”Oh, well what’ve we got here.”

He looks up from his book, to where his father sorts through the mail. “What is it, Dad?”

His father gives him a mischievous little smile. “Looks like a letter for you, Diss.” The letter floats closer, nestled in his father’s magic.

Grabbing the letter in his hooves, he inspects the label, his eyes widening as he reads. “It’s from the Academy!”

“Well open it up, son.”

Quivering with excitement, he rips the envelope open and levitates the letter out, straining to keep his young magic stable. His eyes scan the page, his heart jumping as he reaches the end.

He looks up to his father, a wide smile plastered across his face. “I got in!”

“Hey Dissero, wake up. Dissero! C’mon, get up… Please?”

“That isn’t how you wake a pony up, Dream. Watch.”

Whack!

“Ow, hey!” Dissero’s head shot up as he suddenly felt a sharp sting in his side. It slammed into the top of his bunk, causing a hiss of pain as the world went out of focus. He shook his head, glaring blearily at the two ponies standing before him.

“That is how you do it,” Salvo said. She turned around, stepping out of sight.

“Sorry, Dissero,” Moon Dream said, smiling sheepishly. “Lupus wants you, we’re heading out now.”

“Ugh, what time is it?” Dissero asked, running a hoof through his mane.

“A little before dawn,” Dream said. “The work day will be starting soon.”

There was a sudden smack! sound from nearby, followed shortly after by a startled exclamation of “Hey, fuck!” from Silver Feather.

Moon Dream stepped backwards as Dissero rolled out of his bunk. “C’mon, let’s go,” the inky black pegasus said, starting towards the tunnel.

Silver practically fell out of his bunk, grumbling as he stretched his legs. “Shouldn’t we eat something first?”

“We’ll probably get some food out in the city,” Dream said, looking back briefly before crawling into the tunnel.

“What?” Silver hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He stood up straighter, the fog clearing from his eyes as it was replaced with a fiery determination. “You mean to tell me that we’re expected to—agh, stop that!” he sputtered, scrambling backwards as Dissero slapped him in the face with his tail.

“Shut up, Silver,” Dissero said, walking past him. “Let’s go.”

As Dissero blearily made his way through the hide, Silver Feather grumbling behind him, he passed the sleeping forms of the other rebels. Some of them hadn’t even bothered to climb into their bunks, simply passing out in the main room once their wounds had been seen to, and Nix seemed to have collapsed right next to the central table. The main room was a mess, with several crates laying open and medical supplies strewn about, and a few fresh bloodstains soaked into the dirt. He didn’t see any sign of the mare that had lost her leg.

When he and Silver climbed up the ladder and emerged into the alley, they found Salvo and Moon Dream already waiting for them, and Lupus pacing impatiently further down.

He looked up as the stallions came into view, his pursed lips drawing back in an energetic grin to reveal his sharpened teeth. “Finally! What took you so long? Nevermind, I don’t care. Come on, dogs, on me!”

Lupus led the group out into the street, Dissero’s nose twitching uncomfortably as a gust of wind blew the scent of his fur coat right into his face. The rain was falling gently now, the drops light and small, and the sky was as clear of clouds as Dissero had seen it since arriving in Harmony. Which was to say, it was only mostly overcast.

Thunder and airship engines rumbled in the distance as the five rebels trotted down the street, the first vestiges of sunlight just starting to shine over the great wall of clouds in the distance. “Alright then,” Lupus began, “tell me about this crew of yours we’re looking for.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Silver quipped.

Dissero fixed him with a brief exasperated glance before speaking. “There’s three other ponies on my crew: a blue pegasus mare, Stormslider, who manages the engines; a white unicorn mare named Ember that maintains the ship; and a white earth stallion named Cleaver that handles the food.”

“And drinks vodka,” Silver added.

“Silver!”

“What? That’s an extremely important part of his personality that will probably help us find him.”

“Whatever.”

Lupus nodded to himself, scanning the street as they walked. “Alright, so we’ll start with the mares first! Cell Ghoul may have some info for us, let’s move, Hounds! Quick step!”

Dissero winced at the volume of the order, looking around nervously. He thought he had heard the sound of ringing chainmail somewhere in the distance. “Shouldn’t we be more quiet?”

“Don’t worry,” Salvo droned. “The guards won’t bother us at this time.”

As if to prove her point, they passed a pair of armor-clad guards standing on a street corner. Dissero felt his heart speed up as they grew closer, but the guards remained totally still.

“Won’t they recognize you?” Dissero asked.

“Walking around with sharp teeth, a fur coat, and a painted mane they damn well should,” Silver muttered, eyeing the guards cautiously.

“Hah! These guards couldn’t recognize the Griffon King himself if he paraded down the streets with a legion of trumpeters!” Lupus exclaimed. “You’ve seen ‘em, seen how they move. They aren’t all there in the head, see? Easy to trick, if you know their rules.”

“That’s no reason to get cocky,” Salvo said. She turned to face the rest of the group. “Never underestimate a guard. They’ll kill you before you can regret it.”

“Yeah, yeah. You dogs just do what I tell you and you’ll be fine,” Lupus said, leading them out of the industrial center of the city and into the surrounding shantytown.

Salvo looked away, grimacing, but otherwise said nothing.

They walked through the city at a brisk pace, making good time through the mostly empty streets. Only a few ponies were up at this time, most of them setting up stalls or simply sitting and talking. Occasionally Lupus stopped to ask for a donation of food and, though most said no, there were a few who seemed to recognize the leader of the Bloodhounds and freely offered up some spare food. So it was that when they arrived at their destination, an unusually tall metal construct that was one of the rare two story buildings in the shanty, they had sated their hunger on a loaf of bread and a couple carrots.

“So what’s this place?” Silver asked, finishing off the last of his carrot.

“This is where Cell Ghoul stays,” Salvo explained. “They’re allies of ours.”

Dissero frowned. “Aren’t all the cells allies of yours?”

Lupus let out a single loud, barking laugh. “Hah! Most of the other cells are too scared to even head towards the towers without pissing themselves, and the rest are just damn helpless bitches. But the Ghouls, they’re useful, they know how to know things. Even if they’re too scared to do anything with it, they’re smart enough to help the Hounds.”

“They’re kind of weird, though,” Moon Dream added.

With a low chuckle, Lupus walked up and delivered a few solid knocks onto the door. After several moments, a muffled voice sounded from within.

“Who comes to disturb the sanctity of the Ghouls?”

“It’s me,” Lupus said.

“One does not simply enter the sanctity of the Ghouls.”

Turning around, Lupus raised a hind leg and hit the door with a swift buck. A muffled “ow” sounded from the other side, and the door slowly swung open.

Lupus shook his head as he stepped over the pony that lay on the floor inside, nursing his injured muzzle. “Ah, get up, I barely touched you.”

The rest of the Hounds followed him inside, each one stepping over the quietly cringing pony. It was dark inside, with only a few small candles scattered sparsely about providing light. Unlike most of the buildings in the shanty, great care had been taken to cover every crack and ensure that no sunlight could make its way inside, leaving most of the interior draped in shadow.

“Beating up my Ghouls again, Lupus?”

A pony materialized from the darkness, the barely visible form of a stallion just stepping only halfway into the light. All of his features were hidden beneath the long black cloak he wore, with only the barest reflection of flickering candlelight in his eyes giving any sign of life.

“He wasn’t letting me in,” Lupus said dismissively. “Teach your recruits better.”

The pony’s hood shifted, and Dissero thought he could see a set of smiling teeth beneath its cowl. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Dissero turned as he heard a shuffling sound behind him, and his eyes widened as he saw that the door pony had disappeared.

“I need some information,” Lupus said. “Looking for some ponies.”

“Hrm, what a surprise,” the hooded pony mused sarcastically. “And what do the Hounds offer in return?”

Lupus smirked, standing up a little straighter. “They’re airponies. A crew.”

“Oh?” The cowl shifted as the hooded pony tilted his head.

“Damn right. And I’ve got the captain and pilot already, right here.” Lupus flicked his tail towards where Dissero and Silver stood together.

The hooded pony hummed thoughtfully, stepping more fully into the candlelight as he approached the two stallions. “And who are we missing in this crew of yours?”

“Our engineer, mechanic, and cook,” Dissero said. Seeing the way Lupus reacted at the word ‘cook,’ he added, “I’ll need them all.”

“Is that so?” the hooded pony asked, turning to focus on Silver. “Are you a good pilot, pegasus?”

“Pfft,” Silver scoffed, flicking his tail. “Best there is.”

Another barely visible smile from beneath the hood. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

Lupus began tapping a hoof impatiently. “Let me worry about that, Ghost. Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Oh, but of course, for what would the Ghouls be without the Hounds, and the Hounds without the Ghouls?” The hooded pony, Ghost, put a hoof on Lupus’s shoulder as he spoke. “Brawn needs brains, after all, and visa versa. Now tell us, who are we looking for?”

A few other ponies stepped into the candlelight, their hooves making not even the slightest of sounds as they moved. Each one wore a similar cloak to Ghost, though short enough that their hooves and tails were visible.

Lupus looked at Dissero expectantly, and he spent the next several minutes describing the rest of his crew in detail, answering every question the Ghouls asked him. Once he was done, there was a few moments of silence before one of the Ghouls spoke up.

“I’ve heard of the Stalliongradian,” she said. “He’s been working for the Blossom Sisters, on the north side of the Inner City.”

Dissero felt a surge of relief at the words, exchanging a small smile with Silver. Cleaver was okay, and no doubt with the help of these ‘Ghouls’ he would soon find Stormslider and Ember as well. Lupus, however, didn’t seem to be nearly as pleased.

“What about the other two?” he asked, looking between the assembled Ghouls. “Anything on them?” His question was met with murmurs of denial.

“Do not fear, Lupus,” Ghost said soothingly. “If they are within these walls we will find them, I assure you. Why don’t you go get the cook, and as soon as we find the others a messenger will be sent to inform you.”

“Hmph, fine.” Lupus twisted in place, pushing Moon Dream aside as he headed for the door. “Let’s go, Hounds.”

“So they’re… weird,” Silver said once they were out in the street.

“Ghost likes to be dramatic,” Salvo explained.

“Likes to be an arrogant bastard,” Lupus snarled, leading them through the shanty at a relentless pace. “Always thinking he knows everything, thinks he’s smarter than me, huh? Hah!”

“Who are the Blossom Sisters?” Dissero asked.

“A couple earth pony mares that run a ‘tavern’ to the north,” Salvo said, her tone clearly implying that she thought ‘tavern’ was a little generous. “They’ve managed to keep a garden growing, and they’re friendly with the griffons so nobody ever messes with them. If you gain their favor, either by gifts or aid, they give you food and drink in return.”

“They make their own booze,” Moon Dream added. “From potatoes.”

“Ah, that explains it then, yeah?” Silver smiled, shaking his head. “Good ol’ Cleaver. Toss him into a slave city and within a few days he’s already found the booze.”

“So we just head over there and get him, then?” Dissero flinched as a heavy drop of water landed square on his right eye. The rain was starting to pick up.

“Bunch of high and mighty bitches,” Lupus grumbled, splashing water everywhere as he stomped through a puddle.

“We don’t have good relations with them,” Salvo said. “But as long as we we stay outside and just send you two in things should be fine. They don’t know you’re Hounds yet.”

Further down the street, a wooden crate suddenly fell from the sky, no doubt having slipped off one of the airships. It shattered open as it landed, spraying nearby ponies with water and shards of wood. Ponies leapt upon the contents the instant they realized what had happened, scrambling to pick up the little metal figurines that had been contained inside. There was a shout as two stallions began to fight over something, and suddenly a brawl had broken out in the middle of the street.

Lupus didn’t slow down in the slightest, actually speeding up as he barreled straight into the midst of the chaos. “Get out of my way, you raging mutts!” he barked, horn glowing as he whacked ponies on the head with the flat of his drawn machete’s blade.

At the sound of his booming voice, most of those ponies who hadn’t already been dazed by his vicious attack cowered in fear, scrambling to pick up one of the trinkets before stepping aside. A few of them stopped their feuds to turn on him instead, and were quickly put down by precise strikes of the machete’s hilt.

“Bunch of untrained runts!” Lupus yelled, sheathing his blade as he continued down the street.

“Is he okay?” Silver asked, “He seems a bit upset.”

Salvo sighed, beckoning with her tail as she followed. “Don’t mind him, he’s probably just thinking of the Blossom Sisters.”

Dissero stepped gingerly over the ponies nursing their bruises on the ground as he spoke. “Did something happen with them?”

“Not any one thing in particular, but they’re part of a group of ponies who don’t want us fighting the Baron,” Salvo explained. “Here they are wealthy and powerful, and they want things to stay that way.”

Silver flicked his tail irritably. “I’m starting to dislike them myself.”

“They do make good booze though,” Moon Dream said.

Salvo looked back, fixing the young pegasus with a stern gaze. “You don’t even drink.”

“I would if they didn’t hate us.” He flapped his wings briefly as they passed over a large puddle.

Salvo frowned. “Don’t drink.”

“Or what?” Dream asked, flaring his wings.

“If I ever smell even the slightest scent of alcohol on your breath, I’ll have Lupus put you on bucket duty for the next month.”

Dream’s eyes widened in horror as he shrunk back. “Alright, fine, by Celestia!”

Dissero exchanged an amused glance with Silver. Nothing quite like the threat of hauling shit to keep a young stallion in line.

With Lupus angrily leading the way, they made good time across the city. As the sun reached its zenith the streets began to empty, with the majority of the city’s occupants heading to the interior to work for their food. It was just past noon as they arrived at their destination, and the Hounds sought refuge from the increasingly heavy rain beneath an overhang across the street.

“Here we are,” Lupus spat. “The Open Blossom.”

Dissero squinted as he peered through the rain at the tavern. The Open Blossom was the sturdiest construct he’d seen in the shanty yet, with its walls made from metal plating anchored to solid wooden beams. A propeller styled after a blooming flower sat atop the second story, spinning lazily in the wind, no doubt providing some type of power generation to its occupants. The building even had a few chimneys built into the sides from a series of casings, smoke wafting up from them before drifting away. A wooden sign hung above the door, the image of a pair of blooming flowers carved into each side.

“Well go on,” Lupus said, scratching at the muddy ground. “Go get your damn cook.”

“We’ll wait out here,” Salvo said, leaning against the shack behind them. “Don’t take too long.”

Dissero nodded. “Alright, then. C’mon, Silver.”

With a “Good luck!” from Moon Dream, the two stallions crossed the street and opened the door, stepping inside.

If The Open Blossom looked sturdy from the outside, then it looked equally homely from the inside. Fires burning in the two chimneys gave the common room a warm red glow, and in one corner there was even a wooden stage. A zebra leaned against it, humming a gentle tune as he strummed at an improvised guitar. The tavern was mostly empty at this time, no doubt with most of the patrons working, and of the five square crate-and-stool tables only one was occupied, the group of scarred griffons seated there talking loudly as they ate and drank from clay wares.

“Kaptain?”

Dissero couldn’t help but smile as he turned to see Cleaver, the big white stallion seated quietly next to the door with a big clay mug at his side. “Cleaver! Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” Cleaver rumbled. He picked up the mug and took a long swig before speaking again. “Nice Blossom mares make deal with me: I provide muscle, they provide vodka.”

“Fuck, Cleav,” Silver said, grinning as he shook his head. “You sure know how to smell out the booze.”

Cleaver gave a slow little nod, inspecting the mug solemnly. “It is not good Stalliongrad brew, but is better than nothing.”

“You’ve gotta come with us, buddy,” Silver said. “We found some rebels, right, joined up with them. We’re getting the crew together and then we’re breaking outta here.”

“That is good news,” Cleaver said, finishing off the rest of his drink. “Let me speak with Blossom mares, then I will go with you.”

Dissero nodded. “Sure thing.”

“Oh my, Cleaver, and who are your friends?”

A pair of smiling earth mares approached the stallions, one a soft orange and other a warm red, both with pale green manes and welcoming green eyes. Their coats weren’t faded like those of the other ponies trapped within the Inner City, and their manes and tails were smooth, soft and carefully styled.

Cleaver looked into his mug to ensure it was empty, setting it aside as he spoke. “This is Kaptain, and Silver Feather.”

Dissero dipped his head in greeting. Silver’s smile grew a little wider, and he stood up a little straighter. “Ladies.”

“Oooh, so this is your airship captain?” The two mares drew closer, each one grabbing one of his shoulders. “I’m Cherry Blossom,” the red one said.

“And I’m Orange Blossom,” the orange one added. “Is it okay if we call you Captain?”

“Uh, well, um.” Dissero was finding it suddenly difficult to think as the heady scents of cherry blossoms and orange blossoms filled his nostrils.

Silver Feather came to his aid, clearing his throat and sliding into their view. “C’mon fillies, you want to talk to him? All he does is look at maps and spreadsheets all day. As for me, I’m the daring pilot that guides our ship across the skies.”

In an instant the two mares had switched targets, leaving Dissero to latch on to the grinning pegasus. “Come on, why don’t you tell us about your adventures over some drinks?”

“Oh, of course. Let me tell you about this time, down in Gryphos, we were smuggling some stock through a heavily patrolled valley…” His voice faded into the distance as the mares led him over to the bar.

Dissero spent a few moments gathering his thoughts, allowing the mare’s perfumes to clear away. He sighed, watching as Silver sat down at the bar and accepted a mug. Shaking his head, he stepped up to the bar and tapped Silver on the shoulder. “Silver, c’mon. We don’t have time to waste.”

“Now hang on a moment, Dissy,” Silver said, raising a hoof and waving him away. “These mares would like to hear about the wider world, alright?”

Cherry Blossom giggled. “Dissy? That sounds like a fillies name.”

Dissero frowned, raising a hoof in objection. “Actually, no it’s…” He trailed off as he saw that the mares had already moved on, listening with wide eyes as Silver described an exciting aerial chase that Dissero didn’t remember being nearly as exciting. “Silver!”

“What?” Silver turned to Dissero with a look that clearly said ‘could you not fuck this up?’

“We can come back later, right now we have places to be,” Dissero said.

“Hey!” Orange Blossom gasped as if she had thought of something terribly exciting. “We recently had somepony come in with some flight goggles, wanna see em?”

Silver blinked, his exasperation suddenly changing into a dangerous curiosity. Slowly, he turned back to the orange mare. “Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back!” Cherry Blossom practically leapt to her hooves, winking as she disappeared into another room behind the bar. When she came back she had a pair of old but well-maintained goggles hanging around her neck. “What do you think?”

The two stallions said nothing for several seconds, each one looking at the goggles, then to eachother, then back to the goggles.

Back by the door, Cleaver had obtained another mug of vodka and, seeing this development, chose that moment to chug it all at once.

“Those are my goggles,” Silver said. His voice was serious and kept carefully level, his smile slowly fading. “Those are my lucky goggles.”

“What?” Cherry let out a tinkling little laugh, brushing Silver’s shoulder with a hoof. “One of our patrons gave them to us, aren’t they cute?”

Slowly, Silver reached out with his good wing and held the goggles up, rotating them to where he knew the small image of his cutie mark was emblazoned. Just as he expected, there on the side of the left frame was a picture of a stylized pair of silver wings laid over a trio of spinning propellers.

“Those are my goggles,” he repeated.

“They were your goggles,” Orange Blossom corrected, the sweetness gone from her voice. “Now they’re ours, and if you want them back you’d better have something to trade.”

Dissero let out a little awkward chuckle. “Well, we don’t have anything to trade, and seeing as these are clearly his—”

Cherry Blossom cut him off with a sweep of her hoof. “Then you’re not getting the goggles.”

For another long moment, nopony said anything.

Silver narrowed his eyes. “I’m not afraid to hit a mare, you know.”

The guitar cut off with a dissonant twang, and the sound of wood scraping on wood filled the room. Dissero turned to see the griffons had all stood up, wings flared and talons bared, each one carefully showing off the array of scars and burns across their muscular bodies.

Cleaver frowned. He was beginning to think he may have to find a new source of vodka.

“Silver, c’mon,” Dissero hissed. “We can find something to trade and come back later.”

“Dissy, those are my goggles.”

The two stallions stared eachother down, each one pleading with the other. With a heavy sigh, Silver stood up and stepped back. “Alright fine, we’ll just—”

It was at that exact moment that the door suddenly slammed open, and Lupus leapt inside with his machete levitating besides him, bellowing out a challenge at the top of his lungs.

“Alright you fucks, I’m tired of waiting! Come at me!”

And then Silver punched Cherry Blossom in the face, and the tavern plunged into chaos.

In an instant Orange Blossom had leapt over the bar, the heels on her shoes having changed into deadly knives. Dissero’s eyes widened in alarm as he ducked, narrowly avoiding the blades as the mare soared past him. As she recovered he leaned onto his forelegs and kicked out with his hind legs, only for her to step aside and tackle him.

“Oof!” He felt the breath leave his lungs as he hit the ground, twisting to avoid the stiletto heel that plunged towards his eyes. His horn glowed as he grabbed the offending shoe, yanking it off and slamming it into the mare’s head.

She yelped in surprise, falling off of him, and he rolled to his hooves. Taking a quick glance around, he saw Silver standing over the unconscious Cherry Blossom, his goggles now firmly lodged in his mane above his eyes.

“Fucking prick!” he yelled, his good wing flared out.

“Silver, let’s go!” Dissero stumbled as Orange Blossom shoved past him, running to the far side of the room and leaping up the stairs two at a time. Turning to the door, he was treated to the sight of a raging brawl in the center of the tavern between the Hounds and the griffons. Cleaver was now standing next to the zebra, who was playing an energetic ditty on his guitar, with several large clay pots cradled in his hooves.

“Give it to ‘em, Hounds!” Lupus howled, his machete swirling around him as he danced wildly around the griffons. He drew back to dodge a powerful swipe from one of the griffons, responding with a vicious headbutt that sent the griffon to the ground.

Salvo fought with far more control and precision, deftly dodging every strike before countering with precise blows to the joints. One of the griffons squawked in pain as she grabbed his wing and twisted it, throwing him to the ground before stomping on his beak.

Moon Dream stayed on the peripheral of the fight, flapping his wings in a panicky flurry to avoid the attacks of one of the griffons. He led the griffon in circles, yelling, until Salvo reached out and kicked it in the side of the head.

In under a minute it was all over, the five griffons lying unconscious and bleeding on the ground. Lupus swung his machete in circles over his head, splattering drops of blood on the roof as he yelled, “Come on down, Orange, I just want to talk!”

Salvo scowled, stepping in front of him. “Lupus, we should go.”

Lupus paused in his wild taunting, fixing Salvo with a wild glare. “You question me, Hound?”

“We got what we came for, and you even got to raid the tavern,” Salvo insisted, speaking quickly. “Let’s go before the rest of the griffons get here.”

For a few moments Lupus did nothing but growl, the rest of the Hounds watching from afar. Even the zebra had stopped playing, looking between the arguing ponies with a cautious gaze.

Cleaver straightened up from where he had been crouching behind the bar, a wooden crate balanced on his back and a little smile on his lips.

Finally, Lupus sheathed his blade, the glow of his magic fading away. “Alright, fine!” he snarled. “Back to the hide, Hounds, good job!”

Dissero let out a little sigh of relief as Lupus twisted in place and marched out the door, Salvo and Moon Dream close behind him. He turned to his crewmembers and beckoned with a nod of his head, still breathing hard. “You guys ready?”

Silver practically pranced towards the door, a smug smirk on his face. “Got my goggles, I’m good!”

Cleaver nodded, walking ponderously over to the door with his crate balanced on his back. “I shall be supplied for some time.”

“Well!” Dissero looked around one last time, at the griffons on the floor, the comatose form of Cherry Blossom, and the zebra quietly playing on the stage. He nodded, walking outside.

“Everything went better than expected.”

Author's Notes:

It's a widely known rule that, as a musician, you must always play something which matches the goings on around you. Generally speaking you may want to play a tune which fades well into the background, a pleasing accompaniment to the chatter of your patrons.

But then the fighting breaks out, and it is your civic duty to play an upbeat brawling piece for everyone to fight to.

I like to think that that zebra is a master musician.