that once belonged to a pegasus stallion. It was fixed to a brass pin, one that Quick Fix clipped to her ear.

The other item was a old and worn photograph. It depicted three ponies: a stallion, brown in coat and purple-maned, tears threatening to fall but too happy to care; a mare lying in a hospital bed, looking sweaty and tired but with the most blissful smile in the world; and last was a newborn filly, with her mother's coat and her father's mane, her tiny wings as downy and soft as clouds.

It was the only picture of them as a real family.

Oh Sisters, please, somepony do something!

The mirror creaked slightly. Quick Fix ignored it.

She walked over to the bed, resting the photo on the nightstand. After pausing to think for a moment, she took out a pen and paper. The message was a single sentence.

"I'm going to be with my family."

No! Listen to me! She's not dead! She's here! We're close, we can still find her!

The bottle of bourbon was opened. Quick Fix savored the rich aroma. A small sip to steady her nerves.

Quick Fix! Don't do it!

The bottle of sleeping pills came next. A dozen in her mouth, washed down with a long pull of liquor.

NO!

She was feeling woozy. She picked the photograph back up and gave it a kiss. With drooping eyes, she whispered, "I'll see you soon, my loves."

QUICK FIX!!

The mirror cracked. Quick Fix stared at it. For a moment disbelief and sorrow held sway over her.

...Is-is she looking at-?

Tears welled in the dying mare's eyes.

"Rarity," she whimpered. "You promised me."

No, I-

"Why couldn't you save my baby?"

"Quick Fix!!"

Rarity bolted upright in her bed. Sweat plastered her face and the thunder rolled in her hair. Her breathing came in short, panicky breaths as her heart hammered within her chest. Ozone filled the air around her. Through her tear-filled eyes, Rarity caught brief flashes of white light, electrical arcs from her skin dancing around her body.

Slowly, reality started to set back in. She was in the shared bedroom. She had lied down for a moment while the others remained in the common room to discuss what happened. She had been so tired after fleeing from Gilded Jack's manor.

There was no timepiece in the room and her own internal clock was off-kilter. She hadn't known how much time had passed during her nightmare.

"Oh, Quick Fix," she whispered, placing a hand to her mouth as she tried to slow her breathing.

The morning's discussion came back to her. Talk of prophecy and divination. Luna had said, at the beginning of their journey, that this place felt like the realm of dreams.

Were they connected? Were dreams in the Hedge somehow linked to-

"Oh, you silly girl," sniffed Rarity. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Now you are starting to sound like Twilight."

Of course it was nothing. Just a nightmare, albeit an especially horrifying one. After all, Quick Fix saw her. She had looked right at her and called Rarity by her name. There was no way such a thing could’ve happened in reality! She was here, in the Hedge, and the pegasus was safe and alive back in Ponyville.

It was just a dream.

"But it doesn't make it any better," whispered Rarity. They had been here for more than two weeks, but were just now finding concrete clues to the Crusaders’ whereabouts. She had never known the single mother well. Hardly at all, if she were being completely honest. But after seeing how Quick Fix had reacted after Diamond Tiara was attacked, Rarity could only imagine how she must be right now.

"Time doesn't work here."

A cold feeling settled in her stomach as Kyria's words came back to her. It had been two weeks since they started... right?

"It's been five months! Why haven't we heard anything from Canterlot?!"

What if-?

"No," said Rarity, stamping her foot. "Your nerves are just getting to you, that's all. Calm down and focus on the present."

She needed to cement her resolve and focus on her goal: finding the girls. They had set out that morning to find information and they had done so. Now it was time to compare notes.

And through the wall, it sounded like that conversation was still in full swing.

"You unbelievable dipshit!"

"Would you just calm down?"

"Calm down?! I'm exactly as calm as I need to be right now!"

"Kyria, please-"

"'Oh we have nothing to worry about,' you said. 'It's just a sit-down meeting. What could go wrong?' How about being buried under ten different shades of shit avalanches with an extra helping of fucked sideways!"

Needless to say, Kyria had been... upset at the most recent turn of events.

A quieter voice begged, "Kyria just-"

"No, Rainbow, I can't calm down right now!" Something shattered in the other room. "This is exactly what I was afraid would happen! Not only have you people pissed off the head of the town, but an actual band of privateers?!"

"Kyria-"

"They're going to come for me. They're going to take me back and I CAN'T GO BACK!!"

Rarity took this opportunity to open the door and enter the common room. Everyone froze and looked at her. Kyria was gripping the collar of the Lost's shirt, her other hand balled into a fist but held back by Rainbow Dash. Twilight was wringing her hands through her long locks. Luna looked ready to pull her sword out, and Lyra...

A wet crying filled the room.

"Now see what you did?" Lyra gave the two transformed humans a seething glare from her seat by the fireplace. "You woke the baby." She looked back down at the wrapped bundle in her arms and made more soft cooing noises. "Shh, it's okay. It's just a couple of dummies being dumb-heads. Yes they are. Big dumb-dumbs."

The Lost and Kyria's gazes shifted between each other and Lyra, still holding the same position. After a moment, they relaxed. Kyria sat down heavily into a chair and slammed her head into the wooden table, her horns carving two grooves into the lacquered wood. She murmured something that sounded like "Ow."

The Lost mirrored her, while refraining from any actual cranial trauma. Instead he elected to grab a bottle of liquor and pour himself a healthy amount of amber liquid.

Kyria raised her hand onto the table. The Lost slid the bottle to her, which she took with a muffled "thanks".

Rarity strode into the room, her head held high as if she were walking through the park. "I realize that today's events have... complicated things for us, darlings," she said calmly and professionally, as if she were addressing her weather team. "But now is not the time to lose our heads." She strode over and knelt beside Lyra, gently taking the baby into her arms. The boy whined slightly before looking up at Rarity, a spark of recognition in his grey eyes.

Lyra eyed her herd sister. “You okay?”

Rarity waved her hand. “Oh, just a bad dream, my songbird,” she said. “Nothing to worry about.” Lyra left it at that.

Luna eased her grip on her sword. "You speak with great wisdom, Rarity," she said, once again adopting a regal air. "So, instead let us turn our minds to more productive paths. We know the name and the location of where the abductor currently is. Now the challenge shall be to get there."

"Easier said than done," said Kyria. She leveled a glare at both Lero and Luna. "You two have brought so much hell down on our heads, I'm calling it a miracle that we haven't been dragged out of here in chains."

"Oh gosh," said Rainbow, panic setting into her voice. "She's right! Gilded Jack was the guy that put us up here in the first place!" She cast a wide-eyed glare at the door, half-expecting it to be torn off its hinges at any moment.

"I somehow doubt that," said the Lost, taking another swig of liquor. "It's hard to rally the guards and start a manhunt right after you've lost five pints of blood."

The way the Lost so callously stated this caused a few of the girls to flinch. Memories of the first night they spent in the Hedge came back in graphic detail; the howls of the wolf-things, the sound of slicing flesh, the smell of blood. For the most part, they had been able to justify what happened. After all, they had been attacked by monsters and had defended themselves.

But when they heard what the Lost and Luna did...

Kyria breathed a heavy sigh. "You should have just slit his throat."

“Agreed,” said Luna coldly. “While we were able to leave without being spotted, we are at a conspicuous disadvantage.” She turned to one side with an annoyed “tsk” escaping her lips. “I should have kept my word and removed his head when we had the chance.”

Rarity shuddered. The further into the Hedge they seemed to go, the further from civilization — from sanity — they seemed to traverse. She had expected such behavior from the Lost and Kyria, both of them having spent such prolonged time here, but to see Princess Luna act in such a way?

It left her feeling uneasy.

A glance at the baby brought her own events to light. She had not killed Simon and his crew either. But she was completely justified! Those people were kidnappers and flesh peddlers, total scum that would have been locked in Equestria’s darkest dungeons forever.

‘Besides,’ she mused, smiling at the child, ‘I could think of no better reason for such horrid violence than to save an innocent like you.’

The baby cooed and stared at her. Rarity had never known that love at first sight was actually possible. Even her precious Lero had required time. Then fate had delivered this baby to her.

So adorable. So absolutely adorable. She remembered fondly seeing Pound and Pumpkin Cake for the first time in the hospital. Though their bodies were so different, the baby boy held so many similarities with a foal. Both had overly large heads and smaller limbs, very disproportioned to their adult counterparts. But while a newborn foal could be up and walking in a matter of hours, the baby human looked like it would not for a while. His tiny arms and legs looked like they lacked any kind of meaningful mobility.

They needed mothers to help them. He needed her to survive.

The child closed all five of its tiny fingers around Rarity’s larger one. His tiny fist could barely wrap around the tip of her finger.

‘I’m so glad I have fingers,’ Rarity thought, as her mind melted into a sugary puddle, like so much ice cream.

The baby let go of her finger and tried to paw at Rarity’s breast. He murmured and whined when he couldn’t get past the shawl Rarity wore and began to let out a distressed whine.

“Oh, you poor darling,” whispered Rarity. “I know you are hungry. But there is no food there.” This needed to corrected, at the earliest available opportunity. Surely they had to sell some form of milk at the Goblin Market. Or even better, a magical trinket which would cause her breasts to lactate! Then again, the Goblin Market was a dodgy place to deal in. Didn’t Twilight know a spell for lactation? Rarity would need Twilight to teach her it. She’d master it just as thoroughly as all her weather spells.

Rarity would feed this child as any mother should. This precious addition to her family… her son…

Her mind was going a mile a minute. As soon as they were back in Equestria, they’d need to convert one of the rooms to a nursery. They’d need toys, a crib, cute wallpaper with teddy bears, outfits to dress him up in — oh he’d looked so adorable in a little blue onesie — and such.

Once they were back in Equestria, it might even be prudent for her to remain in this human form for at least a few years, until her son was past the stage of infancy. For all she knew, baby humans responded better to human mothers. She’d be drawing all sorts of attention on herself as soon as she set hoof… foot… on Equestria.

All sorts of gawking disbelief from her neighbors. Requests to conduct interviews from the all the same biologists, hippologists, and journalists that kept visiting Lero: Miss Rarity, could you give us a pony’s perspective on what it’s like being human? Especially one of the female persuasion? Not to mention, her co-workers would be put off to see a human girl perform Weather duties alongside them… but she’d do it.

Having a few more years where Lero could cup these breasts of hers with those wonderful hands of his certainly had its appeal. Having hands which could cup him would also be fun.

If they found the Crusaders quickly enough, maybe she could sacrifice a few weeks of maternity leave; and they could all accustom themselves to taking care of this child.

Then again, perhaps Kyria’s strange Hedge magic wouldn’t work outside the Hedge, and her human form would dissolve at once, like an ice sculpture in the desert. She’d still do her best to nurse her son as a pony. Then, when he got to be a certain age, she’d let him ride on her back, just the way she and all her herd-sisters did with little Spike.

Spike and her son… they were going to be the best of brothers; Rarity just knew it! The little drake would be a good role model for him. A big brother to play with and to learn from, someone to share little adventures.

A part of her wondered how the rest of Ponyville would react to him. Having a new human — no wait, two humans! Kyria would be there, of course! — would certainly cause a stir. A bitter frown crossed Rarity’s face. No doubt that horrid nag Honeydew would have a field day. And there were still some others that refused to even look at Lero, let alone talk to him. Would anypony do the same with Kyria and her new son?

‘Not if I have anything to say of it,’ she thought. Anypony that dared to give her son or her friend any sort of mistreatment, even to look at them in a way that displeased her, would find themselves on the business end of a “misplaced” hailstorm.

Rarity somehow doubted that she would need to do much if Kyria ever faced somepony like that; after all, she was quite capable in a fight, though the girls would have to do something about that temper.

‘We’re going to need a bigger house, though,’ she mused. With four ponies, a man and a woman, a baby dragon, and now a newborn, that library — even with Lero’s and possibly Rainbow’s additions — would quickly become very cramped. And what if her lovely new hummingbird brought all her animal friends with her? There would certainly be no room then.

They might even need to moved the whole herd into a new house. A big one, with lots of room for a growing family. Where hopefully more fillies and colts would be raised.

Rarity could see it all clearly in her mind’s eye. She’d enroll him in a good preschool, then a real school. They’d pack little lunches for him and walk him to school. Lero would teach him so many things, maybe even pick up a craft from him. He would start his trade business again.

“Bellerophon & Son.”

Rarity looked around the room. Everyone else was talking about what they found that day, while Kyria passed out little trinkets that she purchased. Seeing them all work together so perfectly, how could there be any doubt that they wouldn’t succeed? That they couldn’t work together to raise this boy?

They would not spoil him. He wouldn’t turn out like that awful prince who had upset her friend Applejack at the Grand Galloping Gala, nor would he be like those bratty fillies that constantly harassed the Crusaders. She and Lero and the other girls would teach him how to stand on his own two feet and how to be every bit as kind and hardworking and resourceful as his father.

She’d read him fairy tales and Daring Do when he was young, and when he was older, she’d get him to appreciate classic literature, romance stories, and the beauty to be found in a raging storm. No doubt Lero would share stories from Earth as well, the same one that she was be growing to love as well.

The best part was knowing that no matter old Rarity grew, she would look upon this son of hers and think, “I saved you.”

'I plucked you out of these savage and uncivilized lands like a sweet kitten from a pack of alley cats. If I had never come to this place, you would’ve grown up a slave here or died young as some monster’s dinner. But I brought you to my world, and shared with you my love, my home… you knew a good life because of me.'

“What kind of names do human princes have?” The question cut through the others’ chatter and all eyes turned to her.

Lero blinked his eyes, thoroughly caught off guard by the random question. “Uh,” he stammered, “Charles? Albert… Alexander… Richard... Edward… George… William…”

“William,” whispered Rarity, her eyes never leaving the wrapped bundle. She smiled and ran a finger along his soft and chubby cheek. “I like that name. Hello, my little William.”

The baby smiled at Rarity and waved his little hands around. Apparently, William approved of his new name.

“...oh shit,” said Kyria, resting her face in her hands. “She’s named it.”

Lero stood up, looking like he was about to say something to Rarity, but started. He glanced at the far side of the room. His eyes narrowed in confusion before they shifted blue.

“Ah crap,” said the Lost.

Everyone present turned and followed his gaze. Where before there had been a wall with two windows and a fireplace, now stood a wall of sliding doors. Rarity gave a small shriek and stood upwards, clutching William to her chest and backing away.

“What is this?!” yelled Twilight. She rapidly looked around to see that the entire room had shifted. The entryways to the side rooms and the hall had all disappeared, leaving either bare sections or replaced with more decorative furniture.

Kyria gave a snarl before brandishing her staff and shoving her bronze dagger into Twilight’s fumbling grip. “Here!”

Twilight looked down at the weapon, completely at a loss. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Stick whatever comes through there with the pointy end!”

Luna had drawn her own sword, ready for whatever would come at them.

The doors in the center started to slide open. Lyra tensed, dropping into a balanced stance, one foot forward with her fists raised.

The doors slid all the way open, revealing a pair of kneeling, masked servants. They bowed, their heads touching the straw mat floor.

“Our Mistress Jasmine,” they said in unison, “extends a humble invitation to our honored guests, the Lost and company, to dine with her.”

The Lost gripped his dagger as his eyes peered into the new room. It was twice as long as the common room they now occupied, lit with oil lamps and smelling of freshly cut exotic flowers. Several birdcages hung from the ceiling or stood on brass mounts, each filled with brightly colored birds, giving the occasional chirp but mostly filling the room with sweet singing. A long lacquered table, this one so low to the ground that a guest would have to sit cross-legged, took up the center of the room. Seven silken cushions were placed on opposite sides alongside a small basket, perfectly suitable for an infant.

Mistress Jasmine sat the head of the table, looking every bit as regal and poised as when they first met on the docks. Her silver hair flowed down around her head. Her horns were bedecked with jeweled bands that caught the lamplight and shined. The kirin woman wore a green and white silken dress, almost robe-like in appearance, bound in a sash that was decorated in pearls and the darkest jade any of them had ever seen.

“I trust you would not refuse a lady’s invitation,” she said sweetly, batting her eyes.

The Lost bristled at the word.

Jasmine smiled. “You will find no hidden blades here, my dears,” she said, before taking an offered dish of wine. “This place is quite hidden from prying eyes and ears. I do enjoy dining with good friends in peace.”

No one moved.

Jasmine smirked. “That is, unless, you think you can avoid Gilded Jack’s ogres and make it to Madame Mantis’ on your own.”

The Lost gave a snort and sheathed the iron dagger. The others followed suit and stiffly took the offered seats. Luna and the Lost sat closest to Jasmine, their blades removed and resting at their sides, while Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Lyra filled out the remaining seats. Kyria sat at the far end, her staff laid down. Rarity placed little William in the offered basket, but pulled it right alongside her. William whined a little but calmed once Rarity placed a pale hand on his chest. He gripped her with his little hands.

“A wise choice,” said Jasmine. She clapped her hands twice. Another pair of sliding doors opened to reveal more servants, this time carrying large platters of food and jugs of wine.

“I do find that violence tends to put off my appetite. Quite the opposite for intrigue though,” she said, while offering the Lost a dish of wine. “It seems to add a certain flavor that one is hard-pressed to find among the spice merchants.”

The Lost eyed the wine with suspicion.

“You have nothing to fear,” said Jasmine, completely unoffended. “My promise from before still stands: everything offered within these walls is done so free of consequence.”

The Lost hesitated only a moment before taking the offered wine. The rest of the group followed his lead, though the tension had become palatable.

One servant knelt beside Rarity and offered her a platter of white and purple flowers. Curious, she picked one up. It felt slightly heavy and when she squeezed it gently, a thin, white substance dripped from its conical center.

"Mother's Bounty," whispered the servant, his voice muffled slightly by the mask he wore. “For the child.”

Rarity smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered back. The platter was set on the table and Rarity lifted William to her chest. “Here you go, little prince.” William tuck the offered flower and started to hungrily suckle it, a little of the milk dripping down his chin.

The others ate and drank in silence.

After a few minutes, Luna broke the silence. “How did you know?”

“Excuse me?” asked Jasmine innocently, a small morsel of food between her chopsticks.

“How did you know what happened today?”

Jasmine tittered in a very ladylike fashion behind a covered hand. “Why my dear, my little birds told me, of course." She glanced up at a few of the cages.

The exotic birds looked down at them all with an unnatural intelligence.

"There is almost nothing that goes on in this city that they do not see or hear.” She took the time to eat her food before continuing. “And they had quite a tale to tell of you, my dears. Slaying the Flayer in cold blood along with two guards? I must say that I am somewhat concerned with your lack of subtlety, but you did pique my curiosity with the style and passion of your deeds.”

Luna visibly bristled, the astral patterns in her hair flaring slightly.

“As I said, a lack of subtlety. But you, good sir,” said Jasmine, beaming at the Lost, “you I found to be very refreshing indeed. Seeing you work on that miserable little weevil filled me with such nostalgia. Though it was not nearly on par with what you showed yourself capable of in your previous conflicts, I am disappointed to say.”

Rainbow felt a chill run through her, as did the other mares. “His previous…?”

“I have long wondered,” continued Jasmine, “how did you ever come up with that fighting style of yours, Ridire? Did the Lady’s warmaster’s teach you or did you develop it yourself? Regardless, I think that you truly came into your own during the siege at Jormun’s Crossing. The way you cut through the defender’s lines-”

“What do you want?” The Lost’s voice was edged like steel. Like a headman’s axe, it ended the dialogue with an almost lethal finality.

Jasmine hummed a bit. “She always said that you were straight to business. Very well then, to business it is.

“The truth is that you absolutely humiliated Gilded Jack today. You walked into the heart of his operation, killed his head torturer and his guards, then proceeded to turn him into a whimpering, sniveling ball of slime with but a twist of your knife.

“For this you have my thanks.”

Twilight blinked at the calmness with which the kirin spoke. She sounded so… magnanimous about it all. It was such an alien thing to her, hearing gratitude for causing the suffering of another. “But… he’s your friend,” she half-whimpered. “How could-”

Jasmine burst straight into laughter this time, nearly spilling her drink in the process. “Ohohoho, my dear child,” she chuckled. “To hear such naïveté from the mouths of babes.” She ignored Twilight’s look of indignation.

“At the very least,” said Lyra, “Gilded Jack was your ruler, correct?”

Jasmine turned an enigmatic smile to her, the same smile that the transformed unicorn so often wore herself. Lyra's hair swayed more excitedly, as if the invisible water it hovered in suddenly became a strong current. The moment lasted only a second.

Jasmine smiled. "Yes... and no," said the kirin. "Gilded Jack fancies himself 'Master of the Town' because of his gold and his ships. In truth, he is one of many players in a great game and this city is the board."

"And you are another player, aren't you?"

"Indeed," said Jasmine, raising her drinking dish. "You are obviously the more perceptive of your sisters."

Luna narrowed her eyes. "Do you intend to use us as pawns in this game of yours?"

Jasmine smiled again. "No no, Your Highness," she said, "I have played this game for too long to not recognize a new player when I see one." Again her gaze went to the Lost. "A piece that has elevated himself to quite a high prominence. I always enjoyed watching Her move you about, then seeing you take command for yourself. You were truly marvelous, Ridire."

"You keep calling him that," said Twilight. A glance among her herd sisters told her that they were thinking the same thing. "What does that word mean?"

Jasmine turned back to her meal, using her delicate hands to pluck a blood red fruit from a platter. She opened her mouth, revealing rows of small, sharp, reptilian teeth, the first time any of them had seen them. Twilight shuddered. They were very different from what she had expected or ever seen before. For Rainbow, the little fangs reminded her of a monitor lizard's, like the one that had once been in her care back in Ponyville.

The little fruit, which the group recognized as a small Blood Pod, was quietly bitten into, a single drop of the dark red juices running down Jasmine's chin. She wiped it up with a clawed finger.

Jasmine didn't take her eyes off her meal. "I believe you should hear that from your lover instead of myself," she said.

The Lost narrowed his eyes at the kirin but his gaze softened under the concerned looks from the other women.

"It is Their language," he said. "Ridire was... my title. While I was in Her keeping."

"The creature in the glen called you the same thing," said Luna. "You and it spoke the language."

The Lost nodded. "It is... a very difficult language to say the least. It took me years to speak it clearly."

"But what does it mean?" interrupted Twilight. “Ridire?”

The Lost looked down, a heavy sigh threatening to escape his lips. He had figured this would eventually happen, that at least some of his past would rear its ugly head. He had hoped that the night with Mossbeard would have been the worst of it. True, the spriggan had come close to fully exposing his past, but thankfully Kyria's intervention had been enough to quell the vengeful spirit.

But now...

"Knight," he translated at last. He could feel their gazes upon him, an almost tangible weight. But at the same time, another weight was beginning to lift itself. "I was Her knight. I was a soldier first. Then eventually a commander. I led Her armies in campaigns that consumed entire continents."

“Continents…?” Twilight repeated in a whisper.

Luna felt a pang of sympathy for him. She too knew what it was like to lead soldiers through the horrors of war. She knew well the sounds of battle and the stench of death.

The sight of dear comrades falling.

Jasmine smirked. "You were more than that," she said with a devious smile. "I know that She took you into Her bed. You were Her Consort."

Rarity gaped. "Consort?" Her reaction was similarly mirrored by the other women in the group.

"I was Her knight, first and foremost," the Lost snapped. "I..." He looked like he wanted to argue further, but sighed instead. Nothing he could say could make it sound any different from the truth.

"Her favorite," continued Jasmine. "Why, when he first went missing, you should have seen Her. The whole of Her domain was scourged in Her efforts to find him. She went into such a state afterwards, the poor dear-" The Lost had to suppress a cruel laugh. "-She was so distraught. Though She tried many a substitute, none were suitable." Jasmine gave the Lost an almost flirtatious look. "Apparently, none could match your... prowess, good sir."

Rarity felt the lightning within her hair rumble. Twilight's skin flared with the dancing symbols. Luna gripped her chopsticks so tightly the wooden utensils actually splintered in her hand. Rainbow stared at the Lost, a mix of horror and betrayal, but with a hint of pity, on her face. Only stoic Lyra seemed to be unfazed.

Twilight felt her eye twitch. "And you were going to tell us this... when exactly?"

"Yes, darling," said Rarity in a sweetly annoyed voice. "When?"

The Lost shot a look to both of them. "Excuse me?"

"When were you going to-"

"Oh yes," said the Lost, anger rising in his voice. "Let me tell you every horror that I was made to perform while I was a slave. Let me tell you of the thousands — literally thousands — of people I've been made to kill. Let's talk about how I was forced to do things that shattered my psyche — or ‘Lero's’ psyche since you're so dead-set on keeping us separate — and was forced on by a... thing that wanted to take my as a 'lover'. Yes, let's all go into that!"

Kyria shuddered, her hands gripping her skirts. "Hey, look, just... back off the guy," she told the Equestrian women, who looked like they were about to argue further. When they all turned their gazes to her, Kyria's amber eyes flash defiantly. "It's not like any of us... I mean he had a real choice in the matter."

“But…!” protested Rarity.

“Like any of you can possibly understand,” seethed Kyria. "You... you can't imagine what it's like. Like someone... reaching into you and taking what made you yourself. To rip out those parts of you that make you human and fill it with... something else. Make you do these things while you can only sit there and watch and hope beyond anything that it's enough to see the next day." Here, the horned girl's voice became bitter. "You come from a place so fucking cheery and shit, with your storybook lives and perfect fucking world. What could you possibly know about real evil?"

Rainbow's eyes widened, her breath catching. "Discord..." she breathed.

Luna also went silent. "By the stars," she whispered.

Everyone stopped, save for Kyria, to whom the name meant nothing. The Equestrians all remembered the Day of Chaos. They recalled that feeling when the draconequus reached into them and drain out all the things that made them good. That cold and icy feeling as control was taken away, and all their kindness, their loyalty, and goodness were all inverted.

Twilight stared at the Lost in a new light. 'It was like living under Discord,' she mused. 'But so many times worse.' It was a horrible and cruel enlightenment that had been forced on them all, one that they knew too well.

Though it had only lasted a single day, the effects of Discord's return were far-reaching and undeniable. When whole towns fell under his sway and the ponies of Equestria became his playthings.

Princess Luna, for her part, knew even better than any of them. She could recall what life was like during the long, tumultuous years when Discord had ruled over her world as an uncontested king. It was true that Sir Michaelides only knew about Discord’s reign from others’ stories, and was lucky that he’d only begun interacting with the draconequus after Fluttershy had reformed him. But in a sense, he’d already experienced all that Discordant chaos firsthand, through The Lady. At the very least, Discord had never made Luna or her sister a Consort of his!

Luna wanted to reach across the table. She wanted to...

Her hand balled into a fist. This was not the time nor place for such things.

Jasmine took their reactions in with all the amused satisfaction of a smug sadist.

"But I think we have allowed ourselves to be distracted for long enough," she said. With a clap of her hands, servants came to clear the plates and trays.

"So Gilded Jack," said the Lost, regaining control of the conversation, "is your opponent. And you wish to see him further humiliated."

"You are most accurate," replied Jasmine. "If you, someone that dealt him this humiliation, were to escape the town directly under his nose, he would lose face. And that would eventually give rise to a situation I would find to be most beneficial."

Kyria furrowed her eyebrows in mistrust. "So you wanna help us, is that it?"

"By helping you, I shall be helping myself in the long term. However, you are the one that is in most need of immediate aid… aid which is of no small risk to myself." Here, the Kirin's eyes narrowed into that primal predatory glare that only reptiles could display. "I will require a fee for this."

Lyra narrowed her look. "What kind of fee?"

Jasmine smiled again. "The babe."

All eyes turned Rarity, who held William in her arms. She gasped as what Jasmine demanded truly sank in.

"No," she said. She clutched William tightly to her breast and stood up, backing away from the woman at the head of the table. "You can't be serious!"

Jasmine was unfazed. "He is the seventh son of a seventh son. His existence is a true rarity among the mortals, one that has long been valued by the peoples of the Hedge. He is my price."

"We refuse!" shouted Rarity. "I will not let you take him!"

"'Let me'? My dear, you have no other choice."

"Why you-"

"Should you refuse my offer, then you will be cast out of this house. It will only be a matter of time before Jack's ogres find you and capture you. Should you rudely refuse me, I will deliver you all to him personally, and the maggot shall owe me a favor. From there, no doubt he shall sell you all off, or simply kill you for being a nuisance to him."

The lamps in the room flared brightly, casting long shadows across the floor and walls. The kirin's own shadow stretched out along the back wall, growing into something large and monstrous. When she spoke, it was no longer held the levity that they all had heard before. This was like listening to a thousand teeth scrape across steel. "And if you try to fight me, little things, I promise you that it will not be long nor valiant. You will lose. And you will suffer."

The wooden beams above them began to moan and creak. The floor mats trembled. Everything screamed at the group that they were not merely in an inn, but in the center of her power.

The Lost's hands twitched, the instinct to reach for the dagger and carve a trench in the kirin's throat compelling him to act. That brief moment gave rise to a new sound, one of moving bodies and brandished blades. His combat senses told him that behind those walls stood at least thirty servants, all with their weapons drawn. They were waiting for him or Luna to make the first move.

Could they win? He had seen Luna fight. And Kyria could take care of herself with little problem. Lyra looked like she could stand alongside them in a fight. How many could they take out before they escaped?

But there were too many variables. Neither Rainbow nor Twilight were capable of fighting. And with Rarity holding the baby...

Their attention would be divided. And Jasmine controlled the shape of the room. She could separate them on a whim with her abilities.

His glance switched to Luna. She gave a subtle shake of her head, no doubt reaching the same conclusion. Another glance to Kyria said the same thing.

This was a fight they could not win.

"Very well," said the Lost. The room quieted, the lamps dimmed, and Jasmine returned to her calm and regal demure.

"Then your answer?" she asked.

"...we accept."

"WHAT?!" shouted Rarity.

Twilight stood up. "LOST, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"You can't be serious," whimpered Rainbow Dash.

Lyra looked at him in disbelief. "There has to be another-"

"There is no other way," said Luna, her voice carrying a finality. The other women looked at her, gaping mouths and eyes full of betrayal.

"We cannot fight and we dare not refuse. We are in an unfamiliar territory, outnumbered and hunted." Luna cast a glare at Jasmine, who waited with a patient smile. "And she knows this. It will really be only a matter of time before we are found and captured."

Twilight stared at her, her eyes full of tears. "How- How can you be so cruel?" she whispered. "Celestia would never do something like this."

The words stung her deeply. Luna cast her gaze downward. "...I am not my sister."

To everyone's surprise, especially Luna’s, it was Lyra that spoke next. "You're wrong," she said, her voice low. "Celestia did exactly this every day, when she chose to continue keeping this world sealed off instead of storming it and putting its Lords to the sword."

Twilight was taken aback by the grandmaster's callous words. "What are you talking about!?"

"After all, what did it matter once her citizens were safe? Who cares if they instead preyed upon another people who have no innate magic to defend themselves?" Lyra asked, tilting her head at the Lost.

Twilight shook her head. "Wha- No! Celestia didn't know that!"

"Not until very recently, no, but she probably suspected." Lyra turned to face the Lost. "And a few years ago, thanks to Lero, she knew for certain. And she did nothing."

Twilight was shouting. "That's not fair, Lyra! Besides, this is different! She has a nation to protect, not just a single baby..."

Lyra sighed. "No, it's not fair, but that doesn't matter. And the only difference is, Twilight, that one loss is a tragedy... A million is a statistic."

Twilight's mind was reeling. As the logical part of her warred with the emotional, the part of her that so desperately tried to impose order on her world versus the part of her mind — her whole being — that was dedicated to Celestia, she could feel the cold reality of it settling in her stomach. Tears fell anew. "But... There's no guarantee she'd win..."

"It's the same choice that she had, Twilight," said Lyra. Her voice had a sorrowful note. "We’re faced with atrocities we cannot hope to stop, and even trying would just cost us everything."

In the corner, Rarity started to sob, little William whining and whimpering in her arms. "No," she whispered. "No no no, you cannot do this. I-"

"Rarity," said Lero. Rarity looked up and saw hazel-eyed Lero calmly approaching her. His eyes were soft and so full of guilt. He slowly shook his head. "We cannot take him with us."

Rarity felt like she had been punched in the gut. "How can you say that?"

"We cannot take him with us," repeated Lero. "The wilds are no place for a newborn."

Rarity looked between her lover, her herd, the baby; the words echoed in her mind as the rational part of her brain slowly spoke up but she stubbornly refused to listen. "I-I-I can! We can! Lero, we can do this! We'll feed him and take care of-"

"Are you really prepared to do that? To feed him and diaper him and watch over him for every second, out there in the Frozen Marshes? Babies cry, Rarity. He’ll cry in the daytime, and he’ll cry when we’re desperate for sleep. And even if we’re patient enough to put up with that… his crying will be a dinner bell for all the monsters that are out there. And worse things.”

“I’ll protect my William from anything out there!” she swore.

“And what about the next place we go to? Or the next place? Who knows how long it will be or what we'll face on the roads?"

Lero slowly walked up to her, placing his large hands on Rarity’s shoulders. He could feel her trembling. It took all of his will to not tremble as well. He leaned in, their foreheads touching. "Are you prepared to risk losing him out there?"

Rarity's breathing became ragged. “We… we… we… He’s a HUMAN BEING, Lero! Just like you! I’d think you of all people, would empathize with this poor child’s plight!”

Lero felt his heart crack because the truth was that he really did feel for the baby. What he would have given to have been found by an angel like Rarity, or Rainbow, or any of them, all those years ago. To have found him before the thorns and the bloodshed. And fate had led them to this child. They could have had the chance to take him away.

But they were not destined for that.

"It's too risky," he whispered. "We don't know how much longer it will be before we find... what we came here for. And bringing the baby with us puts all of us at risk." Lero put his hand beneath Rarity's chin, gently raising her head until they were looking in each other's eyes. Rarity saw the hurt there, the pain of that Lero was forcing himself to experience.

Lero spoke in such a hushed whisper that only they could hear. "I know what I am asking is horrible. I can never ask you to forgive me for this, because it truly is unforgivable. And a day won't go by that I won't hate myself for doing this. But... we cannot take this child with us, Rarity. I can't risk losing any of you more than I am now."

Rarity stiffened, tears falling from her eyes. "You're asking me to give him up here, now," she whispered.

Lero nodded. "But you get to set the terms, princess."

A moment later, Rarity's eyes widened in understanding. Lero knew that she had caught on. He gave a nod.

Rarity sniffed and wiped her eyes. William whimpered again, to which Rarity gave him a gentle bounce and a quiet shush. She took a deep breath to compose herself, standing straight and every bit the team leader. She strode towards Jasmine.

The kirin rose to meet her and extended her arms in anticipation.

"Before I agree to this, I have my own terms," said Rarity, looking Jasmine square in the eye. Her voice took on the authoritative air so many of the weather ponies knew so well. "He shall not be harmed. Nor shall he be mistreated in any way. He shall not become one of your faceless, nameless servants. His name is William. And he shall be raised in a manner befitting a prince… a noble, honorable, capable and hardworking prince, not some pampered playboy!"

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "You would have me do this thing?" Rarity nodded. "You ask much, my dear. I must wonder what you see in a whelp that you have known for less than a day."

"The only thing I do not see, Mistress Jasmine, is you agreeing to the terms I have set. I can assure you that should you take the time to bring this boy up properly, you will gain more than another menial servant. He shall be... an asset of immense value in your game." The words burned her tongue and rolled her stomach.

Jasmine smiled. "Intriguing. You have that much faith in this boy?"

Rarity nodded. "I do. And should I ever find out that you have done otherwise... then I pray that a storm shall wipe everything that you have built for yourself."

Here, the kirin stiffened. The condition was a harsh one. Jasmine thought for a moment. "The seventh son of a seventh son," she reminded herself, looking at the boy with great consideration. "A 'noble, honorable, capable and hardworking’ prince... yes, very useful qualities, I daresay... the payoff would be worth the risk.”

A pulling sensation, deep within her. Rarity had felt it before, once at the entrance of Jack's manor and again with the Storm. This one though, this felt personal. It was... a pledge between her and the kirin. One that she felt was enforced by a power; an ancient, eldritch thing that could and would bring down misfortune on the kirin should she break her word. "I believe... that we have come to an agreement." Again she extended her arms.

Rarity took a long look at William, his wide grey eyes staring up at her. She bent down to kiss his forehead, he lips lingering on his soft skin as she inhaled deeply, forcing her mind to memorize every latent smell and every detail he held.

With great care, Rarity passed the baby to Mistress Jasmine.

Rainbow and Twilight whimpered in the background. Kyria's long nails dug into her staff. Luna's hand began to shake, the sword rattling on her hip.

"In Stillness, we shall find peace," Lyra quietly chanted. "Let Stillness flow through me and bring serenity." Whether the words were for herself or the others, not even she could tell.

Lero's fist clenched. He could feel the skin beneath his clothes grow taunt, the alien plates beneath the skin shifting and grinding as more skin started to peel away beneath the bandages. He felt that cold dagger sink into his heart. And the chill it brought spreading through his limbs until he was numb.

He felt like a piece of him had just died.

Jasmine looked down at the child with a scrutinizing gaze. At last she smiled wide, her reptilian fangs smoothing into a regular woman's pearly white smile. "Yes," she said, more to herself than to the others. "He shall be more than a mere prince. He shall be a Khan." She ignored their questioning looks and turned away.

A pair of sliding doors opened to the side. In stepped a young elf-like woman, clad in similar silks as Jasmine. Unlike the other servants, she wore only a half-mask, revealing pair of painted red lips and powdery white skin. She was slight of build but had large breasts. Jasmine handed her the baby. Without a word, the unnamed woman slipped one out, to which William immediately latched onto and began to noiselly suckle.

Rarity felt a pang of jealousy run through her.

The woman nodded to Jasmine, turned, and went to exit through the door. Rarity's resolve broke down and she moved forward. Lero stepped between them and grabbed hold of the pale woman. "No, no wait, please," Rarity whimpered and pleaded, but Lero held tight, wrapping her in his arms.

The sliding doors closed and disappeared.

Rarity broke down sobbing into Lero's chest. Rainbow held onto Twilight and Lyra as she started to cry loudly. Both Luna and Kyria had turned away in an effort to hide their own tears.

Lero did his best not to cry as well.

Gladesrest was a marvel during its evening cycle. There seemed to be a whole new piece of the population that came out, merchants that would peddle different wares and foods for the “night” crowd to partake in.

At any other point, the girls may have enjoyed themselves. It was not everyday that they rode in such luxury. Mistress Jasmine's gondola was a massive craft, almost three times the size of the little punt they first arrived in. It had lavish red velvet chairs and lounges on which guests could sit or lay, with small tables filled with decanters of wine and trays of succulent fruit. The craft was propelled by four oarsmen, two at each end; all were male kirin, among the few unmasked servants that Jasmine kept in her employ.

The gondola offered its passengers luxury travel and, thanks to a wooden canopy and bamboo blinds, privacy.

The sleek black craft glided through the canals, under the the red glow of the strings of lanterns that ran across the water, past the throngs of citizens that walked along the shores, Lero and the girls sat in silence, all the while Mistress Jasmine sat and sipped her wine. From behind the blinds, Rarity blankly gazed at the passing lights, dimly aware of both Twilight and Lyra on either side. Even Rainbow Dash, bless her heart, stayed by her side; her gossamer wings fluttered in shared anxiety.

The herd sisters said no words between each other. What could they say? What possible words could express how they felt? They had betrayed their own values, everything they stood for in a single decision to sacrifice an innocent to a terrible fate.

Luna and the Lost sat away from the crowd.

"We made the right choice," said Luna, though the words rang hollow.

"No, we didn't," said the Lost. "There was nothing 'right' about it. We just made the best choice in a shitty situation."

Luna nodded. "Starswirl once spoke of the 'Calculus of Leadership'. Rulers need to be able to make a decision for the greater good of their people, even if that choice leads to sorrow."

The Lost cast a glance back at the girls. "They are so lucky," he whispered. Luna quirked her head. The Lost's blue eyes gazed at the huddled group of women with an envious look. "They grew up in a place that had so little hardship. They never had to worry about life or death, never had to make any kind of tough decision like that. They are so sure in their conviction of right and wrong. Everything is so black and white."

Luna nodded her head. "They never had to truly experience how grey things really are."

"...not like us, Luna."

Luna was silent for a moment. She reached down and gave the Lost's hand a firm squeeze. He looked up, blue meeting blue. Her starry eyes were full of understanding. The Lost closed his eyes and leaned forward, their foreheads touching.

"Thank you," he whispered. Only Luna heard him.

"You as well," she replied.

Silence, then, "We have arrived, Mistress."

The gondola came in for a smooth stop. Heavy hoofsteps sounded as two of the other kirin stepped off the craft onto the dock, line in hands to secure the craft. A third moved and raised the bamboo blinds, revealing a large, wooden platform with a ramp leading up to a bustling causeway. The air above was filled with bright red lanterns.

"I shall have my girl show you the way," said Jasmine. There was a flitter of wings and the little pixie hovered outside the gondola cabin. "I suggest you do not tarry. You may be under my protection for now, but that does not mean that there aren't others out there who won't turn you in. Move with purpose. And when you are done, return here straight away. The Wyvern will have moved again by then."

"Moved?" asked Twilight in disbelief.

"If you are being hunted and your hunter knows where you rest, it is best to move one's lair. A simple feat for myself and one that protects us all."

Twilight gaped. The universe, it seemed, kept upping the ante on what "impossible" really meant.

A chill ran through her as she stared at Jasmine, pieces falling into place and forming a terrifying thought. The power to shift reality around her, the unnatural regal beauty and grace, the casual cruelty towards "mortals", the way she spoke with such intimate knowledge of Lero's past...

"I can assure you, my dear, that I am not Her," said Jasmine suddenly. Twilight started; it was as if the kirin had read her thoughts, a terrifying prospect in itself. "It is true that She is known to wear many masks. But let me ask you this: why mask oneself in the guise of what you already are?"

Twilight looked away, the cold feeling in her body refusing to leave.

Jasmine retrieved a sealed black envelope from her sash. "Take this with you," she said. Lyra took her envelope. It bore a single character, from an unfamiliar alphabet. "It will let you enter. Madame Mantis is very particular about who she lets into her establishment."

"Um, what kind of establishment is this, exactly?" asked Rainbow.

Jasmine gave a small laugh. "What kind do you think, silly girl?"

The blinds rolled down, cutting Rainbow off before she could question again.

"This one shall show you the way," said the pixie with a bow. Up the ramp they went and into the sea of flesh.

The Red Light District was an active one. In a town of eternal night, it couldn't be anything but. Sounds of pleasure and debauchery filled the night air. One place was a tavern, its patrons’ hands filled with drink or pleasure companions, usually both. Others held windows showing off the available merchandise: a fine selection of one-night companions. Female, male, a mix of the two, and other... things. Above and through the windows came moaning and cries of passion.

Like the rest of the city, there was no uniformity in the buildings' appearance, with radical changes in the architecture appearing with every passing step. The sole trait they shared in common was that almost every building held a red lantern at its entrance. Even these varied, some being paper lamps and others glass oil lanterns or neon.

The only thing redder than the lanterns was Rainbow's face.

The group stuck close together, though often the girls found themselves doing double-takes at some of the sights. Even Kyria found herself gawking.

"How the hell is he supposed to walk with that thing?" She turned her head, trying to work her mind around the thought.

Rainbow tried to sputter something and failed.

The seven of them followed Jasmine’s pixie through the crowd, eventually leading them to a large and prominent building. It appeared to be several stories tall with swooping overhangs and a facade in the same style as the Knurly Wyvern. The front of the building was meant for display. Behind a row of square wooden bars was a menagerie of beings, all dressed in a manner that spoke of their trade.

They did not appear to be in any discomfort; the floor was mostly padded reed mats that seemed to be commonplace. The walls were clean, and they sat upon small cushions. Any chains they did wear were delicate gold things, clearly not meant for restraining them, though the Lost knew that those services were most likely offered. Some smoked from long metal pipes with contented smiles. A few leaned towards the bars, enticing potential customers with smiles and smoldering looks.

One freckled redhead with attractive twin pigtails was treating the Lost to the sight of a seductive gyration, her eyes lidded and her smile smoking.

"Do come in, sir," she purred, a slim hand teasing at her cleavage. "There are many pleasures inside for you and your... friends."

A low grunt sound to the side. Standing in front of the door was a large being with scabby grey skin and horns. He wore a tailored suit and a heavy chain hung at his hip. "Look but don't touch," he grunted. "If you can't pay, keep moving."

The Lost took note of a few gashes in the wooden bars.

Lyra stepped forward. "We want to come in," she said with a cheeky smile.

The bouncer grunted again, clearly unimpressed. "Special night," he informed them through a mouth of sharp teeth. "Invitation only."

Lyra removed the black envelope and handed it to the guard. He examined it, squinting at the single character. Glancing at each member of the group, which caused Rainbow to shrink behind Twilight and Kyria, he gave another grunt.

"Fine," he said. "No trouble inside. Or you'll have to deal with me." He reached up and pulled a silken rope. A ringing sounded from behind the large wooden door. A moment later, it opened, revealing a low-lit interior.

"Enjoy your stay," said the bouncer with what may have passed with a smile. The Lost and the others entered without further comment.

As the doors closed behind them, Rainbow gaped again. "Oh... my..."

"Welcome to my humble establishment," said a voice. Madame Mantis entered through a beaded doorway. She was a disturbing sight. The body was that of a very buxom woman, with wide hips, a thin waist, and a very generous bust. She wore a tight red dress, one with a slit that ran from her ankle up past her thigh, teasing a glimpse of black laced panties and garter. Around her shoulders was a grey-furred, mink skin shawl. She was every bit the sight of a bombshell harlot.

Until you saw her face.

As her name suggested, her head was that of an emerald green mantis, mandibles and all. Sprouting from her back was a pair of large green pincer arms. On closer examination, all her ‘human’ skin had the faintest green tint to it, with subtle patterns that reminded them all of insect chitin.

Further enhancing the surreality of the creature was that she clearly applied makeup to her insectile face; lipstick carefully applied to mandibles, blush applied along the side of her muzzle, eyeliner and fake eyelashes precisely applied above unblinking compound eyes.

When the creature spoke, it was with the voice of a very cultured woman that came clearly, despite the clicking mandibles she used for a mouth. “It pleases me to see you here this evening,” she said with a bow. “Anyone that has the honor of a personal invite from Mistress Jasmine is most welcome here.”

Luna returned the nod. “But of course,” she said, without even the smallest hint of irony. “The mistress’ generosity knows no bounds.”

The Madame extended an arm to a servant holding a red lacquered box. “Before I allow you into main floor, would you please be so kind as to turn over you weapons? This is a house of pleasure, not violence.” As she spoke the words, two more large brutes appeared in the doorway behind them. They made no aggressive move other than to cross their arms across their broad chests. “Rest assured that you shall have them back at the end of your stay.”

The Lost and Luna shared a look. They obviously did not want a repeat of this afternoon, so they instead chose to comply. Luna removed her blade from her sash, as well as the Lost and Kyria, and the weapons were placed into the box. The servant took Kyria’s staff (which was too large for the box) and attached a tag to it. He then stood and waited patiently for Kyria to do something. The horned woman gave a loud groan and relinquished several more hidden knifes, jars of flammable paste, and other weapons. With a satisfied nod, he closed and locked the box with a silver key. The Lost took the key and pocketed it.

“Now then,” said the Madame. She extended one of her extra limbs, pulling back the beaded curtain. Music wafted through. “Please do enjoy yourselves.”

The Lost and his companions entered the bordello’s main room. It was large, dimly lit, and appropriately seedy. Despite the obvious Asian exterior, this seemed more at place in Prohibition-era Chicago, with its leather horseshoe booths, chandeliers, well-stocked bar, and performance stage. Glancing upwards towards some of the balconies, he saw that there were several thinly-shrouded booths that made him think of an Arabian harem.

It seemed that this place wasn’t made in the style of any single distinctive brothel décor, but the very idea of a brothel, as if this place could become any brothel at a moment’s thought.

The Lost looked at the others. “Okay, now what?”

Lyra scanned the area the pointed, “Look.”

The Lost followed her gaze. Next to the stage, another servant was changing out a pair of signs. One read, “Now On Stage: The Sorrowful Voice of the Pale Siren” in elegant flowing script. Below it, another sign advertised, “Up Next: The Silken Harpist performs her Guzheng.”

“The Silken Harpist,” said Luna. “She is the one the goblin spoke of.”

Twilight read the sign. “She’ll be on stage soon,” she said. “How should we handle this? Should we make our way backstage and confront the Silken Harpist now?”

“No,” said the Lost. “If she’s expected to perform for an audience soon, they’ll wonder what’s up if we barge in and keep her… preoccupied. We’d draw attention to ourselves, and Madame Mantis would summon her guards. No, we should wait until after the Harpist’s performance, when she goes backstage. That’s when we make our move.”

Rarity affixed the Lost with a glare. “Then what do you expect us to do in the meantime?”

The Lost pointed to an empty booth. “Blend in,” he said.

As they walked through the floor, the girls could not help but fully take in the seedy environment. With the exception of Lyra and to an extent Luna, none of them had ever seen a place remotely like this.

Clients sat in booths or at dimly lit tables, sometimes wandering to the bar past workers of all sexes and shapes. Most of the workers were humanoid, possessing that unearthly beauty that seemed so common in this world. Others looked to be a cross between a human and an animal, or even some natural element; one being looked like she was made of living fire, another looked like she had been carved from snow and ice. Others still were more intangible, conveying the sense that they were more of an emotion or a concept than a being of flesh and blood. Most were female, all clad in clothing that left nothing to the imagination or nothing at all.

Some clients would be led by the hand towards the back of the room, where curtained booths offered privacy. Rarity felt her skin crawl as she glanced into one. A man was sitting there, his head back and eyes glazed in bliss. Two women were lavishing him with kisses across his exposed chest.

One of them looked up, the dim light causing her eyes to reflect like a cat’s. She ran a tongue along her blood-soaked lips and fangs before returning to the two puncture wounds on her client’s chest. The man did not seem to notice the wounds nor did he care. The other woman waved her hand and the curtains silently closed.

While the Lost seemed to be drawing a majority of the workers’ attention, with seductive smiles and brushing hands along his shoulders, no shortage of eyes were paying closer attention to the women in the group.

“Oh my,” came a seductive voice, “what have we here?” Rainbow who had been walking at the back of the group, was cut off by one of the workers. The woman looked very much like a cobra; hairless but sporting the reptile’s iconic black and yellow hood. She was bare-breasted with piercings connected by a thin golden chain, a thing that Rainbow had never even heard of. The only thing she wore wash a white silk sash that covered her waist and nethers, but only barely.

“Uh, I, uh,” Rainbow sputtered. The Lost turned back in time to see the snake woman run her scaled hands along Dash’s shoulders. His eyes faded to a hazel as Lero took over.

“Ssso adorable,” hissed the snake, gently tweaking an antenna. “Do you have a name, sssweetie?” She leaned in close to Dash’s pointed ear. “How about I make one up for you?”

“I-I-I-I’m Rainbow Dash,” stuttered the winged woman. She was growing redder with every passing beat of her hammering heart. And had it suddenly become really hot in here?

The hooded cobra woman ran the back of her scaled, speckled hand along Rainbow Dash’s trembling cheek, her slitted eyes becoming more mischievous by the second.

“Oh precioussssss,” she cooed. Even though she had a set of humanoid legs, her upper body still swayed this way and that, as though to a snake charmer’s flute. “You are jussssst my type. Why, you look good enough to eat.”

A two-foot long forked tongue shot out of her mouth and licked Rainbow from chin to navel. Dash let out a high-pitched shriek and quickly retreated to the others in her traveling party before it could delve lower, hiding straight behind Lero.

Not only did Lero feel his cheeks flush with Rainbow Dash’s face pressing up worriedly against his back, he found himself reminded of the days he’d spent at her cottage, helping her get her animals under control. It was almost funny, in its own way. The cottage had been a mad menagerie of pain, while this place was a mad menagerie of pleasure… and Rainbow Dash was just as overwhelmed, either way.

Just to be feeling Dash’s soft palms on his shoulders… God, this place was getting to him a little, wasn’t it?

The cobra woman just laughed. “Don’t be shy, little moth,” she cooed. She leaned forward, blowing a kiss to Dash. “Come sssee me when you and your friendsssss are ready for sssome real fun.”

Dash visibly shuddered.

“Maybe another time,” said Lero, ushering Dash to the booth. Lero looked down at Dash, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her close. “Hey, you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she stammered. “Thanks for that.” Lero gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

They sat down next to each other on the leather seats. Rarity had taken the center, flanked by both Twilight and Lyra. She leaned in close to them, her expression still distant and dour, trying to take comfort from being near her other loves.

The sight made Lero’s heart ache painfully. How could he ever make this right? How could he ever even begin to do so? He wanted to shift the blame. He wanted to blame the Lost and Luna for making the decision to give up that baby, to blame Jasmine for giving them no choice, to blame Simon Thornewhip for taking that child in the first place, to blame the True Fae and this horrible realm for imposing itself on mortals’ innocent existence.

He wanted to blame everyone and everything.

He didn’t want to blame himself because Lero knew that, at his core, he wasn’t even capable of making those kinds of choices.

He had just reached out for the drinks menu that had magically appeared in front of him upon sitting down when the lights dimmed save for a single spotlight on the stage. Lero’s attention became drawn to the performer who stepped onstage.

She wasn’t very tall. “Petite” was the word that came to mind. Her body was thin, as befitting a woman that looked just out of her teens, but the way she carried herself and the expression on her face spoke of a weariness one can only get through hardship. Her dark eyes were half-lidded and remorseful. The spotlight illuminated her tight, long dress, catching the red velvet of her shawl against her pale skin. Twin silver pins held her maroon and violet hair in a stylish coiffure behind her head.

Off to the side, a dapper gentleman with a floating jack-o-lantern for a head began playing his piano with great skill.

She started to sing in a low and sorrowful voice that filled the room.

“I hear you buzzing, a fly on the wall…”

Her song commanded that Lero submit his full attention to everything she had to say and he wasn’t alone.

“In through the window and up through the hall…”

Every being present was enraptured, from the patrons to the whores, everyone gave the Pale Siren their complete and undivided attention.

“Flying in circles, just trying to land…”

And as her voice climbed, more instruments joined her from nowhere.

“I see you hurting, I do what I can…”

It was a song of loss and want and spite. She held the tall microphone delicately but firmly in front of her, as if it were a man she could not decide to strangle or make passionate love to.

“But I won’t save you…

“I won’t save you…”

The tears were mirrored by Rarity and some of the others. For Rarity in particular, the words “I won’t save you” tore at her heart and made her almost start sobbing all over again.

“Maybe you’re looking for someone to blame

Fighting for air while you circle the drain,

Never be sorry for your little time

It’s not when you get there, it’s always the climb...”

The music affected everyone, all save for Luna and Kyria, who watched with interest but not the same emotional investment. To Luna, who was more in tune with the surrounding energy, it felt like the very air had become saturated with power.

“But I won’t save you...

I won’t save you…”

Nothing grand or imposing in the way she knew it. This was different; smothering but more like a heavy blanket one slept under. It filled the very air, unseen but present, as the Siren plied her voice to the room.

Higher and higher the Siren’s voice soared into a crescendo and the Siren clasped the mic close to her as black tears fell down her cheeks.

“I won’t save you…

I won’t save you.”

And as the song began to end, Luna felt as though the energy began to flow. With the slow deliberation of an outgoing tide, it moved towards the stage with the Siren as the focus.

‘Ah, so that’s it,’ she mused. ‘The Lost once said that beings of this realm fed on glamour, the emotional energy of others. This is how she feeds herself: using her song and on the sorrow it builds in her audience.’

When the next song began, this one to a single guitar, the Siren stared directly at Lero. There was a flash of recognition, if only for a moment. He felt himself falling into those black eyes. Suddenly it was like she was singing directly to him; a solo performance for an audience of one. It was-

That pressure in the back of his head came back. That same sense of warning that would come up every now and then.

Lero blinked. It was suddenly the end of the show.

The pianist began to wind down his music and the entire room erupted into applause, Lero and the girls included with the exceptions of Luna and Kyria. As the Pale Siren walked off stage, Lero turned his attention back to the group around him.

Rarity, Twilight, and Rainbow were quietly talking, tears still fresh in their eyes. Apparently the performance had truly affected Rarity, judging by the gentle touches she received from her family. On the other hand, Lyra, Luna, and Kyria were having a discussion of another, one that was filled with somber tones and distrustful looks. Before Lero even had a chance to ask about it, the lights overhead dimmed again and another round of applause filled the room.

The spotlight illuminated a single figure on the stage. Like the Siren, her skin was pale, almost a pure white. Red eyes looked back at the audience. Her hair shined like platinum cascading down over her right shoulder, displaying a single pointed ear bejeweled in diamond, onyx, and ruby. She wore luxurious red and black silk robes that billowed out around her kneeling form.

Luna stiffened as she took in the Harpist’s appearance. The Silken Harpist was a creature of grace and horror, of beauty and lethality. Like so many things in this world, her beauty was mirrored only by her inhumanness. The Harpist had six eyes, two were one of expect them and four smaller ones above on her forehead. They were a solid red color, devoid of any features, but were so smooth that they looked almost like set jewels. The Harpist’s hands ended in long claws, black chitin shining under the spotlight, began to pluck the strings of her instrument, filling the room with long, sorrowful notes.

Her voice soon followed and she sang in a language none of them could comprehend, nor cared if they could. It was a foreign, alien piece, filled with notes that spoke of a far away land and of promises of exotic pleasures. The Harpist’s music filled the room, giving rise to a tide of emotions that pushed and pulled at the patrons, stroking their desires, much to the pleasure to the workers and, no doubt, the Madame.

“Well,” said Lyra, “now we have a face to the name.”

“She’s the one that took the girls,” whimpered Rainbow.

Rarity narrowed her eyes, the thunder in her hair rumbling with quiet fury. Her hand clenched into a fist, tightly gripping the cloth napkin in front of her.

Twilight put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, girls,” she said, her voice full of confidence. “We just need to wait out a little longer. Just… sit and listen for now.”

And so they waited and they listened. They ordered drinks and sipped them lightly, occasionally having to turn down the propositions of a few of the workers who came to their table, offering their services. They always did this with great politeness. After all, they did not want to give offense to the Madame and cause a scene.

Halfway through the Harpist’s performance, a waitress arrived with a silver tray, bending low and offering it to Lero.

It was a note, sealed in red wax. His curiosity outweighing his caution, Lero broke the seal and opened it. Inside was another piece of paper, black and glossy with a single red character on it. Lero turned it over but there was nothing on the back. The envelope had something written on the inside. There, in elegant, flowing script read the words,

Dear Sir,

A little bird sang me an intriguing song about how you were searching for three lost lambs. Why not come see me alone, sir? Conversations with sirens are so much nicer than those with spiders, wouldn’t you agree?

P.S.

Lero froze, his eyes re-reading the words over again.

Three ‘lost lambs.’ Three lost fillies.

And in this case, ‘P.S.’ clearly didn’t stand for ‘postscript.’ He turned the note over, revealing it to the inquisitive gazes of the women around him.

The reactions were mixed. While Rainbow, Twilight and Rarity’s eyes showed surprise and faint glimmers of hope, Luna and Lyra held looks of suspicion. Kyria was outright frowning.

"This reeks," she hissed, drawing glances from the others. "Oh come on, don't tell me you don't see it too. Someone just happens to send us a note promising information on exactly what we are looking for, even though no one else can possibly know what it is save for one?"

"Jasmine," said Lyra. "The Pale Siren may be one of her 'little birds'. She might have sent word ahead and she's passing along information through her."

"Then why not give it to us back at the inn, huh?"

"Because that wasn't part of the bargain," said Luna, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "She only promised to escort us here and then out of the city. Any information that would come now would also come at an additional price."

"And would put us further into her debt," finished Rarity. She shuddered as thoughts of what that vile woman might demand next played across her mind.

The Lost came to focus, his blue eyes narrowing on the note.

‘Why not come see me alone, sir?’ Of the seven people in their group, he was the only ‘sir.’ Him alone, then...

Something teased The Lost’s thoughts, a feeling that this wasn't from the kirin mistress, as Lyra suspected.

"Jasmine mentioned that there are other players," he said. "This may be one of them."

"That is certainly a possibility," Luna muttered.

“Do you mean the Pale Siren, herself, is the player?” asked Twilight. “Or do you think she’s acting as someone else’s messenger girl?”

Lyra shrugged. “Could go either way. The real question is: can they be trusted?"

The Lost pocketed the note and the black card. "Oh, absolutely not," he said, downing his glass. “Then again we’ll get nowhere if we ignore every lead.”

Kyria frowned deeply. "I really don't like this," she said.

"Me neither," said the Lost as he stood up, "but if this checks out, then we can get out of this place with zero chance of causing a scene. I think we can all agree that we need to keep as low a profile as possible."

The rest of the group nodded their heads. Kyria crossed her arms with a "tsk" but gave no further objections.

"Alright then." The Lost scanned the room before his eyes fell onto a black door with the same red character as the card. It was in the back of the room, near the stage and guarded by another bouncer. The card must have been something akin to a backstage pass.

"Okay, here's the plan," he said. "Stay here, blend in and keep your heads low. If this doesn't pan out, then be ready to leave. I'll try and get out of there as soon as I can."

Kyria gave him a look. "And if things go tits-up again?"

"Then just leave," said the Lost. "Try and get out of the city."

Lyra looked at him suspiciously. "And what? Just leave you here?"

"If that's what it takes, then-"

"Nope," said Kyria. "That's a shit plan. Just like your last plan."

The Lost openly gaped. "Hey! My last plan was not shit! It was just fine!"

"Yeah until things went tits-up. You don't have a backup plan."

"My backup plan was to get us out there."

"Did that include torturing the head of the entire town on the way out and forcing us all into hiding?"

"...touché."

Luna took this as a chance to intercede. "While I'm sure we all appreciate the Lost's concerns for our own safety," she said, "I must concede to Kyria's point. It would be most prudent to have a proper plan should things go poorly."

Twilight nodded. "Agreed."

Lyra turned to the horned girl. "So what would you suggest?"

Kyria rummaged through a pouch and palmed something in her hand. "Here," she said, handing him a small silver coin. "Take this."

The Lost ran a thumb over it. "What's this?"

"Dead Man's Coin," replied Kyria, producing an identical coin. "It’ll sense when you're in pain. Whoever holds the other coin will feel the that one's pain. If something goes wrong, you’re getting backup."

"Clever," he said. "But wait, no, why-?"

"Look, smartass," hissed Kyria,her amber eyes flashing, "we need to get out of here and you need to find those girls, and getting out of here is tied to both. And if that means that I may have to put up with some pain to do so, I will. Because I am not going to end up dying here." She leaned back into her seat. "So nut up, and go visit the whore."

It was short work to show the bouncer at the door the card. Nothing was said, just a stern glance at the human, before he was ushered backstage. The hall stretched onwards, past a ramp that lead to up to the main stage and an area dedicated to storing props and maintenance equipment. Lero walked down the hall and around a corner to a series of doors. He stopped at one with the letters “PS” burned into the wood. Reaching for the door, he noted the many locks fixed to the outside of the room.

'This seems more like a prison cell than a dressing room,' he thought. A pang of sadness went through him. He wondered how many others here also stayed in rooms like these. How long had that poor girl been forced to stay in a locked room?

He pushed those thoughts aside. He was here for another reason. With a twist of the knob, he entered the room.

It was not very big, but still spacious enough for an actress' needs. A good portion was dedicated to a large dressing table with a brightly illuminated mirror. Flashy costumes hung in a nearby wardrobe. Further back was a living area with a sizable bed and standing screen shield. Behind the shield, he saw the shadowed silhouette.

“I knew you would be quick,” came a melodious voice. “Just not that quick.”

The silhouette moved and a dress was thrown over the top of the screen.

“With an invitation like that,” said Lero, “can you really blame me?”

A black silk robe was pulled over the screen. “I suppose not,” said the voice.

The woman behind the screen stepped out, revealing the petite body of the Pale Siren. The silk robe scarcely contained her small form, with the hem barely coming below her hips and the valley of her small bust on full display.

The woman's thin arms crossed her chest, her face showing clear worry. One hand was clearly fidgeting. "Welcome," she whispered. Even that small word seemed to carry aetherial music.

Lero gave a small nod in return.

When she looked his way, Lero noticed that she could never quite look at him directly in the eye. At least, that's what he thought; it was difficult to tell when her eyes were solid pools of black, uninterrupted by irises. Like looking into obsidian with a soul.

A quick flash, a momentary look at his own hazel eyes, but then the Siren’s eyes would focus on something else in the room.

She asked, "Are you thirsty? Could I offer you something to drink?" She reached towards a nearby cabinet full of liquor.

"No, thank you," answered Lero.

The woman stopped, as if she was unsure of what to do next.

'It's a routine,' thought Lero with sudden insight. 'She's been treating me like one of her... clients.' A stab of pity went through him.

"Your note," he began. "It seemed... very specific."

The woman nodded. "When I heard you were coming," she said, shakily pouring herself a cognac. "I knew what you would be looking for."

Lero began to slowly walk around in a circle, eyeing the items strewn throughout the room. "And... where did you hear that from?"

"Like I said; a little bird told me."

Lero nodded. "And... are you one of those birds?"

The woman shook her head. "No. But then again, not very many will pay attention to the new girl. I get to hear a lot of things."

Another nod. "So... you know what I am looking for then?"

She twisted the silk sash in her tight grip. "...three little lambs."

Here, Lero stopped his pacing. "And why should I take your word for it? Why not talk with the spider directly?"

She looked up, fear on her face. For a moment, it looked like she wanted to say something more, something desperate. Then her gaze fell down at her feet. Small, trembling hands slowly reached up to the top of her robe. "Like I said," she whispered, giving her robe a tug open, "it's more... pleasant dealing with a siren than a spider."

Her robe opened further. Lero caught the barest tease of a sheet-white nipple, the hint of trimmed nethers, the promise of-

"No," he said firmly. A pair of large hands firmly rested on the Siren's shoulders. She started and looked directly into his eyes. Lero saw fear and more than a little confusion. He looked downward, seeing how her small body shook in his presence.

With a sigh, Lero used his bandaged hands to slowly tug the silk robe back into place, securing the sash with respectful gentleness. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the bed. It was messy, with stained sheets and scratched bedposts. More black ribbons hung from the headboard.

An image flashed before his mind's eye. Her tied to the bed. Some larger form looming over, a cruel smile on its face. A final tug secured the sash. It might have been a little firmer than he wanted.

"But... I don't understand," she whispered, the melody carrying to his ears. "You don't want to...?"

"I'm... not like those other men," he said, his eyes still downcast. "I know what it's like to... have to do things you don't agree with. Especially in this place." She looked up at him, first with more astonishment, then a hopeful shine in her dark eyes. "I'll listen to what you have to say. And if I believe it, I... I'll see what I can do about getting you out of here."

Her eyes widened and she through her small arms around his broad shoulders. She stood up on her tiptoes and she shakingly whispered "thank you" over and over into his ear.

The melody was sad and sweet at the same time, so much that it made his heart ache. All he could do was fold his own arms around her.

He felt like such a hypocrite. Willing to give up a baby boy to gain an advantage and dodge conflict, but this girl comes along and suddenly he was willing to take her with him, have her join their… what? Their gang? Their squad? Their fellowship? Their motley?

He knew nothing about this pale girl, what she could even contribute to their group. But the moment he had her pegged as another slave, forced to do such degrading things, he suddenly had to do something.

Hearing her whisper in his ear, the melody filling his mind, he wondered if maybe she could be his own penance. He couldn't save the baby. But maybe...?

Words echoed back to him. He was making the best of a shitty situation.

He thought of...

...thought of...

He felt... slow.

Why did... he...?

The melody was...

Blue eyes flashed.

"Ah crap," said the Lost.

He tried to pull back. The Siren met him with an open mouth. A forceful kiss, an invading tongue. He pushed again. She drew a deep breath, her dark eyes boring into his. The Lost felt something essential being drawn out of him. He felt colder.

The Lost gave another shove. It was enough to push her away, but he still became disoriented and stumbled.

She was fast. He didn't even see the thin arm connect with his throat. The Pale Siren ducked and swept the ground with a kick. Now he was on his back, gagging, his head spinning. He saw her straddle him.

Another punch.

Stars.

"He said you would be an easy mark," said the Siren. The melody was replaced with a distant screaming. She grabbed his head and bent low. "Now don’t be shy, Thief. I want to enjoy this."

The Lost swam in darkness as he felt the warmth being drawn from him again.

Author's Notes:

Hey everyone! Well I kept my promise: it didn't take another four months! ...it took only thre- yeah it's still bad when I say it out loud.

This chapter was a tough write. I originally wanted it to longer, but given how long it has been since I last updated and this just seemed like a really good spot to end it, I decided to publish what my editors and I came up with to this point. The good news is that I already have a big chunk of the next chapter already written, so expect a shorter wait and a lot more action next time!

Once again, great many thanks to MikeTeavee and Rikmach for their patience and help editing this thing. Special thanks go out everyone who continues to read, favorite, and like this story. As usual, please comment on what you liked, what you didn't like, and any other thoughts you might have.

"In Circles" was written by Darren Korb and performed by Ashley Barrett. I do no own any rights to this song nor to the Transistor soundtrack though I do encourage you all to go pick it up. Seriously, it's pretty damn awesome. Go support the official release.